The Edge Burrow was swarming with enemy meer. Delta stench hung in a menacing cloud. The Powers fought, ambushing Deltas from burrow entrances, and wrestling on the heartmound. Sand flew and dust sprinkled his pelt like rain. He hesitated on the rise, tail stiff and one forepaw raised. His whiskers bristled as his tiger eyes scanned the pond of writhing pelts. Powers melted into Deltas, the sun flooding the area with lurid light. It was difficult for him to pick out who was who in the melee. He didn't want to charge in too quickly just to find that he was attacking his own groupmate.

There! A flash of pale gold fur and dark stripes. Suri's pelt stood out against her attacker's instead of blending in. A huge male meer barred down on her and she backed into the heartmound with her fur on end. The half-grown meer formerly known as Clay launched into the fight. He skidded across the field, so intent on his destination that he shouldered aside any meer who dared to lunge at him. His claws flashed on instinct, batting aside challengers. He was almost adult size and weightier than most of the meer here due to his plentiful moon traveling with Firash. The dry season hadn't hit the jungle as hard as it had the desert. His muscles rippled under his pelt, and he bunched his legs beneath him. He pushed off the ground in one powerful motion.

He landed on the distracted meer's back, his forepaws smashing into his shoulders. The Delta cornering Suri stumbled, winded and shocked. He grabbed the Delta's scruff and yanked him onto his side. The Delta kicked and scrabbed at his stomach, but he braced his paws against the bigger meer. He darted in to snatch the Delta's throat and the battle muted. The Delta's eyes widened with fear, his jaws going slack, and his tail thrashing. Through the dust the young meer saw his face contort with terror.

He changed direction at the last moment and his fangs sunk into the Delta's shoulder. The Delta screamed in anguish, renewing his swiftly weakening struggles. His claws opened shallow, fresh wounds along the young meer's side, but he held on, shaking his head just as he had with the blister beetle. His own blood trickled, merging with the blood of the hare that the leopard had slathered him with, so that he looked like a warrior bathed in the blood of his enemies.

He let the Delta go and he wasted no time scrambling to his paws, panting, and staggering on his three good legs. He swung about to face the young meer. His whole body went rigid, his face frozen in a snarl, and his dark eyes glistened with horror. Around them, the battle had quieted. Almost all the meer had paused, Delta and Power alike, to stare at the gruesome sight.

The young meer's pelt shone a deep, garnet red in the peeking sun. His tail was arched and head high. Dried and fresh blood mattered fur. The hair along his ruff bristled in crimson spikes and his mouth was dyed with the red of the Delta's blood. His scrapes and bruises were so small they were invisible, so that he looked woundless. His tiger eyes glowed, in the mounting heat seeming to match the bright scarlet of his once white teeth. He looked like a terrific monster risen from the depths of the Catacombs reveling in the carnage of their suffering.

He expected to feel fear, for his pelt to prickle under the many gazes. But his heart thrummed with a foreign yet welcome feeling. Belonging.

In the slow-motion atmosphere, he turned to meet Suri's amber gaze. Her eyes were round, and she crouched. At first, he thought she was scared too, that underneath the gore she hadn't been able to recognize him. But her expression was astounded, her gaze round with adoration. He picked out Haywood at the edge of the battle, pinned by a rival female meer. His friend watched him with relief and amazement while the Delta looked stricken, her fur fluffed. Click, who had been swiping at two Deltas who were ganging up on her, halted her attack. She must've seen him rip the Delta male off Suri. Her expression was fearful as if she were afraid for him while her eyes shone with pride. Even Quiet was up and participating in the battle, the newly healed claw marks on his chest a stark fleshy pink. His former bully gaped at the young blood-washed meer. Ripper and Marsh too had halted their own fights to stare in fascination. The Powers weren't afraid.

The Deltas were. All of them bared their teeth in terror.

He faced the Delta he'd pulled off Suri, blood spewing down his leg from the punctures in his shoulder. He tried to straighten but his tail was quivering and throat bobbing. Pain and fright warred in his gaze. "What are you?" He managed to choke out.

"I am Terror." The young meer stated as he took a step forward and knew that it was true. He was Terror. He had found his name. He had been searching for belonging, for a purpose within The Powers, for a way to put his humiliation to rest, and prove that he could prove his worth as a leader. This was it. If he had to be terrifying to protect his family, then so be it. If the other meer families of the desert had to belive he was a bloodthirsty monster, let them. If this act would keep them from hurting his family and taking Powers land, then he didn't regret it. That was who he'd become. That was who he was. He knew he wasn't a monster and so did his family.

Firash was right, knowledge and knowing when to share it was power.

Terror didn't get a chance to take another step. The Delta turned tail and fled. Others broke off their individual fights to follow, alarm barks splitting the air. "Retreat! Retreat!" They ran, a few of the victorious Powers in pursuit. The young meer was left standing in the middle of the former battlefield with a new name gracing his lips. Satisfaction and happiness filled him from nose to tail. He repeated what he had said to the Delta as cheers drenched the Edge Burrow.

"I am Terror."