I felt like a sucker. I left the kids discussing their plans as I took a roundabout path down from the overlook. They would need to go the long way around to not disturb the rabbits, but I picked my way nearly straight down. I was careful of the spongy earth that would send me skidding down the slope if I stepped wrong and made my way into the thorny underbrush.
There was a trail this way, and Seth wanted me to set up tripwires and snares. Like I did in Duvessa's room. Because they thought the rope that Owen brought would work for bunny snares. Not. Because they thought I could set bunny snares. Not.
What I did in Duvessa's room was little more than some advanced cat's cradle. Sure, I wrapped everybody's feet up, but all they had to do was step out of it. I did get the birdbrain pretty good, though.
I let myself picture the struggling raven. Such happiness.
Zigzagging yarn through furniture didn't compare to setting traps. Oh well. I should be more careful about letting people expect things from me. They'd make me work. Like now.
The most annoying bit was I did know how to do this. I knew how to set tripwires. Snares were a bit more fuzzy, but I was pretty sure I knew that too.
And I had no idea how I knew. No, that wasn't right. I knew how I knew. It came from who I was before. I just had no memory of learning it, why I learned it, or anything about it. But I could look at a basket of yarn, or a coil of rope, and know what I could do with it.
Not today, but one day, I'll be getting all that back. And when I do, I'll be kicking the ass of whatever did this. But for now, it was just one more item on the 'shit to deal with later' list.
I got to the place Seth wanted me to set the snares and ducked out of the loop of rope I'd been given. I wasn't sure I could pull this off, but I'd give it a try. First hurdle, how do I attach the rope? I don't have thumbs, I can't tie knots, and there wasn't enough rope here to wind around a half dozen trees.
The whole thumbs thing was a pain in my tail.
I could just do a shit job. I didn't have to put full effort into this. I could lay the rope on the ground and be all 'I did my best!' What could the kids say about that? I was just a cub.
It was pleasant thinking that, but I knew I'd never do it. I was too competitive and had too much pride in my work. Today, anyway. I might be lazier tomorrow.
After taking a look-see at what I needed and where, I got to figuring out how to anchor the rope without thumbs.
I could put a rock on it. But that wouldn't hold if there was tension in the rope. It would either slide out, or the rock would move. And if the caught bunny had some oomph, it could drag the rock with it.
The rope was made of natural plant fibers that would be saggy and stretchy. Not the best to be working with here. Something thin and inelastic would be better, but not what I had. I had to figure out how to work with this.
I could still do loop knots, and a simple overhand knot at the end could work and was something I could tie without thumbs. I could then catch that in the V of a tree, and that would be sort of secure. If I measured and laid this out properly, I could do this, even if getting the loops right would be a pain. I got to work.
The kids gave me a half hour. That was supposed to be enough time for everyone else to do their preparations and get into position.
It was not enough time for me.
But that was fine. I kept doing my work as best I could, and got ready for the moment I needed to abandon it in favor of hunting rabbits the old fashioned way: with claws and teeth.
I had that thought while I was pulling a loop tight with my mouth. I was somewhat startled at how completely I was going native. Or would the term be feral in this instance?
Meh. I was a cat now, and I liked it.
I could hear a commotion in the meadow even though I couldn't see it through the underbrush. Something hit the rope I was holding in my teeth with remarkable force. It jerked the rope out of my mouth. Fortunately I let go in time and it didn't pull out any of my teeth.
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
I did see a rather startled rabbit flipping up in the air, its legs still running in midair.
I leapt at it. I had the jumping range, and I caught that sucker in midair. I didn't know what its power was, but I wanted it. I bit into its shoulder and tasted blood.
The power would be mine.
We landed, me on my feet, and the rabbit on its side. It was still kicking like mad as if it believed it could run while laying sideways. I held it tight.
Now what?
I didn't feel anything, but I tasted blood this time, unlike with the weasels. Did I have the power? Was this even a magic rabbit?
I focused on my whiskers. Yes, this was a magic rabbit. I didn't know if that meant the rabbit would always be magic if I stole its power or not, or I didn't steal the power.
If I successfully stole its power, I didn't want to kill it. I thought that would be a bad idea. What if I needed to ask it how its powers worked?
If I didn't steal the power, then I wanted to keep trying. How could I find out?
The rabbit was roughly the same size as me. I figured I could carry it back to the kids, but it could give me some trouble. And once I got it to them, I couldn't really experiment with stealing powers without them wondering what I was up to.
I hauled my prize away from the tripwire and partially set snare and put it down in a circle of trees. I held it firm with my front paws and peered in the direction of the meadow.
I couldn't see much, but from what I could hear Duvessa had fired a couple of arrows into the meadow, and Seth was blowing rather softly on the magic whistle. It was a very subtle 'stay' command. I doubted it would sooth my prisoner, but it might.
"Hey, man, calm down. I'm not going to hurt you," I said.
The rabbit froze, eyes so wide I thought they'd pop out of its head, and it trembled like it was caught in an earthquake.
"If I was going to hurt you, I'd have done it already. You're safe, you're alive, and you're fine. Calm down, man. Talk to me."
I think it died of a heart attack. The trembling stopped and the wildness left its eyes. It went completely limp under my paws.
"You alright? Talk to me, man. I've got questions for you."
Still no answer.
Welp. This sucked. I repeated 'take its magic' over and over in my head, and licked the rabbit's bloody shoulder.
I had no idea if it worked. Maybe it did. I wondered how to know what I took or how to activate it. Ugh. I may as well have taken nothing.
I let go of the rabbit and sat back.
"Look. I really hope you're not dead. I didn't mean to scare you to death. All I want is a conversation, okay?"
I gave up. I was pretty sure I'd killed it, and I felt pretty bad about that. I hadn't intended to.
Then the rabbit jumped up, spotted me, thumped its hind foot and shot off faster than I could see. In a blink it was gone, until it bashed head first right into a tree and knocked itself silly.
Nice! That thing was . What should I call these? Run Rabbits? Dash Bunnies? And with a simple thump and run.
Well then. I could do that.
I left the rabbit where it lay under the tree it attempted to bulldoze with its skull. I pointed myself in a better direction, one without large obstacles, and gave it a try. I thumped my rear paw and ran.
And I ran as fast as normal.
Fuck.
I did not steal its power. I probably should have expected that, considering the rabbit still had its power.
I turned around and watched the stunned rabbit squirm on the ground. It was pretty dazed and rattled.
Twice, I'd tried to steal its power. The first time when I first caught it, and then here when I licked its blood–which, incidentally, was not nearly as gross as I expected. It was actually tasty.
That meant I was doing something wrong. It was also clear to me I hadn't succeeded at stealing the weasel's power.
I thought back to when I swiped the chicken dodge. I had caught that chicken, I bit it, and I wanted the power. All three things I'd done here. Magic took intent. That should be enough, right? What was I missing?
There wasn't anything more that I could think of. I didn't use any mana consciously. I didn't try to activate anything. I was just thinking about how much I wanted the dodge.
Was that it? I needed to know what power I wanted and was taking?
The rabbit was sitting up now and looking around like it didn't understand where it was. I figured I might as well try again.
I walked back to the rabbit and pounced on it again. I thought about the dash power as I bit the rabbit again. I held on for just a moment, and let go.
"Ahh, ahh, ahh," the rabbit panted at me. It was unsteady on its feet. "Liar!"
I ignored it. I pointed myself in a safe direction and tried the thump and run again.
Still normal. I spun around and dashed back to the rabbit.
Damn thing screamed and thumped, but I caught it with one paw as it began its dash.
A shiver passed from the rabbit through me and my whiskers positively vibrated. I recognized it as the feeling I had when I'd caught the chicken.
I knew I had the power this time.
I let the rabbit go. It thumped and ran. This time its run was no faster than a normal rabbit dash.
I had stolen the power.
Well, I guess that answers the question of whether that chicken still had its power. Wait a second, do I still have the chicken dodge?
As quietly as I could, I bawked.
Yup. Still worked.
This was a delightfully productive trip. Not only did I gain a new power, but I now knew how it worked. And the new power didn't activate with something ridiculous.
I could only steal a power when it was in use. I didn't need to bite my victim, I only needed physical contact at the time the skill was used. I bet I needed to see the power in use first before I could take it, and I needed to be specific about what I was taking.
I went to check on my tripwire. Something had tripped up in it and completely scrambled my partially set snare, but it had kept going. No worries, I'd wait a few minutes. If another one came by, I'd catch that one for the kids.
I could hear from the meadow that things were getting a bit exciting.