Wilson's eyes fluttered open. He took a deep breath and shifted in his sleepy haze, pulling the covers tightly over his body. After a moment of rest, he turned to lay on his other side, being met with Sterling's brown, furry face just over a foot away from his. He stiffened, then relaxed as he remembered he had partially moved in with Sylvaster just a few days ago. Nothing was happening between them, Sterling just wanted someone to share his space with, but people stared and muttered amongst themselves every time they saw either Sterling with him or just Wilson. At least he was protected, Sylvester was feared. He said that's why everyone does their job here instead of just doing their own thing. That, and the fact they get meat, which Wilson now fully carnivore diet since he was a cat.

He sat up, brow furrowed, and took his clothes and got dressed in the bathroom. He immerged, Sterling now also sitting up and getting dressed right in the middle of the room. Wilson froze, lips parted in a spooked frown at the muscular figure of the brown hare with his back turned, long and fluffy tail covering anything from view. The serval averted his gaze to the scars on his back that he hadn't noticed before. Looking like claw marks, they were similar to Wilson's "wings'', but Sterling's were lopsided. He also had two scars that crossed into a big "X" on his thigh.

Wilson blinked, then quietly turned to go back into the bathroom and give him a little privacy, but he was stopped.

"Are you just going to stand there and watch, or are you going to say something?" Sylvester snarled, keeping his back turned as he pulled up his boxers.

"I-I... I'm sorry. I was just-" Wilson stammered.

"Oh, hush. You're not hurting anyone. We're both male, aren't we?" Sylvester said, putting on his jeans and turning to face the serval. The fur on his stomach was the same creamy coffee color as his nose and inner ears, also being marked with a scar running across his chest, and a smaller one on his right waist about the length of his hand. They were all jagged, so a blade likely wasn't the cause.

"Oh. Smile, dove. We're going to see your little friend today." Sterling cracked a smirk, then put on a gray shirt. Wilson's ears stood up.

"We are?"

"Yes. I promised, didn't I?" The hare picked up his jacket, putting it on and zipping it up, a small piece of fur hanging from the zipper that Wilson was sure wasn't there before. But, so what? He was a feared leader, it made sense if he wore a trophy as a warning. Besides, that probably wasn't real, right?

"Well? Let's go." Sterling said, allowing him out the door first. Wilson smiled as he passed him, hopping down the stairs while Sterling whispered something to a guard, who nodded, then followed the serval.

---

Springer snored softly, laying on his back with his mouth ajar. His shoulder was shaken by the roo he shared a room with, his ears twitching at mumbled words. He groaned, opening his eyes to meet Cartridge's nose inches away from his own. They stared awkwardly for a moment before Cartridge spoke.

"Skinner's here ta see you, mate."

"What?! Why?" Springer sat up, now wide awake.

"I dunno. He's got a bloke with 'em, says he knows you." He stood up, Springer looked at the clock.

"Damnit, I'm late to feed the dogs. Why didn't you wake me for breakfast?"

"Wha- I tried, but you were out! I almost thought you were dead!" He snapped as the golden hare sprung out of bed and got dressed in semi-presentable clothes.

"Did breakfast come at least?"

"Yeah, I warmed it up for ya."

"Aw, thanks." Springer pushed open the door and froze, spotting Sterling and almost missing Wilson completely.

"Oh my god..." He muttered, Wilson stood up and they embraced each other.

"You two go chat in there, we'll be out here. Talking." Sterling said, looking Cartridge in the eyes, making the fur on the back of his neck stand up, "Don't be too long, we've all got jobs to tend to." he continued. Springer took Wilson into the bedroom, and sat him on the bed so they could catch up.

"It's so good to see you!" Wilson exclaimed.

"You have no idea." Springer said, hugging him again.

"Wow, you got strong." The serval stated.

"Yeah, my job's pretty heavy."

"You look good tho- what happened to your eye? You look exhausted."

"Uh, it's a long story, and I am... Where have you been?" Springer pulled away, holding Wilson's shoulders.

"Uhm, I've actually been with Sterling. He said it got lonely, so he asked me to... stay with him." Wilson swallowed.

"Oh. So, you're sle-"

"NO! No. He just wanted some company."

"Oh. So, you share a room?" He asked, Wilson nodded. The shy, anxious, and insomniatic serval who could barely ask for a spare pencil was sleeping in the same space as that... monster. And he looked well-rested, too.

"You sleep better next to him than in our dorm?" Springer questioned, more than a little offended.

"You and I never shared a bed. It's... different. Sharing a bed with someone. I-I don't know how to explain it."

"Do you, like, cuddle?"

"Well, he can be clingy- can we not talk about this? And who's the kangaroo?" Wilson rushed his words.

"That's Cartridge. He's my roommate."

"'Cartridge'? What the hell kinda name is cartridge?" The serval hissed, Springer shrugged.

"Are you gonna eat ya breakfast?" The very person they were talking about called from the other room.

"You haven't eaten yet?" Wilson asked.

"No, I just woke up!"

"Well, come on. We'll have plenty of time to talk, maybe later? And Sylvester's right, we have jobs to do." he stood up. Springer followed, slowly. Sterling's silver eyes shined as Wilson entered the room, but the glimmer ceased as Springer entered. The jackrabbit sat across from him by his plate, eating the sausages first. This time, he had eggs as well, so maybe Sterling was starting to wean him.

"You look like you're getting into shape." Sylvester commented on Springer's short sleeves.

"Oh, yeah. Those crates r' heavy."

"Yes, those dogs do eat a lot, don't they? Good to see you're doing your job. Aren't you going to introduce your friends?" Sterling said. Springer swallowed prematurely, then waved Cartridge over.

"Cartridge, this is Wilson."

"Ah, he's the one you told me about. Gonna be honest, I thought a serval was a kind of weasel." He laughed, Sterling also chuckled and Wilson awkwardly smiled.

"Well, I'm afraid we gotta cut this visit a bit short, I'm sure you've got things to do." Sterling stood, followed by Wilson and Springer, who hadn't finished his plate yet. Sylvester let himself out while Springer followed him, Cartridge hanging back and watching them all descend the stairs. Springer watched them carefully as they left the building, being stopped by none other than Railroad.

"So, little bunny's got a visitor?" he purred.

"I don't have time for you right now." Springer said, grunting and trying to pass him, but the coyote wouldn't let him go.

"Oh, no? What'd Skinner tell ya, huh?" he pired, grabbing him by the collar and pinning him to the wall, "Listen here, boy. One o' dem visits ain't gonna be so good for you. Skinner's just itchin' for an excuse t' kill you, one little slip up could turn you from a livin', breathin', hoppin' lil bunny to someone's meal." He leaned forward, his lips less than an inch away from Springer's ear, "And I'll be the one who eats you." he said in a heavy breath, then pushed him away, cackling. Springer stood there for a moment, fur on his back and neck standing up. With tense shoulders, he exited the building with hasty and stiff steps, ears pinned and breathing uneven. He couldn't remember why he came out, until he spotted Sterling leading Wilson back into the tall building. Sylvester had also noticed him and shot him a mien that seemed to confirm what Railroad had said. Springer's blood chilled as the white eyes of the brown hare made contact with his lime-green ones, a small noise escaped his throat and he turned to go back inside. He pushed right past Railroad and power walked up the stairs. He let himself in his room and leaned on the door as it closed, Cartridge perking up at the sound.

"Hey." He said.

"H-Hey." Springer muttered, Cartridge looked back at the TV. The hare sat on the arm of the couch, ears quivering a little.

"Are you okay?" Cartridge asked, Springer's head shook.

"There's somethin' freaky 'bout Sterling. The way he looked at me... I swear those eyes were predatory." He murmured. Cartridge hummed, then glanced over his shoulder.

"Well, he ain't exactly an herbivore." The room said, "That was fast. Did they forget ta fill the creates?" He asked.

"Wha...? Oh, shi- dammit, the dogs!" Springer cried, standing back up, "I gotta go." he whimpered.

"Do ya want me ta-" Cartridge started, but the hare had shut the door behind him before he could finish, "...come with you." he sighed.

--

"Dammit, Springer! What the hell is wrong with you?" The little voice echoed through Springer's head. He speed-walked with the crate bouncing off his legs with each step until he finally reached the platform. The dogs were out and waiting for their food, a few of them growled at him as he set it on the deck.

"I know! I'm late, I'm sorry! Here." he pulled the lever, allowing the now cold food to fall into the pen. Being dogs, they didn't really seem to care that it was cold, just that it was there. Springer picked up the empty crate and dropped it under the duct, grabbing the full one and repeating the same process over again, stopping to breathe once he remembered there were sixteen total platforms. He set it down and just dragged it across the street.

---

As night fell over the isle, Sylvester and his Mastiffs loaded the bus. Yet another expansion opportunity has surfaced, and unlike usual, this leader has reached out to Sterling. Usually he targets his neighbors for their land, but this group of only canine blood had made the first move. This dog-only playhouse was known for weapon smithing, jewelry making, and trafficking members of the feline family, and all of those things were something of interest to Sterling and to White Fang as a society. One massive pack of drooling morons, if this went to plan, White Fang would more than double in population. He asked around, took a survey of all the canines members of his society to see what would sell it the best, and they all said meat and a few berries from the garden would be plenty, so that's what he packed. If there's one thing you can rely on, it's that dogs love food.

They neared the stop and everyone flooded out of the bus, splitting up like they had before. Skinner, being accompanied by Envar and Axle, and Mayhem prepping her ambush. As they rounded the corner, the screech of a knife blade being dragged across a sharpening stone pierced the still night air. The white wolf sat on the wall, scowling on his face as he sharpened his small folding knife, seemingly alone. But, since Sterling had a keener sense of smell than others in his species, he knew right away that the alone wolf was like a silent lie. He also knew that if he could smell the hidden canines, the white wolf would probably smell his backup as well. Fortunately, Mayhem didn't have a scent.

"Scarface. Pleasure to finally meet you." Skinner purred, lip curled up at the cliche name. Scarface hopped off his perch, folding the knife and putting it away as he neared the brown hare. He stopped about ten paces away, sniffing the air around him before he stepped any closer.

"You got the blood?" he asked, his voice a bit higher pitched than Skinner was expecting. He sounded almost like a child.

"Only if you have mine."

"It's around back. Come," he waved for him to follow, but neither Sterling nor Envar moved.

"No, bring it to me." Skinner ordered, assuming he wasn't aware he knew of Scarface's hidden army. The white wolf inhaled, clenching his jaw.

"It's too big," he argued, "too heavy." Skinner sighed and shot Axle a look. Whatever he was trying to do, he wasn't doing it right.

"Envar, go with the nice wolf. I'm sure you'll be strong enough to carry it." he ordered, his tone lowered into a purr. The stallion stepped forward, a grimace forming on Scarface's expression. Envar snorted as he passed the wolf, leading him around a corner. Skinner and Axle stood in silence, Sterling's herbivor instincts telling him he was being watched. He already knew that, of course, but he still placed a hand on the handle of his knife. He anticipated an ambush, but with every passing second that fear only got stronger. And still, his poker face stood strong, only moving his ears to the direction of a noise to better pick it up.

Envar and Scarface came back, Envar hauling a massive crate with ropes over his shoulders. The feeling of eyes on Sterling's back subsided as the stallion dragged the crate to a spot right next to him. Skinner peeked inside one of the air holes and smiled.

"Perfect," he purred, "gorgeous furs."

"I want one of them." Scarface said abruptly. Skinner turned to him, displeased by his disrespect, but it soon wouldn't matter.

"Fine. Which?"

"I'll see 'em all tanned and done, then I'll decide." He said, "where's your end?"

"Right, Axle?" he ordered, the mountain lion opening the rawhide sack and removing the isolated pack like before, Scarface's ears perked.

"What is that?"

"It's for later, we'll discuss in a minute." Skinner snapped, Axle tossing the sack at the wolf's feet. Stupidly, he knelt down to grab it immediately, then opened it. He sniffed the contents before he stuck his hand in, that being the only smart thing he's done so far, then pulled out some furs. Rabbit, sable, mink, and stoat, all small animals known for their plush fur. The young wolf smiled, petting each of them and his tail wagging like an idiot.

"Very nice," he said, "so soft."

"Yes, they are. Tell me, Scarface," Skinner hissed, "how does your pack work?"

"Whatever Alfa says, goes." he replied, not paying close attention.

"And you're Alfa, I presume?"

"Yes, yes."

"And there's punishment for disobeying Alfa?"

"Banishment, death, whatever."

"I've got a proposition for you," Sterling and Axle exchanged smirks, "you and I merge territories, my people are allowed to roam your turf as are yours. If the other's associate gets in trouble on the other's territory, they can deal with them as they wish." Scarface looked at him, tucking the furs under his arm.

"What's in it for me?" he asked.

"This," Sterling opened the pack and tossed him a chunk of red thing, the wolf catching it, dropping the furs, and once again sniffing it before opening it. Once he understood what it was, he tore it open and gobbled up the piece of meat without even chewing.

"You join me, and there will be plenty more where that came fr-"

"Yes! Yes, I agree!"

"Good! Sign this, please." he whipped out the contact, "One conision; if one of us should die, the other has full reign of both territories-"

"Yeah, whatever." Scarface snapped, taking the pen and signing.

"Exilent." Skinner purred, Axle tossing the rest of the meat to the wolf. Scarface whistled, loudly, and a dozen or so other canines emerged from the darkness. Sterling smiled widely, scanning the pretty furs running around and begging for a piece. He leaned to Axle.

"Take out the Alfa." he whispered, Axle nodding and getting down on all-fours and stalking like he was watching a meek little deer. While he prepared for attack, Sylvester gave the silent single for the rest of the Mastiffs to close in. Conveniently, most of Sterling's side was made up of cats, aside from Envar, Mayhem, and a few other wolves and foxes. You know, the smart canines.

"Try not to tear up the hides too badly." he whispered to Mayhem as she also stalked. Before Sylvester could blink, the pack was surrounded and tackled, all being too distracted by the food. Screeches, howls, and cries filled the damp night air as bodies of the canines hit the ground. Sobbing from the crate caught Sterling's attention, so he looked back in the peephole.

"Shhhhh, it's okay. I'll make sure you're all taken care of, I promise you." he hushed them.

Within merely minutes of the attack beginning, it was over. The bodies of Scarface and his crew dragged off, Sterling examining them all carefully, pleased with how few cuts there were. He was also pleased by how few injuries his side sustained.

"Good work, Mastiffs. Get the create. Be careful, they're frightened enough."

"Sir,"

"Hm?" Sterling asked, gasping quietly as Scarface was still alive and being held up by Axle, "Oh. How unfortunate." he knelt down to him.

"Answer me this; how old are you?" he asked.

"...e-eighteen." the wolf weezed.

"Young. Wow, no wonder you were so... oblivious. Should've been paying attention." he smiled, nodding at Axle, who promptly snapped his neck.

"Load him up, let's get the hell outta here." Sterling ordered, everyone nodding and Envar hauling the crate again, now assisted by a few wolves.

"Boys, a minute," he called over the canines, who responded and left Envar, who rolled his eyes, "You were all very good tonight. I know, as fellow members of the canine family, that was difficult."

"No, sir. We made an oath to follow you." one said.

"You've saved our lives by taking us in, and we owe it to you. We could have ended up just like them." another followed up, they all nodded.

"I'm glad you feel that way. Now get on the bus, we shall feast tomorrow." he smiled.

"Yes, sir." they said collectively, then all boarded the bus.

"Mr. Sterling?" Mayhem squeaked from behind him. He turned, smile vanishing as he flinched. The faux fur around her face has been torne, exposing the metal teeth and one red lens eye. She was sitting with all six limbs on the ground, like a dragon resting.

"Oh, dear." he said, holding his heart tightly.

"I know, I'm ugly." Mayhem said sadly, turning so the exposed half of her face was out of Sterling's view.

"Oh, no dear. You're a gorgeous- stunning piece of technology." he reassured her, gently gripping her arm, "Anyone would marvel at you, with or without a furry face. But if you wish, I will fix it tomorrow. It's late, let's go home." he said, the maned wolf nodding as he walked her to the bus.

---

Envar hauled the hefty crate into The Corridor, led by none other than Sterling and Axle, the crate barely fitting through the doorway of the rodent room. He let out an exasperated sigh, Sylvester handing him a water bottle.

"Alright, let's have a look at them." Sterling said, Envar nodded, closed and locked the door, and pried off the lid to the crate. The cats poked their heads up cautiously, some muttering something in a forgen language.

"Alright, everyone out." Envar kicked his crate and most of them scattered out, aside from a snow leopard, who stayed curled up in a little ball, sobbing quietly. All common big cats, all naked and some seemingly feral. Most of them have fur mutations like the king cheetah mutation, albino servals, and a melanistic lynx. Then there were a few clouded leopards and of course, the snow leopard. Sterling peeked in the crate at her, smiling when she looked up.

"That one," he said, "I want her in the Admal building. And give her some clothes, the poor dear. Frightened out of her mind."

"How do you know she's not feral?" Envar asked.

"She's not. She's crying, she's not feral. Meet me by the entrance to the Admal building." he ordered Envar, who nodded and put the lid to the crate back on and dragged her out.

"Do you think you can handle tagging on your own?" he asked Axle.

"Yes, sir. No lions, no tigers, not even a jaguar. I'll be fine, sir."

"Good. If you do need it, tell the Phantoms who guard this place to help you. If they don't, kill them."

"I don't think that'll be necessary, sir."

"Alright. Goodnight, Axle."

"Goodnight, sir"