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I swear to you, he was going to spit at the man's shoe if it was not because he had a knife sheathed from God knows where and he brought it up to his face. Lafayel's kick was a success and it made the black-haired devil took few steps away but it was not a total victory. The fingers remained wrapped around his tiny wrist and it applied more force as second passed. The strain tried not to grunt and groan in pain, not wanting to please the sadistic scum further Oh he knew he was enjoying this, even from the way he was laughing at his oh so strong and painful kick. He was simply mocking him by letting himself being kicked. The boy felt even more angry than ever.

"You fuck..." He cursed, hissing the rest of the sentence due to the appearance of an object of taboo. A knife. That's right- all that needed to make this cat strain has his tongue tied in silence was an object with pointy tip or edge, like a pair of scissors, or nib of a pen pointed right at him. It was a fear unnaturally instilled into him during his time living with his uncles before he died. His eyes trailed along the knife as he displayed it. He was not sure if the knife was new or recently polished, but it sure was shiny. He gulped.

"why do you insist upon defying me, kitten?"

Lafayel scoffed at his words. His eyes went back and forth from his face and the knife. "What? You- you are not scaring me with THAT! No!" He tried to yank his hand free from the man's hold. His ruby eyes remained to have the same raging flame as before, though noticeable trickles of sweats began to appear under his chin. His feet felt cold too.

"Let me go you vile creature! I'm not staying here like some kind of pet to you! Let me go!" He shouted, yanking his hand harder and harder.

Even though I've escaped the wilderness of oblivion I still can't remember Every time I trace my memory I lose sight of it in the same place I fall into repetitions of the same thing Over and over again Now that I've been reborn, I wander even more let us end this By our own action

SANIBELLE GREENWOOD || I'M SORRY IT'S SHORT! QAQ

There was something about this shop that made the strain has his two cat ears perked up and his gold-like fur tail swung side to side. Looking through the glass windows of the shop, he squirted his eyes to see further inside, wondering what that ball-looking thing was. Something about that ball made his instinct itched.

Well! Once again the wondrous cat strain, Lafayel set on journey to cities on Raduga and this time, he wounded up in Zold. Yes, Zold- he hated the name of the city, let alone the people in it. Because he was shun for being different than others in the town, he could not bring himself to walk in to the city in his human form. The strain stood in front of the shop was not a young man in early twenties with blonde hair but, instead, a domestic tomcat with dirty blonde coat and white coat under chest. He pressed his paws on the glass and stood up on his back hinds so his eyes to see better. The morning was cold and the ground was wet, assuming rain had just passed by the green clan city. Few voices and squeaks heard as passersby walked passed by and took a look at him.

Kids eager to touch his tail, but their parents scolded them not to touch dirty-looking creatures like him.
Adults gave him disgusting glares, as if a cat like him was nothing more but a pest on the busy street. He rolled his eyes and continued peeking through the glass. This was exactly why he left the town. He hated them. People called Zold as the city suitable to live in, but they have no idea just how rude they were. He got back on all four, turned his head behind and licked his damp fur. Few licks on his back and he stopped, feeling as if someone was nearby. His ears twitched over the presence and he looked up to see who.

Whoever this was, he was glad he did snot smelt musky woods and faint blood.

They were bewildered by what they saw in the room. The boy, who they thought was nothing but just a little kitten, has a man twice larger than him lay on the cold floor unconscious. His eyes remained staring on the man coolly as if this was nothing. He simply rolled the man to another side with a light kick to his shoulder, causing him move his hand to his arm and grunt in pain. With his body now facing towards the door, the other men could see his condition. He was in bad shape- Very bad shape. There were cat-like scratches on his face and collarbones and based on the oozing droplets of blood, the scratches were deep enough to cause it. Unlike cuts from a blade, the wounds were painful because they felt sting, like your whole body was covered with paper-cuts. That much of pain can be unbearable.

They shouted 'you' at the young boy, who raised his eyes and glared at them.

The ember-like iris shined in the dark space like a predator eyeing on its prey from behind shadows, waiting for a chance to strike. And now, the chance has finally come and he was not stupid to abide it. Crackling his fingers, Lafayel dashed for the door, lowered his body enough to be able to sneak in the gap between the two men and reached for each man's pocket knife. His movements were swift and calculative that he seemed so flawless and in stealth. Surprised by the sudden approach made, the men reached for the knife on their side waist but the knives were both gone. He spin the two knives between his fingers and once he has the pointy edge of blade pointing the two men's hips, he jabbed the blades forth, thrusting through the men's clothes and flesh and caused the men to shout. He pushed the blades inside further that he thought he could feel the sharp tip grinding the men's hipbone. An instant was enough for him to leap aside and dashed through the hallway but one of the men has not given in to the agony feeling just yet. The strain's tail was grabbed and been pulled by the man, making Lafayel yelped a bit and turned to face his grabber.

A punch hit the young man's low jaw and made him collided with hard wall behind him. Another punch was set flying towards him, but Lafayel dodged and assaulted him with his elbow. The man took few steps back from the collision and that gave the strain enough space to escape and so he took it. This was not an attempt to escape this place. He realized running was not the best solution if he wishes for a freed life. The only way to make sure nobody would try to seize his liberty, was by killing somebody and not just anybody- that man.

He who humiliated him with a ring pierced through his ear as a sign he was his.
He who exploited his weaknesses and made him knelt to the ground.

Azar Luski.

Few men were coming, but Lafayel could not afford to be caught, not when he was this close to his goal. He took a detour and evaded the men. His eyes observed their motions and reactions. They looked everywhere but here. Why? His eyes narrowed slightly as he grinned, flashing his canine teeth between his cracked lips. Of course- could it be this path will lead to the man's room? He turned to face the direction and slowly moved along the passage. Eyes remained alert to any single movement around him. Ears constantly twitched to the sound even of his footsteps. His mind wondered a bit- mostly recounting back his steps and probably a little bit anxiety. He raised his hand to rub a sudden pinch on his pierced ear. He growled.

His eyes caught a space large enough for a man to be in and that made him flinched a bit. He made a determined face and slowly tiptoed to the entrance. He crept on the floor like a baby, carefully placed his knees and hands to make sure he was unheard coming. There he was- the man who he hated the most after his dead uncle. He gritted his teeth so hard it drew blood out. It sting but it was nothing compared to how much he wanted to have this blade run along his throat and make his chest stop waving alive. He analysed the distance once more. This is enough. Any closer and he might notice him coming for his neck. Lafayel brought his free hand front on the ground while his another hand was with the knife he stole from the man earlier. He fixed his feet behind and in an instant he lunged front and drew the knife for the man.

He was this close to have the knife right where it was supposed to be, but it remained hanging in the middle of the way. His whole hand was, in fact. He gritted as he only earned a petty cut rather than a fatal slash from the well-planned attack. Damn it.

The strain grunted as he felt a restraint around his wrist and it grew tighter and stronger. He could feel blood has began to fail flowing correctly from his hand to his body, and the fingers felt numb slowly. He growled like a wild creature, pupils thinned in hatred and teeth clenched hard behind his closed lips. He spatted, with his lips opened his growls heard wild and deep.

"Don't even think you can make me knee before you, you scum!" He shouted, pulling himself away from the man a bit. His eyes drew to the knife and his slowly turned white fingers. He scoffed. He raised his leg for an assault, dropping the knife along so he could make a turn after swing his leg for a kick and grab the knife.