Luna had accepted the fact that she was probably going to die.
It had really been a sure thing from the beginning, to be honest. Her tribe might have called it "banishment," but everyone knew what would happen to a lone mouse left to fend for herself out here in the wild. It would be a matter of "when," not "if." There were just too many predators out here, too many ways for a mouse to end up on the dinner plate of someone else. Her species had to depend on friends and the strength of numbers to survive. She had thought she could depend on her tribe; it had turned out she couldn't. She was doomed.
She hadn't been out here for even seventy-two hours before she realized she was being hunted. She caught the scent on the wind -- something big, something powerful, following her. It was doing its best to stay downwind, but had been betrayed by a stray breeze. This was it: this was how Luna would die.
She didn't plan on making it easy, though.
First, she had led her hunter into an area of the mountains with more trees -- more places to hide. Now, she used every trick she knew to escape the hunter. She did her best to avoid leaving tracks in the freshly-fallen snow, and when she did, she doubled back, leaving false trails. When she came across a small stream that wasn't frozen over, she crossed it, leaving another trail, then came back and walked down the stream a ways, even though the freezing water made it feel like her toes were going to fall off. She climbed trees and leaped from branch to branch. She did everything she could to shake her pursuer.
Sometimes it seemed like it was working. But then she would hear the snap of a twig or catch another whiff of that scent. Her tricks were slowing the hunter down, but not well enough. It was getting closer.
Her heart pounded against her ribs.
Maybe she had time to double back again... leave a second false trail, and go back through that stream. If she could just get enough of a lead to find a good shelter...
Luna's thoughts were interrupted as she felt a paw come down on her shoulder.
"Well, hello there, little mouse."
Swallowing hard, Luna turned and looked up.
The female fox towered over her (of course, Luna was a mouse -- everyone towered over her) and looked down at her with a smile on her long muzzle. She had a slender but wiry build, and her fingers dug into the fur of Luna's shoulder.
Luna tried to yank herself away, but the clawed fingers only dug in tighter. She cursed under her breath. How had she been so stupid!? She had been so concerned with losing this other, larger predator, she hadn't even noticed the smaller one sneaking up on her! It was an idiotic mistake: even if this fox wasn't as terrifying as her unseen hunter, she could still make an easy meal of the mouse.
Which seemed to be exactly what she was planning on doing.
"Now now," the fox said, shifting her paws down to grasp Luna by her upper arms. Luna found herself lifted into the air and staring straight at the fox's muzzle. "You only just got here. Why leave so quickly?" The fox opened her mouth, giving Luna a perfect view of her teeth and tongue, and the dark entrance to her gullet behind them.
"W-wait!" Luna exclaimed. "Don't! There's something..."
But the fox was apparently done waiting. She pushed Luna's head forward, and her protests were muffled by the fox's warm tongue pressing into her face.
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Artemis rested on her knees and paws, her head close to the ground. The mountain lion closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, allowing the myriad scents of the woods to flow into her. Snow, trees, wildlife...
And, there it was: mouse. She had the trail again.
This was proving to be one of the most difficult prey she had ever hunted. That trick with the stream had been especially devious; when the trail had suddenly disappeared, Artemis had been sure she had lost it for good.
She wasn't sure when she had last had this much fun.
Now she had the trail again, and her quarry couldn't be far off. She would catch up with them any minute now, and then the chase would be over. It was almost disappointing, really.
It was even more disappointing when she entered the clearing to see a mouse's tail disappearing into a fox's mouth.
No. Hell no. She had spent the better part of two days following this mouse, and her prize was not going to some fox who just happened to stumble into it by sheer luck. "Hey!" She shouted through bared fangs as she leaped into the clearing.
The fox jumped in surprise, even as she swallowed the last of the mouse down into the squirming bulge of her belly. Her eyes opened wide as she turned to see Artemis bearing down at her.
Hampered by her large stomach, the fox didn't have time to get out of the way. The larger predator slammed into her, wrapping a paw around her throat and pushing her up against a tree. Artemis brought her muzzle to within an inch of the fox's, her teeth bared.
"Mine."
The fox tried to respond, but it only came out as a strained gurgle. Still holding the fox against the tree with her left paw, Artemis lifted her right, bringing her fingers to a point. Keeping her claws sheathed, she rammed the paw past the fox's mouth and into her throat.
The fox gagged and convulsed. She tried to push Artemis away, but the mountain lion was bigger and stronger than the fox; it was like trying to hit a brick wall.
Artemis shoved her paw deeper, until her arm was in the fox's mouth up to her elbow. She felt around until her fingers found fur, then she yanked hard.
The mouse came out in one smooth motion, while the fox retched and fell to her knees in the snow.
Artemis looked the mouse over. She didn't look particularly impressive; small, less than half Artemis' own height, as was normal for a mouse. She had white fur with black around her paws, and a black crescent marking around her left eye. Though she looked terrible at the moment -- understandably so, with her fur sopping wet and her body shaking with fear -- she was actually kind of cute. But she certainly didn't cut the figure that Artemis would have imagined after leading her on such a difficult chase.
Artemis' attention was drawn away from the mouse as she heard a sound in the snow. The fox had started to try to crawl away. Artemis responded by reaching down and grabbing the scruff of the fox's neck with her free paw, lifting the smaller predator into the air.
"I-I'm sorry," the fox gasped, still fighting for air. "I didn't know she was y-your prey! You can take her!"
Artemis grinned. "Why would I do that," she said, "when I now have an even bigger meal?"
The fox's eyes went wide as Artemis lifted her to her mouth.
--------
Artemis let out a belch, the taste of the fox still lingering on her palette. She ran her tongue across her lips and smiled. The fox had gone down fairly easily -- she had tried to fight, of course, but her squirming had availed her little. Artemis ran her fingers across her belly; the fox didn't exactly make a large bulge, but she could definitely feel the mammal squirming inside her, and she hoped she continued to put up a fight.
She turned her attention back to the mouse, still hanging from her other paw. She had watched the entire thing with wide-eyes, barely even trying to escape. She must know she couldn't get away at this point.
It almost pained Artemis to do this, especially after all the trouble she had gone to, but she was no longer hungry. She opened her paw, letting the mouse fall to the ground, where she landed on her feet. She could let this one go; the mouse had earned it.
The mouse stared up at her, standing at the ready, as though waiting for Artemis' next move.
The mountain lion simply shrugged, patted her belly, then turned and walked away.
--------
By the time Artemis got back to the small cave in the mountains that served as her den, it was already getting dark outside. She yawned, stretched, then settled down on floor to sleep and digest her meal.
She had been lying there for a few minutes when she felt something furry press against her back.
She started and turned her head quickly to see the mouse from earlier. She had curled up next to Artemis, pressing against her back.
"What are you doing?" Artemis asked.
The mouse made no attempt to move. "Sleeping."
"Here!?"
"I almost froze to death last night. I don't have any other shelter. This way, we can both stay warmer."
Artemis found she couldn't argue with that logic. In order to be able to see the mouse without craning her neck, she rolled onto her back, and the mouse repositioned herself, snuggling up against the mountain lion's side. "You know I still want to eat you, right?"
"Yes. But not tonight, right?" The mouse reached an arm around Artemis, placing a paw on her belly, inside which the fox was still gently squirming. "You're not hungry now. That's why you let me go earlier."
"Yes, that's right," Artemis said, nonplussed. "But aren't you worried I'll eat you tomorrow when I wake up?"
"I doubt you'll be hungry right away. Your species usually hunts at night anyway, right? I'll leave before you get hungry again."
"I'll just start hunting you again."
"That's fine."
Artemis' eyes bugged out. "That's 'fine!?'"
"Yeah. Because you're obviously the apex around here. If you're hunting me, nothing else will be."
That brought Artemis up short. She couldn't argue with that logic, either.
"And it's not like I have to escape you forever," the mouse continued, "I just have to evade you long enough for you to find something else to fill that belly. Then I can come back and sleep here again."
Artemis had to choke back a laugh. "Are you planning on doing this all winter?"
"If I have to."
"What if I refuse?"
"You could always eat me now, or try to force me out of your cave. But I don't think you're hungry, and the latter would be a waste of energy."
Artemis shook her head. She wasn't sure if this mouse was insane, or some kind of genius. Staying this close to one of her predators was clearly crazy.
But she remembered how much fun hunting the mouse had been. Would it really be so bad to have another shot at her tomorrow?
And it did feel nice, having another warm body curled up next to her in the cold cave.
"This isn't a game, you know," Artemis said. "If I catch you, I will eat you."
"I wouldn't expect anything less."
"Why are you trusting me like this?"
"I don't trust you," the mouse said. And the arm that was wrapped around Artemis' body ever-so-slightly tightened. "But I think I can depend on you."
Artemis wasn't sure how to respond to that.
So she brought her arm down, wrapping it lightly around the mouse's shoulders. The mouse responded by snuggling closer to her side.
Artemis yawned and closed her eyes. It was going to be an interesting winter.
