Darkness. A void. Hunter sat up and rubbed his eyes. He waved his paws in front of them. They were definitely open, so why was it that he couldn’t see anything? He stood and tried to look around, but the darkness appeared to be total. No matter what he did, his eyes completely failed to adjust. He flexed his footpaws. The ground, at least, seemed solid enough. 

“Hello?” he called out, his high boyish voice tremulous with badly suppressed fear. The cub was answered only by silence. The only sound to be heard was the shuffling of his own pawpads as he took a few tentative steps forward.

He had the distinct feeling that he was being watched, although he had no clue who might actually be doing the watching, or for that matter… how. The boy looked behind him quickly, expecting to see… something out of the corner of his eye, but there was nothing. He couldn’t even see the edges of his ponytail, although he felt it slap against the back of his neck, which made him jump a little.

There was only one thing for the panther cub to do, and that was to move forward, so he continued to walk in the same direction as his first tentative steps. It was as good of a direction as any in this nothing place. Occasionally he would call out, but the only response he got was his own voice echoing back through the void. Sometimes, somewhere far off, he thought he could hear a bell ringing.

Eventually, after trudging through the darkness for what felt like hours, Hunter spotted what appeared to be a faint light off in the distance. It could have been his imagination, but on the off-chance it wasn’t… well, anything was better than this nowhere land. The panther sprinted in the direction of the light. Maybe there would be someone there. Someone who could help him get out of here, or at least tell him where he was. After a while, he dropped to all fours and ran feral-style in the direction of the light. Somewhere a bell was ringing.

An eternity later, or so it felt, the boy at last reached the source of the light. Panting hard, he sat on his haunches until the stitch in his side subsided. He must have travelled an amazing distance. He stood up and finally got a look around. He was standing beneath a bright light, the kind of flickering gas street lamp that he’d seen in old movies, lighting the streets of ancient cities at night. He blinked and found himself face-to-loincloth with… another panther. This was not just any other panther, however. Standing before Hunter was the very ideal of Panther Tribe masculinity.

He was huge. Impossibly huge, it seemed to Hunter, who was no small boy himself. This man stood fully nine feet tall and appeared to be built like a tank. He was wearing traditional panther tribe garb, which is to say he was wearing a loincloth and little else. It wasn’t merely a plain leather flap, as Hunter’s was. The man’s loincloth was quite intricate/ Complex patterns were embossed on the surface, and it was covered in colourful beadwork and decorative fringing. Hunter couldn’t help but stare in awe. This warrior — for he could be nothing else — must be very important, whoever he was.

Looking up, the next thing Hunter noticed was that the other panther’s fur was covered ears-to-tail in the most intricate tattoos he had ever seen on another fur apart from himself. Complex and mesmerizing, they only enhanced the older panther’s wild good looks, and gave him an even more imposing air. Several steel rings pierced the panther’s pointed ears, with another one through his nose and two more hanging from his nipples. Like Hunter, he wore a necklace made out of fangs and bone, although his had many more fangs. In fact, he was wearing several of them, and other assorted jewelry besides.

Hunter, a bit of a magpie at the best of times, couldn’t help but stare at the man, and not only because of his decorations, although if the boy had been paying a little more attention, they may have been familiar to him. He stood before a warrior out of history, out of myth. The kind of panther Hunter aspired to be, and fear he never would. It was impossible for him not to be in awe of that.

His eyes drifted back down to the adult panther’s loincloth. The kitten found himself wondering with some… curiosity what he might see underneath the huge warrior’s loincloth, but he was abruptly snapped out of his reverie as the older panther began to move, sinking into a low bow.

“Well met, young Hunter,” he said in a deep rumbling voice that sent shivers down the cub’s spine.

“Greetings, noble warrior,” the younger panther replied, matching the bow as closely as he could. Whoever this was, he was showing Hunter a surprising amount of respect, and the kitten was not about to dishonour him by showing any less.

“I extend to thee my congratulations on the event of thy first hunt. May it be the first of many.”

Hunter tilted his head in confusion, “I went hunting more than once, though…”

“Not those. Thou chased small ferals with a bow, then. Thine elders never let thee out of their sights, and would have intervened should thou have encountered danger. That is hardly a hunt at all, is it?”

The cub was dumbstruck.

“Thou hast not experienced the true thrill of the hunt. The pleasure of the chase. The joy of the capture. Until now. Am I right, boy?”

“Until now…” Hunter said distantly, “until I… ate someone.” It wasn’t a question. He knew what the warrior meant.

“Yes,” there was a kind of fierce pleasure on the adult panther’s face, a wild fervour in his voice. That single word spoke volumes. As they stared at each other, two pairs of identical golden eyes meeting in the darkness, a kind of electricity seemed to pass between them. Here were two predators, recognizing and acknowledging the other’s power.

Despite himself, Hunter smiled. “It felt… natural. Right, somehow. I am a predator, and he was my prey. I felt… powerful.” The cub was hesitant, as if he was asking for permission to feel that way.

“Yes!” the older panther exclaimed again, a spark of exultation dancing in his eyes, “embrace thy true nature, young Hunter. Accept it, for it is thy birthright.”

An electric thrill ran up the cub’s spine. This was his power. His right as a hunter and as a panther. His destiny. The blood of countless generations of Panther Tribe predators flowed through his veins. Then, as quickly as the feeling had come, he hesitated again.

“But… wait! What about Jack? He is not a predator. He is… prey… but I love him. I would do anything for him, but after I was finished with the hyena, I looked at him, and all I could think was…” Hunter broke off, tears suddenly welling up in his big golden eyes.

“Hush, child. Thou wilt not devour thy soulmate.”

“But…”

Suddenly, the warrior looked angry. “Art thou a slave to thy hunger? A mindless ravening beast, perhaps, who would devour all without a care? I think not, boy. Thou art of the Panther Tribe. Moreover, thou art a Sharpfang. Act like it. If he truly be thy mate, thou wilt defend him e’en unto the death. Do not dishonour thyself and thy tribe by entertaining such notions. Wipe thine eyes and speak no more of this foolishness.”

Hunter recoiled as though he’d been slapped. This mysterious warrior had taken everything about his heritage he held dear and thrown it back in his face. He was right, of course, and the cub could do nothing but obey. He wiped his eyes. Somewhere, a bell was ringing. He bowed low again.

“Forgive me, great warrior.”

The huge panther simply nodded, his expression unchanging. The great shame that had filled the panther subsided a little. 

“Our time grows short. Know that the Hunger, once awakened, will never leave thee. A great power has awoken within thee, use it wisely, And do not neglect thy rituals. Thy lapse is forgiven, as it was thy first time. It will not be so again. Embrace thy nature, but do not forget who thou art.”

The light and the other panther began to fade away. Somewhere a bell was ringing, and suddenly it seemed very loud and very close. Hunter’s fang necklace began to glow with an intense light, drowning out the darkness.

“But wait! Noble warrior, you never told me your name. Who are you?”

The fading panther made a final low bow. “Farewell, Hunter Sharpfang…”

The light emanating from Hunter’s necklace was blinding now, painfully bright. The panther’s final words echoed in Hunter’s ears.

Farewell… Hunter… Hunter… Hunter…

“…Hunter? Hunter wake up! Please wake up…”

A bell was ringing, and Hunter slowly opened his eyes. A vague bright blur slowly resolved into a fluorescent light fixture. He became aware that he was lying on something soft. He turned towards the sound of the voice that had been speaking to him. It was very familiar for some reason. He blinked and his eyes finally focused on a familiar, very worried face.

“Jack? What happened? Where am I?”

“We’re at school, remember? In the nurse’s office. You passed out in first period and we couldn’t get you to wake up all day. I was really worried! How are you feeling?”

Hunter rubbed his head. It hurt, It was throbbing. His whole body seemed to hurt.

“…Like I’ve been hit by a truck. Why did they not take me to a hospital?”

Jack shrugged. “Apparently it’s policy to call your parents if something like this happens, and when the nurse told them what was happening, your dad said not to move you any more than they already had. I’ve been checking in between every class.”

That made Hunter smile. “You did not have to do that…”

“But I did! I had to see if you’d woken up. You were mumbling something in your sleep the last few times.”

“What was I saying?”

“I.. don’t know. You were speaking Panther or something. Oh, your parents are here, by the way. And they brought some old guy with them. I’ve never seen him before, but he dresses like you do. Is he your grandpa or something?”

Hunter sat bolt upright and then winced, the soreness of his body making him instantly regret the sudden movement.

“Elder Sharpclaw? Here?”

“He’s just outside. So… not your grandpa, then?” Jack was rambling. He did that when he was worried, sometimes, and he was definitely worried right then.

“He is the chief of the whole Panther Tribe in this part of the country. He’s also a hundred and seven. I… what is he doing here, of all places?”

Jack shrugged. “It’s you. You really scared us, you know. You really scared me. Maybe your elder knows something about what was happening to you.”

“Yeah… maybe he can explai—AAH!” Hunter suddenly slumped forward. He shuddered violently, his dark fur suddenly drenched in sweat. 

“Hunter? Talk to me, Hunter. What’s wrong?” Jack tried to put a comforting arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders, but the panther pushed it away with alarming force.

“Don’t touch me!” Hunter snarled through gritted teeth, “go get Elder Sharpclaw!”

“But—“

“GO!”

The panther boy had never spoken to anyone like that before, least of all Jack. The bun had always known him to ve a very kind and gentle boy. He was hurt, as much as he tried not to be. He sniffled a little. Still, he told himself, his chief had given him an order, and that was that.

Jack ran out into the hallway. He was more than a little intimidated by the very large, ancient looking panther sitting across from the door in full tribal gear, barely fitting into a little folding chair. His boyfriend apparently needed this man, though. He gulped and stepped up to the man.

“Excuse me, sir. M-mr… Elder Sharpclaw, sir. Hunter’s awake. He… he doesn’t look like he’s doing well, but he’s awake. He says he needs you, uh.. right now.” Jack was trying to look urgent and apologetic at the same time.

With a grave expression, and without saying a word, Elder Sharpclaw stood up, giving Jack the same penetrating look Hunter sometimes did, like he was staring into the bun’s soul, and strode past him and into the room. Wiping tears out of his eyes, Jack followed right behind. Nobody had told him not to, and he wanted to be near his boyfriend, no matter what he was going through.

He reentered the room just in time to see the kitten shivering, doubled over, and hear him cry out in agony as four great black tendrils shot out of his back.