Drew:

I turn the car engine off and pause for a few moments before opening the door and easing out to stand up. I place my left hand against my ribs where they pinch painfully and duck my head as I shuffle towards the door stiffly. Hopefully no one will notice my battered appearance in the late afternoon twilight. It takes me a minute or so to unlock the door and I can smell the faint lingering rank, musky odour of dingo wafting from one corner of the front of the building. I grimace as I recognise the sharp stench of urine and silently curse whichever of the two brothers has been marking my cabin as his territory.

The inside of the cabin is empty and I glance around worried for a moment before I register the bedroom light is on and the air in the cabin is rich and thick with Harley’s scent. A quick look in the bedroom and I see both of our backpacks and a small pile of her clothes on the floor. There are no signs of a struggle, nothing appears out of place, and so I head for the fridge intending to make myself a meal.

There is a plate containing a piece of steak, large to the human eye but small to the eye of a werecat. Half a loaf of bread, some cheese, half a dozen eggs and about a quarter of a bottle of milk joins the raw meat on the table. The little collection comprises all of the food I can find so it will have to do for now. I am ravenous and quickly start a frypan heating on the stovetop adding a generous lump of margarine from a container sitting on the bench. Soon the steak is sizzling in the frypan while I break the eggs into a bowl, add some milk before stirring them roughly with a fork. I drop several slices of bread into the mixture submerging them briefly with my fingers before turning my attention to the steak to flip it over.

I am too hungry to wait and only leave the steak long enough to sear on the second side before I stick the fork in it and lift it from the frypan. I hold the steak aloft as I reach with my left hand to lift soaked slices of bread from the bowl and drop them into the frypan, I push an extra slice in so all the hot surface is covered before lifting my sticky fingers to my mouth and sucking the egg mixture from them. My ribs grate and I grimace before grasping the hanging end of the steak and lifting it to my mouth to take a large bite. I take the time between mouthfuls to add the last few slices of bread to the remaining egg mixture and turn the slices so they all get a coating of egg before leaving them to soak up the last of the moisture. 

I am nearly finished the steak when the door bursts open and Harley rushes in, pleasure and relief are clear on her face.

“You’re back!” Harley exclaims and stops in her tracks as her gaze flits over me taking in my badly battered appearance.

“Shut the door behind you,” I say quietly before turning my attention back to the french toast cooking in the pan. I flip the slices of bread noting they are burnt around the edges but if I as I am desperate for a feed they will still be okay to eat. 

“You said you’d only be gone two nights and it’s been five nights! Six if you count tonight!” Harley sounds puzzled and hurt and I glance her way as I reach for the plate that had held the steak, flip it over exposing the clean bottom and start putting the slices of French toast on the plate.

Harley is examining me closely with her eyes, I wince as my side pulls and her gaze drops to my side. She compresses her lips together and her nostrils flare slightly as she narrows her eyes. I know I have two black eyes, several loose teeth, both bottom and top lips are split in several places and a huge bruise mars the left side of my face extending down and across my chin.

“What happen … how badly are you hurt and who done this to you?” Harley’s voice is suddenly laden with suspicion. She eyes the bone from the steak, the pile of

french toast on the plate and I can feel her gaze on me as I put the last of the french toast on to cook.

“There’s nothing food, rest and time can’t heal,” I say lightly. Harley stalks over and unbuttons my shirt despite my attempts to stop her. When I clasp both sides and prevent her opening it she folds one hand into a fist and for a moment I have the feeling she is about to hit me to force me to let her see the extent of what I am hiding. She takes a deep breath and moves away leaving me to turn the now burning second batch of french toast.

“Who. Done. It.” Harley bites out between clenched teeth and I glance her way. She has moved to the fridge and is closing the door as I meet her eyes. Her fringe hides their colour but I can tell they have darkened in anger as she watches me waiting for an answer. I turn away, I have how much of what happened worked out to tell her.

“Your family didn’t like my news,” I say quietly.

“My family done this to you?” Harley demands.

“They apparently decided ‘things’ could be handled. Your ex is willing to take you back but any little blow-bys get given to your mother to raise. You provide him with the necessary heirs and I am accepted into the clan once they had taken my balls to prevent any … accidents.” I don’t look her way as I grit the words out between my teeth.

“I am going to give them a piece of my mind!” Harley snarls outraged. “How dare they try to decide my future like that! Tell me how to contact them, how to get to my parents place and I will tell them exactly what I think of them!”

“You can’t!” I exclaim as I turn to face her hurriedly. Pain shoots through my broken ribs at the sudden movement and Harley’s eyes flick down to my side as I hold my arm a fraction from my side. She moves too quickly for me to stop her as she comes over and grabs both sides of my shirt to hold them open wide. I don’t need to look to see the patchwork of multi coloured bruises that cover both my sides. I remember clearly how they range in colour from faintly yellowing around the edges to deep purple over my broken ribs.

“I am going to tell them what they can do with their plans! How dare they think they can dictate to me like that! How dare they do this to you!” Harley snarls and I see the rage boiling in her eyes.

“Harley no!” The steely determination I see in her eyes scares me. I am in no shape to prevent her rushing in bent on revenge, righting what she believes is a wrong.

“There’s more I have to tell you,” I say turning away. I turn the stove off and tip the last of the cooked food on top of the pile on the plate.

“This was done to me to remind me I am no more than just some outcast … before I was told you were welcome back and they would accept me if that was the only way you’d return,” I say softly. I give her a cautious look before moving to sit at the bench and start eating. My hunger is far from appeased and I need a lot of food if I am to heal quick enough to take Harley from this place. 

“Before I left you said you might as well be dead to them. I was scared of what they might do to you if they would give me such a beating,” I mumble and eat several mouthfuls before glancing towards Harley and looking away quickly. I know I have to play this just right to make her believe me and not go looking to get even.

“I … told them you were dead, hit by a car, hurt so badly you died,” I glance at her and see stunned horror on her face. I get up from the table as quickly as I can and go to put my arms around her but Harley stumbles backwards several steps and I stop, scared to try to grab her.

“I’m sorry Babe, I know I had no right to tell them a lie like that but I remember how unhappy you were at first! I couldn’t stand to see you like that again! When we conceived this kitt … when you were on heat and came to me, left him behind, you said you could never go back! You said you’d never be able to forgive yourself if you did … I was just trying to do what you wanted. Now, and the you before the accident …” I reach a hand out towards her head where the scar that mars the perfection of her skin runs up into her hairline but Harley shies away from my hand, my touch and turns almost drunkenly to head for the bedroom.

“I need some time to myself,” she mumbles as she disappears from sight.

Harley: 

 The stench of dingo wakes me and I get up from the bed where I had slept last night. I pause as I stop and glance back at the bed with the covers undisturbed on one side, my body imprint clearly visible on top of the covers. The other side is turned back where Drew tossed and turned last night trying to find a comfortable position for his battered body. I turn my head to look at the closed bedroom door and feel my top lip curl up as I hear several voices in the other room. I stalk to the door and fling it open, there is sudden silence from the three males in the room and I glare at Drew.

 “What are those dogs doing here!” I snarl. Even though I have been forced to accept food they bring me the last few days it does not mean I like or enjoy having them around. Especially not in the same building as me while I sleep!

 “I came bearing gifts of food once again Madam High and Mighty,” Henry, who everyone calls Hank, says with his top lip curled into what I guess is supposed to pass as a smile.

 Hank is the one I hate most of the two. Taller than his brother and more lithely built he reminds me of a long distance athlete. His skin is a dark brown but his cheeks often flush with the brightness of blood when his strange blue and brown hazel eyes darken with anger, which seems to be nearly every time we exchange words.

 “Come on Harley, that’s no way to speak to my friends,” Drew scolds gently and I glance his way to see the hard look in his eyes. Drew is sitting on a stool in the middle of the eating area while Hanks brother Malcolm, who only answers to Mutto, is cutting Drew’s hair short in almost a military style. I glance at Hank who has his shoulder length hair pulled back with a hair band, the ends hanging in faint waves.

 “If you like, I could even out the back of your hair so it looks better,” Mutto says quietly. His voice is like soft silk and fits him perfectly. Inky black skin, thick solid body and shiny black hair that curls tightly, the only thing that looks out of place is his eyes with their deep forest tones of green. Even his teeth when he smiles flash brightly white in his dark face.

 “You think I am going to let some mutt near me with sharp scissors?” I sneer as I head for the toilet.

 “Mutt – Oh. The name is Mutt-o,” Mutto says calmly and patiently and I slam the door behind me.

 Only Drew is in the front room when I come out of the toilet and he gets to his feet to come over close and grasp my upper arm.

 “Hank and Mutto are my friends,” Drew says firmly. “And as such you will talk to them politely and not be hostile. I do not care if you don’t like them, fact is I never cared for many of your friends from before but smiled and made polite conversation because they mattered to you. Now kindly do me the same curtesy,”

 I suddenly feel small and mean as Drew lets go of my arm and moves away. I remain silent and bite my lip as I head for the fridge. As I open it I remember that Drew had returned he had cooked and ate what I had meant for dinner last night, and breakfast this morning. I close the door quietly and look at Drew, he glances my way and raises an eyebrow.

 “There’s no food,” I say quietly.

 “Since I don’t have any money and can’t work Hank has offered to help us out,” Drew says flatly. “Only until I am back on my feet. And this is one of my friends you disrespected this morning …”

 I turn away as I feel my face start to burn with a mixture of embarrassment and humiliation. I half expect Hank and Mutto to be waiting just outside but I am almost sure I heard the old Holden ute they drive start up while I was taking care of my morning routine.

 “They’ve just gone to get some food. They should be back soon,” Drew says levelly.

Just on sunset the same day

 I follow not far behind Drew as he trots through the light scattering of trees, I leap agilely up onto large slabs of rock before springing down lightly onto the other side. Drew trots around these outcrops and I know his ribs must be bothering him but he sets a fast pace as we head up the hill and into denser trees. Not long after we reach the thicker growth of trees I hear the faint sounds of paws behind us and stop to turn and face the way we come. Drew huffs at me to keep moving but I crouch down in shadow with my ears pressed hard against my skull as I wait for our followers to show themselves.

 Two canine forms slip past in the half-light and I wait a few moments before bolting after them. The darker, orange tan dog bolts to the side with his tail tucked under his body while the solid yellowy cream dog turns to face me. I glimpse multi-hued green eyes as I streak past, and I don’t slow until I have reached Drew’s side. Drew snorts at me but I trot beside him, my head held slightly higher than normal and my ears pointed backwards. I don’t trust either of the dingos behind us even though I did take Mutto up on his offer to neaten up my short hair.

 Another ten minutes and we come to a halt at a fence lined with mesh netting, pale wool glints caught on the wires and I lift my chin as I sniff the faint breeze. The two canine forms halt momentarily before trotting down one side of the fence, Drew turns to follow and I only hesitate a moment before following after him curiously. A solidly built wooden gate suspended between two large posts is our way past the fence. The dingos slip threw gaps between the wooden slats, Drew gathers himself and jumps up onto the end of the gate near a post before dropping onto the other side. I hesitate, the fence is a barrier, it certainly would not keep any of us out but it makes me cautious.

 Drew crests the small hill in front of the fence and stops to look back at me, I hesitate and turn a circle undecided. The two dingos pause beside him a moment then disappears down the other side. Drew turns away and begins to walk after them, I stop as I face the gate. Hesitate, gather myself and leap. My front paws barely touch the gate as I glide over it, my back feet finding a grip as my hind legs propel me forward. I rush up to the top of the incline and pause for a moment as I survey the view spread out before me.

 Behind me the fence runs across the hill three quarters of the way up. In front of me the side of the hill is lushly carpeted with thick green grass and a fenced dam feeds water to two long wooden troughs at the base of the hill. Just out from the troughs are a large mob of white sheep, most are lying down a sleep but a few here and there are nibbling at the grass.

 I watch as the two dingos creep down a dusty track towards one edge of the mob, in front of me Drew is making his way down steadily and I move down off the crest to watch. Slowly the plot unfolds and I watch as several sheep are herded back towards Drew. A quick dash on his part and he nearly brings down a large sheep near the front. Sheep bleat and mill helplessly and when the dust has cleared Drew is without a kill while both dingos have prey. Pale Mutto has a half grown beast down while Hank is systematically savaging a large ewe that is trying to escape. I come down the hillside at a fast trot heading straight for Mutto and the beast already down. As the female, only female, any kill I choose is mine.

 Mutto stands his ground for a few moments before backing off with a ferocious snarl. I lower my head over my meal and press my ears back as I curl my top lip in a snarl and lash my tail angrily. I slowly lower my muzzle to the weakly struggling animal in front of me and open my jaws to crunch down on the neck of the half grown lamb killing it instantly. Hot blood fills my mouth and I raise my head as I dare Mutto to try to take my kill. He stares at me for several seconds, he would only be the size of a large mastiff and I am much bigger, much heavier. He hesitates a moment then turns to race after the fleeing animals. 

 I lower my head and begin eating, the young animal tastes delicious and I tear into the meat with relish. As I eat I raise my head to see where the others are. Drew, Mutto and Hank are feeding from a beast near the top of the next ridge and there is no sign of the rest of the sheep. I lower my head once again and tear into the soft flesh, I glance at where Hank is jerking and slashing at the other carcase. I don’t waste time with foolish antics, instead I eat quickly, and I still have to make up for missing dinner last night.

 The sharp vocalisation from the two dingos has me looking up and I watch as first Hank, then Mutto turn and head the direction the mob of sheep disappeared. Drew watches them go, tears at the dead ewe then begins to trot towards me. I watch as he heads my way with obvious intent, I stand my ground ready to allow him to eat with me but he passes by and I turn to watch as he heads for the fence with a huff.

 “Come,”

 I hesitate and he reaches the gate, leaping over the same as when he came in. Drew looks at me once again before turning and loping off, and I glance back over my shoulder when I hear sheep bleating frantically behind me in the distance. As the noise behind me increases some instinct tells me here is not the best place to be and I hurry after Drew. He is over half way back to the car before I catch up with him and at the car I don’t waste time as he quickly begins his change back to human form before reaching for his clothes.

 I am silent with stunned shock as I finish pulling my clothes on and slip into the passenger seat. I glance back at the old Holden ute as Drew hurriedly drives the car out of the bushes and onto the small dirt track.