Kat Karnage (Orville vs Hellkats) day 4

It had been the Nakom who had helped him ascend.

Over the course of the day in the Oasis he became accustomed to their fluttering movements, the chime of their wings. When he approached another tribute the tenor of their tune changed. They worried. When he bent beside a pond to admire himself, crown and caped, they went silent with bliss. And when he climbed the rocks in search of more letters or more sunlight they wrapped their little legs around him in resistance.

They did not want him to explore too far or too high and he took that to mean there was a way out.

It was nearly twilight when he emerged from the depths. The Nakom had peeled away, one by one, dropping back into the quiet dark. He could not blame them but he also could not stay. The relic he had found assured him his path was ever onward.

On the sand, under the stars, Orville sat in his gritty mech suit and waited. The muttations howled and the junkwall behind him cried piteously. When the screaming wind reached a crescendo, Orville covered his ears with his hands, shut his eyes and came to stillness. When the storm passed, he turned around and discovered the wall had collapsed right to the edge of where he sat.

He slept that night in a half-torn shipping container.

In the hot, bright morning, Orville awoke to a grumbling stomach. He hopped down onto a steel plank, determined to find something meaty, something fatty, when a giantic cat drops down in front of him.

Orville holds up his hands. "Morning," he says and is surprised to find his voice has become squeaky again. He clears his throat. What had he said to the Nakom, to the Kodoma? What would pacify this creature?

"Would you care to join --"

When she struck, she went right for the duct taped and riveted wound in the center of his chest.

Orville slashed right back, the mech-axe freed from its casings.

Even though the axe glanced off of the big cat, it bought Orville a little space. He scrambled backwards, his suit creaking and moaning. "Shut up," he hissed. Not that he expected to slip away from the mutt pack but could the suit, please, make him seem a little less pitiful?

The cat he'd tried to stab slunk off. The yellow eyes of another fell upon him.

He twisted the forearm of his mech suit, rotating the weapons. He'd only ever tried the launcher once before, when it had saved him. He doesn't have time to steady himself or aim well.

The mutt growls.

And Orville growls right back.

His mech suit fired, the recoil forcing him back a step. The axe turned end over end in the sickly sandy air. It sliced right through the cat's paw, eliciting a murderous roar. Orville grinned from ear to ear. The cannon never failed.

"Ha!" He crowed, hoping his triumph would be enough.

But the muttations were not so easily scared off. "You want some more!?"

It was clear to him that would need some convincing. He gripped the stationary axe, steadying himself by the handle. "Last chance," he warned as his smile faded.