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----The Olympic Games; no greater way to prove oneself in the mastery of athleticism, flexibility, and determination. Indeed, even now, as the snow husky sat in nothing but a blue leotard upon a bench awaiting her turn at the balance beams, an air of tension and competition could be felt. This husky, Jaina, though indeed a natural beauty, gave off to nobody any good sense of sportsmanship.

Jaina brought her leg into a calf stretch, scoffing mentally at the current competitor all the while. Sure enough, the current athlete was a rabbit. She cared not for what she looked like or what she was doing--rather, all Jaina noticed was that the race best suited to the balance beams was currently dominating the event. Rabbits had the stronger legs and the natural swiftness with which to pull off several impressive stunts, most of said stunts she preferred to call stupidly impossible. So it was that many events were actually race-specific; normally, the balance beams were cat-and-rabbit-only. Whether out of a misbegotten sense of dignity or a respectable revolutionary attitude, people could not tell--but regardless, Jaina planned on breaking the mold, and so signed up knowing the competition.

It was to be expected, of course, that Jaina would likely be outdone. But she had decided a long time ago that she wouldn't. Ever since inspiration had struck like a wayward bolt of lightning courtesy of the last games four year prior, she had been training and preparing nonstop to become nothing short of a gold medalist this year.

And hey, she didn't have to go it alone.

Jaina pulled out of her stretch and sat lazily upon the bench behind her, straightening her legs and crossing them by the ankle. She reached for a small knapsack underneath her seat. Inside she had carried a few items that she had used for her training and that she would be allowed to use here, among them athletic tape, which she had already applied to her heels in the event her padded soles wouldn't be enough to prevent an accident.

She dug around nonchalantly until her hand met something that felt squishier than cloth or plastic. From the bag came flowing the river of white that was her arm, ending in a paw wrapped around a brown micro cat wearing only the plainest and most mundane of clothing. No bigger than her thumb, his expression was that of one who had been through the same ordeals time and time again--that of an attempt to hide displeasure.

Jaina shifted her grip to pinch the thing by its shoulders almost as though it might rear up and bite her if she didn't hold it the proper way; yet, she and the micro both were aware that the latter hadn't fought her before and knew much, much better than to do so. The husky set the thing down before her paws and gave an expecting stare with soft, sapphire eyes. The micro knew of what he was being demanded, but still he hesitated. At this, Jaina breathed in and out once and brushed aside a lock of her wavy, thick hair.

"Come on, Ren." Jaina grew slightly impatient. It's not like she was the only one to bring a micro to massage her paws in preparation for the events--no, not at all. She just had to get the least competent one, of course. They had been together doing the same thing for over three years; why, thought Jaina, did he not understand that today was no different?

"My apologies, ma'am," he finally said quietly. He took steps forward, each growing a little in confidence, and finally brought his hands to her soles. She sighed, leaning her head back. His touch, though tiny, was surprisingly firm and brought her some kind of solace. She let escape a contented hum from her closed lips, recalling that even though Ren generally took some time to--heck, she didn't know...convince himself to do it or something?--he hadn't disappointed her otherwise.

Of course, she didn't have him do it out of anything less than another factor for her success. Nobody else did, save perhaps those who'd prefer to even befriend their micro; people that Jaina felt she might never understand, though people she'd tolerate just fine. Regardless of what others did with their micros, Jaina wanted every last edge to help her win, and Ren would provide one by helping her paws be as flexible and loose as possible.

"Get the pressure point...a bit," Jaina said in a drone. Ren nodded unseen to her and continued as a shade of her command, nothing more.

"Er..." The micro took a look backwards to the current spectacle, then back. "You're up soon, ma'am."

Jaina did not respond. She knew that already. She was ready enough. He'd been down there for at least three minutes; that was more than suitable. She'd thank him...if the whole ordeal wasn't routine. A few moments passed before she stood up, nearly crushing the micro she'd blatantly disregarded in the process, and started to walk slowly in wait for her name to be called.

A voice boomed from all around as it had been, but now Jaina decided to listen to what the announcer had to say. "Aaaand a great landing from Emily Lessa, a total score of 9." She stopped again, instantly disregarding the mental realization that the scores had been simplified to 0-10 since the last time she was here. She didn't care until her own name was called. But it would be soon; the brown-furred rabbit walked from the center of the arena looking quite satisfied, much to Jaina's own envy. For a moment, she could swear their gazes met from across the stadium.

"Jaina Weshing's up next, looking completely ready to tackle the beam." The voice was slightly scratchy, surely belonging to a fox, but not in such a degree that made it hard to listen to. Jaina nearly started at her own name projected from every direction, but marched forth proudly. "She knows she has some stiff competition though; this event is mostly for rabbits and cats, but Jaina has decided she will try to topple that restriction. She walks to the beam." The announcer put stress on odd words as though struggling to keep attention to his strangely-paced sentences. Jaina quickly grew irritated having her every movement narrated to millions of people, but shook it off. It wasn't going to stop soon. She took a deep breath....----

----Ren stood from underneath the bench, listening to the announcer. Three long years of nothing but what he may well have called slavery would finally culminate today, hopefully with Jaina getting what she so dearly wanted. His attention was focused solely on his captor.

"Emily alone is an...obstacle to Jaina here. She's gotten some of the highest scores in the women's sports overall for the past decade or so, let alone the balance beam and the uneven bars, both of which Jaina is also attempting, uh, today. She won't let that fact scare her off, though." Jaina mounted the bar and stood, for once exhibiting an air Ren might refer to as cordial.

Though interest was at an absolute peak, Ren was interrupted. A shadow overtook him all of a sudden. Ren was not shocked, but who would the macro be other than Jaina? He craned his back, then deciding it was a better idea to turn around.

Brown paws, thick and powerful, led up to a very leggy feminine figure that bent forward to inspect him, forepaws on knees. Above him loomed the cheery visage of a brown rabbit, no doubt the previous contender. Ren didn't know it, but Jaina and Emily had shared space here, and it was inevitable that she'd discover him. Lop ears dangled from a forest of straight dark hair tied up in a ponytail, flanking him at either side at about ten feet apart.

"You're Jaina's micro?" she thought quizzically aloud, quite clearly already knowing the answer. Yet, in the face of pointlessness, Ren nodded. "Pretty meek... why would she choose you?" Ren's fur stiffened at the insult, but he knew she hadn't meant it as such given her curious tone. In fact, she might've treated him as a mindless creature through that. He just shrugged as an answer.

"Where's yours?" he inquired. He prayed that Emily didn't take it as a challenge. Emily freed one paw from its knee perch and grasped the cat with it, softly but firmly. She now stood straight and held him aloft before her gentle visage.

"At home resting." Her tone was softer now, and for whatever reason she did not hesitate to answer his seemingly inane question. "I can't overwork the guy, can I? He did what he could." It almost seemed that her speaking was directed at herself and not at Ren in spite of the fact that she was intensely pouring over him with her featureless ebony eyes.

The crowd suddenly hushed in tension, jerking Ren's attention back to Jaina. She was on the verge of the beam, either looking to do some daring feat he'd never heard of--not that he knew of many--or, more likely, she was about to fall. Ren leaned forward from the prison of Emily's fingers intensely, knowing that her fall would mean just as much his own.

"Uh oh...looks like Jaina might be in a bit of trouble here," the announcer shouted over the silence.

Jaina stumbled once and turned it into a jump from the beam...

...And rebounded from the ground the second her paws touched it, doing an impressive backflip and landing directly back onto the beam. The crowd burst into applause and cheers.

"Wow! Jaina just denied the ground and has not taken penalty! I've never seen anything like it!" The announcer's scratchiness seemed to just disappear out of sheer awe. Ren's face turned into a beam, albeit one containing hints of bitterness.

"She is good." Emily had partially forgotten the micro in her hands, though she did not loosen her hold. "But," she began, now looking directly at Ren, "I don't think that makes up for the fact that she isn't a rabbit." She seemed to try to avoid any hints of xenophobia in the last by making it sound genuinely concerned. Ren understood her intent.

The minutes went on. Ren's focus on Jaina's abilities was mostly out of concern for his own safety...or potential lack thereof. If Jaina did poorly, or rather anything that garnered less than a 9.5 score, she'd predictably take it out on him. It would be his fault that he didn't "prepare her paws properly" or another of the hundreds of B.S. cards she'd flung his way. If she started taking fault for her own shortcomings, he thought for the umpteenth time, she could easily beat the rest of the rabble. He didn't dare say that to her, though.

There was no getting past her potential, of course.

The spectacle drew to a close. "Jaina makes the landing, nothing too flashy this time. She wants to save some of that good stuff for the other events, very nice job already." Ren began to dread. Her score was next. Emily didn't seem nearly as concerned, but she also was unaware of the stakes at play.

"A very respectable 9. We've seen only a bit of what Weshing is capable of." Jaina hopped from the pad and started calmly back to Ren and Emily, not seeing the former in the hand of the latter. Emily started a bit, seeming to realize that it would be best to put him down, and so gently released the cat back where she discovered him near the bench.

It was not long before the face of Jaina become discernible. Ren saw a steely glint in those sapphire eyes and swallowed. In just seconds she was practically atop him. But a moment and glare later, she literally was.

"Damn it, Ren. We've been through this for years, you know? And of all the times to screw up...today?" The soft paw pressed harder, shortly becoming too much to bear. Ren knew his fate. "I worked so damn hard, had you do one stupid thing!" Her thoughts were beginning to mingle, words becoming less complete of sentences.

Ren felt his breath begin to fade away; his ribs screamed out for release. That his demise would be due to a husky who couldn't take blame for anything was what agonized him the most. Perhaps after his time, she'd learn, and she'd regret.

"Weshing may not have been able to beat out Lessa, but that's a good tie, especially impressive as a husky. Maybe not the beam this year, but maybe next time. And still, we have yet to see what she's capable of next." The announcer might as well have known what was happening to Ren for his timing could not have been any better for him, thanks to the thoughts that now spurred within Jaina.

Indeed, Jaina knew how right the words were. She didn't flat out win, but she did well. If she continued practicing, she might even be able to take the gold for real. She looked back down to the micro struggling beneath her, sighed once, and promptly removed her paw. His act of slumping back up and breathing heavily was only vaguely noted by her, but she did realize a few things: one of which, his importance to her own success. Perhaps she should be...a little easier on him. Only a little, though.

"Change of plans. We've still got games to win." She picked up the limp figure--gently and carefully this time--sat down on the bench again, and put him at her side. Seemingly having decided he deserved a bit of consolation, she stroked him gently a few times with a single finger.

Ren was confused, but relieved. He'd live another day; perhaps things would change, perhaps they would not. But such was the life of a micro, and he accepted it.----