Big Dang Heroes (ain't we just?)

[Glowy]

Scene One: An Unlikely Partnership.

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Everett returned to consciousness lying in a frigid mountain stream, the face of his unknown savior hovering uncomfortably close to his own. Wait... was his face dripping? Had the tom who’d saved his life splashed water in his face? The audacity of it was astounding! He raised his paw up and wiped the offending droplets from his nose, ears, and whiskers, thoroughly put out.

His mouth opened and he prepared to speak, lecture the stranger roundly for interfering in his business. A tom’s revenge should be his own. Where had that blighter gotten off to, while Everett lay in the stream, getting his face cleaned by this fool? He’d have to resume tracking as soon as he...

Hold on just a moment. Everett had noted the position of the sun in the sky just before he’d lost consciousness. The sun was in a different spot now. The day even smelled different. He craned his neck to get a view of his wounds, expecting to see some blood still trickling- they had long scabbed over. What had happened? How long had he been out? Where were they? Why was the stranger still with him? His head began to spin and he found himself focusing once more on the face of the tom who’d saved his life.

“You. Yes, you. Face-man,” he began, “Your eyes are beautiful.” Everything looked hazy and backlit from some distant room where the lights were not constant, but flickering. Constantly flickering... and more water in the face! His vision cleared but he spluttered helplessly for a few moments anyway, shaking his head. It took a decided amount of effort to get himself into an upright position, but he managed without Stranger’s help.

“I’ll give you the benefit of a doubt ‘cos you’ve been out for a day,” Stranger said with a mildly disapproving look. “Also, I’m a lawman. Not a face-man.”

A whole day? Everett shook his head again. He found himself instantly humbled. How close had he been to death? What did he owe this stranger?

“Have I truly? In that case, I am more in your debt than I originally realized.”

“Suppose you are.”

“Is there anything I can do to repay you?”

The stranger sighed. “Expect you’ll be wanting some of this.” He motioned to the corpse of a bird, neatly removed of feathers. “You’ll want to eat that nice and slow-like.”

Everett was famished, but did as he was told. He owed it to the tom to follow his instructions. Arguing with the cat that saved one’s life is never a good idea. Besides, Everett was good at following orders. It was all he’d ever done, it seemed. Whatever objections he might have he was able to file away in the back of his mind. They all got buried eventually.

“My thanks, good sir,” Everett said, licking his lips, “For the excellent catch, as well as your diligent care. You would have been justified in simply leaving me there, I know.”

“Nah. Ain’t no good in lettin’ ya die now, son. Not on my watch.”

“I owe you my life, Stranger.”

“Virgil.”

“Very well, then, Virgil. I owe you my life. I should very much like to repay you for this, though I am certain you feel that it is unnecessary. Please, allow me to accompany you.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You think I’m useless, do you not?” Everett drew his nose up in indignation. “How unfair of you, lawman, to make such an assumption simply because you had to rescue me from an insane... I'm not quite sure how to refer to him, as a matter of fact. In any case, I would have you know that while I may not be the most skillful in the art of combat, I had been tracking that tom for three weeks before we finally encountered one another. Never once did I lose his trail.” That got Virgil’s attention. “Would you like to be able to do more than stumble upon minor tussles in the forest, perhaps even track down some of the more dangerous criminals? Keep me around, and you can.”

“Well, then, son. Seems we have an agreement. You look after yourself, and you’ve got yourself a partner.”

“I give you my solemn word that I will do everything in my power to aid you, Virgil. I swear it upon the memory of my mother. Shall we be partners, then?”

“Yep. Partners.”

Everett could not remember the last time he’d felt so relieved. He rose to his paws, stretched, and then the two set out in no direction in particular, maintaining a relatively slow pace because of Everett's injuries. After a long while of walking along in silence, Everett was able to deduce that Virgil was not much for talking. This was going to be a right jolly time, he could tell.

“... I am called Everett, in case you were going to ask.”

"Oh? I was just gonna call you Noser. Or maybe Hound." Virgil smiled, Everett tried to contain his shock at Virgil's impudence, and the budding buddies kept on a-walkin'.

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[Glowy]

Scene Two: John-Morgan.

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"Okay, son, picture this. You've been given a contract, so you're walkin' along all sneaky-like, it's pitch black out, your tail feels like it could be snapped off it's so cold, and then out of the darkness in front of you comes a voice. This voice is deep and gravelly and grave. Do you know whose voice I'm talkin' 'bout, now?"

The response was immediate. "You're talkin' 'bout The Lawman, Daddy!"

"Yes, The Lawman. He is the enemy of our way of life, and if you ever see him, you shouldn't be afraid to rip his throat out. He's stopped me from doing lotsa things I was meant to be doing."

"You've seen The Lawman?" Eyes were wide, attention fully fixed upon the storyteller. Now all of his charges were paying attention. This was good.

"Yep." Of course not. All he had was hearsay, but he couldn't let the children know that. "He sure don't look like much at first glance. He just ambles on his way, lookin' half-asleep. You look closer, though, and you'll see his pelt all covered in scars. It's said that he's got a scar for every cat he's ever killed." The tom's gaze and tone softened when the children began to whimper. "Don't you worry about me, though. I ain't gonna let him get a scar from me! I'll always be here to train you and look after you."

The tom picked up a whisper from the back of the group. It was silent, so it was easily done. "The Lawman sounds strong and brave. I wanna be just like him some day!" Oh, was that ever the wrong things to say within earshot of the self-proclaimed leader, the maker of chaos and harbinger of woe to anybody who would exist outside of his leadership! Silently he worked his way back to the small, pathetic, quivering, absolutely disgusting lump of useless fur that wanted to be like his enemy. If you looked deeply into his eyes, you could almost see the flames of his anger, anger that he thought was actually righteous.

"You wanna say that again?"

"No, Papa John."

"You wanna be strong like the Lawman? Really? Come on. I'll show you how you get to be strong." He picked up the little scrap by the scruff of her scruffy little neck and was seriously planning on making an example of her. This example would make a lasting impression on the minds of his students, because the consequences would last. Be like The Lawman, hah!

Then, from the darkness... a voice. Deep and gravelly and grim and lazy. "I wouldn't do that if I was you, son."

He set the upstart down and let her scamper off to her little friends. A wave of his tail sent his pupils into the bushes where they would be able to see but not be seen. The Lawman was here, and they were going to get to watch their Papa deal with this scum. Who did he think he was, trying to hold the forest to a set of laws? Laws were worthless. They all got disobeyed in the end. Laws protected nobody!

By the time Virgil stepped into the light, leaving Everett in the shadows, the tom who called himself Papa John was shaking in anger. He had to stamp down the bile rising in his throat. "What are you doing here?"

Virgil stared back at the dozens of eyes staring out of the bushes, small and luminescent. What was this guy up to with these children? "I think that's a better question for you, hoss," he drawled, blinking.

The Lawman's even stare was unnerving. John-Morgan found himself squirming. Before he could respond, The Lawman was speaking again. "I really could care less what you done been doin' here, honest. But I know what you're gonna do." His eyes flashed. "Leave. Get outta my forest. I won't abide," that was a word he'd learned from Everett, abide, "child-beaters livin' under my trees. This place is protected. And I'm gonna let you off with a warning this time. Next time you won't find me nearly as generous, so I suggest you hike up your useless tail and high-tail it outta here."

John-Morgan drew himself up. He wasn't about to be shamed in front of his students, his children! No, sirree-bob. This was his place. He had been building up a reputation of his own ever since... well. He didn't like to think about it and nobody liked to hear about it. That thing that had happened. That thing that had led to him becoming The Hitman. John-Morgan, The Hitman, was not going to be driven away so easily by Stranger, The Lawman. It would take more than words and a lazy, intense stare to drive him off! He had work to do.

"Do you have any idea who it is you're dealing with? You can't scare me. I've stared down death and come away with nothin' so much as a scratch!" He actually had faced death gasping for breath, tumbling out of control, completely at the mercy of nature, but who needed to know that? John-Morgan kept those details close to his heart.

It was clear that The Lawman was not going to respond. In fact, he looked just about ready to take his leave and utterly embarrass John-Morgan. Well, that simply couldn't be had! As The Lawman turned away, The Hitman made his move. Ah, but he had been prepared! A few expert hits left John-Morgan gasping for breath yet again, winded and defeated on the forest floor.

"Leave," was all The Lawman said before retreating into the shadows, limping. Everett was waiting for him, looking concerned.

"You know, Virgil, I'd be disinclined to believe that he will be vacating this stretch of the woods any time soon."

"Yep."

"Does that not bother you?"

A pause. It stretched for a while. "Yep."

"What do you plan to do?"

Virgil shrugged. He would have to wait until they came across that guy again, and he'd have to be a bit more forceful. Maybe draw blood. It was impossible to tell. Maybe they'd get lucky and that loser would realize the error of his ways and quit beating up on those helpless young things. That way there wouldn't need to be any further confrontations.

"You have some impressive fighting skills. Could you perhaps teach me? I would hate to be confronting somebody like that and be useless." Everett figured that a change of subject couldn't hurt. Virgil was starting to brood. He hated it when his friend brooded.

Virgil gave his friend a strange look, smiled, and then nodded. "Yep."

"My thanks."

"Sure thing. We can start after rustlin' up some grub."

"I concertedly hope you do not mean actual grubs."

Virgil laughed. "And why not? Chock full of good stuff. If ya can't find a good piece of prey, grubs. Just grubs. That's all."

"... that's disgusting."

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