The Little Meow Meow Himself

As Ace ran the killer, Dwight focused on shredding up the totem. It was a lot harder knowing there was less time on the line, especially since the Wraith had more than likely seen the pair near his totem and planned on heading their way once he’d cleaned up the already bloodied-up Ace and strung him up.

Which is what happened mere seconds later after having such a thought, which made the fur along Dwight’s spine lift as he worked more anxiously, working his claws until they ached so he could finish in time. “I’m trying,” he said, sounding panicked as the shimmering figure approached, making his tail bushed out as he dove in with his teeth to pull and rip at strings frantically.

The naga let out a smug huff at the little cat’s petrified expression before turning back to the bear. Surely that was enough to keep the fucker from running away, but keeping him quiet? That was another story. 

The naga’s remark about him made him self-conscious, though, and he finally piped down, ears flattening as he practically melted into the tight grip the killer had on him, miserable and hopeless. It wasn’t even funny, how screwed he was here; a killer that found him annoying keeping him captive, and no one to know where the hell he was - or if they did, they certainly weren’t going to risk their hide to come and rescue him, that was for damn sure. 

Even Wrin came in the living room to get a look at the new cat. At least the fuzzball endet up in banana Dwight’s lab. “Sorry little guy.” Sayd Dwight.

“No,” he mewed. “I’ve just been sort of…poking around,” he admitted, a bit sheepish. He hadn’t been able to find any of his fellow survivors for the duration of the trial until James had found him, and, well…there he was, destroying totems and causing problems.

“You’re a goddamn sad-sack, you know that?” The snake-man rolled his eyes at Dwight’s pitiful statement, scoffing as he coiled the end of his tail around the feline. He kept his grip tight enough to keep his hostage from escaping, but not tight enough to cause any real damage to him. Now that his hands were free, Simon turned his attention back to the bear. The little brat could sit tight for a hot moment while he ate his fill. 

He grimaced. God, please don’t let it be Jake. If it were, he could only imagine the kind of chaos that would ensue from there. Mixing this snarky naga with an equally snarky wolf...well. Maybe not a pleasant thought to have while he watched the beast chow down on his bear. He flinched as a few flecks of blood stained his pure white fur, giving him the impulse to lick it off -- which he fought for a while, because he really didn’t care to figure out what bear tasted like. After a long, hard-fought battle indeed, however, he craned his neck and started to vigorously lick his fur, clearing away the blood and crinkling his nose at the taste. Yeah, just as repulsive as he thought it’d be. He may have been a cat, but he still had the taste buds of a run-of-the-mill human.

“Oh,” he said simply after the naga answered him; well, hell, he didn’t know any better. He could’ve been turned into a creature the same way Dwight was, for all he knew. It was curious, though, thinking about Simon hatching from an egg. Being little and defenseless instead of this giant beast that liked to prey on small, much less imposing animals such as himself. It brightened his mood, actually. He could probably throw around a little baby Simon, and not this freak of nature. He could even bully it the way he was being bullied.

His humor faded when Simon brandished an organ at him, however, his ears flattening with disdain and horror as it was squished and fresh blood splattered all over him again, ruining the nice job he’d just done of cleaning himself off. Okay, maybe he wouldn’t bother. “Understood,” he mumbled quietly, his tail curling up between his legs - well, it would have, if the snake’s massive tail weren’t wrapped around his little body. 

Dwight startled as Jake scooped him up and he dug his claws into his fur on impulse to hang on as he started running, his tail bushing out with fear despite his attempt to act brave just moments before. He couldn’t help it; the scenario was going to shake him to his core no matter how much he’d sworn that he could handle it. It wasn’t a matter of facing it bravely, though - it was one of forcing himself to handle it at all.

“Not if you can just k-keep running,” he said shakily, his ears perking as he heard the distinct ring of the Deathslinger aiming at the pair of them. It’s going to be me first, he thought with dread, and glanced over his shoulder just in time to see the barrel of the gun trained dead on his little body. 

The shot rang out, and a shriek left Dwight as the teeth of the harpoon raked his side, narrowly avoiding a dead-on shot that would have obliterated him. His claws dug into Jake’s scruff and he struggled to hang on as agony ripped down his body, staining his plain white fur a deep red as his eyelids fluttered and his ears pinned back against his head. Distantly, he heard the cold chuckle of the Deathslinger as he sneered at the pair, reloading his weapon slowly, patiently, as if he had all the time in the world to hunt them down. 

He could hear the Deathslinger’s heavy footsteps nearing him, and he had one thought in his mind - I’m going to die here.

However, he heard Jake snarl and suddenly jaws were clamped around him, jostling his wounds and making him hiss reactively in pain - but it was better than being stabbed to death by the Deathslinger, indeed. His eyes fluttered open as Jake ran from the killer, rounding the corner - and then Dwight’s heart sank as the wolf jerked, evidently from being shot by the harpoon. He tumbled to the floor from Jake’s mouth, landing hard on his uninjured side, and whipped around with wide eyes.

The snake-man wrapped his hands around the little cat as he sat up on his haunches. He hissed slightly at the feeling of claws on his fingers, but it certainly wasn’t enough to get him to let go. He wasn’t about to let himself be bested by a creature as small and weak as this, not in a million years. He was an apex predator, after all.

All of the sniveling and whining was getting grating on Simon’s ears. He’d had to listen to his victim’s cry and beg before, but something about the way this one was going off was just downright annoying. Maybe it was his voice? Or maybe it was just down to natural pathetic-ness. Either way it was starting to test Simon’ patience.

“Quit fuckin’ whining, already. Goddamn.” The snake-man growled as he slithered back towards the center of the room. He ran his thumb across Dwight’s head, as if he were petting the little creature. He had to admit, the little guy sure was soft to the touch. Maybe if he got sick of him enough he could use his pelt as a little cushion or something. 

He flinched as he felt a thumb stroke his forehead, but blinked his eyes open confusedly after the gesture. It had felt nice, yes, but it was likely because the snake was appraising his pelt's softness for skinning or something. Certainly not to comfort him; not that he expected it from the beast.

Cat.

There was a cat in front of him, how did such a thing find it's way in the fog?

Carefully and slowly he bent down and held his hand out.

" Pspspspspsp. "

Dwight slowly blinked as he stared up at the mysterious survivor, trying his best to identify who in the Fog this could be. His head tilted on impulse, squinting a little before he instinctively approached upon being called forward. Something about ‘pspsps’ made him want to come running.

Was this it, did this god forsaken place drive him to this point of insanity?

" I- um- what-? "

Give him a minute, Dwight, he's processing.

Dwight's ears twitched and folded back, chagrined, as the strange man spoke in a baffled tone. "Yes?" he mewed. "Sorry. I forgot that's sort of a surprise for some people."

He became a bit distracted by the way the man's bandana was fluttering in the wind, his pupils blowing a little wider with an itch to jump up and bat at it. You're not a cat, Dwight, he told himself sternly, struggling to push the urge down. But damn, did he want to fuck with that bandana.

Maybe just a little bat. No!! A little.

A mostly white cat with some tiny bits of black fur. "Oh my how did you get here?" He crouched down to get a closer look. @silent-daylight-james

Dwight had recently tried helping out with totems. They took him much, much longer to get rid of, but in the long run - especially if the killer paid him no mind - it benefited the team greatly. He'd lost count of how many times a potential NOED had been thwarted by his efforts.

He was in the midst of shredding the twine holding together a totem when he heard a voice behind him, startling him and causing him to turn around with his tail bushed out in fear -- that is, until he recognized the survivor as an ally. He blinked slowly and peered up at him quietly, looking around and perking his ears in mild alarm before he relaxed and smoothed his coat out again. Okay, no sign of the killer. "Hello," he mewed, returning the curious gaze. James, then - he'd been in trials with different ones before. He recognized that sad face. "I, um - I'm Dwight."

The sight of the little cat bouncing wildly around the cage was downright hilarious to Simon, and he let out a guffaw. Sure, he expected the cat to have a reaction to the sheer volume of the music, but he wasn’t expecting the feline to go popcorn itself around the cage like that. He certainly didn’t expect for the cat to break itself out like that either, unfortunately. As soon as Dwight started to book it out the door, the naga hissed as immediately trailed after him.

“Get your ass back here, you little shit!”

The little fucker was nimble, he could give him that, he was light on his feet like a rabbit and Simon had missed his first few swipes and bites at the cat as he pursued. But the naga had years of experience with chasing down fast prey before, successfully hunting down speedy deer, foxes and hares on multiple occasions. He lunged forward, pinning Dwight down with his clawed hands as he caught his breath.

He writhed desperately, going so far as to claw at Simon’s hands to try and free himself, but it was in vain; nothing he could do would free him from this prison. A pathetic noise left him before what could only be akin to a sob broke free from his little mouth, his tail bushed out with fear as he begged, “Please let me go-- n-no one’s gonna come for me-- no one cares, they don’t care, I’m just gonna die here-”