Archive of Our Own

Sylus — Caracal
How did he get to live with you?

During the winter season, Captain Jenna assigned your division the mission of traveling to the periphery of the savanna, a crucial task for a recruit like you since it had the dual function of personal training and training for the hunters in the area, who had limited personnel and experience compared to the grand cities.

The camp, to everyone's luck, was well-equipped and the missions were not as exhausting; plus, the weather was pleasant enough to work in. However, one night, the onslaught of the Wanderers was greater, and the communities nearby, in their attempt to defend themselves, caused a fire that spread rapidly, exacerbating the crisis.

The next morning, once the flames had been controlled and the locals were taken care of, you began patrolling the area with your colleagues to ensure there was no one else injured, continuing through much of the burned terrain. That was the moment when you found him.

He was just a cub, weak and on the verge of starvation. Even so, he showed resistance by hissing and pulling out his sharp claws when he considered you a threat. If it had not been for his critical condition you would have left him alone, simply taking him to a safer zone deep in the Savannah. Still, the obvious wound in his right eye prevented you from ignoring him.

With a few scratches and bites (which, yes, they hurt) you managed to take him to the nearest animal protection center. Some questions were asked while they started the examination of the rebellious cub who wouldn't let anyone come close that easily. Information about the place you found him and if it existed any signal of its mother nearby was significant. The wildlife veterinarian concluded that it could be the case of an orphan, the hints being the location he was rescued from, which happened to be near the hunter's campsite, areas that caracals avoided due to the abundance of people around.

Thinking about it, the past few days you had been suspicious of some strange sounds as you trained or passed the time with your friends. Some unexpected rustling or scratching. And that time when a piece of meat disappeared from your plate… Could this little guy be the culprit? The idea made you chuckle, and you got a little closer with the permission of the vets, perhaps he was a little more familiar with your voice.

"Little man, we're just trying to help you. Everything will be fine, come on", you coaxed him out of his hiding spot behind the cabinets. It took you a whole ten minutes to catch him in your hands, wrapping a warm towel around him with a gentle tone and slow movements. He squirmed, hissed, and tried to bite again, but there was no opportunity now, he was in the hands of professionals again.

Maybe that was how your bond started.

After being admitted to the clinic, his condition gradually improved. Your visits were nothing new to the staff, because something inside you felt peace at seeing him in better shape each day, watching him sleep peacefully, and eat voraciously. The poor guy had surely spent a good while starving. Little by little, between frequent visits and growing confidence, the little one warmed up enough to play with you. He would run in the gardens and jump to catch the dangling cat wand that you used to carry around.

On a certain evening, during one of your visits, the head veterinarian approached you with a warm smile, his clipboard tucked under one arm and a practiced casualness in his step. "I was checking on his analysis from this morning, he looks a lot better than when you first brought him in, don't you think?," he said, leaning against the tree that protected you from the sun as you watched Sylus run around. "Is that so? He looks bigger now too, and it's been only a few weeks."

"Caracals grow quickly. And with a gentle person taking care of them, even more," he said, taking a step closer. You only smiled, looking back at Sylus who was flicking his ears. "I was thinking… You mentioned it was your day off, right? Maybe we- Ack!" The guy yelped in surprise as a blur of tawny fur shot from the shadows. He wasn't using his claws, but was firmly gripping his ankle, his good eye narrowing as his little tail flickered.

You laughed, managing to take him in your arms with care. "Sylus! You can't just do that, you scared him."

"Sylus?"

"Ah. The locals mentioned something the other day. I couldn't catch the pronunciation right, though. But it meant something about greatness and… I thought it fitted him." The feline in your arms chirped and you returned to the main point of the conversation. "Excuse me, you were telling me something earlier?"

He cleared his throat, fixing his appearance a bit. "Ah yes. I… I was going to suggest transferring him to Linkon. They’ve got better equipment at the Wildlife Linkon Reserve, and I know the team there. They probably won't take him in immediately but… he's still young, you could take him with you, right?"

…Why did you always end up in these situations?

Kitty traits

Four-legged threat. You became accustomed to the sound of things breaking and falling after adopting Rafayel. It wasn't always intentional, he just tended to be messy. But Sylus… he deliberately locked eyes with you, he CRAVED for you to witness his crimes, to watch how his paw slowly pushed over the edge of the counter your coffee mug, the way his sharp claws threatened to scratch and tear apart the bathroom mat (again) and how his teeth was just a breath away from munching on your chicken thigh. He didn't just love chaos, he was the chaos.

Hyperactivity is afraid of him. He jumps, and remember, caracals can jump over three meters (10 feet) with no impulse. So, leaving the balcony open was completely ruled out; the passing birds deserved a longer life far away from Sylus' claws (yes, it had happened before, and the bird had survived… barely). He likes to run, and caracals are also unbelievably fast, so he does these marathons from the kitchen to your bed, to your bed to the sofa and then you have to see the table he knocked over and the covers of your bed on the floor. You feel like taking him to the wild and making him run a whole day wouldn't be enough to tire him out.

He's BIG. You thought Zayne was big, I mean, Maine Coons are large cats… but now you can't help but feel that Zayne looks tiny by his side. He takes almost half of the couch, your bed, your whole damn desk when he climbs on it, the cages you use for the rest are comically small for him, and carrying him is a chore that tortures your back health. If Zayne could talk he would complain with you about how he's a victim of his fat ass 💔 (Sylus has picked out the habit of crushing cuddling Zayne with his enormous body. Zayne barely stands him, Sylus probably thinks he's hilarious). He takes the best spots on the bed, by the way, and Xavier is not having it.

Chonk. The change of being in the wild and living in a small apartment with another 3 cats led him to move less. And his diet couldn't change, so, over time, he became a bit chonky. You couldn't deny he looked adorable with a little pooch belly (which he sometimes allowed you to scratch and pet), but you also knew that wasn't healthy. Taking him for walks outside was nearly impossible, that'd be irresponsible and people could get scared, but you had the solution: a new exercise wheel! It was huge, and he ran so fast you were almost scared he'd accidentally centrifuge himself… Don't worry, he was back in shape in no time.

Food thief alert. Rafayel and he are very much alike in this topic with one difference: Rafayel steals your food and Sylus steals his. No, he shouldn't be eating regular cat food, yes he eats it just to be petty, and yeah, he acts smug about it. Probably just messes with Rafayel 'cause his reactions are madly funny, but something inside him tells him he should avoid Xavier's plate…

Scary dog cat privileges. No one will ever break into your apartment, trust me. And if you're dealing with some creepy neighbor at the door, he will calmly walk over and sit beside your standing form, yawn, and not even hiss. Seeing those fangs as he yawned was enough to get you out of your uncomfortable situation, isn't he such a good boy? If you're too scared to take out the trash at night he'll also accompany you to make you feel safe. He has never attacked anyone, but wouldn't hesitate to do it if you were in danger.

Actual cutie :( Deep down Sylus is just a really silly and sappy guy !! Please don't get intimidated by his looks, he'll literally cuddle with you on the sofa, letting you pet him for hours if you wish and he PURRS. LIKE. AN ENGINE. He likes to rub himself against you so you smell like him and he smells like you, likes kisses, nose boops, chin scratches, and if you're lucky you can touch his ears. If he doesn't let you, it ain't personal: caracals have sensitive ears (a lot of muscles there!), so too much touch can overwhelm him. You can always admire his little ear flicks when he's focused either way!

His favorite place to make biscuits is your belly. The softest dough he'll ever knead, and if you have a bigger belly? Please, you'll make him feel like he won the lottery. He rarely shows this kind of affection and, even if it hurts a little because of his natural strength, you're not interfering in the process. He'll purr as he kneads and lick your hand if you reach out to pet him.

Another mighty thunderclap tore through the skies, momentarily deafening the sound of the drops hitting the terrace floor and the shaky windows. It was the third day of this great storm, this one being so strong that going to work was out of the question, so you stayed home. Having four cats was not exactly synonymous with boredom, though. Xavier missed bathing in the sun, Rafayel wanted to play in the rain, and Zayne... well, he actually just wanted to nap.

The most restless of them all seemed to be Sylus, pacing around the apartment with an annoyed look, as if tired of waiting for something thrilling to happen. The first thunder he heard got him excited, making him perk his ears in alert, and jump onto the window seat with wide eyes. He tapped the window when the first drops of water hit the crystal, reminding you of the times you did “drop races” as a child, anxious to see if your selected drop of rain would reach its “goal” before your friend’s one did. 

But now, after three days of non-stop raining, it no longer caught his attention. Until now, apparently. A gentle growl and a nudge on your shoulder made you turn to look at him. “You want to get in?” You asked, lifting the blanket you had been using to cover yourself as you sat on the floor in front of the balcony doors, admiring the storm. “Come on, let’s see the rain together.”

With a warm smile, you welcomed him to cuddle with you, him taking a seat by your side and closing his eyes as you scratched the space between his ears. The comfortable silence of your home, combined with the chilly weather, brought you closer to him. You welcomed the storm with quiet gratitude. And, with all your being, you hoped it would last just a few more days.

It was the only way to postpone it, at least for a little while.

ᯓ★ A few days before

You were at work, mindlessly sipping coffee as you reviewed some documents on your laptop for your next mission, when the notification sound of an email brought your attention back. But after clicking on it, your hands didn’t move, you didn’t even blink, and the room suddenly felt too cold.

Just after reading the body, you closed the tab and let the email bury under the endless pile of new ones. You knew this would happen someday. But you’d think about it later, after work, maybe, or tomorrow. Just… not today. 

You returned home late, dragging your feet, but not exactly in exhaustion, at least not a physical one. You followed your nightly routine, spending some time with your precious kitties before going to bed, and you found him there, curled up over the soft covers with his usually sharp features completely relaxed. Trying not to wake him up, you got closer and booped his nose, giggling at his little ear flicks and his paws moving, as if trying to find you. “Sleep well,” you mumbled and lay down beside him, your hand caressing the smooth fur of his back. 

You weren’t ready to say goodbye.

[...]

“Now… go!”

The next day, you stayed home. Full of energy and with a ton of free time, you built an obstacle course for Sylus. This was a common exercise for him as part of his treatment and training for his injured vision. It helped him build a stronger spatial awareness, kept him active, and improved his visual coordination. “Good! Good, great!” You cheered with enthusiasm as he finished the entire course without bumping into anything, eating with delight the treat that awaited him at the end of it. “You’ve gotten so much better, Sy. You looked awesome—”

But your enthusiasm vanished with the memory of that email you tried so hard to ignore. Maybe, deep down, you wanted to prove that Sylus still needed some time, for his own safety! He could still use a week or two, or maybe three, or… or you could simply accept that you knew from the start this was bound to happen, and sooner or later he’d need to return to his natural habitat, and you shouldn’t have bound with him as you did.

A grumble got you out of your thoughts.

“Oh my god. Yes, yes. I’ll give you another treat.” You looked down at him, rolling your eyes at how he pulled the fabric of your pants. “Jeez, you’re so greedy.”

You still had some more days, yet parting as soon as possible might be the best thing for everyone. After thinking about it too much, tossing and turning as if feigning dementia gave you hives, you decided to start packing. His medical reports, leftover medication, his documentation, and some things that, once returned to the wild, he would never use again, such as the toys he pretended not to want so much, but ended up using perhaps to amuse you. You weren’t sure if he was aware of what would happen soon, yet he seemed just as restless, flicking his tail constantly and looking through the windows almost in annoyance.

The day you decided you’d take him to the center was when the storm started. The perfect excuse. But as mentioned before, it wouldn’t last forever.

Your eyes then opened as something heavy lay on top of your back, pressing you against the mattress more than you’d like. “Ugh…” You squirm, only to see a big paw right on your cheek and a warm, steady breath tickling your neck. “Sylus…” You complain, trying to move him, but it only seemed to make him cling more to you. 

“Caracals are solitary creatures”, they said. “They prefer to be alone and aren’t as loving as other felines”, they lied to your face. Sylus was the dictionary description of clingy and needy. He picked up this habit when he was a cub. And I repeat, he was a cub; he barely weighed more than two kilos after growing up. But now? He was easily ten times that weight. However, this time, you allowed him to stay like that. The alarm would go off in an hour, you could endure it.

But what you could not endure was what happened in the next few hours; you never imagined it, but the image of Sylus, the once-wounded little caracal you rescued and cared for for months, fussing and hissing inside a cage while the vets took him away, broke your heart. 

“It’s for the best, he will re-adapt to his habitat, please do not worry,” someone said to you, but you didn’t see who. You just stared at the vast valley that would serve as Sylus’s temporary home until they reintegrated him into the savanna. The lump in your throat signaled it was time to go home; you didn’t want to cry in front of everyone. So you went back the way you came, took a couple of steps, and suddenly heard the rattling of the metal grating that divided the protected area from the outside. Curious, you turned around one last time, and what a surprise when you saw that tawny fur jump over it, high as never before, getting out of the valley.

“Sylu– Ah!” He landed on top of you, making you fall hard, and you thanked the floor, which was all slippery mud, for preventing you from getting a contusion. The caracal licked your face after pouncing on you, like a little treat for letting him catch you, and suddenly, the tears slid down your cheeks. You hugged him tightly, giving kisses to the top of his head, earning a little grumble from him that made you laugh. 

Perhaps your bond had grown too deep for a clean goodbye, and parting was a language either of you had ever spoken.