Fur Fighters

Gravel and rock erodes as a heavy downpour of rain hurls itself across the rocky cliffs of a mountain as two beasts race against it’s muddy terrain. A fox madly keeps up his pursuit in the pouring rain, with a weasel running up the Cliffside losing distance. The red furred canine held a saber in his right paw and a glowing device made of crystal strapped around his left wrist, like a bracelet. Closing in on his quarry, the fox quickened his pace; his legs continuously splashing against the muddy earth while the fur on his legs grew evermore dirtied. His eyes focused on his prey’s movements, continuously looking for the slightest attempt to deviate him from his mission, and then it happened.

Panting frantically, the weasel reached inside a pouch under his large green vest and produced a few silver balls, which he threw at the fox behind him.

Instinctively, the fox leapt in the air, and momentarily ran on the wet cliff face. The space he once occupied suddenly was consumed by a thunderous explosion of smoke and fire; sending the passage to crumble and fall down the mountainside.

Touching ground once again, the fox howled to the staggering weasel, who was losing ground as they neared the top of the mountain. “Is that all you have Harro?”

Fiercely grabbing his pouch, the weasel ripped it from his waist and hurled it at his back, sending a barrage of silver balls the fox’s way. There were too many for him to do the same maneuver, and with so many coming at a high trajectory, he would get caught in their blast radius at any direction. Escape for the weasel seemed imminent, but both furiously stomped on the wet earth without giving an inch.

Sticking his left paw forward, the crystal bracelet shined brighter. Sparks began emanating from it, as well as an ominous humming noise. Then, the silver balls exploded; once again engulfing the mountainside with fire. It was such a close explosion, the weasel felt the heat of the flames brush against his face. It was breath taking how any beast could’ve survived such devastation, which is why the weasel began slowing down after gasping at the sight of the menacing fox leaving the inferno unscathed.

“How-can-this be,” he huffed. Then, he saw it from out of the clouding veil of smoke. The radiating yellowish glow of the fox’s crystal bracelet produced what looked like a dim force field around him; shielding him from the blast. Before turning his head forward and running into the dark woods, the weasel shivered as he saw the fox’s wicked grin for only a second.

Being nearsighted, the weasel’s peripheral vision betrayed him in such a dark environment. Even the soaked fur over his face made it hard to navigate without water droplets tampering with his vision. Ultimately, it became his doom, as a random tree root tripped him up on its journey to the surface.

His face splashing on the cold, wet, grassy floor of the forest, the weasel quickly tried getting up on his paws. But before he set one footpaw to the floor, he felt a heavy blow to his stomach, as the fox kicked him and sent him tumbling along. With his very own glowing bracelet around his left wrist, the weasel reached out his paw and in a show of blue sparks sizzling the wet ground, an iron sword slowly formed out of thin air.

Before he could grasp it however, the fox effortlessly hit it away. Staring his prey down with sword point sticking at him, the fox chuckled whilst wiping his whiskers of water droplets. “You know you nearly had me on the cliff,” he said, with a sophisticated tone of voice, “Had I not use the force field in time I would’ve disintegrated. You scorched a well groomed tail making me chase you up here, when you should’ve just came quietly.”

With a paw still clutching his sore abdomen, the weasel scowled with great hatred. “You demon.”

The fox rubbed a paw to his chest, which had a spot of bloodstained fur slithering down his belly. “Aww, I’m touched.”

“You wont get away with this.”

“Oh, but sweet sweet Harro, I already have. There’s nothing you, or the grandmasters can do about me, and come the tournament, all the fur in the world will belong to me. But for the time being, your fur will make an excellent treat until then. Any last words?”

“The chosen one will stop you.”

“Hahahahaha, still believe in that nonsense huh?”

Pointing his bracelet paw at the weasel, the fox bared his teeth in a devilish smile. “Pretty soon, not even your chosen one can stop me!”

Closing his eyes, the weasel shook his head as the screeching and flying sparks of the fox’s bracelet grew louder by the second. “Shatzu, your arrogance will be your downfall.”

In a radical burst of energy, the fox’s bracelet fired on the poor weasel. The forest lit up like a star in the cold dark night, with a blood curdling scream to thunder in the background. The wet land shook the water out of the trees and splattered over the muddy pastures. With the deed done, and the night still young, the fox turned his back to where the weasel lye and proceeded down the mountain. Soaked to the bone and at risk of catching sickness, the fox didn’t care. For nothing can deter him from his appetite, for fur.