Thunk

War Wolf’s shuriken sunk into the target at the other end of the safehouse, joining ten other precision-thrown brethren. A second target stood beside hers, quilled with eleven throwing daggers that mirrored her configuration almost exactly.

“Ugh, come on,” Vesara huffed from where she stood beside the wolfess heroine. “Competing against you really kills a girl’s ego, y’know.”

“You’re not too bad yourself,” War Wolf replied, palming another shuriken from her belt.

“You bet your ass I’m not when the stakes are this high.”

Safely off to the side, Spectra finished scribbling “Round 12” on a piece of posterboard and held it up, an amused smile on her muzzle. She was having enough fun watching the two heroines compete and given what they were competing to do – or rather not to do – it was a tense match. Earlier that evening, they’d discovered that Colmaton’s lowest, sleaziest, slimiest, sorriest excuse for a “reporter” Tom Matthews inadvertently caught some crucial evidence on his camera while he was snapping another filthy, risqué picture of an unaware heroine for his tabloid show.

Someone had to go get it from him.

Someone had to voluntarily meet with him.

War Wolf and Vesara were both determined not to be that someone and had decided on a throwing contest to see who’d have to do it. Bullseyes were too easy, so they quickly moved to a dartboard format, aiming for inner and outer rings and segments. They were both up to each other’s challenge.

Two rounds later and neither had been the first to blink.

“Okay,” an exasperated Vesara said, brandishing another dagger. “How about this? Spectra throws a steelight ball or something up in the air downrange and whoever tags it first wins.”

War Wolf nodded.

Spectra tossed her round card to the ground and rubbed her hands together, taking up a baseball pitcher’s stance. “All right, here we go, one Spectraball coming up. Deadly metal objects at the ready, ladies.”

After an exaggerated windup, Spectra lobbed a glowing purple sphere toward the targets. The two competing heroines flung their weapons in unison and watched as they collided in mid-air right before striking the ball, knocking each other off-target. The steelight ball thudded to the ground and evaporated. The three women could only blink.

“So…” Vesara finally said. “Just send Spectra to get the picture then?”

“Sounds good to me.” War Wolf raised her brow toward her lioness partner. “Don’t take too long. And watch out for hidden cameras.”

Spectra’s jaw hung open as the other two left the room. “Wait…what?! What the hell just happened? Hey!”

-

War Wolf and Spectra belong to me.
Vesara belongs to  GameGod210
Tom Matthews belongs to  MojoRover
Art belongs to  bluwolf0