Crossfire

"They've got enough to take care of right now," she said dismissively. "Sure, they'd be after us, but we have time to get out of arm's reach. And then we'd be gone. Please, Kesh. Please let's go."

Her eyes shone and he abruptly realised that she was serious. In their stolen moments, they had always spoken of leaving the gangs but who would leave a gang? They would hunt traitors down more quickly than they would swat a mosquito away from their fur. But to fend for himself, not to kill daily...or not to kill what he didn't need... Wild animals, feral animals, were fair game and he knew how to hunt. They could go far away. It was a dream, an impossible dream. But he was sick of his dark reality. The only spark of light stood before him, her muzzle parted hopefully and dirt clinging to her soft fur.

Was it a chance worth taking? The chance of escape, of freedom? Looking into the snow leopard's eyes and feeling her warm body against his, Kesh was sure it was. He rubbed his muzzle against hers affectionately and sighed softly, nodding his head in the affirmative, all the tension escaping his body at once. They would go. And if the gangs hunted them down, so be it. They would meet them with lead and steel in their own time.

"I've got your back, Krystal," he smiled, holding her tightly to him, gun held loosely in one paw still. "We'll go tonight, upon their retreat. I've got your back."

She growled and pulled back, hoping against hope that he was serious. The truth was in his eyes. Licking her dry lips, she pulled her teeth back in a feral grin, jerking her head towards the sound of gunfire and, at last, ambulance sirens.

"Let's blow this joint, wolfie."