| Kismet's Gamemakers (D8) - THGRP |

Instructions

「 ✦ 1. Showtime ✦ 」 Kismet waited restlessly, heart pounding in their chest in line with the tick... tick... tick... of the clock. Now was certainly the time to redeem himself for his mishap during the parade. It couldn't afford getting distracted again. Not with the life-or-death situation he had unfortunately fallen into. It had to impress the Gamemakers and the citizens of the Capital. Their life depended on it. And when, "Kryvo Mellotiko," sounded from the loudspeaker, Kismet rose to their feet, placing one paw in front of the other until he reached the door. Now or never. 「 ✦ 2. The Obsidian Oracle ✦ 」 The bird screamed. But not quite. Several mechanical pops— somehow both high and low pitched at the same time— emitted from the avian's mouth, like firecrackers. Or an alarm. An extremely beneficial one. Kismet's ears snapped up just in time to hear the sound of rushing water, just as it chased after their paws. He did not hesitate. Kismet had always been fast, due to his size. What he lacked in physical strength, it made up in speed. And right now, that couldn't have been more helpful. He weaved gracefully through the forest, just like when Papa had shown them how to sew when it was a child. He pursued onward, putting a good distance between himself and the persistent threat of the rapids. It was gaining on the bird, nearly close enough to snatch the thing's long tailfeathers between their teeth. But then the sicklebill veered upwards. 「 ✦ 3. The Canopy ✦ 」 Kismet let out a hiss of frustration but didn't allow itself to falter. He pivoted sharply to the left and sprinted for the nearest tree, sinking his claws into the bark and spongy moss that covered it. Without taking its eye off the bird, Kismet scaled the tree. It likely wasn't as good of a climber as those from 7 or 11, but he managed to scramble up to the nearest branch and balance carefully on the edge of it. A quick exhale. They leapt. Fortunately, its paws met the bough of another large tree without any misfortune. The bird did not cease its flight, so neither did Kismet. It chased the bird through the canopy, swiftly and sure-pawed. He didn't allow himself to overthink it. That would lead to a mistake. He just had to trust itself. But the bird could fly. Kismet could not. They were at a much larger disadvantage aboveground. For a moment, they paused. The roaring water below was certainly an issue, but not a very pressing one at the moment. It had managed to outrun it so far, but they didn't know how long he had before it caught back up to them. He needed a new strategy. And it luckily didn't take long to find one. 「 ✦ 4. Nets and Notions ✦ 」 Kismet sunk its teeth into the thinner lianas that hung throughout the forest, gnawing at them until they had a good bundle or so. With shaking paws, they hurriedly entertained the vine tendrils together into a makeshift net, silently thanking Father for teaching it how to weave. It wasn't perfect, but it would do. He slung the net over its shoulders and headed off, catching back up to the bird. Twisting their head back to grasp the trap between their teeth, he used all of their strength to hurl it at the bird. Its own paws slipped beneath them. They prayed he wouldn't miss. He didn't. 「 ✦ 5. Rex ✦ 」 There was a squawk, that awful bird's squawk, and the two of them plummeted to the earth below. Luckily for Kismet, enough water built up to break his fall. It was unlucky for the bird, however, who still trapped under the net. The pitiful thing was flapping around desperately in the water. Kismet watched it with strange, cold relief. He had caught it. They had won. The water seemed to cease, but nothing alerted Kismet that it was over. Did they have to terminate the creature? It watched the sicklebill for a moment. Watched it writhe and struggle. Watched it panic. It felt all too familiar. And for a moment, they were reliving that night all over again. The bird was his sister, eyes wide with fear. Kismet was the lynx. The predator. The threat. The one thing he had sworn not to be. It made him feel sick. But it didn't matter anymore. After their paw submerged the pathetic creature, its loathsome, unnatural squawks were no longer a bother. And Kismet adored the silence.