Wilson stirred on the cot, a voice calling out to him, echoing through his head. 

“Wake up. Wake up!” he groaned, his eyes fluttering open, meeting Crosshatch’s bright orange eyes mere inches away from his fuchsia ones. 

“Hey! Wake up, ya sorry sack o’ spots!” Crosshatch snapped, Wilson yelped, shooting up to where he was sitting, leaning on his hands. 

“Here, eat. Today, we raid the junkyard.” the fox chriped, tossing the serval another chunk of stale bread.

“Well, c’mon. I ain’t gettin’ any less in debt while ya sittin’ there.” he nagged, Wilson’s brain slowly unfogging as he woke up. The sun wasn’t even up yet, the sky was still a deep purple. Yet, his now two new roommates were very much awake. It made sense, both species were active this time of night, but servals preferred the daytime. Before he could even think about taking a bite of his bread, the other two were bugging him to get moving, and making their way out the door. He processed what just happened, then shoved the bread into his mouth and followed them. 

---

A sense of deja vu washed over the serval as he dug through the junk once again. He considered just running off, but he thought he should wait until he actually had somewhere else to go first. Springer had located and recovered their haul from yesterday, Crosshatch held onto it as he dipped behind a pile to dig around. 

Wilson was doing quite well, actually. He found more glass objects, some lightbulbs that might work, and he just spotted a prostatic hooved arm. He poked it with a metal rod a few times, and after no response from it, he grabbed it. He had to set his bag down and pull, using his weight to try and dislodge it. Springer poked his head around to see what all the fuss was about, and upon seeing it, he gripped Wilson’s waist and pulled. A loud buzz hissed as the arm whipped around and “grabbed” Wilson’s wrist, several thin, spider-like legs with graspers on the ends emerging from the junk and gripping around Springer’s left leg and the serval’s arm. 

The junk pile came to life, pieces falling off and revealing an anthropomorphic figure with a horse-like face, but half of it was metal with green blinking lights on it. Two hooves clopped onto the pavement, one a real horse hoof, the other a mechanical one. Half of the thing’s body was robotic, the letters E.N.V.A.R engraved on its clavicle. Its left eye resembled a camera lense, zooming in and out on both of their faces. He narrowed his normal eye, snorting, his ears pinned backwards. 

“You must be those trespassers I heard ‘bout. Sterling’ll have fun with you two.” he said with a grin, in a deep, somehow more southern voice, a mechanical echo nipping through, “Now where’s your boss?”

“Boys!” Crosshatch shouted, being held up by his shirt, the mountain lion from yesterday carrying him. 

“Well, Mac. Long time no see.” the horse chuffed, seizing Wilson’s wrist with a spider leg that spun from his back. 

“Envar! Let us go, we’re friends.” the fox begged.

“Friends?” the stallion chuckled, more guards now circling the area, “He thinks we’re still friends. Even after everything he’s done…” Springer tried to unwrap the fingers around his ankles, but all they did was constrict further, “you ruined me, you dragged me here along with you, then you left me to be TORN APART BY DOGS.” 

“I-I thought you were right behind me, I swear!” Crosshatch pleaded, his accent interestingly had vanished. Envar snorted in disgust, then grabbed the fox’s shirt collar and pulled him very close. 

“You will finally get what you deserve. I’ve waited for this moment for years.” he snarled, then cracked a smile and dropped him. A dust cloud formed as he hit the ground, Axle and a few other guards whipping out leather handcuffs and seized all of them. The stallion sounded like he was the same age as Crosshatch, his voice a little - dare I say - hoarse.

“Get moving.” Envar ordered, kicking Crosshatch in the side and picking him up, forcing him to walk along the sidewalk. His spider legs released the younger boys and retracted into his back, and they were shoved to the same direction as the others. The group of guards split into two groups, half of them leading, half of them bringing up the back. 

“Sterling has a message for you, and besides, you still owe him a few thousand.” Envar said, keeping his back turned. 

“Naw! I paid at least half of-”

“Half of ten grand is five grand, and your deadline was a few weeks ago. We’ve been tracking you since. We didn’t really think you’d be dumb enough to come back, but after Axle’s report, I knew just how to ambush you.” the horse said triumphantly. Really must’ve liked to hear himself talk. Springer’s brows frowned as he slowly stepped closer to Crosshatch.

“You owed them money?!” he whispered angrily.

“I told y’all I had debt.” he replied, his accent conveniently coming back.

“You said you needed it for food.” the hare scolded.

“Okay… I lied.”

“SHUT UP!” Envar spun around and his fake hoof connected with Crosshatch’s face perfectly, sending him flying a good six feet back. His hat flew off his head, landing perfectly at the feet of one of the guards. The fox whimpered, blood dribbling from his nose. The sound of hooves coming closer triggered the fight or flight response, but his body refused to move. 

“You really are the worst, you know that? You dragged these poor bastards into your hellhole of a life by lying?” Envar growled, but Crosshatch’s ears were ringing too loud for him to hear clearly. The horse knelt down beside him, picking his head up by the ear with one of his gabby things and pulling the fox’s head close to his mouth.

“I will be there when The Reminder cuts your throat~” he hissed, then picked him up again and made him stand, then dragged him by the arm when he couldn’t stay up for more than a few seconds and collapsed. Envar stopped by the hat, kneeling to pick it up.

“Cute hat.” he remarked sarcastically, handing it to Axle, who held it for the duration of the walk up to the tallest building in the area. Wilson winced at the fox’s bloodied snout. He kept quiet, ears flattened against his head and tail puffed up subtably. He knew he should have run, and Springer probably would have followed him as well. Now there was a good chance they were all gonna die, and no one would even notice. 

The area they headed to had buildings that got bigger and bigger as they went, all of them being surrounded by chain-link fencing, the tallest one being where they turned. Five or six large canines leaped up onto the fence from nowhere, all nearly naked, barking harshly, and had feral eyes. Wilson leaped in the opposite direction, feeling the fur on his back and tail standing up fully, teeth bared instinctively. Envar pushed open the gate and let everyone in the property line, another fence keeping the dogs at bay as they entered the building. He took the lead again, pushing open the metal doors to the skyscraper, showing a staircase that led all the way up. His hooves clanked on the metal stairs as they started their way up. A musty, humid soil smell hit Wilson’s nose and he curled up his lip, the flehmen response being triggered. 

As they passed the few people going up and down the stairs, Envar gazed at them confidently, Wilson hearing them murmur and whisper about either Crosshatch or questioning who he and Springer were. At the third or fourth to last floor, they turned off into a hallway, the serval’s legs burning from the climb. The smell was worse up here, the darkness heightening his sense of smell. Oil lamps lined the ceiling, illuminating the corridor in a both horrifying and comforting soft orange light. 

They came to a stop at a door towards the end of the corridor, it had one of those slots in it that opened up and you could see inside. Envar clopped his hoof on the door, hushed whispers being picked up by Wilson’s large ears from behind it, and the slot snapped open. 

“He's busy.” a female voice snapped, then slammed the slot shut. 

“It’s important.” Envar called.

“So is what he’s doing! Go away!” 

“I found Mac~” he purred. There was a puse, then more whispering, then the door opened and allowed Envar, Axle, and a few guards in the room. The rest of the guards dispersed, some standing outside the door and waited. The door was shut, Crosshatch, Springer, and Wilson were forced against the wall and patted down, shirts removed, and handcuffs double checked. There were others in the room, species unclear due to the windows letting in more light and silhouettes of cats, dogs, and… reptiles? WIlson wasn’t sure what exactly he was holding eye contact with, but he could tell that everyone in the room aside from Envar and Springer was a carnivore. The female voice who let them in belonged to a bengal tigress, who scowled at Crosshatch. Their eyes stared at them as they muttered, some of the words and sentences being in different languages from all around the world, but most in European languages. 

They were practically tossed to the middle of the room, forced onto their knees and had their own guard stand behind them, an African lion standing behind Wilson, a silver wolf standing behind Springer, and a huge saltwater crocodile standing behind Crosshatch. Wilson felt the lion’s eyes on the back of his head, then felt them move down his back, likely examining his odd markings. 

“P-Please, I just need another month- week! Anything-” 

“You’ve had three months already.” Envar interrupted the crossfox, “When you failed that, you got away. Why didn’t you just stay away? You knew he would’ve killed you.” The look in the horse’s eyes seemed to plead with the fox, but he only looked away, “But that doesn’t matter now. You’re here. Convenient timing, old friend, The Reminder ceremony is tonight.” 

“What the hell is The Reminder? Why do you keep bringin’ that up?” the fox questioned, Envar chuckled.

“You’ll see. You’ll become something much greater than what you are, and the only useful thing you will ever be again.” he said, turning and leaving the room. His tone made the serval uneasy, the smile he had on his face made him sick. 

“Why did you really come here, fox?” the mountain lion snapped, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. 

“Wha- I… I thought we could make amends.” Crosshatch came up with, everyone else in the room started chuckling. 

“Make amends? You think we’re gonna forget what you did? Your debt is not why Selvester hates you, you took something very dear to him-” 

“That’s why we’re here!” Wilson blterted without thinking, then immediately bit his tongue. Everyone turned their heads to him, Axle cocked an eyebrow. 

“Sorry?” he asked.

“We…uh.” the serval stammered, why did he say that? 

“We… heard about your fude, ironically from him, and decided to bring him to you.” The muttering from the others in the room had stopped, everyone listening very carefully. He could see both Springer and Crosshatch giving him a weird look, but he ignored them, “We decided to last night, after we almost got caught. I can even tell you where his camp is.” Wilson squeaked, the knot in his stomach grew tighter and his throat dried out with every word out of his mouth. Axle stepped over to him and knelt down, his head was much larger than Wilson’s, who’s skull could probably fit in his jaws. 

“Why?” the mountain lion asked sternly. 

“A-As an offering. We were hoping you’d let us go. A peace offering…?” the small cat breathed, Axle chuffed. 

“A peace offering? Really?” the big cat hissed, the rest of the room muttering into a hushed chuckle. Wilson cracked a small smile, not sure if this was a good thing or not. 

“A peace offering’ he says, why would you think-”

“Enough.” a deep, british voice growled, the room breaking into a still, dead silence. Any trace of a smile on Axle’s face vanished and his eyes widened, even looking a little pale. The air was still and cold, Wilson saw two silver orbs in the darkness behind Axle, his fur standing up once he realized those were eyes. The clack of a cane tapped the ground as the owner of those bright white eyes stepped forwards, his face slowly coming into the light of the windows. A face so scarred and worn that the species was unclear, approached them. The serval really had to focus on him for it to click that he was a brown hare. He wore a fancy, black tux coat and dress pants, walked with a cane that had an ornament of a hare on all-fours running, and a massive knife hanging from his belt. 

“What is the meaning of all this?” The brown hare demanded, his proper accent and snarl revealing his odd teeth. Axle slowly turned to face him, everyone in the room lowered their heads, including the mountain lion. 

“Sir, these miscreants were caught by the junkyard. The spotted one there said that he knew you were out for Mac’s head and brought him here as a… a peace offering.” he said, the brown hare facing Wilson, then shot Axle a glare. A shadow fell on the brown hare’s face, not showing much more than his silver eyes. 

“The spotted one is a serval, you moron.” he tapped the lion on the head with his cane, “Similar coat as a cheetah, but far too small…” he thought aloud, circling the trio as the carnivores that stood behind them took a few steps back. The occasional tap of his cane was defining in the otherwise silent room, the pale eyes traced over every inch of the trio. 

“I’d like to speak with the two of them individually, starting with…you.” he said, poking Wilson’s back firmly with his cane, “Take this… insult to the canine community to the Andrel Cells.” he hit Crosshatch on the head with the end of his cane, hard, stepping back in front of them. Crosshatch whined and someone immediately picked him up by the neck with one of those catching rods, and pushed him out the door. Another person, the maned lion, grabbed Wilson by the scruff and dragged him to a side room, Wilson assuming that's where the hare was hiding before. The lion stood by the door, waiting for the brown hare to enter and settle first. Once he did, the big cat lifted and tossed the serval into the room and slammed the door shut. Wilson whimpered, using the rough cement brick wall to help himself up. He looked up out of the corners of his eyes and his irises met the silver ones of the brown hare, sitting patiently at his desk, hands folded, and a snarl of a smile smeared on his face. 

“You’ve got wings,” he purred, “like a l’il dove.”