Maybe there was one more chance. One more chance to leave like Springer and Wilson had. They offered, but Vito wasn’t sure if he could really take the chance. And maybe they changed their minds about letting him come with, but he did let Springer go. Maybe they’d let him come with them. He’d be back on the streets, but at least this time, he wouldn’t be alone. And, he wouldn’t have to kill people. But, he’d have to find them first, and he couldn’t do that alone. Sterling must have caught onto him yesterday, he really could read minds. Now, he just had to get through breakfast. 

He entered the dining room, the smell of cooking meat full in the air. It was nice, but the faces around the table were far from it. They stared at him, not scowling or anything, just staring at him like he had three eyes or something, which was almost worse. At least with a scowl, he’d be able to tell what they were thinking. He cracked a small smile at them, and they moved out of his way to the table, a chair being empty for him with his name on a card. A chair right next to Sterling’s grinning face. 

“Lovely for you to join us, Vito.” he purred, “Sit down, love.” Vito pulled out the chair and sat down, cracking a weak smile at him. He hadn’t exactly gotten much sleep last night, the empty room made him uneasy, and the sound of the single gunshot echoed through his subconscious mind. He had woken up to that sound in a cold sweat twice that night, Sterling calling him a murderer made his throat tighten up, nearly to the point where he couldn’t breathe. The dining room filled with the other Mastiffs, all taking a seat and chattering to each other. 

“First day as a real Mastiff,” Sterling said sharply, “I hope you enjoy our breakfast. By the way, you’ll be moved to your own room soon, it’s a privilege only the higher roles get to have. How’s that sound?” he chirped.

“Uhm, cool. Sounds nice…” he replied. The hen in charge of the meals strolled out of the kitchen with her cart, wheeled it right up to Sterling, and set his plate down in front of him. A small omelet with a slender, lean steak resting on the side of the plate. 

“Axle,” Sterling said, just as the lion went to take a bite of his breakfast, “I meant to ask you, what happened to Louis?” 

“Terminated, sir. It was much easier than I expected.” he replied. 

“Well done, did you get a signature?” 

“…no, sir. But, he did tell me that his group is rather small, I doubt it’d be difficult to take forcibly if they reject us.” 

“Alright, I suppose that works.” he said, then smiled at Cyanne.

“Thank you, dear.” Sterling said. 

“Yeah, it looks amazing-” one of the wolves said, the others exclaiming in agreement. 

“Aw shucks, guys. You know how I cook, eat up.” she said, setting a plate down in front of each hungry carnivore. Sterling calmly waited for everyone to be served, Vito being the last one to receive his plate. The smell was overwhelming, and not necessarily in a bad way. Though, something about the way the steak smelled seemed eerily familiar. He noticed that everyone watched Sterling closely, none of them touched their plates until he cut his meat and took a bite. As soon as he did, everyone picked up their utensils and began eating. Vito picked up his fork and knife and cut into the steak, a crispy crust along the sides of it added texture, and despite their presence, the inside was a nice medium rare. He took a bite, tender and full of flavor. He could taste rosemary and garlic, and the light, creamy fat of butter. It was the best meal he’s had in White Fang, and he had only taken one bite. He scooped some of the egg onto his fork, over medium, topped with a cilantro leaf and sea salt. The runny yolk of the egg spilled out and over the whites, cooked and crisped perfectly. He cut off another piece of the steak and dipped it in the egg yolk, then ate it. The yolk added the perfect richness to it, adding the only thing that could have made it better. 

“Cyanne, dear,” Sterling called as she walked by, “I apologize that you had to do this by yourself, but your assistant will be back any time now. In the meantime, I’ve told Mary that she’s back on full-time. She did show up today, right?” he asked. 

“Oh, yeah. Though, that poor woman hasn’t been the same since Caris was executed…” the hen replied. 

“Yes, well grief does that to you… as foolish as he was, he was still her husband.” Sterling took another bite, then hummed, “You know, you are the best cook this society has ever has ever seen. I usually hate horse meat, but you make it work.” he said, Vito stopped chewing and froze. Horse meat? He chewed slowly, holding his fist to his lips, really needing to convince himself to swallow it. 

“That’s sweet, sir. It’s been a pleasure working for you here.” the hen replied, “I just hope Mary comes and helps with the dishes, she went to the bathroom ten minutes ago…” 

“Ten minutes? Oh dear, someone should go check on her-” 

“I’ll go.” Vito said hastily, the little bite of meat stuffed into his cheek. He powerwalked to the restroom, then ducked into the men’s room on the same floor. He shoved open one of the stall doors and stammered, then keeled over and spat out the little half-chewed hunk of meat, then dry heaved into the toilet. He gagged, but nothing ever came up. He breathed slowly, stammering, eyes wide and vision blurry. 

“Are you okay?” a hoarse, female voice asked. He looked up at the wall, brain unfogging as he looked to the wall in front of him. 

“Yeah…” he replied, looking back at her. An elder lioness stood in the doorway, looking down at him, concerned. 

“Are you Mary? I was sent to check on you.” Vito said, standing up, leaning on the wall for support. 

“Yeah, I just needed a minute to myself…” she said, looking to the floor. 

“I heard about your… husband?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” she sighed, “I think he was having an affair with an opossum. An opossum that Sterling had ordered to be executed.” she hissed. 

“I-I’m sorry…” Vito said, hand on his chest. 

“Why did you throw up?” she asked. Vito clicked his tongue. 

“The breakfast is horse meat. I-I’m the one who executed him-” 

“It gets easier. It does, I would know. Everyone in White Fang had to do that, and everyone has had that thought enter their head; ‘Am I eating the man I killed?’. The thought breaks you at first, but then you learn to accept it. It stops bothering you after a while, once you realize that this, meat, really is the best thing that these people will ever be again.” she paused, “Sterling doesn’t work how people assume he does, he gives them a chance to change and come back into a life in society, but if they can’t be helped, then there’s no point in trying to correct them. It’d be a waste of energy, and time. That’s what Caris couldn’t see, and refused to listen to reason. So he was executed. You have to get meat from somewhere, why not get it from the useless lives that would just kill White Fang?” she explained, Vito looking her in the eyes. He finally placed the dim look in her eyes, the dim look of a defeated woman who is trying so hard to justify her husband being murdered by what Sterling has told her. His logic made sense, though, but something ate this woman alive. Either knowing her husband was executed and eaten, possibly by her, or the fact that he had an affair. Or both, and one was just the cherry on top of the other. 

“Anyway,” she sniffled, “we should get back to breakfast.” she said. 

“Yeah.” Vito replied. He stepped out of the stall, stopped by the sink to rinse his mouth out, then walked with Mary back to the dining room. 

“Hey, your name’s Vito, right?” she asked. 

“Yeah,” he replied. 

“Don’t do anything you’ll regret. Sterling will kill you if you do something stupid, so don’t. Don’t be stupid, just follow your orders, and no one will get hurt. You won’t get hurt, the people who care about you won’t get hurt, and you won’t be remembered as an idiot.” She pleaded, breaths shaky and fighting a sob, “It’s easier to just follow orders, so do that.” she hung her head. 

“I… I will.” Vito replied. 

“Good. No one will get hurt. No one had to get hurt.” She squeaked, covering her face with her hand. Vito frowned, placing his hand on her shoulder, only to have it slapped away. 

“No, I’m fine. I don’t need this, okay?” she snapped. 

“I was jus-” 

“I know, but I don’t need it. Thank you, but don’t bother.” she muttered, stepping back into the dining hall. Vito looked at her, then slowly turned away as he processed her words. 

They sat down, Mary next to Chyanne at the far head of the table, and Vito back next to Sterling. He stared at his plate for a moment, then cut into the steak again. Everyone else was nearly finished eating, but his plate only had a few bites taken out of it. He took a breath and bit the piece of meat off his fork, a smaller piece than he’d normally do. He chewed slowly, hating the fact that he loved how it tasted. Mary’s words echoed in his head, how he should just follow orders and it would get easier. It’d get easier, she wouldn’t have told him that if she didn’t mean it, right? 

He swallowed, then cut off another piece and ate it, staring blankly at the plate. Sterling watched him eat the whole thing, both a pleased grin and concerned expression on his face. 

“Do you like it?” he asked, Vito nodded, chewing a little faster, “Good. Now, we have a small idea of where the golden hare and Wilson are.” he said. 

“Oh… yeah?” Vito asked. 

“Yes, it’s not far, we’ll go right after breakfast.” he said. 

“We?”

“Yes, I’ll come with and try to deescalate the situation. And I want to make sure that hare doesn’t try anything.” Sterling hissed. 

“Oh.” 

“You haven’t witnessed a harvest yet, have you? Well, it’s important to know where your food came from.” he said. 

“Oh, don’t worry, sir. I know.” he muttered, “I, uhm, t’ink I’m finished.” he said. 

“Alright. Let’s go.” Sterling said, standing. 

“Right now?” 

“Yes, this probably won’t take long.” he said, turning to the rest of the Mastiffs, “Everyone, if you are finished with your breakfast, we will hunt down the golden hare. We haven’t got much time, the storm clouds still linger. That means there’s more rain coming. Stone, your team is on tracking, go see if you can pick up a scent.” he ordered, the silver wolf and his pack standing and leaving the room. Everyone else, go prepare. We meet outside this building in ten minutes.” he said, everyone else leaving the room as well, “That includes you, Vito. And we’re not starting the mission until you join us. We could use your climbing skills to help us scout.” Sterling said, smiling. 

“Yes, sir.” Vito stood, averting his eyes to Mary, who locked his gaze with him. She nodded slightly, and he nodded back.

---------------------------------------

Springer inhaled deeply as he awoke, expecting the warm sun on his face, but receiving a cool breeze. He stirred slightly, then looked down at the sleeping serval lying on his chest. He couldn’t recall why he lied there, until he remembered where he was. 

“Wilson,” he shook the serval awake, “Wilson, wake up. We gotta go.” he said, the small cat sighing. 

“Uh-huh…” he groggily murmured, curling up tighter. 

“Wilson, get up! We gotta go to the other side of the island.” Springer said, the serval finally looking up at him. 

“The island-? Oh, right.” he sat up, rubbing his eyes, “what time is it?” he asked. 

“I dunno. All I know is that we gotta go soon, before they find us.” he said, “Those clouds are still packing, if we can get out of here before that storm hits, it’ll be a lot less likely that they’ll find us at all.” he said. 

“Yeah. Is there anything here we need?” The small cat asked, looking around. 

“There ain’t much left here. I think we’re better off just leaving with nothin’ so we can carry more.” Springer up-turned a crate, only to find nothing. 

“Yeah. Uh, let’s go.” the small cat said. 

They walked around where they thought Sterling’s border was, careful to not enter it. Assuming they were actually outside it to begin with, but there was no sign of any life. Dead grass, dead bushes, absolutely no one else around, it was like a ghost town. The clouds above threatened them with their thunder, warning them to hide away from the soon-to-fall rain, but they didn’t have the choice to stay and hide. They had to get as far away as possible before it got unbearable, which they seemed to have another half an hour until it started to pour like it had yesterday.

“Where do we plan on going?” Wilson asked. 

“I have no idea. Tanner would know a good spot, Cartridge probably, too, but…” 

“Hey,” Wilson stopped him, standing in front of him, holding his shoulders, “They did all they could for us, and for that, they will always be remembered. But we need to keep moving forward. Don’t think of their deaths as an accident that we could have prevented, use it as motivation against Sterling.” he said.

“I just don’t see what else we can do. We know nothing about this place, and nothing about the other people who dominate this island. If Sterling finds us, he’ll kill us, but how do we know what other people will do? This is a prison, Wilson, there are some of the most horrible people who have ever walked this earth here, and we could be walkin’ into something much worse-” 

“What? Excuse me, but what happened to the optimist I got stuck with in college? What happened to the optimistic young hare who sat down and made pasta right after nearly dying in a horrible fiery explosion? Or the one who was more concerned with doing well on his test than the cops that came in to question him? Or the one who told me that even though we went to court for something we didn’t do, you told me that we would be okay. You know what you’re acting like? You’re acting like me, and I’m horrible!” he hissed. Springer looked him in the eyes, and forced a smile. 

“I did say that, didn’t I?” he muttered. 

“Yes! You did! We need that optimism more right now than we did then, so pull yourself together!” The cat punched him in the arm playfully, Springer chuckled. 

“Yeah, alright, alright.” The hare said, “Well, we better hurry. Those clouds are comin’ in fast.” he said, just as he spotted someone. A bird no doubt, perched on one of the streetlamps, watching them carefully. Wilson turned to look, then his eyes widened with fear. 

“That’s Harvey, run!” he shouted, taking off down the road, Springer following him closely. The hawk opened her wings and followed them, her shadow flying above them like you see in movies. She turned back the way she came and disappeared behind a building, but the boys kept running. 

“Who’s Harvey?” Springer asked. 

“One of Sterling’s Mastiffs!” he replied, turning the next right corner they came to. This time, Springer followed him, just as the hawk returned above them, now accompanied by two other large birds. 

“Should we split up again?” Springer called. 

“That only works if there's one of them!” the cat called back. They rounded the next corner, then stopped, seeing as it was blocked by four wolves and a bear, sprinting towards them as soon as they saw them. Their paws skidded on the asphalt as they ran, then turned to go the other way. One of the hawks screeched, flying lower due to a bolt of lightning striking one of the nearby buildings. Wilson glanced at each of the buildings they passed, they were now running back towards Crosshatch’s old camp instead of away from it. They hardly noticed it had started raining again, a barely noticeable drizzle, but the road got a little more slippery. 

They halted their running, spotting another large group of wolves led by Sylvester Sterling himself directly in front of them. Wilson grabbed Springer’s wrist and pulled him to the left, then let go as they started running again. The path that was now in front of them was blocked by the buildings, the road went in three ways instead of four, and the path to the left was blocked by wolves. The third path was also blocked by a small building, but a pile of wooden crates stacked on top of each other made a staircase up the side of it. They dashed for the crates, the first pack of wolves following not far behind them. Sterling was still around the corner, but his pack’s howling got closer and closer to them. 

“Go! GO!” Wilson shouted at Springer, who began his assent first. The crates were unstable, but they held as he reached the top of the building. He turned and reached his hand out to Wilson, who leapt over most of the crates easily, but slipped and dislodged one of them. The wood crate fell and smashed onto the sidewalk, narrowly missing none other than the pine marten, who dodged it, Springer hadn’t even noticed him until now. 

“Up the creates! GO!” Sterling ordered from 100 yards away or so, the rain picking up and drowning out his voice. 

“Grab my hand!” Springer cried to the serval, who was still ascending the crates. A heavy force knocked into the golden hare, shaking his head against the building's roof, as Mayhem galloped around him, down on all six of her limbs, then swatted her hand. The metal connected with Springer’s head, sending him back a good few feet, then grabbed the scruff of his neck. He kicked at her, blood dribbling from his nose, he managed to nail her right in the chin a few times, before she pinned him down.

Wilson scaled the crates, slipping occasionally, Vito and three wolves right underneath him. Wilson grabbed the rooftop at the last second, just as Mayhem’s tail smashed into the roof right next to him, causing him to lose his balance. The pine marten lept from crate to crate, trying to slip up the other wolves, but accidentally kicking out one of the major crates that kept the staircase up. They swayed, then toppled over, Vito and two of the three wolves jumped out of the way, as Wilson hit the ground with a thud. He wheezed, then caught a glimpse of a huge crate right before it landed on top of him. 

“NO!” Sterling cried as he neared the crash, sprinting on all fours as it was faster, the rest of his pack following his actions. The rain poured over the shattered wooden crates, the pine marten stood at the base of it and stared at it. The third wolf whined, dragging himself out of the rubble, then collapsing, one of the others rushing to his side. Vito rushed over to the place where the crate fell on top of the small feline, grabbing and pulling away the splintered wood, just as Sterling ran over and shoved him out of the way. He panted, frantically searching through the debris, grunting loudly as he used his shoulders to move the single intact crate. He looked to the hole he created, a small, golden-brown arm with black rings and spots lying there lifelessly, scrapes and bits of wood sticking out of the flesh. Vito swallowed hard, recoiling back into his pack, surrounded by wolves. Sterling breathed heavily, eyes wide and watery as he reached down and held the hand. Wet and cold, he felt the wrist for a nonexistent pulse. 

“Dove…?” he muttered quietly, tugging on the arm.

Mayhem grabbed Springer by the ears, pinning them down to the roof while her other hand squeezed his throat. 

“I’d skin you alive right here if it were up to me.” she hissed in his face, “But I got a job to do, and you got a date with Sterling!” she cackled, picking him up and tossing him back over the roof. He yelped, tumbling back down the pile of wood, and landing on the road hard, right at Axle’s feet. The lion scowled at him, the hare weakly looking up at him. Sterling turned to stare at the golden hare, still hunched over the corpse of the serval, eyes turning from those of sadness to eyes wide in rage. He breathed heavily, the rain a mere afterthought as he approached the hare. Axle looked to the enraged brown hare, him and the rest of the Mastiffs taking a few good steps back. Mayhem stood on the rooftop, watching closely, posture much like a dragon. Springer looked up at him, left eye bruised and blood dribbling from his nose and mouth. 

“You.” Sterling snarled, the jackrabbit bracing himself and flipping onto his back. He stared up at the enraged man that stood in front of him, his silver eyes locking on his throat. 

“What have you done?” he hissed. 

“Me? I-I-” 

“You-” he growled, then made an intangible noise and lunged for the golden hare’s throat, grabbing him and pinning him down, “You’ve never meant anything to me! I’ve been waiting to kill you since the second I first laid eyes on you... I always knew you would be a royal pain, and that you’d be better off dead!” he turned his shoulders as he lifted his arm in a clenched, vertical fist, then punched the golden hare in the nose, the fragile bones in his nose shattering. He wheezed, Sterling posing to go again, but gritted his teeth and let out an exasperated, no less enraged hiss of a sigh. He lowered his arm, eyes dilating back to a normal size and he stood up. He looked down at the pathetic hare beneath him, breathing beginning to slow, yet still shaking. He hummed to himself, dusted off his shirt and fixed his collar, then turned to walk back to his building. 

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he smirked at Stone as he passed him, “Help that poor wolf to the medic, and as for Wilson…” he paused, choking back any visible emotion, “take him to The Reminder. But… double check a pulse first.” he ordered. 

“Yes, sir.” multiple wolves said at once, clearing away the wood from the small cat’s body. 

“You,” he snapped at Vito, “help them, then meet me in my office. I want to speak with you.” he lowered his voice. 

“Y-Yes, sir.” the pine marten replied, the brown hare smiled as he walked away. 

“Wilson…?” Springer called as the wolves unearthed his limp body. One of them held her finger to the cat’s nose, then his neck, then shook her head at the others. 

“What do you mean?” Springer asked, “w-what do you mean ‘no’? Wilson?!” he cried, thrashing at the mountain lion who dragged him away. Vito’s throat tightened as he looked to the serval, a little blood dribbling from the small cat’s mouth. Springer was dragged by the lion right past him, they locked eyes as they passed. The look on his face was some horrible combination of anger, fear, maybe, one could call… heartbreak? Vito’s head turned as he held his gaze, wide with tears threatening to fall, he looked away in shame. A jackal watched the mountain lion drag the golden hare away, then looked to Vito. Max was his name, as he was fairly new to the Mastiffs. He’d heard that he was the last one added to the group before Vito, but he wasn’t sure if that was supposed to make him feel better or not. Max put his hand on the pine marten’s shoulder, greeting his gaze with furrowed brows. 

“You’ll get used to it.” he said, then cracked a weak smile at him. The pine marten hadn’t processed what he said until after he walked away, and he didn’t move from where he stood until Max came back and nearly dragged him to follow. 

----------------------------------------

“Sir?” Vito poked his head in the door left ajar. It was the next day, and no one had really gotten that much sleep. Vito had been moved into his new room, and the silence was somehow worse now. The cold walls blocked absolutely any noise from the outside, and all he could hear was his heart beating so fast, he felt as though it might just pop right out. 

“Vito, glad for you to join me.” Sterling said, glancing up from his desk, seeming to have straightened up the whole room. The items on his desk lay perfectly in line with one another, and he still continued to fiddle with them, “You never witnessed a harvest, have you?” he asked. 

“Harvest? No, sir.” 

“Well, now’s the time you do. See, we do this every month- well, we used to do it every month, but now we do it a little more often- but I just had one moved to tonight. Since you’re new, you’re required to join us. Many people from the society will be there, it’s held right across the street. Since you’re a Mastiff, you’ll meet us there at 5:00 tonight. Don’t be late, it’s very important you see it.” he smiled. 

“I heard Springer talkin’ about it. Is it… mass execution?” the pine marten asked. 

“It is, and it’s interesting you bring up Springer, as he’ll be first.” Sterling hissed, Vito’s shoulders tightened. 

“W-Why?” he squeaked. 

“Why? Why do you think? Springer put thoughts into Wilson’s head. My consort would still be alive if it wasn’t for him…” he trailed off. 

“How is that Springer’s fault? N-No disrespect, but-” 

“Of course not, Vito, it’s not disrespectful to ask a question.” Sterling chirped, “No carnivore I have ever met had a problem with my trophies. The only difference was that Wilson was exposed to that hare’s ideas and mindsets, but I couldn’t be sure, so I ran an experiment.” he smiled, “You. You were my experiment, and you don’t seem to have any problem with what I do here, do you?” 

“N-No, sir.” Vito gritted his teeth. 

“Yes you do. Don’t think I didn’t notice you had a little bit of meat stuffed into your cheek this morning. However, you have a chance to correct yourself. Don’t be late to the harvest, meet us in that building right across the street.” he said, pointing out the window, “If for some reason they won’t let you in, show them your pin, which you should be wareing at all times…” he remarked. Vito glanced down at his shirt and winced. 

“Just wear the pin, and you’ll be fine. Care for a mouse?” he asked, setting a tray down with a bowl of mice and condiments on little plates. 

“Uh,” Vito stammered. 

“Small rodents are a very important part of a pine marten’s diet. Help yourself, I can always get more.” Sterling grinned. The weasel gulped, then reached for a mouse. He picked it up by the tail and held it gently, it squirmed and squeaked at him. 

“They’re very good with cheese.” Sterling added, “Takes out the, uh, gaminess.” Vito nodded, then snapped his teeth onto the mouse’s head, killing it, the iron taste and crunchy bones made him gag. 

“It’s a bit difficult to get used to, but they’re one of my favorites.” the hare purred, “Feel free to order any from Chyanne. It’s a privilege only Mastiffs have.” he said. Vito hummed, taking a deep breath and swallowing the mouse. He sighed, coughing a little, Sterling chuckled. 

“I really do hope you get used to it. It’s very important you, as a weasel, get enough protein in your diet. There are more ways to prepare them, but I love them like this. You can’t get any fresher than this.” he said, picking one up with a cracker, and biting into it. Only half of it, the back half still set on the cracker in his hand. Vito winced as he watched him eat it, fighting to get a little fur unstuck between his teeth with his tongue. 

“Well, you’re free to go now. I’d really think about how you like your rodent prepared. Talk to Chyanne about it, she’d be happy to give you a few samples.” the hare said. 

“Thank you, s-sir.” Vito said, standing up, and hastily leaving the room. Morbid, eating a live mouse. At least kill it, why not kill it first? 

----------------------------------

Sterling lied in his bed, blankets all messy and some even torn. The room was trashed, claw marks and ripped curtains littered the floor, he didn’t exactly know how to deal with grief any other way. Now he just lies on his bed, curled up in a little ball facing the window with torn curtains, he really wished he hadn’t done that. He breathed shallow, rapid, quivering breaths, eyes wide. He lightly scratched his neck to soothe himself, like his mother had when he was little, but it wasn’t working. Why wasn’t it working? 

He growled to himself, digging his claws into his shoulder, tearing and grinding fur and flesh away from muscle. He winced, then sat up. He looked at his bloodied hand, then heard a knock on the door. He could see Axle’s tail from the window, what horrible timing. He hissed in pain as he raised his arm to lift his shirt back over his shoulder, hiding the deep wound he gave himself from view, expecting the bleeding to ruin the shirt, as it often did. He reached for his coat, then grabbed his leather jacket instead, as blood would have a harder time to seep through the thick leather. He sighed upon reaching for the handle, taking a breath before opening it. For once, he answered it with no trace of a smile, which caught the mountain lion off guard. 

“Sir?” he asked, “The Reminder is ready. Are you-?” 

“I’m fine,” he snapped. 

“Are you sure…?” Axle stammered, glancing at the trashed room behind the hare.

“Yes.” he hissed, “Go tend the machine, I’ll be down in a minute.” He snapped. 

“But, sir-”

“GO! I said I’ll be down in a minute.” he snapped. 

“Y-Yes, sir.” Axle hung his head, then backed away down the stairs. Sterling huffed, muttering something as he shut the door behind him, turning back to his destroyed chambers. He sighed, defeated, what more did the universe want from him?

------------------------------------

It was now well past 5:00, and the sky had already gotten dark. It was even darker because of the thick clouds that still let their rain down in a consistent drizzle, it had been like this all day. The Corridor was eerie at night, and with all the cries and whimpers of the prisoners, it made things worse. Vito had no issues getting back behind The Reminder with everyone else, he was pretty well known after all he’s done recently. And, he was the only weasel of the Mastiffs, which made him stand out even more. 

The room they were in was dark, and they had to walk up a small flight of stairs above what Sterling called the ‘jaws’ of The Reminder, and the weasel gazed over the balcony. He sighed, the low hum of the backrooms where he was told the meat is trimmed and prepared was drowned out by his thoughts. Springer would be first, the idea of watching him be executed made his stomach turn, and that was also partly because of that wretched mouse he ate. He didn’t care what Sterling said, raw meat didn’t taste good when it was still moving. The rest of the Mastiffs laughed and joked like highschoolers on the last day of school, and even Chyanne was up here. They had seltzers and jerky, ‘to keep their instincts at bay’ , Sterling says. A small group of wolves sat with Chyanne while one of them chugged as much seltzer as he could. He got to nearly half the bottle before stopping, the carbonated drink burning his throat, no doubt. He lifted his hand to his mouth, then belched rather loud, loud enough to echo.

“You’re so gross!” Chyanne shoved him in the arm, giggling, the rest of them laughing as well. Vito watched them interact with each other, and thought to himself about the advice he received from both Mary, and from Max. Did they really get used to it? Had all of them started out just as disgusted by this whole situation as he was, then got desensitized to it? Or was this a coping mechanism? Did they laugh and make jokes, and overall act juvenile as a coping mechanism to deal with the horrible things they witness? But they eat the meat like it’s no big deal, but, technically, Vito did as well. It was just that one instance where he couldn’t stomach the idea, and that was more because of the shock of realizing what- or who exactly he was eating. They had to be right though, look around. They’re all happy, laughing and cracking jokes like friends, like there wasn’t a problem in this world. Maybe there wasn’t. Maybe he’d just have to give it time. 

He sighed, the doors opening and dozens of people trickling in. Mostly carnivores, as expected, all looking to The Reminder excitedly. The laughing behind him stopped abruptly, so he turned to see why, and was met with Sylvester standing right behind him, with a big smile on his face. He gasped, startled, then shut his mouth. 

“You’re on the ground team. Basically, just make sure none of the miscreants run away.” Sterling said, then walked down to the floor. Vito followed him, as did many of the others, including Max and Axle. Several dozen prisoners were dragged out of The Corridor, and into The Bowl. Vito spotted Springer immediately, the hare on the verge of a panic attack. 

“Here,” Max said to him, “Just stand around The Bowl and guard it. If anyone tries to run, only move if they’re on your side. If they’re opposite of you, don’t move, okay?” he said. 

“Okay…” Vito replied, standing to the far right side of The Bowl. He scanned the group of miscreants, locking eyes with the golden hare almost immediately. He snapped his gaze forward, finding it better to not look at him at all. 

“Vito!” he cried, sobbing in between breaths, “Vito, I know you can hear me!” The weasel gritted his teeth, trying to control his breathing. 

“Vito, please! You gotta get me outta here,” he lowered his voice, “please, you’ve done it before, please, just one more time!” he sobbed, hushed, but one of the wolves turned to look at him, scowling. Vito scowled right back at him, clenching his jaw. 

“You know I can’t do that…” He hissed back. 

“Don’t be stupid, and I won’t say a word.” the wolf growled at the pine marten, then turned back to face the stage. 

“Vito-” 

“Please, stop talking. Jus’ stop talking.” he muttered, back at the hare, choking back tears. 

“But-” Springer was cut off by the microphone feedback, as Sylvester Sterling took the stage. He grinned, glancing at The Bowl, then at Vito. He cleared his throat and fixed his tie, his cane stamped right in front of him. 

“As the last few find their seats, we gather here today to witness The Reminder and her raw power,” he recited. Vito looked to his feet, legs practically glued together, and hands held behind his back. A loud ringing in his ears drowned out the speech, and the reactions from the crowd, until people in head-to-foot suits wielding catcher poles approached them. One of them stepped right to Springer, who squirmed. 

“No!” the golden hare whimpered as the wire was tightened around his neck. He kicked and thrashed, but was forced to his feet and up the stage. Right up to the jaws of The Reminder. Vito tried to swallow the nausea in his stomach, taking slow, deep breaths to try and settle himself. 

“Vito,” Sterling snapped from the stage, grabbing the pine marten’s attention, looking him dead in the eyes, “Come up here.” he ordered. Vito hesitated, then took a few steps forward, “There is one more thing I need you to do. See, I hurt my shoulder this morning, and I’d like you to do the honors.” he waved up at Springer, who was sprawled out with his hands above his head, looking at him with big, pleading eyes. Vito blinked, then looked back at Sterling. 

“Sir… please don’t make me do this again…” he muttered. 

“Oh, nonsense,” he said, “you’re the perfect person to do this! With your history and all…” he chirped, then looked up at Springer. 

“Do you have any final words, Springer?" he hissed. The golden hare looked at him, then the crowd of carnivores who watched him with hungry eyes, then at Vito, then back at Sterling. Maybe this was best, what did he have left? How else could this have ended? Mindlessly following orders from Sterling, the mad hare who already had price tags on him? Or living like Crosshatch had, living in constant fear of being caught, just prolonging the torture and terror, praying every night that Sterling wouldn’t find him, or that someone else would just come and kill him anyway? Could this, being strung up and publicly executed in front of the hungry eyes of countless carnivores, really be the best option? Yeah, it kind of was. Just to end the torture, everyone else’s had been ended quickly, why should he have to suffer? He didn’t, that was the short answer. He didn’t have to, and this was proof of that. I’d be over soon, maybe he didn’t have to be afraid of it anymore. 

“...thank you.” he breathed, Sterling curled up his lip. He scoffed, then nodded at Vito. The pine marten looked at the red lever and gripped it, but hesitated. He breathed heavily, shaking his head. 

“Vito,” Springer said, “it’s okay…” he said, smiling, eyes watering and throat tightening up. Vito stared at him, then looked down at the switch. He took one deep, long breath, and pulled the lever to his chest, the hum killing his soul as warm liquid spattered onto his face.