This one ended up being more about a journey and a character than about the eponymous Sirens. It's on the short side but still was fun to write and was a little practice to get ideas for some stories featuring a major character I came up with. I hope you all find it enjoyable enough, even though it will leave some questions unanswered and probably leave you wondering. We'll have to see if there are any continuations.

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His calf muscles ached from the several days he’d spent wandering through the mountains. He could hear the song slowly getting louder and louder. It wasn’t much farther. He didn’t know what or who was making this sound but it drew him. However, it was more curiosity than an actual trance. Had he not been in his right mind, Derek would have left behind his weapons. The cold air made his lungs burn a bit as he breathed deeply from his long trek but his leather jacket that was zipped up to his throat helped keep the rest of his body warm, as did his brown leather pants.


Carefully wrapped in a sort of cloth and attached to a sling on his back, he carried a large, double-barreled 8-gauge shotgun. At his left side, in a holster on his belt was a single-action .44 magnum revolver. It was uncovered, as were the cartridges on his belt. He had several brass cartridges for the shotgun underneath his jacket. Aside from that, all the coyote carried was a satchel with basic necessities like food and a canteen.


When Derek slept, he could hear the soft, sweet melody invading his dreams. As he dreamed, he saw a cave somewhere in the mountain range he was currently in. His heart pounded heavily with anticipation as he ventured into this cave. The beautiful voice echoed within, pleading with him to venture deeper. Always, without fail, he woke just when he was about to find out what was calling him.


He woke up with a startle, grabbing his revolver. The hammer was thumbed back quickly and he point the muzzle of it in the direction he smelled something. There, standing completely still and afraid was a young boy, a bobcat. His hazel eyes moved over the cub, searching for weapons. As he found he had none, he stood up.


“What do you want?” Derek asked.


The cub shook his head “Don’t shoot me!”


“This one won’t shoot unless you give him reason to,” he replied.


After the bobcat relaxed a bit, Derek held the hammer of his revolver with his thumb then squeezed the trigger carefully to decock it.


“This one is going somewhere. Don’t know where but it might be dangerous. Best you not tag along,” he said as he holstered his sidearm.


The bobcat followed him as he started walking again. Derek stopped and glared at the cub.


“This one is not a good traveling companion. There is a city beyond these mountains where it will be much safer for you. Run along now.”


“Why do you talk so funny?” the bobcat asked, referring his verbal tic.


He didn’t answer. He packed up his belongings and got back on his way, with the bobcat following. Rather than getting aggressive quickly, Derek waited and gave the bobcat time to venture off on his own. His footsteps were never far behind but the soft, sweet song almost drowned them out. It had gotten much louder and he knew he was very close.
Soon, he stopped walking and turned to the bobcat.


“This is where you go your own way. If you got that way,” he pointed to his left, “You will eventually find the town. If you continue following this one, you will die.”


The bobcat’s ears folded back a little. He watched the coyote a moment then took a couple of steps forward.


Quicker than the bobcat’s eyes could take in, the coyote drew his revolver, cocked back the hammer and pointed right at his chest.


“Go the other way or you will die by this one’s own hand,” he warned again.
There would be no pleading or bargaining. As lonesome as the journey was, the bobcat could tell this coyote was not the type who he could be a companion to.


“Alright…But can I have some food? Just a little bit, it’s been a while since I ate.”


Derek withdrew his revolver and opened his pack, finding some stale bread and some fruit that was still good. The bobcat took it eagerly and ate, drinking some water when it was offered as well. There wasn’t really anything as far as conversation went.


Afterwards, the bobcat went his own way, but Derek took the apparent departure with a grain of salt. He walked slowly, expecting to hear lighter footsteps following him. There were none. He suspected the bobcat was being very careful and waited patiently. His pace was slow so that he would take longer to reach his destination, just in case. But his nose didn’t lie and the surrounding scents told him that the young feline had, indeed, gone another way, partially scared off by the threat of violence.


With this burden over with, Derek quickened his step and eventually came to a cave. The same cave he had seen in his dreams, where the song was coming from. Now was the time. He checked his revolver and made sure it was completely loaded. Usually he left one chamber empty but always loaded it if he expected trouble.


After that, he carefully removed the large cloth covering his 8-gauge. He unzipped his jacket and pulled two brass shells from a belt across his chest and loaded one in each barrel. Although he was preparing for a fight, he sincerely hoped there wouldn’t be one. While he was far from relaxed, he didn’t let himself tense up either as he closed the shotgun.


Slowly and carefully, he stepped into the cave and ventured in, looking for whatever it was that made the beautiful song that called to him.