Author's Notes: Well, guess this is officially the very first fanfic with both Leon and Panther as the leads in a story. This is my entry to The 'Open' Forum's Prompt Contest (hosted by Chimerical Knave), which takes place in between 64 and Assault.

Just doing a bit of experimenting. Hopefully it works out. Enjoy!

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far from pardoned

pǝuopɹɐd ɯoɹɟ ɹɐɟ

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It was all a dim blur when Leon Powalski opened his eyes.

The chatter from the pub broke his focus. He sighed, silencing the noise with his mind, two hands resting in the pockets of his cloak. Perched up against a pillar, he scanned the room, table by table. His eyes were quick, with a sharpened gaze, as his mind picked apart every nook and cranny. One of them should be here.

There he was, three tables down and two to the left; a rat in a dusty trench coat and a brown fedora sat down in the corner with a beer in hand, grey fur almost blending in with the walls and shadows. His posture was stiff; he was glancing around as well.

The corners of Leon's mouth curled up.

"Don't screw up, now."

But it fell back into a thin line again.

The rat soon stood up, his drink now empty. Leon watched as he walked across the room, pushing open the back door next to the bar counter with a creak. That was Leon's ticket out. Looking around, he followed the rat outside through the door and into a dingy alleyway. His footsteps mimicked the rat's, in complete unison along the dusty pavement.

He pulled out his blade from his pocket. The strides got longer; the distance got shorter. The rat's ear twitched. He turned.

Leon thrusted the knife in. The rat's eyes widened and he dropped to the floor twitching. Leon walked around to face him. He pulled the rat's collar up to meet him at eye-level with one hand. His other hand took out the knife and glided the blade along the other's throat.

"Say, you got a nice bounty on your head," Leon whispered. "Know who I am?"

The rat squirmed in his grip. His breathing got heavier, encouraging Leon to sink the blade deeper. A gasp. "W-who the hell are y-you?"

He was squeaking. Wonderful.

"You'll know soon enough. It's not that hard to figure out. Before that though, I have to wonder. Do you know who sent me?"

One twist of the arm, and the rat squealed. Leon laughed.

"Someone with a grudge, you know."

The rat shot him a glare. What a shame. Such a waste. The next to go was the rat's other arm. Another twist, and bones cracked. Soon, a silent plea: squeak, squeak. The rat was in tears now. Boohoo.

"The kid said 'Boohoo' too."

Leon's eyes widened. Here too? Why? The rat had fallen silent, but the voice did not. Laughing. It just kept laughing. Why wouldn't it stop laughing? Leon clutched his head with one hand, eyes closed tight. With the other hand holding the knife, he plunged it into the rat.

"It was your fault, after all."

He pulled the knife out. Another laugh and the voice echoed. Shut up! The knife plunged. Repeat. Mind screaming: Shut up!

"It'll always be the same—"

Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!

Leon was panting now. Slowing breaths, slowing chest. Silence. Just the way he liked it. He tore the knife out of the rat's chest, wine drops dripping on the pavement. And the body? He let out a chuckle. Damn. The rat was dead. Mental check: another name to tick off his list. Perhaps he overdid it. Again, no less. Now he just wanted to finish his job, pretend this day never happened, and head back to his Wolfen. He imagined what his boss would say about this, or perhaps, what he wouldn't say. It wasn't like this was the first time.

Soon, the cold barrel of a gun was pressed against the back of his head. One clack, and then more silence. Well, damn. Leon knew what was coming. He breathed in, and breathed out. Then he chuckled.

His hands stayed down.

A dark-purple-furred panther holding a rose stepped out of a royal-blue Skycar, locking it with a push of the button wrapped around his finger. His paws stayed down by his side, ready to pull out the blaster on his left at any given time. With the dusk taking its full hold of the sky, the streets remained empty and quiet. Rows of lamp posts lit up the sidewalks. All around, glass skyscrapers towered over the panther, but he knew he was going to tower over them someday. Ambling by, he kept a careful watch of his surroundings, eyes scanning the area without moving his head.

A vixen in a red, spaghetti-strap dress stood next a parking meter in front of him. He couldn't take his eyes off of her, that svelte, copper-furred figure. High heels, a purse, a short-cropped hem above the knees: all the signs of one with experience, especially considering the kind of area this part of the city was.

It wouldn't hurt to try, right? The panther cleaned himself up, fixing his white dress shirt and navy pants while sticking the red rose in his chest pocket. He decided to take his chances anyway; he just couldn't help himself.

"What's a fine vixen like you doing all alone?" the panther called out as he approached her.

She raised an eyebrow, staring at the rose in his shirt pocket and then back at him, before smiling. "A feline like you should keep his paws to himself."

A feisty one, indeed. This couldn't have been a first for her. It shouldn't hurt to play around for a while, right? "But how could I resist when you're dressed like that? Are you waiting for anyone?"

"Yes, I am. But he's not here at the moment."

The panther stroked his chin, and then smirked. "That's not right, keeping a beauty waiting. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Panther Caroso. Who knows if you have heard of me on some occasion or two. And you are?"

Turning around, she held out a paw. "Just a face you won't need to remember."

"Really? Then how come a friend of mine has told me a lot about you?" Panther asked, taking her paw into his own, noticing her eyes widening a bit. Good. He had her attention. "How about I take you to the under-sea restaurant near here? It's the finest around. My treat."

"Actually, there's a place I have to go to." How troubling; she caught on. "But I wouldn't mind if you walked with me for a while."

"A walk it is, then."

He flung an arm over her shoulders, holding her by his left side. Together, they walked down the empty street. Panther noticed the vixen eyeing his blaster; her face contorted with worry.

"A Winestay F42," she said without any notice.

"How did you know that?"

She snapped back into focus, a paw covering her mouth. "I… A friend of mine mentioned it to me before."

"Well, your friend knows his stuff, then. This is the best model in the market." He smirked. "Only the best for the best, after all."

She let out a nervous chuckle. "A gorgeous model, indeed—"

A sudden ringing sound in Panther's pocket interrupted her. "Pardon me." Taking out his cell from his stuffed pocket, he picked it up. "This is Caroso. What is it?"

As he spoke on his cell, the vixen wrapped her right arm around his waist. They stayed that way for a while, even as they walked past a hunched, cloaked figure, neither making eye contact with him. Seconds later, they heard a cackle from behind them. Panther stole a quick glance over his shoulder, spotting the cloaked figure laughing there.

Then he stared at the vixen for a while, still listening to the speaker. "You already gave me the instructions a few days ago. It'll be done tonight," he said on his cell before flipping it closed and stuffing it back into his empty pocket.

The vixen soon pulled her right paw behind her back. Then her eyes widened. "Oh my goodness, I'm afraid I have to take my leave now. I forgot that I promised to meet up with someone earlier."

"Oh, that's a shame. Perhaps we'll meet again someday."

"Perhaps we will, then."

Such a deep, melodic voice, one he wouldn't forget anytime soon. "It was a pleasure." He took her left paw and planted a light kiss. After she flashed him a smile, she dashed off down the street, never bothering to look back.

As Panther watched the vixen run towards a corner, he rested his paws against his side, ready to pull out the blaster on his left side at any given time. He had just received a job to do, after all, but first, a quick trip to the restaurant shouldn't hurt. His paw dug into his right pocket, only finding his cell at the bottom. Then he chuckled.

Well, well, well. A feisty one, indeed. Looked like she made off with his wallet and credits. He shouldn't have let his guard down, but that wasn't going to be a problem. He knew they'll see each other again soon.

Panther ran after her, taking out his blaster as he did.

Leon walked out of the alleyway, feeling his knife rustle in his pocket. A small trail of red shoe prints and dots followed him. He had an interesting client. Five targets. One was down, two of them were fighting with each other, another was going to head to the pub, and the last one…

The comm in his ear buzzed. Perfect timing. Leon stuck a claw on the comm's button. "Boss, did you get the—?"

"I did," a gruff voice said. "But we won't let him get away with it."

"Yeah, I figured as much. Where should we meet?"

"Den's bar. Our client gave us a fake address, so I'm tracking down where he's at. He's out looking for his kid, so I'll be done in a bit. Meanwhile, you head there as soon as possible."

"Alright. Don't worry about the rest of the hit list, boss. I'll take care of them. See ya soon."

Then Leon heard a grunt from the other side of the line before the comm turned off. Figures. His claw released the button. So he was right. As he walked down the street, he reassessed his situation. Two of his targets were friends, but the other two had a questionable relationship. Maybe heading to the bar was a good thing to do. If he remembered it right, one of his targets—a rat—should be on his way there now.

Then he spotted a small figure hiding behind a lamp-post.

Leon stopped walking. He stuck his head around the post, and the figure cowered away. Leon chuckled. It was just a child, a copper-furred fox.

"Hey," Leon called out. The child peeked out from the lamp-post. "What's a kid like you doing here? You lost or something?"

"H-have you seen m-my mama?" How adorable; he was stuttering. This should be good.

"And you think someone like me would know?"

The kid stared at the bottom of Leon's cloak, down at where red blotches stained its hem. "B-but I saw her bump you."

Leon froze. The kid saw him. He frowned; he couldn't leave any witnesses alive. One hand rested in his pocket, holding the handle of his knife. The other hand brushed the blaster on his side.

"Well, ain't this a sight to see."

Go away, Leon hissed.

"The 'great' Leon did it once. You could easily do it again."

He stayed silent.

"Why bother trying? He's just like that kid from before—"

JUST SHUT UP!

The kid stared at him. "M-mister…?"

Leon groaned. Time was ticking. He glanced over his shoulder, noticing the trail of splotches under his feet leading into the shadows of the alleyway. Looking back at the child, he sighed. The hand in his pocket released the knife in his grip.

"Follow the trail and you should be able to find her."

Then Leon continued walking, never making eye contact with the child as he did. He heard footsteps from behind him. Good. Leon's pace picked up, and he made a right turn across the street to the other sidewalk. The seconds counted down in his head. Three, two, one…

A sharp scream shattered the silence.

The deed was done; there was nothing more he could do.

Across the street to his left was a smaller building, red paint chipping off its walls, in comparison to the skyscrapers beside it; an alley stood next to it. The buzzing neon lights of a giant arrow flashed on its side; the words "Den's Pub" on it flickered on and off. This was it. Hopefully, the rat was in there.

Pushing the pub doors open, Leon immediately ambled over to the nearest metal pillar and leaned against it. Closing his eyes, he heard a voice laugh. On the outside, Leon stayed silent, face unchanging, but in the inside, he was screaming. The voice was still there. The same thought echoed in his mind—

That kid was a mistake. That kid was a mistake. That kid was a mistake.

—Like a broken record. And the voice kept taunting. Whispering. Laughing. Why wouldn't it stop? Why here? Why now?

"Why not?"

I didn't mean to kill him.

Panther raced after the vixen, who was gaining a lot of ground between them. Night took its full grip of the sky; street lights glowed with dim, orange hues. He panted as he ran past a cloaked, hunched bystander, seeing the vixen shove aside that figure to the ground. She could run fast considering she was in heels.

Seeing her turn at the corner, Panther picked up his speed. He ran to the right, sprinting past a thin alley. The vixen raced towards another figure, but one in green. She glanced behind her shoulder and gave a pleading look. The figure soon turned around, and stood in Panther's way, letting her pass by. Panther skidded into a stop in front of him. Green military uniform, black-furred fox… It was one of his targets. Did those two know each other?

"Hey, what do you think you're doing to her?"

"Move aside," Panther said.

The fox stared at the rose in Panther's shirt pocket before glaring at him. "You don't know who you're talking to, pansy."

"Well, someone did send me after you."

The two of them heard a clack from under them. Looking down, a small sphere had tumbled between their feet. Neither of them had any time to react. It exploded. A cloud of smoke blasted into their faces. Panther coughed as the smoke filled his lungs. Squinting, he spotted a shadow slip into the alley beside him. He gripped his blaster harder, scanning the area to find—

A roundhouse knocked Panther back. He dropped his blaster, wiping the dirt off his face. The fox rushed up, taking a few swings at him. Panther took a step back from each fist. Soon, the fox did a couple of more roundhouse kicks, forcing Panther back as he dodged. Then one misstep and Panther stumbled. The fox's foot hit his face, flinging him into the ground. He hit the concrete, groaning, dust kicked up at his face. Why was he the one on the defensive? He was Panther Caroso. He shouldn't be having this much trouble.

He stood up, wiping the sweat off his face, panting as he tried to catch his breath. The fox came back for more. Panther ducked under the fox's kicks. Under one of the high swings, he did a low-sweep kick. The fox tripped, falling forward. Panther grabbed him and kneed him in the snout a few times. Then he kicked the fox, watching as he skidded along the pavement.

The smoke started to recede, and Panther soon found his blaster near the alleyway. The fox spotted it as well. Both of them ran for the gun. The fox leapt up and grabbed Panther's legs. Panther fell and kissed the concrete with a thud. He groaned. Trying to crawl, his legs kept getting pulled back. There was no way he was going to lose to a target now. He would never forgive himself if he did. Panther jerked one leg free and kicked the fox's face. One paw grabbed the blaster in front of him.

Pointing it at the fox's head, he didn't hesitate. He pulled the trigger once, twice, three times. Three bangs. Three burn holes. No movements. Silence.

The fox was dead.

Panther's breathing started to slow and relax as he stood up. The breeze blew away all the smoke. He let out a content sigh, staring down at the corpse. Too bad Panther couldn't see where the fox's face was burned thanks to all the black fur. But he still smirked.

One down, four more to go.

He wasn't too keen on his latest job; that vixen caused a major delay. But what could he do? He couldn't resist trying when it came to interesting ones like her (or any interesting female in general). One thought still bugged him; she seemed to know that fox he'd just killed. He sighed, dusting the dust off his clothes and putting his blaster back in its holster.

Soon, a sharp cry pierced the air.

Leon kept his sights forward, eyes focused on the black fox and grey rat walking towards the street corner. He wasn't surprised to see the rat on his list, noticing how protective he appeared with his dirt-brown trench coat and high collar, but the fox was an interesting one. A vulpine soldier, judging by the looks of his green, gold-buttoned uniform; at first glance, Leon had spotted four campaign medals on the fox's person. It wasn't often Leon got a job like this; specific military men weren't normally on people's hit lists. This must've been quite the fox.

Leon followed the duo close by as they took a turn to the right, walking without making a sound.

"Hey, be sure to meet me at Den's Pub tonight," the rat said. "They got some good beer there. I'll head there after taking care of a few things, but I wanted to talk to ya about that girl you've been seeing."

"What girl?"

"You know exactly who I mean, man. The one you've paid to sleep with you. Look, Donny ain't stupid—"

"Hey, that was years ago." The fox turned towards the rat. "Why are you even bringing this up? I've made mistakes back then. She was one of them."

"No no no, not her. I mean the new one you had with you yesterday. You do realise he wasn't too happy when he heard about it, right? I heard she knew Donny before, and she managed to get away with part of his—"

"You know Donny tends to be like that. Just leave him alone for a while, and he'll snap back to his senses. He's got a kid to take care of—"

"Had a kid. Heard the little champ's with his mama now."

"That's too bad. Anyway, what he doesn't know won't hurt him. Don't worry about it. Besides, he's a forgiving guy."

"Yeah, sure he is."

Leon stroked his chin. He would be at a disadvantage if they both went to the bar. There would be many people, and even without that, it was still two against one. He wasn't surprised that his targets were acquainted with each other though; in fact, he'd be surprised if they weren't. They probably knew his client well for all he could tell. A million possibilities flooded into his mind; getting a smoke bomb and taking them out, cornering one in an alleyway, poisoning their drinks… He smiled at the thought. That would be grand. Couldn't let them off quick and torture-free, now could he? Might as well savour the moment while he could.

"Or screw it up like you always do."

Leon scowled. It always came at the worst times. He closed his eyes, trying to focus on the sounds around him.

"Face it. You always have, and always will."

You don't know anything. I'm the great Leon! There's nothing I can't do!

"Then bring the kid back to life."

Leon stopped walking. He looked down at his feet; his legs wouldn't move. After a sigh, he chuckled. "That kid was an experiment. Maybe I might do that again someday."

"Go ahead and keep telling yourself that."

He rolled his eyes; he knew what he did. He heard it all before. It was un—

"Unforgivable."

Groaning, Leon looked up, noticing that the two were far up front; the rat was almost a block ahead of him, and the fox was nowhere to be seen. Shoot. He had to catch up. Scanning the area around him, he found himself approaching an empty intersection. The fox must've taken a right, but who should he go after first? The fox or the rat?

"Told ya you'd screw up."

Shut up, you fu—

The sounds of panting and clacking approached him, and soon, he was shoved aside. Landing on the pavement with a thud, he groaned, hearing the clacks and pants fade away. Pushing himself up while groaning, Leon pulled out his blaster and aimed it at the running figure. Then his eyes widened. Copper fur, short red dress… She was that vixen from earlier. She ran to the right, Leon soon losing sight of her.

He chuckled. Ready to dash, he took a step forward, but spotted a wallet by his boots. Picking it up and flipping it open, he was greeted by a photo of a dark panther. A piloting licence, it seemed, complete with the picture and name.

Leon raised an eyebrow. "Well, well, well." The vixen must've dropped it. Seemed like this night was about to get interesting after all. He stuffed the wallet in his pocket and was ready to run after her.

But another figure ran past him first.

A panther in a dress shirt rushed forward and made a sharp turn to the right. Maybe this was his lucky night.

Leon ran after the two, making a right turn around the building. Passing a thin alley, he spotted figures up ahead; the panther had stopped in front of the fox; the vixen made a turn into a different alleyway next to them. The panther had his blaster out, the fox meeting him at eye level. This could get interesting— wait. Two against one. Leon sighed. Those odds worked against him. However, if he went after the vixen…

He dug into his left pocket, and threw a small metal sphere he took out at the duo's feet. In an instant, it blew up, and smoke covered the area. Leon slipped past them and ran into the alleyway. There she was. The vixen ran into another alley to the right. Leon followed in hot pursuit. The path was a thin straight line between two plaster walls, leaving both with nowhere else to go but forward. Leon aimed his blaster. He shot a few rounds, one neon-green laser hitting the vixen's leg. She tripped. Gripping her burnt leg, she growled as Leon approached her.

One hand held his blaster; the other dug into his pocket and pulled out a knife. Leon laughed. He made a mental note; a name was checked off his list.

"Let's have some fun, shall we?"

He never gave her a chance to scream.

A cry came from the back alleys. Panther rushed in and took a right turn into a thinner passageway. He was stopped, dead cold, in his tracks. Since when did these buildings get painted? He chuckled.

They weren't, but it was everywhere: the colour red. Red walls, red floors, red dress… Panther stepped forward into the puddle—a small splash—next to where a soaked body was laying. The vixen. A once gleaming coat of copper fur was reduced to sullen ruffles. What a shame. The vixen had such a pretty face, resting on the pavement like that. Panther checked the pooled area around her, then her paws, and afterwards, in her purse that was laying inches in front of her. Inside were a couple of wads of plastic credits, but his wallet was nowhere to be found. At least all the damages weren't done by his paw; he couldn't bear the thought of harming a female, especially into the condition the vixen's body was left in. Who could've done it, though? Well, as long as she was gone…

Two down, three more to go.

Several feet farther up ahead in the alley, a small vulpine child sat on the floor, face buried in his knees, trembling. Panther approached him with caution; the closer he got, the louder the child's sobs were.

"…M…ma…mam…"

"Hey," Panther said. "You okay?"

The kid looked straight up at him, eyes widening, and he was soon scooting away. Panther gasped. Copper fur, similar face… No. It shouldn't be that surprising, considering what that vixen was like.

"Do you know what happened to her?"

"M-ma…ma…"

He held out a hand. "Hey, what happened around—?"

Before Panther could touch him, the child yelped. Then he stood up and ran out of the alley as fast as he could. Panther stood there, watching, mouth left agape as he did. Well, that wasn't helpful. This job was turning out to be a lot harder than he'd anticipated. A quick glance down, and that was when he saw it; how could he not have noticed it before? A trail of red footprints and dots led out of the alleyway.

Ignoring the coppery smell that lingered in the air, he put his foot on one of the prints. A swipe through it, and the blood smudged. Still fresh. The killer must still be nearby.

Panther looked back at the vixen's corpse. There lay a rose with thorns. Not everything was worth chasing, it seemed. He took out the flower in his shirt pocket and placed it in the vixen's left hand. Then he left her there.

He followed the drying tracks out to the sidewalk. Scanning the area, he found where he'd shot the fox not too long ago at his right. Then he glanced back at the alley. Maybe he should've hid the bodies; someone was bound to find them by morning. A few seconds later, he shook his head and smiled. He had left his mark on both corpses. At least that meant someone new was going to know his name, whoever that may be.

Following the blood-marked path, he crossed the street and walked towards the next block, passing a trench-coated figure heading in the same direction. The glass skyscrapers continued looking down on him; he couldn't see through them, though. What was the killer's motive? It saved Panther time, but the thought still bugged him. Then he chuckled. That vixen could've messed things up for anybody she talked to. Well, used to, anyway. Eventually, he found the path leading towards the doors of an old, paint-chipping building, the neon-lighted arrow on its side spelling "Den's Pub." Panther mused on for a bit. Bloody trails would make tracks on the floors. Not a pleasant sight to see, being a pub owner or not. Who knew what this guy could be capable of?

Then he heard a couple of voices coming from the alley next to the pub. His paw stayed close to his blaster, ready to grab it at any time, as he crept towards the passageway.

But he didn't need to see it to know what was happening.

The cries and bone cracks, the grunts and cackles, the "Shut up"s and knife shlicks. He couldn't take it. Panther took out his blaster, walking into where a lizard in a dusty cloak was now in view, seeing the face of a dead rat in a fedora.

Three down, two more to go.

And one of them was sitting in front of him.

The lizard hadn't moved, clutching his head with one hand while the other kept a tight grip on his knife. Soon, Panther crept in close enough. He watched as the lizard relaxed his muscles and pull his knife out of the corpse. There was his chance. Panther pressed the barrel of his blaster onto the lizard's head. Pulling the cock, he was locked and loaded. Clack clack.

"Get up," Panther said. The lizard didn't move; the silence was deafening. He should be the one in control. He had the advantage. He had firepower. "It's best advised to not make me say it twice."

Still, he made no movements. Panther groaned. He opened his mouth, but he didn't get to say a word. Soon, the cold, bluntness of a different gun was pressed against his head. Then he heard a gruff voice.

"I suggest you drop your gun, kitty."

Panther stayed still for a while. His finger was itching to pull the trigger. However, even he knew when it was time to give up. Holding the blaster away from the lizard, it remained suspended in his grip at his side until he released it, letting it clatter onto the pavement.

"Walk to the wall and turn around."

Panther did as he was told, soon facing his suppressor. A grey wolf in a trench coat scowled at him, a black eyepatch covering his left eye.

His last target.

All five were now accounted for.

How in Lylat did he get stuck in this mess? His eyes drifted over to where the lizard sat. Only now did he notice the blood stains that drenched the hem of the lizard's cloak. It was strange, though. Why would his target go after another one of his targets?

"Leon, get up," the wolf said. "We're leaving."

The lizard obeyed in an instant. Panther stood in silence, watching; a flood of thoughts came in. The vixen and the fox, the wolf and the lizard… Each set was allied together. Panther stole a glance at the corpse. Where did the rat come in? It made no sense.

He looked back at the wolf. "Are you just—"

"Donny's dead, by the way."

Panther raised an eyebrow. "Pardon me?"

"Donny's dead. You're a lucky kitty, a smart one too for standing down. Leon could've killed you if I didn't get here. In fact, Donny hired the both us to kill you."

Panther's muscles tensed up for a moment. Then to his own surprise, he chuckled. "He hired me to kill the both of you."

The wolf raised an eyebrow, flashing an almost half-smirk, and he held his gun down. "So you're number three. That bastard also hired me and Leon to kill each other. He must be behind on the times if he didn't know about Leon and me. He didn't have any credits when I saw him earlier, the cocky prick. So what are you, merc? Assassin? Pilot? Former soldier under dept?"

Panther kept face. Silence, his company.

"You might wanna answer him, Panther Carrroso."

A rolled R. His eyes widened, attention shifting over to the lizard, Leon. Leon walked up to him, eyeing his every movement, bringing up the blade he held inches away from the panther's neck. Panther sucked in a breath.

Leon continued. "That's what it said on a pretty little piloting licence from a wallet I picked up." He smirked. "What a waste, to have someone with good flight skills killed on land." In Panther's ear, he whispered, "It's your grave, pansy—"

"That's enough, Powalski," the wolf said.

Leon scoffed, drawing his knife back into his pocket. Then he took out a small wallet, handing it to Panther before walking to stand next to the wolf.

"Hey, b-boss," Leon said, stuttering a bit. "I let a kid go today." The wolf looked at him. "Guess what he got to see."

The wolf huffed. "So the scream was 'cause of you. Doubt the kid's gonna forgive you for that."

Leon chuckled. "No one ever does."

The wolf looked back at Panther. "Someone's gonna be after you no matter what, so you're dead either way, whether it was by our hands or not."

Then the wolf turned his back at him. So that was it? Were they going to leave him here? Panther sighed, staring at the rat's corpse. Red floors, red walls, red coat… That lizard sure left a mess. If that had been him next…

"But we could use another pilot in Star Wolf," the wolf said. Panther's head shot up, and he faced the wolf.

Leon gasped, raising an eyebrow. "Him? But, boss—"

"Think about it," he continued. "But don't take long, 'cause we won't be waiting. Leon, we're leaving."

Leon stared at the wolf before glaring at Panther. Then he followed behind the wolf as he walked away, leaving Panther behind.

Star Wolf? Panther remembered hearing about them a year back. Was that an offer? Panther opened his mouth, but no words came out. What could they possibly have in store for someone like him? A trap? He shook his head. They could've already killed him on the spot if they wanted to. It wasn't like he was going to an opportunity like this anywhere.

He picked up his blaster off of the ground and ran after them, putting the gun back in his holster.

The clouded, dusking sky brightened up Leon's mood a bit.

He wore his hood, and his back stayed arched under his cloak. The clicking of shoes, the honks of the Skycars, the chatter of pedestrians: any of those could've drowned out the sound of that voice, if there were any to begin with. The area: dead silent. He could still hear it; it was faint, but the voice was there. Taunting. Whispering. Laughing. It was too bad that no one else could hear it. Guess it would have to stay as a skeleton in his closet. What a shame, indeed.

The comm in his ear buzzed. One claw held it down; the guy on the other side of the line started speaking, giving him a couple of names, descriptions, and a time frame.

"Donny, right? Look, you already told me that a few days ago. I'll get it done by tonight," he said before letting go of his comm.

Ha walked passed a dark-purple panther whose arm was flung around a copper-furred vixen. Leon's eyes followed their movements, though his head never turned. The panther was on the phone; his guard was down— no. It wasn't the right time yet.

Leon's left hand dug through the inside of his pocket. A small metal sphere was pulled out. One push of its button, and it lit up a blue hologram with the most recent shortlist of names and images. Several male, several female. Each had a price tag floating above their heads. A flick of his claw, and down the list, he searched. There they were: the panther and the vixen. Both had a couple of pricy bounties attached to them.

His eyes drifted up, noticing a black fox in a green military uniform speaking with a grey rat in a brown trench coat and a fedora. Another check of his list, and there their names were as well. Perhaps he could go after the panther and vixen later.

Still scrolling through the many names, Leon stopped at a picture of a chameleon with a small sneer, lidded eyes, and scaly skin. The corners of his mouth curled up. What were the odds? Of course that picture would show up. Then he heard a laugh; at first, he thought it was the voice's, but it turned out to be his own. After a moment's passing, he sighed in content.

Even he was far from pardoned.

Wanted: Leon Powalski

Charged For the Murder of a Minor

Tune4Toons: This was inspired by both the song "Rusty Halo" by The Script (take a listen to it if you can), and by the amazing MessengerOfDreams for being an incredibly talented guy, and for being both an awesome friend and muse. :D Do something different, then flaunt the hell out of it~

If you liked it, great! Glad to have made your day! If you're still left confused after reading this, feel free to mention it. Feedback and criticism are always appreciated.

Thanks for reading! Best of luck, and happy contesting!