Dawn of a New Age

This is the first in the series and has nothing to do with it, but the ultimate inspiration for this is Cmacleod's Slavemaker 3. Specifically an ending for Riesz. I've been in a bad space recently, and it resulted in this being written in an effort to decompress. It's the darkest one I've written in a while, and the only ones that compare are, to my chagrin, long gone.

My paw flew to the back of my neck at a sudden pinch. The finely crafted dart I retrieved dripped a bit of blood, a slight burning beginning to spread from the point of contact. I stared death at my would-be opponent, the very large wolf anthro leering at me in what looked like triumph. I had been drugged, maybe poisoned, by one of his lackeys. My contempt for him and his filth only grew. I hurled the dart at him, only to have it strike the metal of his armor. Whoever had shot it at me had excellent aim to hit me just above the collar of my own armor. I was surrounded, the other females and kits at the mercy of these monsters playing as soldiers if I retreated. Spitting at the ground, I hefted my mace and charged. “Gutless coward!”

It was clear why he was the one in charge. A cut above the rest of them in ability and power. I had taken several of his men through surprise, but several others had been bested with skill. This beast before me was not drunk on his own freakish might, staying cool even when my exhaustion and whatever they'd hit me with slowly drained my strength when I needed it most. My swings slowed despite my desperate situation. My ears rang louder and louder with every breath. Armor I normally barely noticed weighed me down. I had to kill him. I had to give my brethren a reason to resist, even if it killed me. A reason to keep going until the males returned from war and killed the lot of these bastards.

The impossibility of this dawned on me hard when he sidestepped my strike, the head of my mace slamming into the ground. I struggled to lift it. Pulled with all my might to raise it once more so that I might smash his brains out like I had three of his minions. But it just wouldn't happen. I could barely stand now, my armor feeling like it was crushing me. I could manage naught but gasps from the weight, holding onto the handle of my mace in a desperate bid to stay standing. I would not willingly kneel before this mongrel. Only when he kicked my weapon out from under me did I crash to the thankfully grass-covered ground, finally able to breathe now that the metal wasn't weighting on me so hard. I took several deep breaths, straining to move my arms and lift myself back up before his foot crushed even this faint hope. I could feel the armor buckling under his mass, my life flashing before my eyes as I prayed it would be quick...

The pressure lessened but did not cease. I was not to be crushed to death, it seemed. The wolf above me laughed that same deep, mocking one he'd done when I challenged him. “When the options you and your