I wanted to create my own AU fanfiction with a little less restrictions than my primary project, Dusted. So, I have made this piece of writing I hope presents an emotional torrent in any who should decide to read it. Do not worry though, for I have not put anything overly graphic or hopefully offensive in this. I look forward to comments and reviews, whether positive or negative. I have tons of fun writing all of this and hope you enjoy.

In this world of many seemingly constant flows, the only true constant was change. The change of traditions and ideals as regimes rise and fall or a new way of thinking poisons an old religion.

As the seasons change, so do the ways in which the civilized world works. And the world as it was now was a truly lackluster place. Prey ruled with in an iron fist in the lands of Savanna Shire. Whilst other lands were known to be fair to predators, the Shire was by far the largest and most populous region of the know civilized world of Animalia.

A red fox stared ahead blankly as he was dragged through the mud by two bulky rams in full mail and plate armor.

After trying to return a sack of grain to a merchant's cart after it fell on the road, the merchant cruelly accused him of trying to steal from him. Normally, such accusations would be punished with jail for a period of weeks to months, but being a fox entitled this poor soul to far harsher treatment. He was currently being taken to a lord who would barter him off as an indentured servant to a wealthy family. Such was the state of the world when taxes only paid its way so far with feeding criminals in a cell. A lord would buy the supposed fine imposed on a criminal and the criminal would be indebted to the lord until such a time as they deemed fit to clear the debt. Most lords used the situation to their advantage to indenture a mammal indefinitely or until their bodies become too broken to continue in any sort of productive fashion.

Such was the fate that awaited him. Though they called it indentured servitude, it was slavery at its most obvious core.

All because he chose to show kindness. All because he wanted to earn a mammal's respect. Even if just a little. The irony of all of this pushed him to the brink and a few silent, hot tears burned away at the corners of his eyes.

The path he was being dragged along became laden with stone. His eyes saw the main road they turned onto as his limp and tired body was pulled along towards a daunting manor. Nor large but by no means diminutive, it hovered on a small hill, the proper atmosphere of a noble emanating from the exuberant nature of the design.

"On your feet, fox!" one of the rams spat at him, batting a hoof against his already bruised back.

The red fox collapsed in a heap at the foot of the stairs to the manor, propping himself up by sheer force of will onto his elbows, letting out a huff of air from his muzzle. His paws were bound by old and frayed rope, which might make it seem as if it's easy to find a way out from. All that the old and frayed rope did easily was irritate and grind away at his skin. Much of the fur on his wrists were gone.

Before the hoof of cruelty struck again, the fox stood shakily as straight as he could. He couldn't muster much pride when dressed in rags and barely looking like he could stand.

He was goaded into the front doors to see the inside of the manor was far more dark and foreboding than the elegant exterior. With a stone flooring and vast foyer, the entryway looked more along the lines of a court, made more apparent by the stage and elevated podium with a large deer buck standing behind it in nobleman's attire.

"I see our guest has arrived!" the deer bellowed in over theatrical pleasantness. "Why don't we start our state of affairs, post-haste? Hmm?"

The fox remained silent and held a blank stare towards the deer. No contempt, no implied distaste or hatred, no false sense of smug satisfaction to incite their anger. He stared in silent acceptance, hoping they would continue their charade and quickly get it over with.

"Onwards then," he continued in all his persistent happy tone, "to our wondrous event."

The red fox was shoved forcefully forward by a ram again. He almost smirked at the other way one could take it.

"Now then Lords and Ladies," the buck yelled in greeting, talking in part to those in comfortable pews off on elevated sections to the sides, "we have gathered today to determine the destiny of this criminal, guilty of theft and assault of our fine prey citizens. With our poor guards and state supplied prisons being overburdened and overworked, we look to you, our kind and generous nobles to help in the correctional development of our fellow mammals."

Overly polite clapping and grunts of approval polluted the fox's ears. They flicked in irritation but his muzzle remained stoic and devoid of any emotions.

"Only a couple of nobles could not make it today, with our dear Lord Bogo and his lovely wife, Lady Gazelle, dealing with a recent desertion of three of their predator servants after graciously giving them a home. Otherwise, I welcome," the buck cleared his throat while reading a scroll of parchment he spread open on the podium, "Lord Hoofsteadler, Lord and Lady McHorn, the Countess Trunkaby, and our prosperous provider of many seasons of bountiful harvests, Lord and Lady Hopps."

The red fox dipped his tail and held his body firm against the urge to shake at the name of Hopps. They were known throughout the region as the largest noble family in the area and owners of the most abundant and prosperous fields of agricultural produce. Their many sons and daughters worked the lands themselves and those eldest in the family were eventually exempt from such labor and allowed to oversee hands that were brought in to work in their stead. The Hopps were well known for acquiring foxes, wolves, and any such old enemies of rabbits.

It was none all too surprising how cruel the ones once thought as diminutive could become once put in a position of power over those that once hunted them. With a plethora of offspring to carry on their legacy, it was near impossible simply escape from such a family as them.

Stewart Hopps was none exempt from such accusations of cruelty, with the fox knowing full well that he used the sublimation of predators under his care to provide a means of confidence for his children and validation of their place over them.

He could only expect that if he went to them, the level of suffering he would endure would be paramount to a slow death. He hoped he would go to the others. It did not matter which at this point. At best he could remember, the others in the room would simply give him slim comforts and let him be if he performed as they asked. It wouldn't be glamourous but likely without physical malice or care to see him more often than necessary.

"I shall be accepting bids to this fox's debt to society and ownership over his fate, though my aides will be around to accept them in silence."

The next few minutes were met with quiet murmurs as scribbles were made and parchment passed around to each lord and lady. The fox tried to quell his feeling of anxiousness in the face of such an uneasy silence.

The deer and his aides collected the written bids and looked them over. A wonderfully horrible grin spread like a crack in an ugly vase on the buck's face. The fox could feel his blood chill in apprehension.

"I am pleased to say," the deer looked over at the fox with an air of smugness at the answer to the fox's unasked question, "that our illustrious and laborious Lord and Lady Hopps have won our bid for this fox."

His mind stopped functioning as fear set in. He kept all outward signs of it on lockdown but he was still a torrent of emotions on the inside. None of which could coalesce into anything recognizable as of yet. He looked over to the Hopps, to which the male had a growing smile curling his muzzle. The wife gave him a short glance, meeting his inquisitive gaze, then looked forward to evade his eyes in disdain.

The next few hours passed in a tense haze to the fox. The shoving and prodding into the back of a barred wagon. The slow ride into the country and away from the decrepit but still comfortable density of the city, with its walls and battlements to keep some feeling safe from bandits and invaders.

At the very least, he was glad his travel accommodations didn't include the company of any of his new 'friends'. His stomach had its own complaints as the wagon rumbled over the well-traveled roads. The rabbit driving the wagon, pulled by other predators, looked his way and scoffed at his predicament.

"Be grateful you don't have to rot in a cell on the coin of the people, fox," spat the rabbit with as much poison in his tone as there was insulting energy behind it. The fox didn't mind or care. He'd been belittled most of his life. Even in his service as a soldier for several years, his fellow comrades of the prey persuasion would find notable ways to try getting under his skin. Some of them eventually respected him enough to keep the insults and physical abuse at his expense down to a more minimal, if not playful, level.

"So then, have a name?" the rabbit asked incredulously.

The fox stayed silent. As far as others were concerned, he was a mute. Sometimes, even he was sure he was. He hadn't properly spoken in a couple years. Since he temporarily lost his voice near the end of his tour as a soldier when an accident involving a fire and near suffocation left him literally speechless, he found that when he had nothing to say, he had less to get him into trouble. His snark and sarcastic humor earned him more than a few beatings from overly entitled mammals who viewed his existence as an affront to civilized society. The things he said only served as an excuse to vent their anger and misconceived notions of self-imposed justice upon him.

"Damn fox… who would give scum like you a name anyway," the rabbit replied to the fox's lack of an answer.

Soon enough they were hitting smoother, more traveled paths as they pulled through the Hopps fields. The fox sniffed the air upon being introduced to a sweet smell wafting gently into his personal space.

Blueberries. Strawberries. Raspberries? And maybe even pumpkins.

Of course, he could see the carrots too, as well as smell them, but they paled in delectable comparison to the tart fruits teasing his sensitive nose and hungry stomach.

When the red fox looked around, he saw many of the sons and daughters working the fields, content with the literal fruits of their labor. He also saw many predators working on harvesting produce in areas far from the others, and supervised by other rabbits, holding many tools to assure subservience to their command.

The fox flinched in sympathy to their plight and knew his might be the same if he incited them by any means.

The bars started to move as his prison opened to several smug and overly entitled rabbits waiting outside as he was pulled out by the wrists and thrown to the ground.

"Get this cur some semblance of clean and at least clothe him with something befitting a servant of the Hopps," One of the eldest said with sheer disgust as she looked over his muddied and sullen form.

A couple of the larger and more burly rabbits quickly dragged the sleek fox away, taking him to a large barn nearby to toss him in something resembling a washhouse, whereas they threw buckets of water on him and allowed him a few minutes privacy to clean himself accordingly. The leftovers of a rather aggressively acidic soap bar were on a shelf nearby, to which the fox reluctantly picked up and used in as gentle manner as he could on his aching body. He tentatively reached the tender wrists, of which were free of bonds for the moment, and whined in pain as the soap burned into the raw wounds.

While he could not see them, he could hear his two temporary overseer rabbits laughing at his pain, making derogatory jibes at his expense. He glared in their general direction through the wood walls. How can so many mammals take such cruel pleasure in how such beings as himself are treated? How can one family fester so much darkness within their minds? They may believe they are doing what is necessary to secure their 'rightful' place in a civilized world over predators, but at what cost do all these prey stop being the prey nature made them and become a new form of predator, of whom dole out oppression and cruelty to satisfy their hunger instead of claws and fangs.

The red fox found another bucket of water, colder than comfortably withstanding, and poured it slowly over himself to rinse away his filth. The burning in his wrists subsided, if not by a miniscule amount and he walked outside the washhouse area to see servants' clothes left on a stool.

Slightly big on his longer, thinner frame, the clothes fit well enough. He slipped on the long sleeved brown shirt, tucking it into the darker blue pants that he secured on his waist with a thin chord. Feeling well enough to face his new oppressors in his new garments, the fox braved the exit to be greeted by the conversing rabbits. He didn't listen to what they were saying nor did he care to.

"Not so mangy now, huh fox?" the taller rabbit scoffed at him. The other simply nodded in blind agreement at the poor jibe at his expense. If he dared to speak, he might have touched upon the predicament of his unkempt appearance being the responsibility of those over his care.

That might have earned him a mob style beating from any rabbit in the area willing to lend a paw. With the swords on the belts of the rabbits though, the fox figured it more likely they would kill him and claim he tried to escape or worse, claim it was self-defense against a savage fox. So, the fox merely nodded silently and stepped between the two to allow them to guide him wherever they wished it.

Many might think he was giving in to this oppressive state, that he was broken and beyond all hope. While that was partly true, the fox found it was more beneficial to his prolonged health to go with the flow of the world. If he chose to fight the current too hard, he would tire himself out and be bashed upon the rocks. However, if he went with the flow willingly, he would sometimes find that said flow would give him the momentum and opportunity to use its own force against it and propel him past the rocks.

No such opportunity presented itself yet, but he knew something good would cross his path if he kept up his mute ways at avoiding to purposely incite the violent tendencies broiling in many of these misguided rabbits.

They walked in relative quiet, with the occasional shoving to keep the fox's pace, even though he wasn't lagging behind in a such manner.

Soon enough they approached the massive hill that housed the Hopps warren. Burrowed and built over decades most likely, the large hill had many protrusions resembling doors and windows. It looked as if the whole hill was hollowed out to make way for the stylings and housing arrangements for all the family who lived here. The front door was the most protrusive piece constructed, being a set of large double doors surrounded by a large supporting structure with many windows and some structures akin to guard posts or defensive battlements. With several hundred sons and daughters to work the land or oversee more who do, it made this home easy enough to feel the need to defend. The fox surmised the guards were more siblings or family given the task to protect their own lands.

Just one big happy family. The fox only had his mother and even she passed early in his life. He silently thanked whatever force ruled this plane of existence that she died peacefully as opposed to how he heard his father died. The thought made him cringe slightly, steading his pace to keep from slowing in his reverie.

They passed this grand entrance, to no surprise of the fox, since he was sure entering through such 'majestic' halls would only taint their purpose of greeting family and those considered 'worthy' of visiting their home. A smaller door on the side of the warren, with no surrounding windows or openings in the immediate area, appeared to be where the fox was being led to.

Two more rabbit guards opened the heavy looking door and shoved him inside, closing the door shut.

A slot opened at eye level, at least for a rabbit, as one of the guards glared at him.

"These will be your quarters from now on," the rabbit said calmly, but with a venom that made the angrier rabbits seem more appealing by comparison. "Best to acquaint yourself with any roommates not working the fields and get some rest. You'll be put to work pretty soon so I would take this time we give so generously." The fox stayed silent and stared blankly until the slat closed.

His eyes adjusted to the dim light thrown off from a few candles. The room was laden with various beds, all of which were meant for more moderately sized mammals. They were bunked up to three levels and bedded with something that looked like straw lumps covered with a top sheet to keep the straw from clinging to the fur of those who sleep on it.

Not wanting to waste an opportunity at rest, the fox found a bed that looked unused and slumped heavily into it to rest. Sleep came all too soon for the exhausted fox, the day's issues acting like a metaphorical force of nature and pulling his eyelids down in a definitive manner.

0000000

A few hours later, the grinding hinges woke up the red fox to see a large, dark silhouette through the open doorway. Larger than a rabbit, he had hoped it was just some of the predator servants returning from their work.

It was another fox like himself… though far larger. Not in the muscular way either. He was portly. The fox was confused. Most everyone he saw on the way in that was working under the Hopps 'care' was thin and probably malnourished. The new fox approached him and as he acclimated to the dark again, he could see the features of the new fox. He was wearing a sympathetic smile.

"H-hey there," he stuttered. "I hear y-you're the new predator around here?" the red fox nodded silently.

The portly fox held out a large paw. He took it and shook firmly.

"My name's Gideon. Gideon Gray." He paused, hoping to hear a name in turn. The red fox clasped a paw to his throat and gestured away.

"Oh… I… I'm sorry. No voice?" He nodded in affirmation. Whether he could speak or not anymore, he wasn't about to try for a random stranger he knew almost nothing about. His name was a good start though. Not that he knew it from somewhere else in his life.

"Well… you look starved," Gideon stated rifling in the apron that the red fox only now realized he was wearing. His head perked upon sniffing out something delicious.

The other fox pulled out a cloth wrapped around something and unraveled it to reveal some bread, a mixed assortment of berries, and a carrot. The red fox's paw twitched out towards it and he stilled himself and drew the paw back to his chest.

Gideon handed it to him, giving him a warm smile.

"Take it… they don't give anyone here much in the way of food. So, eat that before they see it."

The red fox gave Gideon a skeptical look towards his pudgy belly, to which he put a paw on it and gave it a jiggle.

"I'm a special case, unfortunately," he muttered. "They like my cooking and baking. A lot in fact. But they make me taste a fair amount of the food beforehand so as to check whether I have poisoned it or just if has been poisoned in general."

The red fox lost his furrowed brow look of skepticism and adopted a manner of sympathy. Even in a more respected position, the Hopps clan found a way to demean those who served them.

"Don't worry," he mentioned, trying to allay the smaller fox's worries. "I have gotten pretty good at sneaking quite a bit of food back to the rest." He lifted the apron and under the roundness of his belly was a small sack attached to his belt. Given the amount of food he received compared to the size of the sack, Gideon could likely feed another twenty predators the same amount he was given. These quarters looked like they had bunks enough for double that.

The red fox stopped eating for a second to stare at his food with a sense of guilt.

Gideon chuckled, looking at the mute fox, as if knowing his reservations.

"You don't have to worry. I knew you were going to be starving, so I got a little extra for you. Everyone here gets some food but I bring this so no one ends up collapsing in the middle of their tasks. Otherwise, they withhold food and drink for that m-mammal… until they complete their tasks."

The red fox continued eating in solace, folding up the cloth and returning it to Gideon when he was finished, who kindly took it and put it in his apron pocket.

He then gestured to himself and to the door, trying to convey his need to know what will happen to him.

Gideon's face tried to keep up a smile, but it exuded a sadness about it as he seemed to understand what the smaller fox was asking.

"If you are wondering what they'll make you do," he started, "I'm afraid they don't put the foxes out in the field often. They like us to clean the residence and cater to the elder siblings needs. I cook for most of them, there's another couple vixens who clean around the areas where the elder daughters live. If I had to guess, that's where they would send you. But, I haven't seen another male fox since I've been here. Mostly just the vixens."

The smaller fox looked around, wondering about where the females sleep.

"In a di-different set of quarters," Gideon answered his mute question. The red fox had to give it Gideon. He was a good read of mammals. He turned to the portly fox to give him a gentle grin of thanks.

Gideon nodded and turned over onto the bed he was sitting to get some sleep.

"I have to be up in a short while to prepare for dinner. So, keep the talking to a minimum if you can." The small fox facepalmed as Gideon turned slightly to show a sarcastic grin. He couldn't hold in his own smile and laid down on his back, staring at the bottom of the bed above himself. He couldn't fall asleep again now, especially since this was probably the highlight of his entire week since being arrested and herded into a slave sale.

He smiled at nothing in particular and decided to bask in the light of the moment for a little while before he had to deal with whatever reality awaited him outside that barred door.

Another couple hours passed, or so the red fox imagined. He could only go by the progress of the bleeding slivers of light that moved over the floor from the edges of the door. He supposed it acted like a sundial. He was dragged in here around midday and the larger fox came in a few hours after. That meant he would have to leave soon to prepare dinner.

He heard a commotion and looked to the barred door again, fearing someone would be coming in to take him somewhere.

He felt no limit to his relief to see more predators shuffling in, tired but otherwise looking less broken than he felt at the moment. Most of the predators in question were wolves, leopards, jaguars, and a couple lynxes.

Some of them gave the red fox a questioning look of surprise, but remained silent as the whole entourage shuffled in. Once the door was shut and barred again, a couple of the others picked up the still lit candles and used them to light a few oil lamps in the room, giving the dim room a bit more permeating light.

To the fox's own surprise, Gideon rolled out of bed with an energy that made it seem as he was awake the whole time. He pulled out the sack he showed the red fox earlier and handed out more small clothed bunches with food. Everyone passed them around and quickly savored the contents with much fervor.

Once the cloths were cleaned of any food, they were promptly returned to Gideon, who stuffed it all back into the sack and sat down at the edge of his bed. Barely five minutes had to have passed in the whole transpired event. The red fox tilted his head at the sheer efficiency of it all.

"So, who's the fresh blood?" a nearby leopard said with a wry smile. "Not too many foxes get run through here."

The red fox caught the gist of why he said that. With a region filled with prey fulfilling such an oppressive role, many predators find ways to extradite themselves from the region to more friendly border provinces. Foxes were a more nomadic people, making packing up and moving easier for them than other more homebody species. The fox himself was more of a lost soul. After his roughly seven years of military service in an allied outlying province to Savanna Shire, he was discharged with a pittance as payment and became a wanderer throughout whatever land wasn't avoiding him, cursing at him, or chasing him off. He wasn't even sure how he made it so deep into this area from his mindless wandering anyhow. Might have been the months of stumbling through the dense forest dominating the north easterly regions. They weren't heavily populated and stretched for many dozens of miles from beyond the Shire's borders to near the center of the region. Many believed that feral mammals populated those woods as ancient savages.

Gideon piped up on the smaller fox's behalf, "Our new friend here is k-kinda… m-mute." The smaller fox nodded.

"Oh…," the leopard breathed, looking down.

The red fox forced a smile and waved in figurative dismissal of the leopard's guilt.

"Well, while it's not exactly great to see another poor soul being pulled into this place, we welcome you warmly all the same," remarked a grey wolf, twisting his paw in a flourish as if fancily welcoming him to a manor.

The red fox nodded respectfully and gestured a friendly hello to everyone who cared to be a part of the group greeting.

"He seems nice," said another wolf, whom looked older and more white than grey. "So, what's our new buddy's name? I mean… presuming he has a way to mime that."

The fox shrugged non-committedly. He could read and write very well but figured it would be better to keep that knowledge to himself. Letting them know this could lead to the Hopps knowing indirectly and he wasn't sure how that would affect him if they knew he had some level of scholarly training.

"Fair enough," the same wolf stated. "We can just call you Mime until we figure something else…."

The red fox gave the wolf a raised eyebrow, deadpan stare.

"…or leave the naming until a much later time," the wolf unconventionally continued, to which the fox nodded appreciatively.

After a few more greetings and some names being dropped, the conversational core shifted towards nostalgic memories of lives past and hopeless dreams of the future.

The leopard who spoke before was named Sabor. Apparently, he was previously a carpenter with experience constructing elevated housing. In other words, treehouses for mammals more at home amongst the branches.

The older grey/white wolf was called Akela, whom was a widower and former captain in a military of the northern province of the Tundra Federation. He was taken prisoner after being recovered from the battlefield and sold off to the Hopps. He seemed to be the implied leader/elder of the whole group to which most looked to for advice or respected greatly.

The younger grey wolf was named Nathan. His story seemed sadder simply because there wasn't much to tell. He hadn't had a chance at life before being roped into a life such as this. So, he could have supposed hatred for his oppressors that might be far more deep-seated than some others who hadn't been under their thumb all their life, not that the fox had a chance to see if that were the case yet. He seemed more entranced by other's stories about a life outside servitude then spiteful that he hadn't had a chance to experience it.

The fox heard a few other names and tried to commit them to memory along with faces for later but soon found that the door opened with a creak once more to reveal the guards coming in. Everyone became deathly silent and looked down, so as to avoid any potential confrontation.

Gideon stood up slowly but surely saying, "Dinner needs to be prepared?" to which a guard nodded. The other guard accompanying went over to the smaller fox and grabbed him by the arm to drag him haphazardly from the bed. The rabbit dragging him threw him out of the quarters into the open air.

"We are going to have you start a few duties as of now," the rabbit guard fired at him. "Kitchen cleaning." The fox sighed lightly as all hope of a few more minutes of peace were shattered. Gideon followed with far less abusive incentive to move. He didn't look any less disturbed by that prospect but he supposed Gideon was set in his role and the rabbits felt he didn't need any 'help' making the right decision to move to where he needed to work.

Entering through a thick, wooden side door to a large stone kitchen laden with tools, stoves and ovens of varying sizes, the smaller fox and Gideon were guided in differing fashions. Gideon started gathering all the ingredients, of which many seemed to have been already prepped for him, answering the unasked question for the red fox of why he wouldn't have been needed hours beforehand for prep work. He internally scoffed at the only thought he could entertain, being that Gideon must have been trusted only so far as to cook the food with prepping being a stretch.

The smaller fox was guided to a corner with a small stool, then forced down by the shoulders to sit on it.

"You're going to wait here and clean up as needed and nothing else, fox," spat the rabbit guard who took great joy in forcing most of his journey to this point from the servant's quarters. "If you do anything else NOT relating to that, you will be beaten to within an inch of your life." The rabbit raked his eyes up and down the thin form of the fox. "Not that you have much of one."

He turned away then stopped to look back and grin menacingly, "AND if you so much as scarf down a single morsel of food without our say, you won't be fed for a time determinate upon what we see fit." The fox's eyes narrowed in slight defiance but he looked to the floor to avoid giving the rabbit a reason to enact anymore cruelty on him.

The rabbit guards left the room and locked the door. Gideon hustled around the large kitchen with greater speed than he thought one as… unbalanced as he was could move.

Barely a few minutes passed before another door unlatched and opened, whereas a plethora of rabbits entered to assist Gideon. From the passing scents that the smaller fox could detect, all of them were female. He mentally huffed, finding the continued staples this family abided by almost laughable.

Most of the rabbits gave him gazes of pity and disgust, apparently viewing him as scum just for being as he was. The wafting scent of food graced his nose and teased at it much like the cool wake of a lake lapping at one's paws on a warm summer day.

Given the insubstantial, though graciously generous, meal he was offered earlier, along with the past couple of days dealing with the miniscule amount of prison food allowed to him, his stomach decided to become a rebellious spirit and growled almost menacingly in the presence of more substantial food.

A few rabbit does looked his way and giggled mockingly while covering their mouths. Their stares didn't bother him so much, but the condescending way they looked at him, much like a beast on a leash, unnerved him a bit. He could only surmise this is how the Hopps influenced their youth to confidently face the world as they do. By subjecting predators to their children's whims, they could sculpt them into the next generation of oppressors.

The rest of the evening came and went in bouts of too slow and too fast. The wait while smelling good food only drove time to drag its feet. The times he needed to clean after something only distracted him for too little time as his ministrations to clean spilled sauces and other mixtures kept his mind busy from the insufferable hunger he so wished to sate.

The only solace in quickly finishing his cleaning tasks was that the bunny females wouldn't be able to touch or pull his ears and tail in a curious and humiliating manner with his body tucked back in the corner he was given.

He was finally able to breathe a small sigh of relief when said does had to pile out so as to join the meal with all their siblings. Many of them looked him over with many looks he found confusing to say the least as they all left.

He proceeded to clean up as he was ordered, glad that the day was almost over and maybe it would get easier.

He was completely wrong.

After little sleep and even less food given to him, the red fox was forced to clean up after each of the meals, being just as present in the same fashion as the first night. For three straight days, he was forced to endure a torture that made being beaten seem like a holiday. He was closely watched and overseen, only being fed enough to keep him mobile and threatened with the potential to lose his life if he broke and ate anything that his eyes could see and nose could smell. For all the meals in a day he was forced to do his so-called duties for, he was forced to withstand the onslaught to his senses of good food being made by what seemed like a cooking god at this point.

Gideon could only watch in growing pity as the smaller fox became more and more lost with each passing meal. The portly fox was impressed with the smaller red fox's force of will to avoid eating anything in front him in a desperate and ravenous manner. Gideon had all too often seen this form of initiation upon becoming a servant to the Hopps clan, though never directly. They would feed new servants little, work them near the source of their pain, and to avoid others sympathizing with the new servant, they would be kept in a solitary quarter with no bed. Once a new servant cracked and ate what they were forbidden from touching, the ones overseeing them would be tasked with administering punishment. Such punishment was usually given in the form of senseless beatings to break the servant and bolster the confidence of the ones overseeing them. The only upside to such treatment, was that after breaking, the servant was allowed to heal and eat as all the other servants did, which was enough to satisfy.

The red fox was breaking by the fourth day, his belly simply giving up on groaning in protest and settled on a silent treatment, only giving a murmur upon receiving the measly scraps he was given to keep him in the most minimal of health standards. Breathing even became hard as his paws shook and his tail didn't even bother swaying anymore. But he was resolute. He wouldn't break, he wouldn't give them a reason to beat him, and he wouldn't let them get to him. Never.

Upon the ending of dinner on this fourth day, the fox sat sullenly upon his stool. He stared at the stone floor and traced the edges of the stones with his eyes, following the grout and taking a different path from one end of the room to the other each time. The one overseeing him had left the room to attend to something he hadn't cared to pay attention to.

He was expected to clean up as soon as they came back. His eyes perused the counters and tables, laden with the leftovers of food he could only surmise was delicious beyond all compare in his state. His tongue lolled out a bit as he stared, starting to lose control in the absence of any supervision to restrict him.

He got up to slink forward, almost falling on all fours with weakness. He couldn't resist any longer. And with all the leftover food in front of him, he had to sate his hunger. A rustle could be heard outside the door and the fox had to decide with slices of fruits, vegetables, and breads peppering the counter inches from him. He could scarf down what he must and try to hide or retreat back. He internally screamed and slunk back into the stool just as the door burst open to reveal a bunny barreling in, followed by his guard.

"Heather just needed me to grab the last tray of pastries from the oven," spoke the rabbit in a determined tone. "You don't need to…" she trailed off as her footsteps softly stopped somewhere in front of the fox, much to his apprehension. His mental state was hinged on a rusty nail, ready to break if anymore figurative weight was thrown onto the already massive load his mind tried to lift. He couldn't see her as his gaze locked onto the floor. All he could see was the light grey fur of her feet planted firmly in front of him.

In a moment that stunned him beyond any comprehension he could still muster, something gently tugged the underside of his muzzle, lifting it to face the new rabbit. The red fox tried to steel himself for the newest looks of disgust or jeers at his expense.

What he saw instead was two large and wide orbs of twin purple seas. The color reminded him of fields of violets in full bloom. Instead of the contempt or disdain he expected, the fox say true confusion and sympathy.

Her pupils darted around, in what he assumed was an attempt to get a good look at him. He was sure his eyes had bags under them, his nose dry, and fur was scraggly at best.

She released him quickly and darted over to the oven to pull out the tray of pastries, smelling wonderfully decadent and sweet.

"If you can hurry dear sister, I would much prefer not leaving you in the presence of this…," the rabbits eyes looked over to him with disdain, "filth… longer than absolutely necessary."

The female rabbit looked aghast at that comment.

"Well… dear brother," she seethed, "I will hurry after we give this fox here something to eat."

The fox's ears couldn't help but perk at the delightful prospect, but he tried not to let his hopes rise too far. He had been teased with all this food for days with little to live on himself. This could be a more in depth manipulation to torture him into breaking.

"You can't feed this mongrel," the brother chided to his sister. "he has not earned his share as of yet."

"Don't think I don't know of your monstrous methods to break this poor soul," she nearly shouted back.

"That's assuming such a creature has one…," the brother muttered.

"No, brother!" the sister yelled with an accusing finger directly in his face, making him cross his eyes to look at the offending digit. "You will allow this or I will tell of your many absences to visit town and get drunk when you were meant to guard your post. Don't think I don't know. Your post rests near my bedroom and I can see you leaving at hours far earlier than is proper."

The brother looked absolutely mortified at the accusation.

"I… how… did you know where I went?" he asked in a fearful tone.

"Oh please," she said in a condescending tone, "you reek of booze when you return and stumble your way back to your post with barely an hour to spare before shift change. Plus…," she paused to avert her gaze, "I followed you one time to figure out what you were doing."

Despite the brother being likely older and taller than the sister, he looked quite timid and shaken at the boldness of the younger rabbit.

"Now leave, while I tend to the fox. Take the pastries and tell Heather I will be out momentarily. If she pursues with more questioning, I stubbed my toe and wished to rest. Now go."

The brother harrumphed and grabbed the tray, only pausing with a twisted look of anger at both the fox and his sister while she grabbed one of the delightful treats and shooed him out the door.

The grey doe closed the gap to the red fox slowly, watching his paws clench and head lower.

"Hey…," she said softly, holding out the treat with both paws, having wrapped it in a napkin. "I want you to have this. Take it."

The fox eyed the treat and raised his paws tentatively, extending his fingers to the steaming pastry. He looked past the food before him and found the gentle smile of the violet eyed rabbit. She stepped a little closer and tried to goad him into grabbing the pastry. It was square and looked like a tart, swollen in the center with whatever filling was inside. It didn't matter to him at this point. If it wasn't poison, it was worth eating.

His paws drew back as he was still wondering if this was real or just a trick to come in and beat him afterwards.

She sensed his apprehension and grabbed a paw, placing the treat in it. It was warm and felt flaky on the surface. She stepped back and crossed her paws, tilting her head slightly with a kind smile. The fox stopped caring anymore and brought the pastry up to his muzzle to sink his fangs into it.

An explosion of flavor coated his tongue as the pastry's flaky exterior ripped open and poured forth a hot, sweet, and tart essence to his taste buds.

Blueberry… it was a blueberry tart. As much as he wanted to scarf down the food, he tried to enjoy this heavenly reprieve as slowly as he could. Swallowing the first bite after several seconds, the fox could feel a permeating warmth inside him that was devoid in his life these past few days.

Bite after bite later, the red fox licked his fingers of any leftover residue, thankful for his savior's mercy.

His eyes watered in relief as he tried to speak, thanking the rabbit for ending the torture. His throat rasped and tears fell as the rabbit's face seemed to look on him with profound sympathy.

"Are you alright," she asked. The fox nodded and opened his muzzle to attempt to try speaking to his savior again. A gurgled gasp came out.

"You can't speak… can you?" her voice sounded overly concerned and guilt ridden.

He waved to her, trying to convey he's trying.

"It's fine if you can't," the grey doe softly told him. "I think I know what you are trying to say. And you're welcome."

The fox grabbed her shoulders before she could turn to leave.

"th… …k. yo…ou," he rasped out. The fox then began coughing at the feeling that grated his throat like it was well and truly rusty.

"w… wh… oo...," he tried to begin in question.

"Judith," she responded, placing a paw on his chest.

"Ni…" the fox coughed again.

"Nigel?" Judith asked, hoping to spare the fox's voice.

"Ni… chol..as," the fox gasped slowly.

The grey bunny smiled warmly, her voice sweeter than the tart as she gently spoke.

"Pleased to meet you, Nicholas."

I do hope this first chapter has entertained you well. I hope to continue this at length alongside my primary project Dusted. Both will be getting attention, though this one will be updated less often. As of yet, I have no set timeline on the next chapter but I hope to make it at least once every couple weeks. Don't quote me on that yet though. I am also open to plot input from those who wish to express such. I haven't even decided as yet whether or not this will drive towards a pairing. I'll leave that up to the flow of the story.

It's been a hustle, Sweethearts.