The dusk blessed the isle with cool humidity, keeping the heat away. The dark sky lighting up with the sunset reflecting off the fog, giving the illusion of light in the skies, but the land staying dark. With the new moon, it would only get darker, and colder. The hiss of the waves slapping into the concrete walls drowned out into whitenoise as orders and commands were barked at workers, loading up the huge wooden ships that would carry them to their destiny, as Sterling called it. Hauls of food and cargo, no two feet stayed still, except for those of the brown hare, his apprentis and daughter, and the captain of these ships. 

    “Beautiful to watch them work, isn’t it?” the brown hare said, rhetorically.    

    “Like clockwork.” The chimp said. Sterling smiled, scanning every worker, spotting the golden hare lifting and loading crates and crates of meat to be dried or smoked for the trip. 

    “Ye’ did say ye’d be bringin’ back more of that, right?” Baybeard said. 

    “Of course, we have a deal. If we brought it all, it would go far too quickly. Besides, we’d have to carry three times that amount.” Sterling said, eyes never leaving the young hare he’d been watching for weeks. 

    “Uh, Sylvester?” the timid British voice behind him squeaked. 

    “Yes, my love?” The brown hare whipped around with a smile. 

    “Why are we going to the mainland? Isn’t this incredibly dangerous?” The serval asked, hands folded in front of him. 

    “Heh, would you give us a minute?” he asked Baybeard, who turned back to watch the workers, “I thought I explained this already…” 

    “You did,” Svetlana muttered with heavily-accented english.

    “All you said was you had ‘unfinished business’ in Liverpool, you haven’t given any details…” Wilson looked down, staring back up at him with big eyes. Sterling sighed, the snow leopard now also awaiting an answer.

    “It’s a bit personal, but we’re going to get someone. At least, I am. Different groups are getting different things, we are picking someone up. Potentially, multiple people.” he trailed off. 

    “Willingly…?” Wilson asked. 

    “Hopefully. It’d make my life much easier.” Sterling said, turning back to the workers. 

    “Und, if not?” Svetlana asked. 

    “Then, I’ll burn a few calories.” Sterling muttered, Baybeard chuckled. 

    “Expectin’ a chase, aRe ya?” He laughed. 

    “Well, this person and I aren’t exactly on good terms…” he said as Fang, the crocodile, stepped up to him. 

    “Sir, I caught someone lurking in The Corridor the other day. Said he was sent by you to get information from that old wolf.” he croc said. 

    “Were they a cheetah?”

    “No, sir. A rabbit, or hare.” he said, Sterling turned his head to the group of workers. 

    “It wasn’t by chance that golden hare, was it?” he gestured to Springer, who was busy at work. 

    “I think so. It was dark, but I think it was.” Fang said. 

    “Oh, he’s snooping again…” Sterling hissed, “Keep an eye on him. If he does anything questionable, bring him to me. Alive.” he ordered, Fang nodding and leaving the podium to continue looking out. 

    “What exactly aRe ye planning on doing once ye get there?” Baybeard asked. 

    “Various things, none of which can be discussed so publicly. I’ll tell you everything once we’re aboard and on our way. Just in case we’re being listened to right now.” Sterling scanned the workers, all hastily loading the ships with supplies and food. 

    “Just out of curiosity, what happens if we run out of food? Just, by chance. White Fang eats a lot.” Sylvester asked. 

    “The Suez Canal is very close, hella lotta ships come outta there, s’ why we choose these waters. If need really be, we take some, like real pirates. Why?” 

    “Just wondering, like I said. It’s always good to have a plan just in case something happens.” the brown hare said, eyes fixated on the nosey little golden rabbit, who loaded crates and crates of stuff onto carts.

--- 

    Springer breathed heavy, slamming a crate of what appeared to be pure salt onto a wooden cart, paused to catch his breath, then tuned to load another crate onto it. He paused before picking it up, stretching his exhausted limbs to relieve some of the tension in his muscles. The pine marten he had met just a few weeks ago, Vito, walked past him, showing off by carrying two crates stacked on top of each other and barely breaking a sweat. 

    “Need-a hand?” he asked after setting them down, not really waiting for a response before picking up the crate sat in front of Springer. The light sparkle in his eyes led the young hare to believe he wasn’t intending to show off, but genuinely trying to help. He had seen the competitive expression before, and the look on the martin’s face definitely wasn’t it. 

    “Thanks.” he breathed, leaning over his knees as his shoulders raised as he released labored breaths. He’d gotten along with Vito a lot better than he really expected. In fact, they’ve impacted each other a lot. Springer helped him remember certain words in English, and Vito’s accent had seemed to rub off on him a little. He’d caught himself emphasizing on vowels at the end of words and lacking the “th” sound, two common occurrences in a rich Italian accent like Vito had. The only reason he noticed it was because Cartridge pointed it out the other day. 

    “That’s the last of them.” someone called, the jackal standing watch on the ship’s deck signaling to Sylvester, who grinned. 

    “Finally!” he exclaimed, Baybeard and the two felines following Sylvetser. 

    “Wait,” Wilson said, the brown hare turning, “I need to talk to Springer, I’ll be right back.” 

    “Be quick.” Sterling said sharply, waving the pirate captain off. Wilson joged up to Springer, who flinched as he tapped his shoulder. 

    “Oh, hey!” he exclaimed with a smile, Vito looking over his shoulder. 

    “Hey, I haven’t seen you around, what’s going on?” the serval asked. 

    “I donno, I've just been a bit busy. Where have you been?” Springer asked, voice a little hoarse. The pine marten took a step closer, head cocked to the side a little. 

    “Sylvester said he tried to get you to come up and talk, but you were out everytime he came over- who are you?” Wilson snapped, Springer turning to meet Vito standing cautiously behind him. 

    “That’s Vito, he’s not doing anything,” the young hare said, “I've been training, but I’ve never seen him over. And Cartridge would have told me if he’s seen him-” 

    “Wilson, we really must go now.” Sterling introjected, wrapping his arms around the small cat, “There will be plenty of time to talk when we get back, because you and I are going on the Captain's ship.” Wilson stammered, Springer glared at the brown hare who smirked. 

    “I-I’ll talk to you later, but we will talk right?” the serval asked. 

    “Yes, of course. But, we’ve got to board now.” Sterling said sharply, not so subtly pulling him away. Springer grunted at him, ears pinned back, turning to Vito. 

    “Remember how I said I came here with someone else? That was him.” he said. 

    “Oh.” the marten said, twiddling his fingers. 

    “He’s a lot nicer when he really meets you. He’s just shy-” 

    “Vito!” the British voice snapped from the deck of the captain’s ship, “You’re with us!” he shouted, waving his arm. Springer frowned, the two of them exchanging expressions before Vito stepped away. He turned, bumping into the red kangaroo he had briefly met prior. 

    “Oh, hey…” he muttered, avoiding the roo’s glare. He swallowed, then stepped around him after Cartridge didn’t move aside for him. 

Sterling watched the little dispute closely, brow furrowed at them all, but at least Vito had potential.

“Sir, we don’t have enough rations for another person.” Fang said. 

    “That’s why I’m switching you two out. He’ll take your place on this raid, and you’ll go with them.” Sterling said, then lowered his voice, “Keep a close eye on that golden hare, his name is Springer. Since you’re the one who caught him, if he’s getting nosy again, he’ll get in trouble. If he does anything questionable, restrain him and bring him to me when we return, understood?” 

    “Uh, yes sir, but I’d be more than happy to execute him for you-” 

    “Any executions will be by my order, and not a moment before or after. Besides, you’re sloppy with a knife.” Sterling said under his breath, “Now go.” he ordered. Fang nodded and leapt off the ships deck, passing the pine marten as they swapped. 

    “Dove,” he called Wilson, who responded with an inaudible noise, “Why don’t you and Svetlana go settle in your chambers, Baybeard’ll show you. I’ll join you in a minute.” 

    “Sure.” Wilson said, stammering, both cats turning to the captain, who greeted them with a toothy smirk. 

    “Follow me.” he said, leading them down to the crew’s quarters. Svetlana winced, but followed him down below the deck. Wilson glanced at Sterling, then went with them, not wanting to be left behind and lost. 

    Sterling gazed at the horizon, sun now hiding under the dark water of the ocean. Light sea breeze blew past, the night fog beginning ro role in over the distance. 

    “Mister?” 

    “OH!” a staticy voice said as Sterling jumped, “Mayhem! Dear lord, I need to put a bell on you.” he breathed, clutching his chest, “What is it, dear?” 

    “If you’re gonna kill-”

    “Sh-shh,” he hissed, then waved her over. 

    “Are you gonna kill the golden hare?” she asked in a whisper, but eager nonetheless.

    “Potentially. If he really screws up. Or if the opportunity presents itself for an… accident.” he muttered back, sanning the beach, dock, and ships like a hawk. 

    “Ooh… if you do, can I have his ears on a keychain?” she asked. 

    “Sure. It’s not like I’m going to use any part of his face anyway… The rest of him is mine.” 

    “Of course. No one would get in the way of your trophy, sir.” 

    “Hush, Mayhem, we’re trying to establish trust here.” he whispered to her, the six-limbed droid laying down and resting her arms on the railing like Sterling was. Laying down, she was as tall as he was, her tail curled around them and the blade resting on the wooden dock. 

    Vito covered his mouth with his hand, quieting his breathing. He couldn’t have heard him correctly, why would he want to kill Springer? There was no way he heard him right, it was loud on the ship with everyone shouting orders at each other, he just misheard him. But… still, from what Vito had heard, Skinner didn’t take mistakes lightly, and he couldn’t lie to himself about the sheer lack of herbivores in the territory. 

    Footsteps approached him, so he stood and acted like he was preoccupied and hadn’t overheard a thing. The owner of the footsteps passed him by, then the ship started moving. He braced himself against the crates he hid behind, then felt a gentle sway. Vito left the cover of the heavy wooden boxes to peek over the railing, pointed waves of dark abyss slapping against the hull. 

    “W’as the matter, boy?” a hoarse voice cackled, “Never seen te sea bef’r?” Baybeard laughed, slapping his back. 

    “Not up close…” the marten replied, staring back down at the water. 

    “W’ere ye from?” the captain asked. 

    “Eh, t’e isle,” he replied. 

    “Don’ get smart wi’t me, boy. Now w’ere ye from-” 

    “He was born on the isle,” Sterling snapped from behind the captain, “He’s not being smart, he’s being honest. I thought you liked honesty.” he hissed, hands folded behind his back. Mayhem stood behind him, down on all six of her limbs with her body and tail curled around Sylveter like a dragon. 

    “O’ course. I apologize, I wouldn’t h’v known.” Baybeard said. 

    “Yes… Vito here is one of the unfortunate souls who was born on this pathetic chunk of land…” Sterling said, wrapping his arm around the pine marten and setting his hand on the opposite shoulder, “But out of all the miscreants I’ve met, he’s by far the most well-behaved.” he grinned, Vito having no other response than a confused smile. 

    “You said your father was Italian though, didn’t you?” he purred. 

    “Uh, yeah.” he replied. 

    “Meet me up here after dinner, I’d like to speak to you.” Sterling said, eyes locked with Vito’s. 

    “Okay… anyt’ing bad?” 

    “No, of course not. I’d just like to clear a few things up.” the hare smiled, Baybeard left the vicinity to go man this ship like he was supposed to. Vito hunched his shoulders, glancing at the mechanical beast, who has since stood up normally. 

    “By the way, this is Mayhem.” Sterling said, removing his hand from the marten’s shoulder and waving her over, “She’s my personal executioner, but you don’t have to worry about that. You’ll see her everywhere, and I’m sure you’ll get along. Especially after we clear things up.” he smiled. 

    “Right.” Vito replied. 

    “Right, well dinner’s soon. I’m afraid it’s not going to be as big as it would normally be… but, meat spoils if it’s not refrigerated, and we don’t exactly have a big freezer here, do we? I’m sure you’ll find it suitable, however, don’t worry. Now, go get your food.” he ordered, waving him away while he watched the isle get further and further away. 

    Vito stepped away from the hare, heart pounding. He knew he told Springer about his father, but never recalled mentioning it to Sterling. He must have said something, how else would he know? Or, he just guessed correctly, his accent did give him away. The Mastiffs said he was sharp, and could read you so well it was like he was inside your head. If that was true, he must have picked up on his nerves firing. Creepy thought that he could almost read your mind, but that had to be an exaggeration… right? 

---

    Springer sat on his hammock, legs dangling over the edge. He scratched his neck and hoped they didn’t have fleas here. Though, he supposed if they ever did, the salty ocean would deal with them pretty quickly. 

    “Hey,” an Australian accent said, Cartridge sitting on the wood floor next to him, “Gotcha’ dinner.” he said, handing him a plate of beans and dried lettuce. 

    “Thanks.” Springer said, taking the plate - which turned out to be a slab of hard clay - and just stared at it for a minute. 

    “Been a while since we got to eat together, huh?” Cartridge said, picking up a piece of lettuce and biting it, the leaf crunching. 

    “Yeah.” He responded, even though it’s only been a couple days since they had a dinner date. 

    “So, how’s the new roommate?” the roo asked. 

    “He’s… okay. He’s nice, English ain’t his first language. He forgets words sometimes, then we play a little game of charades, and one of us eventually guesses it.” Springer picked at the leaves on his plate, scooping some of the beans onto a lettuce leaf and using that as a spoon.

    “If he don’t know English, then where’s he from?” Cartridge asked. 

    “He said he was Italian, but he was born on the isle. Said his dad ran a fight club, and that he was his champion until a few weeks ago.” the hare replied, then paused and thought that maybe that was a sensitive topic and he shouldn’t have spilled his guts like that. 

    “Must be in good shape then.” the roo responded, rhetorically. 

    “Yeah, I bet. He’s pretty… muscular. Real strong, did you see him carry those crates?” 

    “Yeah, bet that’s why Sterling wanted him.” 

    “He said he was gonna-” he cut himself off, he really should stop talking about Vito, “uh, never mind, I forget. How have you been?” 

    “Good. My roommate’s another roo, so that’s nice.” he said, covering his mouth. 

    “Yeah? What’s he like?” 

    “Like me, just has an accent like yours.” 

    “Really?” 

    “Mhmm,” he hummed his response since his mouth was full. That had ended the conversation, since both of them were hungry after loading the ships, but the air seemed thicker than normal. That was likely due to the lack of background noise from the TV. 

    A surprising person entered the room, Envar, who stopped and scanned the two of them with a plate of the same food held awkwardly in his hooves. 

“Oh, hey.” he said, then sat down on a barrel, staring at the plate on his lap, gears in his head turning away as to how he was supposed to eat. 

“Howdy. What are you doin’ down here?” Springer asked. 

“Sterlin’ put me here, but told me I’d be meetin’ up with him once we get wherever the hell we’re supposed to be. Said there’d be no point in keeping vegetarian rations for one person, so all the herbivores are on this ship.” he said, glancing up at them then back at his plate. His ear twitched and one of the graspers from his shoulder picked up a leaf for him. 

“That’s nice when you ain’t got hands.” Cartridge said, Envar nodded. 

“Yeah, it’s the only good thing that sick bastard did for me.” the stallion said, Cartridge taking another bite of his ‘salad’.

“So what do you think Skinner wants with Vito?” Springer asked suddenly, interrupting the roo’s chewing. He swallowed, then thought for a moment. 

    “I dunno. Why?” he asked. 

    “It just seemed weird. He called him over at the last minute.” Springer pondered. 

    “That hare does weird things,” Envar introjected, “and lives unpredictably. Life is a game to him, you wanna understand him? Think like you’re playing chess. Who’s Vito?”

    “He’s a pine marten. He’s new.” Cartridge said. 

    “He’s my roommate now.” Springer added. 

    “Oh, yeah, him… He kinda showed up outta nowhere, we just sorta ran into him. He stuck out, lotta jewelry, clean fur, very well-fed. He was trespassing’, so we brought him to Sterlin’. It wasn’t much different from when we brought you here.” he looked at Springer, who blinked. 

    “Anyway, I gotta go. I’ll be right back,” Envar said, standing. 

    “You didn’t finish your dinner.” Springer said.

    “I’ll finish it later, I’ll be back in a minute.” he said, “And please, call me Tanner.” he smiled before he clopped back up the stairs.

---

    Vito poked his little head up out of the portal to the sleeping chambers, Sterling’s back being highlighted by the lanterns. The pine marten swallowed, stepping up the stairs and towards the brown hare. 

    “Glad you could make it,” Sterling said suddenly, “I was worried you’d forgotten.” 

    “O’course not. Couldn’t if I wanted to.” Vito replied, standing next to him, both gazing into the distance. 

    “Do you remember what I told you when I brought you here?” the hare asked. 

    “Eh, t’at we’d settle my job when we got back?” Vito pondered. 

    “Well, yes, but that’s not what I meant. You told me that you were a fighter, the way you described it sounded like boxing. I told you that you could fight like that again for entertainment, because all work and no play makes people angry, and they’re less likely to listen to you.” Sterling turned to a table, a bottle of a golden-color drink and glasses resting on top of it, “But, I also told you that you didn’t have to fight in order to live happily. All you have to do for that is follow orders, understood?” He poured himself a glass of the drink. 

    “Do you like whisky?” He set the glass down. 

    “I dunno.” Vito replied, Sterling handed him a glass with just a sip’s worth in it. He held it to his muzzle, a wooden-coconut, almost carmaly smell stung his nose. He took a sip and winced, the sweet smell masking the mild bitterness to the drink. 

    “You’ve never had it before, have you?” Sterling chuckled, “It grows on you after a while.” he took a sip of his much fuller glass, “It’s also better with a little ice. You’d like a cocktail better, I’m sure.” he thought aloud, Vito nodded, setting his glass down with no intention to pick it back up. 

    “Anyway, I have a test for you, to prove yourself to not just me, but to White Fang. However, in most cases I have an idea of what that test will be, but you were a bit of a surprise. You won’t get to fight until you’re tested.” he said, taking another swig of his drink. 

    “What kinda test?” Vito asked. 

    “I can’t tell you that, it’d spoil it. And don’t bother asking around, it’s forbidden from discussing it with anyone who hasn’t been tested yet.” 

    “Ain’t the point of a test not to tell ‘em that it’s a test?” the marten asked. 

    “If you’re going to test their mindset, or behavior, yes. This is not that kind of test. That’s all I can say about that, but I did have a question about your roommate…” he trailed off, staring blankly at the dark water. Vito’s throat tightened up. 

    “Yeah…?” 

    “Mhmm. He has a history of being rather nosy, have you seen him snooping around?”

    “N-No sir.” 

    “Don’t lie to me.”

    “I ain’t lyin’ sir.” 

    “Because I was told he got caught in The Corridor, a place that is off-limits to all people except the few I permit inside. He is not one of those people. You didn’t see him go in, did you?” 

    “No. I don’t even know where t’e Corridor is.” He said, licking his whiskers. The hare narrowed his eyes at him, but the marten stayed quiet. 

    “I suppose that’s true.” Sterling said, finishing his drink, “I suppose that’s if from me… Do you have any questions?” 

    “Jus’ one… Dinner here was stew, wasn’t it?” 

    “Yes, I believe so.” 

    “Jus’ about t’e food in general… It’s real meat, ain’t it?” 

    “Yes, you’re the first person who found out without being told, good for you.” Sterling grinned. 

    “Where did you get it…?” 

    “Where do you think I got it? It’s harvested, obviously. Every month, we have a ceremony where people watch their food being harvested right in front of them. It was originally just to send a message about what happens if I'm crossed, but people found it enjoyable. It’s mandatory for newcomers to witness it, but everyone else can show as they please, unless it’s the harvest of November, which is where teen graduates come in to prove themselves, just like you will have to.” he nudged him, then cocked his head at the lack of wonder in his eyes. 

“They’re just rejects, Vito. Everyone brought here is a criminal, including myself, and if they want to throw away the opportunity I give them, then they’re better off dead anyway. A supper will be the best thing they will ever be again, at that point. At least then they’ll be useful.” Sterling hissed, “Don’t look so glum, Vito. That won’t happen to you. Unless you really screw up.” he lowered his tone, “But, it’s so difficult to become that worthless to me, you’d actually have to try. So, don’t try to fail me, and you won’t.” he patted the pine marten’s back playfully, then took his bottle of whisky and headed back to the sleeping quarters. 

    “By the way,” the hare called from the stairs, “Withholding important information or lying to me would count as failing me. Just keep that in mind.” Sterling said coldly, “Goodnight!” he exclaimed happily, leaving Vito on the gas-lantern-lit deck of the ship, with nothing to do but stare into the dark abyss of the sea.

---

    The sunrise made the horizon less foreboding, the sparkling water seemed to smile at the ship. The clouds reflected the sunlight into bright and vibrant pinks and oranges, highlighting the sky with life. Springer gazed out the window at the sky, a beautiful view from his hammock. He glanced at Cartridge sleeping soundly in his own hammock, positioned right next to his. He rested his chin in his hand and smiled dreamily at him. A deep inhale and quiet groan caught his ear as Tanner snored. There were only a few others in the room still asleep, many had since woken and left the room, presumably for breakfast. 

    Tanner’s tail hung off the edge, swishing back and forth as he awoke to the sound of a fly. He snorted as he sat up, sleepiness still in his eye - his good eye - and drooping ears. 

    “Mornin’.” Springer said, laying back down in his hammock. 

    “Mornin’. What you doin’ up?” the stallion asked, one of his graspers wiping oils off his eye lens. 

    “I dunno. Just got used to it, I guess.” 

    “Yeah, Sterlin’ wakes up at the same time every day, you’d swear he was the AI, heh.” Tanner chuckled. 

    “I meant to ask- don’t take this the wrong way, but how do y’all get around?” Springer asked. 

    “‘Y’all’ as in horses? Not easily…” he said, “Hard t’ do shit when you ain’t got no thumbs. There ain’t many equidade-friendly places on the isle.” 

    “What about before that? You said you and Crosshatch had history.” Springer asked. 

    “Oh, don’t remind me a’ that bastard. He was just a crook who said he could get me my weight in cash, back when I was young ‘n stupid.” 

    “Hm…” Springer replied, “What about that? I thought prosthetics didn’t work with hoofed mammals?” he asked, pointing at his fake hoof. 

    “They don’t, and this ain’t no different. I dunno how it works, I think it’s weighted so I don’t trip on it.” 

    “Do you sleep in it?”

    “Not usually, but they’re pirates.” he lowered his voice and leaned closer to the golden hare, “I ain’t lettin’ this thing get stolen by a bunch o’ lowlifes’. Somethin’ happens to this thing, I can’t walk ‘til we get back to the isle.” 

    “What about your arm? Why not make a hand?” 

    “Hell if I know. I asked him to do what he did with Feral, have a prosthetic that can switch, and he said he’d look into it, but he never got back to me. Keeps on making excuses about it. Said he can’t get the resources, I ask to see the blueprint so I can find ‘em, never gave me the blueprint like he said he would, now he just refuses to talk to me about it. I swear to god, that son of a bitch doesn't like herbivores. I don’t care what people say, he hates herbivores!” 

    “Envar, shut the hell up.” one of the other Mastiffs snapped. The crocodile Sterling sent over to replace Vito rolled over in his hammock, “Sterlin’ don’t hate no one, why would he be tryin’ to do this for everyone if he did?” Fang hissed thirdly. 

    “What he’s doin’ is only helping carnivores! No herbivore enjoys watchin’ harvests, no herbivore would support real meat bein’ served in restaurants, and no herbivore will live happily in this stupid contry he’s tryin’ to found!” Tanner snapped. 

    “Maybe if you herbivores weren’t so skittish for no reason, he wouldn’t have to. Yaknow, all the countries that hadn’t outlawed meat never even used the isle to begin with, what's that tell ya?” Fang growled. 

    “Yeah, all them countries are ruled by carnivores, or a government that’s too controlling.” 

    “Can all of you shut the hell up? No one cares about this but you, you damn horse.” another tired voice said, “Y’all are bickerin’ like a bunch o’ teenage girls, I’m surprised one o’ you ain’t picked the other up by the pigtails and thrown her overboard already.” 

    “Who’s that? Stone?” Tanner hissed. 

    “Naw,” the canidae sat up. 

    “Railroad?” Springer exclaimed, ears erect. The coyote smirked at him, then glanced back at the two arguing.

    “Now, both o’ y’all shut the hell up. Got a long, boring day at sea ahead of us, and I’d rather spend it asleep.” he growled, laying back down. Tanner sat back on his hammock and Fang rolled over, facing away from them. 

    “He got a weird thing ‘bout cats, though. Can we all agree on that?” Tanner started. 

    “Sure, sure.” Fang said. 

    “Whaddya mean?” Springer asked.

    “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed,” Cartridge’s voice said, “Your mate Wilson and his sister are servals, his most trusted Mastiff is a mountain lion, he just adopted a snow leopard as a daughter, and he replaced Doc with a caracal. They’re all cats, small cats.” the roo said. 

    “I wouldn’t say a snow leopard is small.” Fang said. 

    “Compared to a lion?” 

    “…True, but-” 

    “Fang’s right. There’s only five true big cats, and a snow leopard is one of them.” Railroad said. 

“But Cartridge is right. They’re all cats.” Tanner added. 

“It’s probably unrelated…” Fang muttered. 

“Yeah, if y’r stupid.” Tanner hissed. 

“So what’s your point, Envar? They’re all cats, so what?” Railroad growled. 

“First of all, my name is Tanner. Second-” 

“If your names Tanner, then why we did we start callin’ you Envar?” Fang bellowed. 

“Hell if I know. Sterlin’ just started-” 

“Exactly. Sterling said your name was Envar, so that’s what we call you. Wanna change it? Take it up with Sterling.” 

“I did take it up with Sterling. He-” 

“Didn’t go well, did it? Even that damned fox called you Envar, remember?” 

“‘Envar’ ain’t even a word…” 

“Yeah, dipshit, it’s an acronym. You should know that.”

“I do!” 

"An acronym? Fr what?" Springer asked.

"Entity Night Vision And Radar."

“How about we all shut the hell up and stop arguing, and go get some bloody breakfast?” Cartridge shouted, slamming his fist on the wall. Everyone turned to him, then Tanner stood and stepped out the door. Railroad laid back down and Fang followed Tanner outside. 

“Crikey…” Carriage breathed, shaking his head, “I’ve never heard two sober men argue like that.” 

“That horse has been causin’ a helluva lotta problems lately. Sterling’s almost as his wits end with him.” Railroad said. 

“Doin’ what?” Springer asked. 

“I’m not sure, but Stone’s been bitchin’ about it all week.” he hissed. 

“Where did you go?” Springer asked sharply. 

“Whaddya mean?” the coyote replied. 

“You’re usually at the bar in the building, where’d you go?” 

“Got upgraded. Got moved. Why?” 

“I dunno… just found it odd.” 

“Aw, were you worried about me?” Railroad teased. 

“No.” The golden hare muttered. 

“What could a low-life like you do t’ get upgraded?” Cartridge hissed. 

“I followed orders. Maybe if you did that, you’d be a Mastiff by now, too.” he remarked. 

“Mastiff, huh? What’s it like on the inside?” the roo asked. 

“Not much different, we all just eat together. We’re served by some hen, I think she came with us on Sterling’s boat.” he said, hands behind his head. Springer glanced downward, then at the door. 

“We should get some breakfast before it all goes…” He said to Cartridge. 

“Yeah, not like there's much anyway.” the kangaroo replied, standing up and stretching his back and legs, then turned to the coyote, “What about you?” 

“Me? I have some from last night stashed somewhere. I’ll eat that.” Railroad said, keeping his eyes closed. Cartridge rolled his eyes as he climbed the stairs, Springer following him. 

“What a lazy dog…” the kangaroo shook his head as he shut the door. Springer giggled, glancing around the deck. 

“You find a place to sit, I’ll get us some breakfast.” Cartridge said. 

“Okay.” the golden hare replied as they split off. He spotted some empty crates and took a seat, staring at the view of the water. He leaned over the railing and sighed. The water slapped against the hull of the ship, a light breeze blowing through his fur, it was nice and calm. This was what he wanted; serenity. Just the sound of the water and the wind, though he knew it’d be short-lived. 

“Oi,” some voice called from below him. Springer looked down, a fleshy, gray face poking out of the water. 

“Wha’s a lad gotta do t’e get some food down he’er? De pods’ starvin’!” he called. 

“H-Hello! Are… are you a dolphin?” Springer asked. 

“Naw, Big Ears, I’m a bloody narwhal! Wha’s it look like?” he remarked, just as tons of scrap foods were dumped in the ocean. 

“Sorry, Jermy!” One of the pirates called, “We’re carrin’ a bit more these days, got a li’l busy.” a lemur called. 

“So I heard.” The dolphin called. 

“How far we be’ from the shore?” the lemur asked him. 

“‘Bout 200 miles. Should get t’ere by nightfall.” he replied, then dove back under the water. Springer leaned his head on his hand, gazing at the sea below him with a smile. 

“So, what does their world look like?” he asked the lemur. 

“Me? Oh, like ours, but made outta clay and coral. I never seen one up close, but Baybeard has. Said it’s t’e most beautiful t’ing he ever did see.” he said.

“Yeah? What’s your name?” Springer asked. 

“Bandit.” 

“I’m Springer.” he shook his hand. 

“Them dolphins r’ our sonar. Tell us where some ships ‘r, good or bad.” 

“Hm.” he nodded and sat back down. Bandit was called away by some other pirates and left Springer by himself to stare into the horizon. Gave him a good view of the waters, and the other ships in the distance. He’d always wanted to visit the underwater world, even though it was only for a few hours at a time. Not all of it was available to tourists, but the parts that were handed out oxygen tanks and were led by tour guides, and they were rather expensive. 

“Whatcha’ lookin’ at?” Cartridge said, sitting down on the crate next to him and handing him his plate. 

“Nothin’. Just the water.” he replied calmly. 

“Yeah, it’s nice, init?” the roo said, facing the sea. 

“Yeah. Shame it can’t last longer…” Springer sighed, poking at his breakfast, same as his dinner was. Better than meat. He scooped some of the beans onto the lettuce leaf and ate it like chips and salsa, but the textures didn’t clash well. Oh well, what was he supposed to do? Starve? 

“Have you ever seen the ocean cities?” The hare asked. 

“No. No interest in it, don’t like gettin’ wet.” Cartridge replied. 

“I’ve always wanted to go see it. I heard it’s beautiful.” 

“I heard it’s expensive.” the kangaroo remarked. 

“Yeah…” he hung his head a little, continuing to eat. 

“Well, ya know, if you ever go, take pictures. Tell me what it was like.” 

“Yeah, of course.”