It had now been roughly a month since Springer was brought here. One month since he had seen his family, old friends, or even gotten a full night’s sleep. He felt his body begin to lose it, and though he was muscular and fit, he still felt weak and exposed. Railroad had kept up the harassment, Springer now having the tip of his ear nipped off and a new wound across his clavicle. Sterling had ordered that the wound be stitched up, and with some of White Fang’s strongest whisky, he was astonished by how little it hurt. Once it wore off, however, it hurt like hell. 

Cartridge didn’t have the same reaction when Springer told him about it this time. Not like he didn’t care, but like he got timidly dismissive of it. It wasn’t like Cartridge to be intimidated by a little coyote, was it because he got bit? That could be, but he’s been bitten before, surely. Springer wasn’t going to nag, though. That would seem desperate and overly dependent, so he kept to himself about it. 

Sylvester’s voice came over the intercom, odd since it was late afternoon;“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. As you know, it is the first of November, and we all know how important tonight’s harvest is. Make your way down to the stage room, this month’s being mandatory to attend to.” he said, then hung up the intercom. Cartridge stood up, clicked off the TV, then removed his shirt to replace it with a cleaner one. Springer paused and looked over at him out of the corners of his eyes. He hadn’t realized exactly how fit Cartridge was, and the golden hare wasn’t really into girls. 

“So… what happens?” Springer asked. 

“You haven't been here long, we’re goin’ to The Reminder.” Cartridge said, pulling an orange shirt over his head, Springer froze. The Reminder? Again? 

“C’mon, we can’t be late.” Cartridge said, opening the door. Springer gazed out the door, into the dark corridor. It was dark out, but as hot as ever, a layer of sea spray caused thick fog over the isle. That combined with the warm streetlamps gave the street an eerie setting. The figures of carnivores and a few herbivores filling the street and moving in the same direction made the isle look like a zombie thriller, and if he was being honest, that’s a little like how Springer felt. His shoulders tightened up as they neared the building, and with each step, Cartridge’s embrace grew tighter. 

---

Everyone shuffled in through the small door, Springer gazing on with his jaw open and eyes pleading. He noticed a lynx was separated and tied to the same spot that Springer was the previous month, the same fear in her eyes that he had. They took their seats, somewhere in the middle, not too close to The Bowl, not too far back. 

“Do we have to watch this?” Springer pleaded, scooting closer to Cartridge. 

“Well… uhm..” The roo muttered. He didn’t particularly like coming to harvests either, but Sterling had said that this one was mandatory. Cartridge knew that his long-term best interest was to stay, especially since they had already come in and likely wouldn’t be allowed to leave. But having a small animal cling to his chest in fear was heart wrenching. 

“C’mere.” he said, picking Springer up and leaning against the wall, then cradling the golden hare in his lap. Cartridge’s mum used to do this when he was little, but she held him in her pouch. It was a little harder to do that when you didn’t have a pouch, so he used his arms to keep him settled. Springer leaned into his embrace, the warmth rather soothing to an agoraphobic animal like himself. The roo stroked his ears soothingly, it was a bit embarrassing, but Springer didn’t really care. Besides, no one would be focusing on them. For the first time since he’d been brought here, he felt like he could actually sleep. 

Cartridge scanned the crowd, the few other herbivores having similar uncomfortable or disgusted expressions, also being comforted by others. However, the majority of White Fang was made up of carnivores, who watched the stage with hungry eyes. The roo scowled at anyone who shot him a judgemental glare, the comfort of another being of higher importance to him than public view. A second group of young teens separated into a group next to the stage, but unlike those in The Bowl, they were excited. 

Sterling stepped onto the stage, The Reminder’s ‘head’ following him and poking him with her graspers until he acknowledged her. He set his hand on her head and her single red eye closed and a low chrill noise emanated from her. This time, Sterling was not the only one on stage. He was accompanied by a snow leopard and… Wilson. Springer perked his head up as soon as he spotted him. What was he doing on the stage? 

“As the last few find their seats, we gather here tonight to witness The Reminder demonstrating her raw power,” he resided the same speech from the previous harvest. “The miscreants you see before you have trespassed, stolen from, lied to, or otherwise betrayed White Fang, and will therefore be punished…” Sterling hissed triumphantly. Why repeat it? How many newcomers could there really be? 

“As some may know, the harvest of November is a very special one. These young men and women over here have reached the age that they are not only old enough to witness a harvest, but to partake in one.” he waved to the group of teens, “This is a test. Should they complete it, they will graduate to card members and may choose what task they wish. Should they fail, they go through extra training and are permitted to take the test again next year. Not everyone who fails is given a second chance. The reason for that is not everyone in White Fang is the child of an accepted member. Those who were brought here and given the honor that is partaking in a harvest, only to toss it away will be thrown in The Bowl and executed as well.” he growled, Springer felt his gaze focus on the back of his neck, even though he was standing in front of him, “But that is only because those who are weak are a liability to the growth of White Fang, and therefore must be eliminated from the genepool.” he snarled, a few in the crowd also barking in agreement. 

“I’d also like to introduce two people. Wilson, Svetlana, please come up here.” his tone shifted back to a happy one, the two cats stepping up to stand with him, “Wilson, this young serval is my… consort, and this dear is Svetlana. I have adopted her as my daughter and heir. I expect you all to treat them both with the same respect as you treat me with. Failure to do so will end poorly for you.” he lowered his voice again. Wilson shyly waved at the crowd and the snow leopard curled her tail around her legs. 

“The young members you see to the side here are not the only ones who need to complete the test, for there is someone not of the Isle’s blood.” Sterling teased, Cartridge’s shoulders tensed up as the hare’s gaze landed near him. He wasn’t gonna-

“Springer, The Golden Hare, please come up here.” Sterling ordered, staring right at him, “Come on, I know you’re here. I can see you.” the phrase no herbivore likes to hear. Everyone in the crowd and on stage turned their heads to him, Springer’s soul clenched. He stood, slowly, Cartridge standing up as well. He put a hand on his shoulder, as they descended the stadium. Springer’s ears flattened as they neared the stage, a guard nudging him up while another separated him from Cartridge. Wilson shot him a friendly smile, while Svetlana’s eyes gave a very different message. Sterling snapped his fingers quietly, grabbing Springer’s attention back. 

“Springer, when you first came here, you were rather useless. But, you have been given an opportunity to prove yourself.” He leaned in closer to the golden hare’s face, “Don’t make me regret sparing you.” he placed a cold hand on his wrist and tugged him over to the control panel. The Reminder’s head lowered, then a red beam scanned his face. 

“Sit.” Sterling ordered, Springer doing so without question. The brown hare turned back to face The Bowl, pointed to a clouded leopard, and smiled as a loop was tightened around his neck and dragged up to The Reminder’s jaws. The AI took him in her grasp and he fought, pleading in what sounded like German, but few understood what he was saying. 

“Springer!” Sylvester’s voice was sharp, “If you want to move up in ranking, there is a very simple thing you have to do.” he stepped closer to him, passed him, and fiddled with the control panel, “See that lever? Pull it.” he commanded. 

“W-What’ll it do…?’ Springer squeaked. 

“What do you think it will do?” Sterling said dryly, leaned in close again and lowered his voice, “Come and pull the lever.” he ordered, his eye boring into Springer’s soul. He gazed up out of the corners of his eyes, standing, Railroad’s words echoing through his head. 

“Skinner’s just itchin’ f’r an excuse t’ kill you.” 

“One lil slip up can can turn you from a livin, breathin, hoppin 'lil bunny into someone’s meal.” 

“I'll be the one who eats you.” 

“Come on, before she gets impatient.” Sterling hissed, snapping Springer out of his trance. The brown hare stood behind him now, watching carefully. Springer once again felt his eyes on his back, then on his neck. He made the mistake of looking up at the clouded leopard, the cat’s eyes pleading with him. The golden hare’s stomach turned, he saw Wilson also looking concerned, but intrigued at the same time. He wasn’t here for the last harvest, so he had no idea what The Reminder did. Sure, he probably had some idea, but he wouldn’t be watching so closely if he knew exactly… right? 

He gazed into the poor leopard’s eyes, then gave a sorry expression while shaking his head. He swallowed a lump in his throat, then gripped the lever. 

“This test is one of loyalty. If one can set aside their morals to follow a simple order, then they prove themselves worthy enough to aid in our conquest of the isle. There will be bloodshed, there will be death. You need to do this in order to not end up like the miscreants you see in The Bowl.” he turned back to face the small golden jackrabbit and frightened clouded leopard, “Throw the switch, dear. The crowd awaits.” he smiled, teeth exposed with a wide grin and crazed eyes. Springer’s throat vibrated, but no noise escaped him. He gripped the lever tighter, a whimper from the leopard made his vision fog as tears welled up in his eyes. He fought back a sob as he shakily pulled the lever, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at anyone. Even with his neck cut wide open, the clouded leopard still made gurgling noises as he was hung up-side-down. A warm liquid splashed onto Springer’s face, he didn’t have to open his eyes to know what it was. His eyes widened as a firm, cold hand gripped his shoulder. 

“Congratulations,” Sterling purred, but Springer’s ears were ringing far too loud for him to hear, “you’ve passed your test. You’re no longer a Farfife, I’d like you to turn in your green card.” he spun him around, the crowd applauding, congratulating him as well. Sterling took the green piece of metal from his pocket after no response from the shocked golden hare, and slapped an orange one in his hand instead. 

“You know,” Sterling pondered, “you’re starting to look a lot like… me.” he said with a proud smile, “Yes, your ear is torn, like mine.” he chuckled, probably not fully realizing he said it outloud. 

“Like…you?” Springer thought in horror. 

“Well,” Sterling cleared his throat, “you may sit and enjoy the rest of the show.” He smiled, turning back to The Reminder. 

“Enjoy it?!” Springer screamed mentally, his gaze fixed on Sterling as Cartridge stepped up and walked him back to the seats. He pressed his body against Cartridge, eyes glued to the body of the clouded leopard being skinned and cleaned like the previous white leopard had been. Was he going to hang that one, too? Springer whimpered, he didn’t cry, but his chest compulced. He let out a shaky sigh, not having the energy to just cry. He did spot Wilson, watching The Reminder work in awe. Why did he look so damn happy? Cartridge ran his fingers through the tuft of fur on Springer’s head, attempting to sooth him to the point where he’ll stop shaking. The golden hare didn’t have the energy to move, or even breath. 

---

Cartridge had offered to let Springer sleep on the couch with him so he could relax a little, but the hare declined, not wanting to be a nuisance. He lay on his bed, facing the ceiling, trying to count his thoughts as they entered his head. He was astonished by how much he’d changed since he was brought here. The once optimistic young hare was now this pathetic clump of matted fur who’s survival instincts kicked in whenever a carnivore was in the room. Thoughts that he was in the way or even expendable tore at his mind, along with the constant nagging feeling that he was being hunted. He’s never felt this kind of fear before. Not in school, not when he was out alone in the park, and definitely not in his own bed. This wasn’t his bed. This wasn’t his home. He’d never get to see his home, or his family, again. Ever. He could imagine how his mother felt, mourning him like he had died, and he mourned them the same way. 

He sat up, feeling like he would throw up. But, that was impossible, rabbits and hares can’t vomit. Maybe it was just difficult for them, because he definitely felt it. He stood up and dashed for the bathroom, holding his head over the toilet, but nothing happened. The feeling got worse, but nothing ever came up. As soon as it started, the feeling went away. Springer stood, dazed, then turned to go back to bed, but the mirror showed his face still covered in the leopard’s blood. He stopped, leaning over the sink and staring into the mirror. He clearly remembered washing his face as soon as he got back. Blood stained his gold fur, but this was fresh. He swallowed, begrudgingly reaching up to touch it. Yup, blood. Fresh blood, but how? 

A tickle in his throat made him cough, eventually descending into a coughing fit so violent, he spat up a glob of his own blood into the sink. The taste of iron-rich crimson liquid soaked his tongue, and the scent filled the room. The blood droplets on his face were now gone, but his jaws were dripping with it. Tears welled down his face and mixed with the thick, crimson liquid in the sink. The coughing had stopped and his jaw hung open, Springer staring into his reflection’s eyes. But, those weren’t his eyes, that wasn’t his reflection. Sylvester Sterling stood in front of him, smiling that damned smile like he had won a bet. His white, pigmentless eyes stared into Springer’s green ones.  

“NO!” Springer cried, leaping backwards into what he thought was the wall, but firm, cold hands grabbed him and spun him around. Sterling towered over him, in person and with no escape. Springer couldn’t move, Sylvester’s face twisted into an insane smile, bearing his also blood-stained teeth and his eyes narrowed to slits that glowed a bright white. He licked his lip, lapping up any droplet that threatened to dribble off. One of his hands felt up his neck, forcing his head to face skyward. Springer trembled, he felt like his body was at the mercy of this monster holding him still. Sterling moved his head close to his neck, his warm breath sending chills down his spine and back up to his ears. The only sound that escaped Springer’s vulnerable throat was a whimper as Sterling pressed his face into the crook of his neck like an affectionate buck looking for a little attention. A low growl came from Sterling, right before he snapped his jaws around Springer’s tender throat. He screamed, but it made a gurgling sound as his trachea was torn open. 

“Springer,” Sterling said, the smile never leaving his face. 

“Springer.” he said again, and again, each time sounding more desperate. 

---

“SPRINGER!!” Cartridge cried, Springer’s legs kicking so violently that the lower half of his body flew up as he awoke. His mind was foggy and he hyperventilated so rapidly, he felt as though he might puke, again. He glanced over to the reddish character next to him and yelped, then settled as he realized who it was. 

“Are you okay?!” the roo cried, holding Springer’s hand in his. The hare took a moment to process what he had said, not saying anything, just grabbing him and leaning back with him. Cartridge sat on the edge of the bed, hugging him tightly, not bothering to ask what had happened. 

“It’s alright. It’s okay, breath.” The roo said, scratching underneath Springer’s ears and down his neck. The hare breathed shakily, eventually settling down to the point where he could let his shoulders relax and ears stand back up. He sighed, pressing his forehead against Cartridge’s rusty red fur, eyes still wide open and muscles still tight. But he could eventually fall asleep. 

---

Springer had been summoned up to Sterling’s office once again, and to say he was dreading the visit was an understatement. He especially didn’t like the fact that he was being personally chaperoned by Envar, the stallion who dragged them here to begin with. His hooves clopped on the tile with each step, his red lens eye watching the small hare carefully. 

“You look like shit.” The stallion chuckled suddenly, snapping Springer’s attention. 

“Wha- oh! Yeah, I… I feel like it…” Springer replied. 

“No sleep?” Envar asked, Springer shook his head, “Yeah, I don’t sleep too well after harvests either.” the standardbred laughed.  

“You don’t?” Springer aked. 

“Naw, I always thought it was sick.” the stallion spat, “Poessing and serving meat is how White Fang keeps its power, I know that, but showing the execution as entertainment, is just… demented.” his ears drooped a little. 

“Yeah, i-it is. You’re Envar, right?” Springer asked, the stallion shook his head. 

“That ain’t my real name…” 

“What is?” 

“…Tanner.” the stallion said, hesitantly, “we’re here.” 

“What?” Springer clarified, stopping near the door. The walk up the stairs seemed a lot shorter this time, was it because he was talking to someone? Tanner opened the door and stepped in. Springer was met with Doc, that Axle guy, some mangled dog-like figure, and a very unhappy Sterling. Axle stepped forward and septerated Tanner and Springer, the stallion pinning his ears as the mountain lion slammed the door in his face, shutting him out. The lion gripped Springer’s shoulders and walked him to the desk, sitting him down next to Doc. The old wolf looked like he had been in a fight, he hung his head sorrowfully. 

“I’m sorry, son.” he wheezed, “they broke me.” 

“Springer, this is Mayhem,” Sterling started, the six-limbed, metal wolf stepped forward. She was huge, half of Springer’s body could probably fit in her jaws, “She’s my assassin, she deals with more… personal matters.” he chuckled darkly, and Doc looked like he regretted everything. Mayhem giggled. 

“Hi!” Mayhem cheered, taking Springer’s hand and shaking it roughly, teeth bared in a wide smile, “I’m Mayhem! I haven’t seen an herbivore in… ever! You look nice, I really hope I never have to skin you!” 

“Okay, Mayhem, that’s enough.” Sterling chuckled nervously, Springer’s eyes widened, “Take care of the wolf, I need to have a word with him. Alone.” he ordered, shooting a glare at Axle as well. The large cat nodded and left the room, followed by Mayhem lugging the crippled wolf behind her. 

“You want to know my story, hm? Why I am the way I am now, and where I came from? Fine.” The brown hare’s tone was cold, but Springer saw a glimmer of… sadness in his eyes. 

“You like to think your little world back home is just so happy, so perfect, don’t you? For you, maybe. Since meat was outlawed over two hundred years ago, underground processing plants have started showing up. They kidnapped herbivores and bred them, then slaughtered the offspring. After a while, the demand for meat got higher, mainly by rich predators who had the money to spend on absurd prices, so they had to turn to science. They started genetically modifying the fetus. After that didn’t satisfy, they started crossing the DNA of rabbits and chickens with bigger animals. Cows, hogs, even other carnivores, the same damn people they were trying to please. They wanted bigger animals, more meat, but they ended up with an entire litter of english hares that ate meat. Some of my DNA… is timber wolf DNA.” 

    “There's an entire litter of you?” Spinner asked, uncrossing his legs. 

    “There was, I was the only one who lived past the age of three. The plant was discovered after a while, I was only a few days away from slaughter when I was found. Hundreds of children were rescued and adopted out. I was adopted by a family of rabbits. Being a hare adopted into a much smaller species, by the time I was fifteen, I was taller than my dad. They knew of my mutation and tried to keep me, but eventually…I bit someone. Some zebra who thought it’d be a good idea to pick a fight with me. She hit me. She tried it twice, the second time was when I bit her. She got suspended, I got expelled. The couple who adopted me just handed me over to some mental asylum. They told me that they would help me, but all they did was keep me in a room, alone, with a straight jacket on. I kept telling myself they’d find out again and they’d come for me, but as three years went by, and with every time a plate of fake meat was slid into my cell,” he inhaled shakily, having to pause, “…I stopped eating that crap they gave me, I lost a lot of weight. 

    “Some lady came in one day, a gazelle or something. She had glasses, a clipboard, and a red top. She was pretty. She kept asking me questions, but I never responded, and yet she wrote stuff down. The sound of her pen on paper irritated me so much-” he stopped himself, lifting his hand to his mouth and began gnawing on his fingernails, eyes wide. The sound of his teeth grinding his nails and the jerking motion of his jaws said everything. 

“…The fool had left the door ajar and I made my way out, rather easily actually.” Sterling started again, moving his nails away from his mouth, “There were no guards and very few people on my floor, I unlocked every door I saw and made a run for it. In all the chaos, nobody noticed I had slipped out. I made it outside and just ran, I lost so much weight I could just chew on the straight jacket and slip out. 

    “I thought that maybe there was a reason my family didn’t come for me, like they’d been captured, so my first stop was my old house. The lights were on, the same car was in the driveway, I was happy to be home. I didn’t have a shirt on, the straight jacket was my shirt, but I-I didn’t care. I was home. I went to knock on the door, but there's a window leading right into the dining room. I saw them with a new little kid sitting in a highchair, right where I used to sit. Little bastard looked exactly like them, they had replaced me. I made one mistake and they replaced me. I thought, ‘no… they wouldn’t’ so I knocked on the door. I must still have had- I must have been a mess, because when mom answered, she screamed and tried to close the door. I stopped her and let myself in, trying to reintroduce myself to the family. I had an issue with chewing on my fur and I ruined my ears, I thought they just didn’t recognize me.” he paused. Springer didn’t necessarily need to know a moment of weakness, that they attacked him or that they treated him like I wasn’t speaking English when he said his name. How his father came at me with a rolling pin and mother got on the phone with the police. Springer didn’t need to know details about it, and the more time he wasted talking about it, the less time he had for more important things.

“They kicked me out,” he said after a moment, voice cracked,  and eyes closed for a moment, “I had no choice but to run back into the woods. I couldn't believe they kicked me out.” his voice cracked again, and his ears fell to the side of his head. He paused, resting his forehead in his fingertips as he took a shaky breath.

    “The way I thought… changed. Like someone flipped a switch. After the lights from the police faded into the distance, after it got late and dark out, I snuck in the back. It was very late and everyone had been in bed, I could hear them talking. I managed to get in through the window that couldn’t lock and slipped in, I remember the exact one to this day. I remember that little rat that replaced me, he was in a crib with a mobile of carrots hanging above him…” He trailed off, Springer shifted in his seat, his throat tightening, “I don’t remember it much, but…it was quick and bloody, his skull cracked with almost no effort. I made my way to my parents’ room… and spaced. When I woke up on the bathroom floor, they were dead. Blood and guts everywhere, I didn’t want them dead. Someone else got to them first. Something told me- something told me that I killed them, but I wouldn’t do that. That little voice you get in your head told me who it was, I knew I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn't kill my parents! I knew it was- I was told that the zebra, they caused the past three years to even happen, so of course.” He smiled, eyes wide and crazed but still appearing to have a touch of emotion in them. Sterling looked up at the golden hare, figuring that he already knew what he was capable of, so telling where that started wouldn’t be too horrible. 

“I hunted them. I picked them off one by one until their house went up for sale. The last one I got was the sister of the mare that I bit in highschool. My face was all over the news by now- it was her fault for not locking the door, for the record. If you know someone is hunting you, leaving the door unlocked is natural selection. That mare is still alive, to my knowledge. The one I bit, I mean.

“That night started a craving, being the one who decides who lives and who dies, and being in control of how they die. It was that night that made me realize that anyone will listen to you if you hold them at gunpoint. I couldn’t control myself, I needed more blood. That's when I discovered my craving for real meat, my craving for the hunt. I did get caught eventually before I could finish my work, and that’s when I was brought here. I worked my way up a hierarchy, eventually becoming the leader of a small gang. It grew to the magnificent size it is now in just six short years. I still have a bone to pick with the family, and that is one of  my goals.  

“So, are you satisfied, Springer? You now know me better than all but three people in this society. How do you feel?” he purred, leaning in. 

“Honest answer? Horrified.” Springer shifted. 

“Ha! Well, I suppose that’s fair. I do feel a bit better now.” he muttered under his breath. Springer nodded sublelly, waiting for him to continue, but all he did was arrange things on his desk to be perfectly lined up. He spent a solid thirty seconds on one pen lining up with the papers on the corner. 

“Uh… is that all?” the golden hare asked.

“Uh-huh.” Sterling said, not taking his eyes off the pen. 

“So, he’s a sociopath with OCD. Great.” Springer thought, “Well, I guess I’ll go then.” 

“Yes, yes. Just, next time if you have questions, ask me. Doc said you also asked about The Reminder, I would’ve been happy to talk about her. That old moron doesn’t know what year it is, let alone anything about me or the things I do. Whatever he told you, I can almost guarantee it’s not true. He’s old and senile, and he got most of that from the news over six years ago.” he paused, looking up at him for a moment, “I know the newspapers said I killed my parents, but I didn’t. I’m more offended by the fact that you felt the need to snoop around behind my back instead of cronfriting me. It’s cowardice." he trailed off, expression hardening, “I’m putting you in with a trainer, I plan to make landfall within the next few weeks, and I need an army. You’ll meet a weasel named Zack by the quad after this, it’s right at the corner on the left-hand side. You’re going to learn how to fight.” he said, pointing the pen he was adjusting at him with a friendly/confident smile. A genuine smile looked more unsettling on him than his usual one. 

“You really think I can fight?” Springer asked. 

“Pffft, no.” he laughed, “But you have proven to be a quick learner. I expect great progress by the end of the week. Don’t disappoint me.” his tone cut like a blade. 

“I-I won’t.” Springer said in reflex. 

“Good, now go.” Sterling ordered, going back to arranging his desk. Springer hastily stood and left the room, leaving the building and scanning the streets for the courtyard. In hindsight, he probably should’ve asked exactly where he was going, but he said it was just down the street. He spotted a wall surrounding an open courtyard and he guessed that was probably where it was. 

---

He also should have asked what was going to happen to Doc, but the more he thought about it, the more he decided it wasn’t a good idea. Sterling already hated him, and prodding about such things may irritate him more, he was already annoyed about the whole situation with his past. Springer did sympathize with him after that, but not enough to side with him. He was delusional, he woke up covered in his parents’ blood, so it was clearly the zebra’s fault. He couldn’t help but feel for him, he must have been a little feral. Honestly, that made him scarier. He already enjoyed killing people publicly as “an example”, but the fact that he could space and not understand what went wrong… Psychopath.  

He poked his head in the gate and saw dozens of young, teen-looking individuals, all standing around and bickering. He recognized them from the harvest the previous night, all just standing around or leaning on a wall. Mostly canines and felines, a few weasels and even a couple horned herbivores like deer and antelope. None of them could have been older than Springer, in fact, they all looked younger than eighteen. He stepped forward, finding a place to stand and wait, a weasel he presumed was Zack was standing on a pedestal with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Springer’s ear twitched towards a group of young foxes, all looking at him excitedly. 

“Hey,” a little gray fox called to him, “are you that hare from last night? The one who took the first test?” he asked, stepping closer shyly, his friends following him. 

“Uh… yeah.” Springer replied, the smile on the young fox’s face widening. 

“Dude! Is it true that you turned in that thief? Is that why you were allowed to live?” he excitedly asked. 

“Thief? Oh, Crosshatch? Yeah, I did, but I didn’t mean to. I don’t know why I was…allowed to live.” he said. 

“We heard you’re friends with Skinner’s boyfriend, do you have any idea how much power that gives you? I’m Mott, by the way.” he extended his hand for the hare to shake, “That’s Nick, Oliver, and Marten.” he pointed to each of his friends. 

“I’m Springer.” the hare said, taking the fox’s hand and shaking it. 

“Is it true that you’re another hare that eats meat?"Oliver, the red fox, asked. 

“Well, yeah, but not by cho-”

“Alright, everybody shut up.” The weasel snapped. He wore a white shirt and gym shorts, his cigarette in between his fingers. He scanned the group, getting a good look at everyone while taking a puff. 

“Some of you know me, but for those who don’t, I’m Zack. I will be teaching you how to fight in hand-to-hand combat and how to defend yourself. Soon, we will talk weapons, but for now, we need to get you pathetic clumps of fur into shape.” his gruff voice hissed, “I have been training kids like you since I’ve been here. In White Fang, that is. I probably know how to fight better than most, if not all of you. This is not my only class, just my first class of the day. You are expected here everyday after breakfast and you will stay here until I say so, but usually until 11 o’clock. We do not have sessions on Sundays, that is your rest, and your only rest all week. I do not want to see you lazing around, even if you are done with your workout. You either stretch or spot someone else, understood?” he snapped, the group of teens nodding.  

“As some of you may also know, Skinner is planning to make the mainland and needs plenty of us in his breach of the borders. That is why you are all here. Some of you know the basics of fighting, but most of you have your heads up your asses. For the first week, we’ll lift and overall start to get in shape. Getting into shape is not a fun process, and this will not be fun for the first few weeks. A workout shouldn’t be fun, but you should enjoy it to a point. Working out hurts, but here you will learn how to turn pain into power. Meet me up the stairs and in the weight room.” he pointed up the huge flight of stairs behind him, everyone shuffling towards them. 

“Come on!” he snapped, clapping his hands rapidly, “Run up those stairs! We’re getting in shape here! Y’all are moving like a herd o’ fat cows!” He ordered, the group picking up speed. Springer could tell that this was going to be a long day. 

---

Springer groaned, struggling to even lift a cup of water to his face. He pushed open the door to his room, expecting Cartridge sitting on the couch like he usually was, but he wasn’ here. The hare sighed, at least he had a while to himself. A shower didn’t sound like a bad idea, and with his tight and fatigued muscles, the hot water on his back could feel nice. Usually rabbits and water didn’t mix well, but it was hotter than hell outside, so a little water wouldn’t hurt. 

He stepped into the bathroom, avoiding looking into the mirror as a whole. He gathered a towel and some clean clothes, then turned on the faucet, the water coming out already lukewarm. The sound of the running shower reminded him of rain, which he realized he hasn’t seen since he came here. Rain always helped him sleep, not like he usually had problems, but maybe that could help him now. 

He removed his clothing, the water now hot enough for him to get in. He stepped into the shower, the hot water sending chills around his body. He dragged his nails through his fur, the gold coat being washed down the special drain made specifically for fur to avoid a clog. Rabbits had dense fur, which was one reason water wasn’t always the best idea, but it needed to be brushed daily. The combo of the hellscape heat and Springer not keeping up to date with the brushing caused a few small matts in his coat on areas like his back and front of his neck. The little black fur he had seemed to spread like ink as the stripe on his back became overgrown and messy due to lack of hygiene and clothing rubbing on it constantly. 

He gritted his teeth as he attempted to brush out the matted fur around his neck, but his nails got stuck. He used the hot water and a little fur conditioner to get the mat to release, the whole thing coming out in chunks. He curled up his lip at the mess of gold and brown fur and flicked it into the garbage can by the sink. He conditioned the rest of his fur, more gold hairs falling out and into the drain. After he was covered in soap, he just stood under the water, taking in the little pleasure he got from the warmth. He justified himself for standing there for much longer than he needed to by arguing with his own thoughts that he needed to make sure all the soap was out. 

He found himself sitting down after a while, under the water, letting it fall on his head and face. Standing seemed exhausting after all, and the water felt so much better when he could completely relax. He breathed slowly, the steam from the shower fogging up the mirror. He smiled to himself slightly, he was safe. Safe from the fear of seeing someone else in the mirror, or seeing his reflection do something he was sure he didn’t do. He turned over, letting the water massage his back and neck while pressing his forehead on the tile wall. He sighed, content with where he was at this moment. He could almost fall asleep here, under the warm water, and he almost did. 

The slam of the front door woke him from his daze. He stared into the tile for a moment, breathing heavily, mind just as foggy as the mirror was. He stammered, then shook his head and stood up, cutting the water and towel-drying himself. He leaned on the sink for balance as he found he had stood up too quickly and his vision blacked out for a moment. He had done nothing, yet he was out of breath, ears quivering slightly as he began drying himself again. He got dressed, the fabric clinging to his damp fur as he stepped out of the bathroom, the steam pouring out like a sauna. He peeked out of the bedroom, seeing Cartridge sitting on the couch with his head back and his eyes closed. 

“Hey.” Springer said softly, stepping out of the doorway. 

“Hey.” The roo said, exhausted, not moving an inch. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, just tired.” he said, opening his eyes to look at him. 

“Rough day?” Springer sat next to him. 

“You could say that, it’s hotter than hell out there.” The roo said, even his accent was too tired to show, “I think I’ll take a cold shower.” he said, lifting his head up. 

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” Springer said. 

“Are you okay? You look spooked.” 

“I’m fine, the heat just does that to me.” the hare smiled. 

“Drink some water, mate. Don’t wantcha’ passin’ out.” 

“Will do, thanks.” he shyly smiled at him. 

“I’m serious.” 

“So am I, thanks.” Springer said. Cartridge nodded at him and stood up, prepping his shower. Springer smiled again, then clicked on the TV, scrolling through the twelve channels the isle got. There wasn’t much on, but at least he could stare at some moving pictures to pass time. His fur wasn’t completely dry, but he didn’t see it necessary to go outside and let the water avaperate. Besides, it was probably too humid out anyway, he was better off staying inside. He leaned his head back against the couch, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. Perhaps a nap wouldn’t be a horrible idea. TV at a low volume, freshly clean fur, and a sunny day after a workout, all perfect conditions for a nap. He yawned, breathing slowed, eventually drifting into a light slumber.