sahara

[Deleted]

Characters: @toolbox, @predaking
Location: The Sahara
Content Warnings: N/A
Plot Summary: Predaking comes across a rather curious little creature.

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All he knew was that he had to run. Run far, run fast, get away. This was something familiar, though the turbofox didn’t understand why, only that it was. He’d run away before, through forest and hill and greenery, but that was a murky and distant memory that had been purposefully locked away. He remembered having not-paws. He remembered a lot of things which felt right opposed to the wrongness he felt now, but could not think too deeply upon it.

Paws skittered over the baking sand, leaving a clear trail in his wake. If the creature could pant, he surely would, but as it were, mechanical beasts could do no more than cycle their coolant and hope the heat input was not greater than the cool output. The turbofox kept running, even when his systems indicated critical overheating. Run. Run runrunrunrun.

Finally, when his systems were taxed to their limits by the heat and the poor turbofox collapsed, drifting hazily down the side of a sand dune. Overhead, vultures began to circle.

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Vultures? They were nothing to him. Organic spots that would simply be eviscerated when he made his way close. Toolbox was of interest to him. The Predaking hunted him, sought him out because the familiarity of times well passed.

He was a tiny Turbofox, and Predaking was the greatest predator of them all. He was a beast of no comparison, and anything that dared to flee him would be caught. However, Predaking wasn't hungry; he was looking for entertainment. Thus, he pursued rather than snapping the small bot up in his jaws.

When the pathetic thing overheated, the king made his way forth. He rapidly descended, his large frame certain not to step directly onto the small creature. A thought passed that he may be dead, but it seemed his systems were operational. A nudge with his snout should suffice to wake the thing.

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He only knew to run. What he was running from, however, was not the predator that lazily soared above him, and as such the fox was completely oblivious to this rather dangerous presence. No, he ran from that which had done this to him, that hurt him and abused him and made him forget.

That nudge of the king’s snout was indeed enough to wake the poor turbofox but came with enough momentum that the creature ended up flipping completely. The creature weakly yipped in alarm and stumbled to his paws.

There were errors popping up on the little beast’s HUD warning of imminent heat damage. His overtaxed cooling systems whined in exertion. He could not run anymore, and there was nowhere he could hide in the vast unforgiving desert. With no other choice, the turbofox huddled to the ground, tail tucked between his legs, head low and ears back in submission to the imposing beat that loomed above him.