Dreadwolf, Lord of Runes

It was the year 2150. As the sky darkened and the sun hid, Riftshade defied nature, its neon lights glaring defiantly back at the moon.

In the glow of this ever-waking city, a boy with dark hair sat on the edge of a roof, gazing out over the nightlife of Earth's capital. His chin rested on his hands, supported by the hilt of a basic, straight-edged sword. The tip rested on the concrete between his legs.

His dark jacket helped blend him into the shadows while his amber eyes lazily followed the people moving about in the glow below.

Some weaved from nightclub to nightclub. Others snuck through the dark alleys, dealing death or other things. Distant shouts, wails, and sirens, mingled with the throb of circling drones and hovercopters filling the city's sky.

“I hope my gamble today pays off,” the boy sighed as he took in the city’s nightlife and drummed his fingers on the hilt of his sword.

“Sticking it to Father and gaining an ally at the same time would be a double victory,” he mused, smirking slightly, before his thoughts turned to the future. “Maybe with her help I can escape Father's grasp and create my own future. Assuming he doesn't kill her when he realizes what I've done…”

Suddenly, the boy’s thoughts were interrupted by a high-pitched, almost cute roar sounding just below him. “Ah,” he mumbled as he stretched his back and prepared to move. “I guess that’s my cue. Dreams of the future will have to wait.”

The boy sheathed the sword behind his back and jumped down from the edge. His jacket flapped behind him as he landed softly on the rickety fire escape below.

The building he had been sitting on was in poor condition, right in the middle of the slums. But like most buildings in this city, it still stood at least ten stories high.

As the boy softly weaved down the steps in the direction of the dim alley below, shadows appeared to gather around him, cloaking him in their protective embrace.

“Need to hurry,” he muttered to himself as he ran toward the earlier roar. “Can’t let her get captured again. Not now. Not when I’ve finally found the perfect candidate…”

When he reached the lowest position on the fire escape, he observed the scene below him.

Three middle-aged men had cornered a young girl, barely fourteen and wearing rags. Stringy white hair partly obscured her face in the alley's gloom while cat-like ears protruded from her tousled hair, a furry tail lashing behind her.

But this wasn’t new information to the boy. This was not the first time he had seen her.

"Come here, kitty, kitty," one of the men, stinking of booze and filth, growled at the girl. "Dunno how ya got away from us yesterday, but ya ain't gettin' away again!"

The girl didn’t say anything. Instead, she just snarled and roared in their direction while slowly backing herself against the wall behind her.

"Damn, ya think she's gone wild?" another man asked, a note of fear in his voice.

“Shut your trap, you idiot!” the third hissed. “That’s just some idiotic rumour. Beastlings don’t go feral, they just like to pretend!”

The third man, clearly the brains of their little operation, turned his attention to the girl in front of them. “Come now, girl. We won’t harm you. In fact, we’ll take you to your mother. Don’t you want that?”

Pain, tears, and overwhelming fury appeared in the girl's eyes, but she was in survival mode. Fury and revenge took a backseat. “I’m not going anywhere with you!” the girl snarled, her eyes darting around the alley for an escape route.

Her gaze briefly settled on a dark spot above her before shifting away, seemingly having found nothing.

Meanwhile, in that exact spot, the boy smiled with appreciation for the beastling’s sharp senses. “So, I didn’t imagine it,” he chuckled while rubbing his neck. “She really did notice me yesterday.”

The men closed in, driving the girl into a corner. She snarled and hissed, trying to fend them off, but only caused them to hesitate momentarily.

One man lunged, barking in frustration and impatience, “Enough waitin' around! Git over here, ya little runt!”

Fortunately, despite her young age, the girl was no slouch in a fight. Seizing the opening this man gave her, she ducked under his arms and scrambled onto his back with feline agility. From there, she used his shoulders as a springboard to propel herself toward the fire escape above.

The man stumbled and roared in anger, while the other two cursed at him for letting her escape. But when the three thugs noticed the girl wouldn’t be able to reach the ladder, they started snickering at her misfortune.

Unfortunately, like so many before them, they forgot about the beastling’s tail. While seemingly innocuous, a beastling’s tail could easily be considered their most powerful limb.

In mid-air, the girl rolled forward, her tail shooting towards the railing. Just barely reaching it, she hung upside down, out of the men’s reach.

“Damn beastlings and their tails!” the smart one cursed, before beginning to direct the other two men.

The brothers were quick to react as they started using surrounding trash to climb up. The beastling girl looked frustrated. Her gaze panned between her two avenues of escape. The other side of the alley, or the fire escape towards the roof.

In a surprising move, she didn’t pull herself up but instead swung herself to the other side of her assailants and took off into the night.

“Was she worried because of my shadow?” the boy pondered when he noticed her decision. It made no difference to him either way, however, so he shrugged. After the thugs took off running in pursuit of the girl, he jumped down from the fire escape while unsheathing his sword again.

“Is this what they call being the oriole that stalks the mantis…?” he mused to himself while moving in the same direction.