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Bornes snorted softly and turned around to watch Kaegan go.

"Kaegan," he called out. "Tell Isiah I'm sorry." That had a sort of finality about it. As if Bornes didn't expect to ever really show up again.
"Please," he added as an afterthought.

After that, he watched Kaegan for a few moments, as if reminiscing. Then he turned his back to the man and surveyed his surroundings for what seemed like the fiftieth time. This was going to suck. It was flat ground.

He turned to Kaegan, then back to the horizon. He took his shirt off completely, and folded it neatly so it was a thick square. He then sat down, his golden ankh tattoo on his back glistening in the twilight before he laid on his stomach, on top of the shirt, and hoped to some higher power he could get through the day.

It was easy enough to fall asleep through his exhaustion, but he woke up late in the day in pain. He tried to keep his eyes covered, but no matter what it was still horrible.

The end of the first day didn't come soon enough, and once night fell he got up and forced himself to walk in a random direction in hopes he would find something. He managed to find shelter and decided to stay there rather than risk going through the torture of the sun once more time.

Bornes slept through the second day and the second night he began walking again. With luck he found another shelter but still no food or water. On the third night he found a sharp piece of shrapnel he thought he could use as a knife. He didn't think much of it but kept it anyway. He noticed he was starting to hallucinate. The fourth night came and he had his first seizure. He couldn't remember it happening afterward as he passed out and woke up the next night, with no knowledge of the time he had lost. He'd woken up on that fifth night exausted and not wanting to move. He'd been that way since night three, but no matter how much he tried to push himself he wasn't going to get up that night.

He was dying and he knew it. His stomach was hungering so much he was actually in pain, and thoughts of ending his misery early were only stunted by Kaegan's dog Jane showing up and uncharacteristically licking his face and waking him from his stupor.

Bornes thought it was some sort of hallucination at first, but he reached out and pet the dog with a short whine.
"Oh Jane, Jane you forgive me? Thank you for being here, Jane. I love you."
He pet the animal, its shaggy fur between his fingers comforting him.
Eventually Jane lay down beside him and at some point, after what felt like hours of arguing with himself, he leaned over and broke the neck of Kaegan's partner.

He was too weak to get it right the first time, and he almost felt a little sad as Jane realized what was going on and attempted to get away from him the second, and successful time. The dog's breathing stopped and it lay limp there, Bornes feeling remorse for only a few minutes before he could will himself to continue and skin part of it.

He'd never drank blood before. At first he thought it was going to make him sick. Surprisingly, it didn't. His stomach had shrunk so much that when he finally began to actually eat the disgusting raw meat he could only stomach a few bites before haphazardly stretching the skin over the wound he'd created with the shrapnel and resting again.

He snacked from the dog until the seventh night, when he finally got up some strength to start moving again. He picked up the old loyal pet and carried her with him on his journey further into nowhere, and continued to use her as his main food source until she became too tough and dry to eat from on night thirteen.

He wasn't quite sure what number night it was in his exile, but he figured it had been long enough. It had felt like a year. There was still nothing in this direction, so he decided to turn around and head back toward where he'd come from. He brought the dog with him until he found a suitable shelter for her- laid her under a pile of stray roofing. It would do... He couldn't waste his energy on burying her, or making a suitable monument.

Night fourteen and fifteen passed... He must've made good time because on the morning of day sixteen he had found the old storm cellar again. He went inside and drank some emergency water but stayed away from the food. He slept there too, and returned to the ramshackle of a town he had once called home on night sixteen.

He hadn't looked at himself, hadn't gotten the chance to. He had not been around anyone, other than that dog dog for the longest time, and his looks showed it.

While he was wearing his dress shirt, it was carelessly open to reveal his chest, his ribs protruding from his skin. His black boxers held up more than his pants had. Bornes had given up looking nice so long a go. All of his hair and clothes were full of dirt, even his tail.

On his chest were old, dried tints of blood stained and smeared around, as the hybrid had paid no heed to what was going up against his skin when he had been carrying Jane with him. Around his mouth was the same, some blood smeared over his cheeks as well. Underneath his fingernails were dried gore, his fingertips most likely permanently stained with it. His teeth shared a similar fate, though it didn't seem as gross as his silver hair.

His hair was all over his face, filled with dirt and grease, but also, its ends were tipped in crimson, as if some teenager had decided to do a bad goth dye job. None of the blood was on the back of his head, it was all centered around the front, splattered here and there as if to frame his face. Proof that at some point Bornes had given up eating with his hands and just stuffed his face into a pile of guts. Though for the most part, the majority of his face had survived through the whole ordeal, save his chin and the dribble stains leading from it and down his neck.

He looked like something that had just left from the scene of a horror film.
He had entered the settlement near Kaegan's home, but he had decided to stick to the shadows. Bornes had developed an almost fear of people, having been alone for so long.
Even though most of them were asleep, he could hear every one of whom weren't. After listening to silence for so long, any sort of human voice was like nails on a chalkboard.

He'd managed to find an unoccupied hovel. He didn't know why no one was there- they could've been out, dead, whatever. Bornes was not interested in that. What he was interested in was the food that person had stashed away.
Like a raccoon, the hybrid was immediately in it, eating it.
And when that person came back, they were so shocked by the sight of him that they turned around and decided to go some place else. A good plan too, as Bornes had still held onto his bloodied shrapnel. A tool he would've relied upon to silence a scream should it have come.

Once Bornes had his fill of the food, he had a desire for water, but didn't want to head toward the well. That thing was noisy if he recalled correctly, and he didn't want to alert everyone to his presence. He also wanted to sleep. He hadn't slept much the last few days, but he didn't know where he could sleep without having his space invaded.
He didn't remember where he had lived before, but that didn't matter- he didn't want to room with another person.

After a snort and an unsatisfied growl he crawled underneath the cot in the hovel he was currently in and crawled into his familiar ball, eyes to the door. If that person came back he'd defend his newfound territory.
His muscles screamed of fatigue, but he had mastered ignoring those screams long a go. He may mess up the first time, but eventually the hovel would be his and no one would bother him.

He had the advantage of shock on his side.

Bornes curled his hands into fists, using them as if they were paws near his cheeks as he watched and watched and then heard someone jog into the home. His home. It was not the same person as before.
His fists clenched and his muscles tightened while the hybrid gave a silent snarl.

The other thing said something. Something familar. Q. Q. That was his name, wasn't it? No, a nickname. That name that people used when he had had a gun and killed things for money. Hah. Money. What value did that paper have now? His tail began to weave along the floor, dirt brushing against harder dirt should sensitive ears have bothered to listen.

The person before him seemed distracted. Annoyed. Hopeful. Too many things. So many things Bornes thought he might be able to smell the things this person was. His face looked familar, too. That face, the one he'd stared at so long in a cramped quarters. He remembered, now. That face was always pushed inside of his own book. Bornes once had a book he used to read.
He missed his book.

The hybrid took a halfstep-or what could be called a halfstep, as he was crawling- backward, and crunched himself into a decent pouncing position.

This person. He'd had sex with this person. But that would not stop the wannabe werewolf from defending his territory.
No.
That person would not get his food.
This was Bornes' food.
This was Bornes' house.

If this person did not leave, it would be Bornes' next victim.

The hybrid gave a warning growl.
Go away.

Know how to talk?
Of course Bornes knew how to talk. He was talking just fine.
He growled again, louder.
Could this person not listen?

Bornes retreated under his bed, watching as the person came forward, more into his home.
Nothing was wrong with Q. What was wrong with this person?
"Grrrrrrrrow awray," he barked in his growl, his voice hard and hoarse from non-use.
Leave me alone! he growled again, his tail swatting at the ground, unsure of his next move.

This person was much bigger than he was.
He'd not anticipated such a large person.

Bornes backed himself against the wall, glaring at the person who was now peeking under the cot at him.
This place was small, but Bornes likes small. Small was a comfort, compared to what had happened out there.

But this person... This person's eyes were judging him. Looking down on him. Who was this person to look down on Bornes?! As if this person knew hardship, knew starvation, knew of killing their only friend simply to survive.

His growl stopped, he swallowed, eyes hard. Tried to form words. It took a moment.
"What's wrong with you?" he growled back, wishing he were smaller than he was, wishing his body had been built more like a quadraped. He wasn't human.
He missed Jane.
And his book.

This person... Bornes didn't like this person.
"Leave me alone. This my home now. Get out. You understand?"

Did it? Did this creature understand? Bornes preferred his growls.
Jane understood those. This baffoon didn't. He snorted, pulling his tail up against himself as it could no longer do anything behind him against the wall.

The hybrid let out an inhuman yowl as he was dragged out from the cot. It stopped when he was put down atop the cot and slapped.

He closed his eyes shivered slightly. For someone covered in so much blood, he certainly didn't seem insane enough to attack the person who had just hit him. He grit his teeth a moment, wondering what he should do.

He opened his eyes and glared at the new Ceta, though Bornes was painfully unaware of that fact. He opened his rancid mouth, his breath smelling of rotting flesh and old vomit, huffing.

No, No, this person did not understand that language.
"Of course I know who you are." he finally growled, his upper lip turned in his open mouthed snarl as his gaze locked with Isiah's.

"If you don't leave me here I will bite you," he warned. It seemed like a joke, but the line could not have been said with a more serious tone.

Who knew what was growing in his mouth, anyway. Whatever it was though, if the hybrid bit anyone, the wound was surely to become infected with something.

Bornes snorted again and rubbed his face with the back of his hand before getting off the cot and crawling under it again, curling into a ball on his side watching the doorway.

He could hear their conversation outside. He gave a slight chuff. As if that first person could hurt him. Hah.

Dan, the person whose home had been invaded, looked at Isiah with disbelief. That thing was a person?
He wouldn't dare to say that out loud, not to the Ceta. Dan remembered a rumor going around that Isiah had once befriended, maybe even laid with a strange man with a tail. Was this thing the very same?

Hadn't that person died? He gave a hunh and slowly went back into his hovel. He looked around, didn't see the.. the... Well, he assumed he should call it a person now.

Dan was a nice person. Liked pets. Used to be a tae kwon do instructor while studying zoology. He wasn't exactly sure what he was going to do with his life when he graduated, but he was having fun while he was living. Then the bomb hit and... This. At least the Tae Kwon do had served as a nice basis for this whole Denzien way of living.

He didn't approve of it, but, he wasn't a leader and he didn't want to fight to become one. Kaegan seemed like he was doing a fine job.

Dan saw a glint of something under the bed.
Ah, that sort of made sense.

Dan stayed out of business that wasn't his. He wasn't exactly sure what had happened before, but he had guessed it was something bad. He kneeled down, a few feet from the bed, just to see if the Person-- right, he was calling it a person now-- was really under his bed. He saw a shadow.
Yes, it must be.

His head cocked a bit and his blue eyes stared intently, trying to discern what the shadow really looked like. It had spooked him the first time-- Dan didn't have the best night vision. He was wearing a white dress shirt and khaki pants... Both of which had seen much better days. The white shirt was barely remaining buttoned, the collar itself undone long a go.

"So... Ah... My name is Dan," he stated, a bit confused. How do you talk to an animal-person- whatever?
Isiah had made it seem like the thing was harmless. Dan wasn't so sure.

"What is your name?"

The shadowy figure underneath the bed stiffened a bit, a growl beginning to emit from it, a tail starting to wave around. Certainly didn't sound or act like a person.

"Oh, okay." Dan responded. "This is my home. But you can stay in it if you want. For a few days. I don't want to fight you."

The shadow's growl wavered in its ferocity.

"I want to go sleep now," Dan continued, talking softly, as if he understood. He didn't.
"I'm going to lay ontop of the bed. You can stay down there if you want. If you promise not to kill me in my sleep."

He wasn't entirely sure this thing wouldn't, but if it really was a person, or animal, or some mixture of both, it was capable of understanding a little compromise. Wasn't it?

The shadow moved a bit, tightening its muscles again. It had stopped growling. That was a relief.
"Bring me water," the hoarse voice said. "And I will do as you say."

Dan was almost surprised this thing could talk, after the strange sounds he had heard from Isiah dealing with it earlier. But thank goodness, a compromise. That was good enough.

"Thank you," Dan stated. "I'm going to get the water now."
With that he stood up and went out, a few minutes later coming back with a small plastic container of murky water. He put it down near the edge of the bed, and sat to watch as a bloodied hand came out and pulled it in further underneath the mattress.

Dan briefly wondered if he was housing a murderer.
"You won't kill me in my sleep?" He asked, unable to help himself.

He heard a few gulping sounds, probably the thing...person, yes person, drinking. "No," it finally answered.

"I'm going to go to bed now," Dan said, standing and climbing on the cot lightly, wondering how far the mattress sunk and if the person underneath there would be okay. Then he wondered why he felt compassion for it, since it was supposed to be dead.

He tried to fall asleep anyway.