The first quiet night she had in weeks…and Dawn couldn't sleep.

Evie, however, slept quite soundly in the top bunk. Although her night terrors had largely waned–God bless Dr. Granthoof–, the whitetail doe still pleaded with her husband. The night before, she delivered a heartfelt apology about the blade that severed his jugular. And the night before that, she once again mistook Dawn for the dead buck and begged her not to leave. But tonight, the ewe heard only steady breathing. Her first peaceful night in so long…and she couldn't close her eyes.

Too bad Gabby's not here. Dawn shook her head. No, I've burdened that weasel enough.

Dull blue lights bathed the hall outside their cell. Dawn sighed and sat at the edge of her bunk. Evie rolled onto her back, still silent save for steady breathing. The ewe reached for her glasses from the bench and looked around. Thankfully, Otterton was still taking time off. She shuddered. I won't think about him. He's back with Melina. Granthoof wants me to remember that. Now if only his miracle work would ensure he stayed away.

Dawn slid onto the floor and walked to stave off the chill running through her feet. Not that she could go far. The bars were set, the recreation room wouldn't open until much later that morning, and the one inmate she could really call a friend was hopefully getting rest. A clock would do wonders. Then again, it wouldn't be much of a punishment if I knew how much time was passing, would it? She dropped back into the bottom bunk.

Her head tilted towards the wall. A few white scrapes traced the outlines of a hazy sheep and an unfinished skunk. Her muzzle tugged between a heartfelt smile and a pained frown as she rolled onto her back. Evie snorted and kicked her mattress. Fortunately for all involved, this didn't lead to a screaming fit that would knock the sheep onto the cold floor. Unfortunately, even as she dragged the stiff blanket over her head, sleep still didn't come.

She set her glasses back on the bench and stared at the springs lining the bunk above her. They quietly groaned as Evie flipped over. The ewe shook her head. If she starts snor–no, let's not go there. Things are bad enough. Dawn narrowed her eyes. Between the shifting springs, the faint silhouette of a Predator arched on all fours took shape. Her eyes lowered to the carvings. Perhaps he…

Her cheeks burned at the memory of Tyler Zorrillo's lips against her forehead. His past self wrapped his arms around her and dragged his tongue along her face. Her eyelids drooped. She reached for his headfur, but only caught air. Her eyelids reopened. A low, defeated sigh escaped her. She reexamined the incomplete carving, taking note of its missing tail. If only Evie hadn't kicked that rock out during one of her fits. Oh, well. They'll probably erase it, anyway.

Dawn tried to think about other times she spent with Tyler. Or her nights at Rainier's with Tiffany. Or Ruth, back when she was her cheerful number one fan. Or even Judy, back when…

She once again stood over the edge of the pit, watching Nick Wilde advance menacingly onto Judy Hopps. She tried to look away, but her gaze locked on the rabbit desperately pleading with the drugged fox. However, rather than the real life ruse, Nick buried his teeth in Judy's throat and slammed her into the wall. Bile rose in Dawn's throat. She lurched over the side and gagged. The ghostly vulpine pulled away, his muzzle soaked crimson. And then he looked down and screamed.

The ewe clutched her head. Nick, snout still painted with dripping red, fell to his knees and shook Judy. When she didn't stir, his paws flew to his temples. But rather than swear vengeance and snap his teeth at Dawn, the fox wept. Her eyes drifted to Judy. Dark red soaked the rabbit's pink plaid shirt. The ewe clamped her mouth and choked. Nick bowed his head and pulled Judy into his arms. Her heart clenched.

And then Dawn's forehead struck the floor. Nick cradling the murdered Judy gave way to the familiar sight of Evie rolling dangerously near the edge of her bunk. The ewe crawled back under the blanket and rubbed the space between her eyes. Shadows of the despondent fox and the departed rabbit flickered over the springs. Dawn tugged the blanket over her head. She's not dead. They're still working together. I didn't kill her. Neither did he. I didn't…

Tears smeared the stiff fabric. Evie rolled back into her usual spot. The springs' groan sounded far too much like the weeping fox. Dawn pressed her hooves to her ears. She's not dead. I didn't kill her. I almost did, but I didn't kill her. I… Another flash of Nick sobbing and shaking. His vulpine features molded into another ghostly visage of Emmett Otterton. Somewhere behind him, Melina begged her husband to say her name. Dawn bit her lower lip and shut her eyes.

"What's going on?" Evie spoke through Melina.

Dawn reopened her eyes and slipped the blanket under her arms. Thankfully, the whitetail didn't take this cue to resume her nightly penance. Instead, Evie once again kicked the mattress. And the groaning springs sounded just like groaning springs. Dawn rubbed her forehead. Embers of the (nonexistent!) murder of Judy Hopps cracked around her. I deserve that…

The ewe glanced at the carvings. In the dim light, the sheep and unfinished skunk's faces sank. She blinked. Their simple smiles returned. Dawn brushed her hoof over the incomplete Predator, tracing where his tail would have–

He's not a Predator, she reminded herself. But, like before, the words sounded far less convincing. He's not. I…told him he wasn't. Predators are monsters. They couldn't… Her hoof fell to her side. No, there wasn't any point in pushing that, anymore. She could only ignore the muzzle and claws and teeth for so long.

His tongue trailed her neck. Her skin numbed. He had all those teeth. So easily they could've slipped and buried themselves into her skin. No, he wouldn't do that to me! But his teeth were still there. And for a few moments, she could almost see Tyler Zorrillo in place of Nick Wilde, muzzle stained scarlet and locked in a mournful howl. At any time, kisses and licks could've turned into bites and tears.

And yet, if he kissed her neck now, she would dig her fingers into his headfur and beg him not to stop.

Dawn whimpered and pressed the balls of her hooves into her forehead. A new crop of tears flowed freely. The ewe wiped her eyes and returned to the carvings. No sudden changes in their happy faces. She made another attempt to close her eyes. Otterton, Nick, and Tyler morphed into one another, splatters of maroon drying over their faces.

"Miss Bellwether?"

Dawn reopened her eyes and slowly tilted her head.

Melina Otterton materialized at the corner of the cell. Her paw lightly tapped the bars. The ewe groaned. She's not here. She's with her… Dawn rubbed her eyes and sat up. Melina pulled her paw to her chest. "I'm sorry. I know it's rather late."

"You're not really here," Dawn murmured. The last thing she needed was for Evie to overhear the one-sided conversation.

"I know I'm not really here, but I promise I'm not here to attack you."

The sheep tried to glare, and then winced at the memory of (nonexistent!) snapping teeth.

The hallucinatory otter sighed. "I just want to talk." She smiled weakly. "And I'm not sure you'll be getting to sleep anytime soon."

Suppose she had a point. "All right," Dawn conceded under her breath. So long as the whitetail didn't wake up.

Melina nodded, but kept to her corner. "I know it's been very painful for you. And I know it still haunts you."

Dawn laughed bitterly. "That's putting it mildly. I still see your husband skulking around. Well, not lately, or really, but…"

"I understand. And I'm sorry it's come to that. I'm...well, the real Melina Otterton is still grateful you helped her."

Dawn's ears sagged. "Even though I'm the reason she nearly lost her husband in the first place."

The otter seated herself atop the cold floor. "That is true. But she–"

"You might as well just say you're her. It's less confusing."

"Very well, Miss Bellwether. I came here tonight to ask you a simple question. And you probably know what it is."

You are a construct of my mind, after all. Dawn let out another bitter laugh. Evie kicked the mattress, but remained otherwise nonresponsive. "I do, but go ahead."

Melina sucked in a deep breath. "Why did you target my husband?"

"The million dollar question I have yet to hear from the real you." Dawn rubbed the back of her hoof over her forehead. The projection of Melina waited expectantly. The ewe settled her arms atop her lap. "I did it because he was necessary."

"Why?"

What the hell am I doing? This isn't her. And everyone here already thinks I'm crazy enough as it is. The ewe's eyes threatened to water. I...I know it's not you, but I'm sorry, Melina. "Because your shop catered to Prey. And I was trying to turn the majority of the populace against Predators like you."

The hallucinatory otter nodded. "You felt it was pragmatic to dart my husband and turn him savage." Her paws curled for a few seconds before slackening. "I'm sorry. I guess I needed to process that."

"If you say so." Dawn's face sank. "I'm sorry. I know you're not really her, but I–"

Melina raised one paw. "You don't need to explain. I–well, the real me–certainly made an impression on you."

"Yes, you have."

"I don't suppose it had anything to do with your coming by our boutique, did it?"

The ewe's chin tilted towards the floor. Soft violet petals brushed her palms. Her muzzle twitched. "It did."

Even though she couldn't see it, Dawn knew the projection of Melina Otterton was smiling warmly. "We simply wanted to help. It was a very hot day, and you looked very tired."

Dawn's fingers fastened around her knees. "I was. Leodore "remodeled" my already cramped office and then sent me out to get supplies, while he and–" The sheep took a deep breath and eased her grip. "I don't want to think about that idiot, right now."

"You don't have to. And you don't have to continue."

Dawn finally looked up. "But that's why you're here, right?"

"Yes, but I won't force your hoof. It's making you uncomfortable."

The ewe regripped her knees. "But you're right: you did make an impression on me. So did your husband. Many Predators didn't notice or didn't care how I felt. But you two…you were nice to me."

"Like a certain skunk, perhaps?"

Dawn blushed and shyly returned her gaze to the floor. "Well, not exactly like him. But…" The color faded from her cheeks. "I remembered your act of kindness–and those violets were wonderful–, but I couldn't…I mean…I…"

The projection of Melina Otterton stood and slowly approached. Dawn's face shot up. Melina shook her head and extended her paw. The ewe stared. "It's okay," Melina reassured. "I won't hurt you. I promise."

Dawn slowly extended her hoof. And despite everything, she felt the warm paw brush her fingers. She curled her arm back against her chest. "I really am crazy."

Melina smiled sympathetically. "I won't say one way or another."

The sheep weakly laughed. Above her, Evie muttered something she couldn't catch. Dawn blinked back newly-formed tears. "I'm sorry, Melina. I'm sorry I dragged you and your husband into my plan. He became so crucial, and I thought…I thought you only acted nice to get in my good graces."

"Well, we weren't aiming to offend the Assistant Mayor. But neither of us liked seeing you so worn out."

"I know that, now." Tears trickled down Dawn's cheeks. "Oh, hell, I knew that back then. It's why I wanted to help you find him. I mean, I know it was part of my scheme, so I'd finally get back at Leodore, but I wanted to help you. I hated seeing you so miserable. And when you showed me that photo of your pups, I…I had no idea you two…" Her hooves clasped her face. "I'm sorry."

"I appreciate that, Dawn."

The ewe wiped her eyes with the balls of her palms and forced herself to look at the otter. "I had to remind myself that you and Emmett were Predators. Because you didn't act like Leodore or Kent or any of them. You weren't cruel or dismissive. And I could've called it off. I had my phone out, I could've…and I didn't…but I remembered…"

Dawn fell back into her bunk, eyes flooded. "I remember what you did, but I didn't call it off. I told myself it was a one-time thing, that it was just an act. I didn't…I didn't…I…I'm sorry, Melina. I'm so sorry." She curled into herself and pressed her sobbing face into the sheet. "I'm sorry…"

The sheep shuddered. Her whitetail cellmate followed suit. Eventually, Dawn pried the dampened fabric from her eyes. The projection of Melina Otterton remained where she stood. The real Melina Otterton wouldn't be so calm.

"Are you sure?"

Dawn blinked. "Oh, right. Sorry, I forgot. But I'm sure she hates me. I darted her husband, I betrayed her kindness, I manipulated her."

"Have you talked to her?"

The ewe sat upright. "What would be the point? She wouldn't want to; and I don't deserve that chance. I hurt someone out of my own stupidity." Her eyes drifted to the incomplete carving. Her arms trembled.

Melina shrugged. "I can't say whether or not she'll give you that chance, but you won't know until you try."

"I don't see why she would." Dawn rubbed her still-shaking arms. "What Predator would believe me at this point?"

"I don't know. But it might be good for her to hear it, anyway."

Another bitter laugh. "So I spill out my guts for her, and then what? She thinks I'm just lying to get her on my good side?"

"It didn't sound like a lie to me, Dawn."

Of course it didn't. I'm talking to myself. "It doesn't matter how sorry I am. I can't undo what I did. And like I said, she wouldn't believe me, anyway. No sane Predator would."

Melina glanced towards the carvings. "I suppose that means he's insane?"

Dawn clasped her muzzle. "Oh, mutton chops. I keep forgetting…" She closed her eyes and dragged a worn sigh.

"You didn't want to hurt him, either."

Dawn's eyes shimmered. "I never did. I didn't want to hurt either of them. But I did." Her fingers dug into her cheeks. "You, Emmett, and Tyler. You're all Predators, but you're nothing like Lionheart and Bearig and the many other inconsiderate ones I came across. And even they weren't like all Predators." Hot tears trickled over her fingertips. "It sounds so obvious when I say it out loud. I guess I was really stupid, wasn't I?"

"Maybe you were. But I still think she'd appreciate it."

The otter vanished as Evie coughed and draped her legs over the edge. Dawn wiped her face and curled back underneath the stiff blanket. The whitetail kicked the air and thankfully didn't ask Dawn why she was talking to the wall. The ewe waited until Evie's legs retreated back into the top bunk before rechecking the cell. Melina Otterton didn't reappear.

Would the real her want to hear it? Would she believe me? Do I even deserve that chance? Dawn drummed her fingers atop her stomach and glanced at the incomplete skunk. Her face sank. "No, I don't." She ran her right hoof over his smiling face. More tears burned down her cheeks. Tyler deserves better than me. For God' sakes, I even told him a Predator couldn't love me. He deserves better. So does Melina. I can't undo what I've done.

Melina Otterton's voice resurfaced. Maybe not, but it can't hurt to say you're sorry. And you may not believe it, but I know it's not a lie.

Dawn brushed her eyes and folded her arms atop her chest. She thought back to that day she visited the boutique on official business. Then she remembered the previous visit, Melina's paw holding her hoof, both Ottertons beaming as she praised their violets. And then she remembered meeting Tyler at Misty's. For the first time that night, Dawn began to smile. Three Predators, so unlike Lionheart and Bearig. And of course there was Gabriela. True, she split her brother's head open with a crowbar. But they really connected since that day Argus Ursin unfairly grilled Tyler on ZNN. Who would've guessed?

A fourth Predator. Four more unlike Lionheart and Bearig than she thought she'd ever meet. And one of them still loved her, still tightly held her in his arms when he could. Still called her his mate. Dawn blushed deeply and ran her fingers over the incomplete carving.

Now that she thought about it, Melina hadn't outright condemned her, either. What she saw from interviews was more conflicted than vengeful. Maybe she would be willing to hear out an apology. It was the least Dawn could do. Maybe it wouldn't amount to much, but it'd be a start.

"Maybe you're right, Melina," the ewe whispered, as her whitetail cellmate rolled above her. "Maybe you're right."

La familia was doing better, but those damned pesadillas still bit at her. Some new poison triggered Renato into another feral rage. Madre y Tía succumbed to a nastier strain of Night Howler savagery. O la mala oveja escaped prison and hunted them through the rain. Viola gripped her forehead and shook those thoughts away. Cálmate. Solas pesadillas, no más. Things'll be okay. Her eyelids bobbed. WAKE UP!

Viola sighed and settled behind the counter, still fighting the urge to nod off. Elkon John's "Sad Songs (Say So Much)" gave way to Zelle King's "Ex's and Oh's". The previous customer, an ocelot with grand ambitions of wooing her, left in a defeated huff. The latest shower began two minutes later, catching and soaking the sputtering ocelot. Her eyes scanned the path leading to Misty's. Aside from a yellow jaguar pacing through newly-sown mud, there wasn't a soul in sight.

¿Qué buscas? No hay problemas aqui, gracías a Díos. Well, besides Señor Amante. But I think he got the message.

After five more minutes of watching the latest rainfall, Viola shuffled towards the register and wiped away a pawprint smudged in what she hoped was just bugsteak grease. The door shook open. She tucked the rag under the counter and looked up. A smile crept over her face.

Renato Manchas smiled back. Under the fluorescent lights, rainwater trailed down his Limousine Service uniform like rivers carving into black rocks. He tipped his cap. "Buenas noches."

Viola chuckled. "Took you long enough."

He seated himself. "Larga noche. Trabajo mucho."

She smirked. "¿Manejando a los ricos? Pobrecito. You got your nice little uniform all wet."

Renato laughed. Viola's smirk eased into another warm smile. "Tengo bastante uniformes." He folded his arms. "¿Cómo estás? ¿Tienes más locos?"

"Además del mamí que me quiso, no."

"Pobrecito. You break so many hearts." He glanced out the front windows. The rain slowed to a steady drizzle. "Tendré otro paseo en una hora y media, más o menos. Un café, por favor."

"You sure about that?" Viola eyed the clock fitting its arms at 2:40.

"No te preocupas. I've had my nap. And it's the nocturnal crowd. Muchos ricos." Renato closed his right eye and ran one finger over the fading scar. "No hay problemas."

"I hope so." Viola readied his usual dark Searpal's Best blend and cleaned his usual adobe red mug. She glared at a crack forming along the rim. "No es veneno," he chuckled behind her. She chuckled with him and carefully rewiped the rim. Over her shoulder, her primo rechecked his scar. She frowned. "You sure you're okay?"

Renato set both paws atop the counter and nodded. "I'm fine." He pushed a grin. "They think it makes me distinguished."

Viola filled and placed his mug. "Es bien para negocios?"

"Un poquito." He gently blew the top and took a careful sip. "Gracías, I needed that." His muzzle straightened. "Me siento bien, Viola. No más pesadillas, no estoy en el hospital, tengo mi trabajo. I'm fine."

Viola rested her paws on the counter behind her. "I'm glad, Renato. Really, I am. I'm just…" Malas memorias of Renato hunched over the sterile white Panacea Court room floor flickered before her eyes. She briefly closed them and took a deep breath. Didn't need las memorias to mix in with las pesadillas. "Lo siento."

Renato gently squeezed her paw. "I'm sorry I reminded you. But I am feeling much better." He gave her paw another squeeze and took another sip. "Well, some of los ricos are a pain, but I can handle them."

"Yeah, you can."

"Are you okay? I didn't mean to–"

"It's all right. I'm all right. I was just concerned."

"I appreciate it. And I'm still sorry I reminded you."

"It's fine, don't worry about it. Besides, it's late. And everyone's going to the unglassed side, so es un poquito aburrido, anyway."

"Entre nosotros, no quiero lluvia en mi café."

Viola smirked. "Buen cliente."

Renato tipped his cap. "Good to be of service, ma'am."

She snorted out a laugh. "Idiota."

He chuckled. "Perhaps." His muzzle straightened. "But if something's wrong, you can tell me."

"I know. Thank you."

The drizzle gradually died out. A few straggling nightwalkers departed with their yellow District umbrellas. The canned rainforest sound effects gave way to Eric Bearnét's "Sunshine". One of the umbrellas started towards the glass doors. Renato lowered his mug and glanced over his shoulder. And then immediately returned his gaze to the black-brown bobbing in the red ceramic.

Yellow folded atop the mudmat, revealing a tiger in a dark blue polo and tan slacks. He tucked the umbrella under his left arm and stepped inside. Viola glanced back at Renato. The black jaguar eyed his coffee like he expected something to rise from the murky waters. The tiger seated himself two stools to Renato's right. The black jaguar's grip tightened on the handle.

Viola smirked. He's feeling fine, all right. "Welcome to Misty's. We're glad you could join us at such a late hour."

The tiger shrugged. "I've had plenty of long night shifts, fueled only by Snarlbucks and Kritter Kremes. Tonight, I'm gonna spoil myself a little."

Renato braved a look at the tiger, and then shot back to his coffee when Viola caught him. She chuckled. "Suppose you came for the atmosphere?"

"Yeah, it's quieter here, a place where I can think." The tiger examined the menu. "PB Exotica?"

"An overglorified peanut butter and jelly sandwich. But it's pretty good, especially if you have a sweet tooth." For the sake of her primo's sanity, Viola refrained from looking in Renato's direction.

The tiger smiled. "Been years since I've had PB&J. What the hell, I'll take one. My sweet tooth deserves it."

Viola passed the order on. At the corner of her eye, Renato braved another look. Unfortunately, he wasn't quick enough to avoid the tiger. "Ren?"

The black jaguar straightened his posture. His eyes still couldn't quite break from his mug. "Hola, Eric. How are you, this evening?"

The tiger laughed and clapped Renato's back. "Can't complain. Today was pretty tame. Didn't have to break up any fights, for once."

Renato sighed. "I'm sorry."

Eric cocked an eyebrow. "For what?"

The black jaguar resumed staring into his coffee. Viola returned with the overglorified PB&J, atop its adobe red plate and surrounded by misted strawberries and raspberries. Eric nodded his thanks and took the first bite.

Viola turned her attention to Renato. His adorable shyness vanished behind a sinking muzzle and eyes threatening to gloss over. She gently gripped his shoulder. His gaze remained on the lukewarm black-brown water. Eric lowered his PB Exotica and quickly wiped his paws with a stray napkin. "You okay?"

Another sigh. "I'm fine. It was a really difficult time for all of us, right?" Renato choked out a laugh and took a deeper drink. "Buen café, Viola. Muy bien."

Viola released his shoulder and folded her paws atop her stomach. Eric slid the plate over and shifted to the next stool. "It's not your fault." When the jaguar didn't respond, the tiger gently squeezed his free paw.

Another, heavier sigh. "I know, but…es nada." Renato downed the remainder of his Searpal's Best and straightened his sloping cap. "Es nada."

"Ren," Eric said firmly.

The jaguar tried to smile. "It's not a problem, really. My night's just not over yet. You know how it is."

"Yeah, I do. But please don't kick yourself anymore, okay?" Viola narrowed her eyes at Renato. Eric shook his paws. "Sorry, I'm not trying to start anything."

Her glare eased. "I know." She faced the tiger. "How'd you two meet?"

Eric chuckled. "I had a long day at the office about a week ago. We had to break up a few fights that broke out on Sienna Avenue. A few conspiracists had the brilliant idea to burn a sheep in effigy right outside Idyll Corners." He popped a raspberry into his mouth. "Made some sense, I guess. Bellwether used to live there, but that hardly made every other ewe and ram guilty." He turned to Renato. "And they're not."

Viola nodded grimly. Renato followed suit, his eyes still unable to meet the tiger's.

Eric gnawed on a strawberry and continued. "So, once the effigy was set to burn, one of the tenants called us. Figuring it might've been another instance of large Predator versus smaller Prey, they dispatched Delgato and I, just in case."

Viola blinked. "Dispatched?"

Eric saluted. "Officer Eric Fangmeyer at your service, ma'am. So Delgato and I were sent out, expecting to see maybe some wolves or bears or someone of the like. But, much to our surprise, the protest was conducted entirely by larger Prey. Wildebeests, rhinos, hippos, you name it. And unfortunately, a few of the hardier rams didn't wait for us to get there before a punch was thrown."

One jaguar winced while the other shut his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault. After taking a medley of punches and kicks and jabs, Delgato and I resolved the matter peacefully. But with that and other disputes like it, I needed the night off. So Delgato recommended me to El Volcán. And who did I meet at the Lava Bar?" He grinned at Renato.

Viola stifled a chuckle. Estás chiflado por un policía. Muy adorable, Renato. "I'm guessing you two got along pretty well?"

Eric patted Renato's back. "Yeah, he's fun to talk with, once he stops staring at his paws."

Viola failed to hold back her next laugh. "I'm sorry."

The chauffeur finally looked up and shrugged. "It's fine. It's been a long night. But, yes, we talked for a while. Mostly about…" His ears folded. "I'm sorry."

Eric squeezed Renato's shoulder. "Don't worry about it. Like I told you then, it's not your fault. Never has been." The tiger hoisted his sandwich back into the air. A raspberry rolled off the adobe red plate and wobbled in front of Renato. "That, however, was completely my fault."

Renato gripped the berry between his fingertips and smiled. "If you say so."

"Don't you dare eat that, Renato. He paid for it."

The black jaguar waved the raspberry dangerously close to his muzzle.

"Renato Alberto Manchas," Viola mock-growled.

With an exaggerated sigh, Renato dropped the raspberry back onto Eric's plate. "No soy niño. I know better."

The tiger smirked and raised the raspberry to the light. "No scratch marks, no telltale bites, no globs of saliva. You're off the hook, Ren." His eyes locked onto Renato and his smirk curved into a grin. "Of course, if you want it that badly, I don't mind."

Renato's eyes immediately returned to the counter. Viola bit her lower lip to keep herself from cracking up. Her primo shot her an annoyed glare, which dropped as Eric Fangmeyer patted his shoulder. "It's okay; I was just teasing. I won't do it, again." The tiger finished his PB Exotica, save for that errant raspberry, and excused himself to the bathroom.

Viola giggled. "Tu novio es muy guapo."

"No es mi novio."

"Yet."

"Por favor…" Renato concentrated on the remaining slosh of black-brown coiling around the bottom of the mug.

Viola smiled. "I think he likes you. You should ask him out."

His eyes met with hers. "No, no puedo. No sé–."

"No será problema. Just ask him out. Or don't. I wouldn't mind spending some quality time with him."

Renato barely caught an envious growl. Viola giggled again. The chauffeur sighed. "I shouldn't, anyway. I've done–"

Viola leaned onto the counter. "No eres culpable. You know it wasn't your damn fault. So, please, stop that." She gently squeezed his paw. "It's not your fault."

He nodded slowly. "Sí."

She patted his arm. "No quiero oír más de esa mierda. You're gonna stop blaming yourself for crap you had no control over. And when that nice and painfully sexy tiger comes back, you are going to ask him out. And if he says no, you are going to thank him for his company. And it won't be the end of the world."

"Es fácil para ti."

"Trust me, you'll kick yourself if you let…" She trailed off as Eric made his way back to his stool. "Welcome back. Renato was just telling me about this one rico who tried to flood the back of the limo."

The tiger laughed. "That sounds crazy."

The black jaguar eyed his cousin curiously, but then gave her a grateful smile. As Eric sat down, Renato steadied his cap and coughed into his paw. "Yes, it was really crazy. But there was…" He coughed again.

Eric frowned. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. I just…" Renato took a deep breath and forced himself to face the tiger. "I was wondering if, perhaps, you and I might…" His left paw clasped his face. "Ay, Díos, ¿por qué es muy duro?"

Eric squeezed Renato's shoulder. "You sure you're feeling all right?"

Renato's paw dropped back to the counter. After another deep breath, he once again met Eric's gaze. "I'm fine. I just wanted to ask if you…if you and I…perhaps…" He coughed harder into his fist. Over his curled fingers, Viola shook her head. Otra vez. Renato forced his paw down. "I wanted to ask if you, perhaps, had some free time Saturday…"

The tiger's concerned look shifted into a warm smile. Viola grinned. "If I didn't know any better, I'd swear you were trying to ask him out."

"Por favor, no me avergonzas," Renato mumbled.

Eric hooked an arm around the chaffeur's shoulders. "Don't worry about it. I'm not doing anything Saturday. What did you have in mind?"

Fighting back a wave of crimson threatening to shine through his facefur, Renato replied, "I was thinking of El Volcán, where we first met."

"Qué romántico," Viola chimed in.

Before Renato could snarl, Eric leaned over. "Sounds good. I look forward to it."

Renato smiled. "Thank you."

"Oh, no problem, cutie." Eric licked Renato's cheek and slid from his stool.

The chauffeur's face flushed. Viola clamped her muzzle shut. Eric gently patted Renato's back and made his way to the register. Once the red retreated behind his black fur, Renato cast another glance at Eric. The tiger paid for his meal, bade them a good night, and gave the black jaguar another warm smile before departing. Renato returned it.

"See, that wasn't so hard."

"Yeah, pero en el futuro…" He glanced at the clock. Its arms treaded closer to three. He slid off his stool. "Gracías para el café. Buenas noches."

"Igualmente. Watch out para los ricos locos."

"I will." He turned back to her. "I meant what I said. If something is wrong, you can tell me."

Flashes of las pesadillas crept in, painting images of Renato snapping and la mala oveja swinging her gun. Viola sighed. "It's just some stupid dreams, that's all. Nothing too serious. But, thank you."

"Yo entiendo. Quiero ayudarte, Viola. We'll talk about it, sometime."

She grinned. "Pero no en Sábado."

Renato laughed. "No, tengo planes."

"You damn well better. Because if you don't go out with him, I will."

"No, él es mi novio." He paused, and then quickly turned as his face reddened again. "Buenas noches, Viola. Gracías para todo."

"Buenas noches, Renato." She looked up. Las pesadillas didn't resurface. "Ten cuidado."

"Y tú támbien." And with that, Renato departed into the rain.

Viola brushed her forehead. Still no sign of those bad dreams. Gracías a Díos. She withdrew the rag to wipe down the counter. Looking into the rain, she smiled. Things'll be okay.

Isabelle watched the glowing blue numbers blink from 2:59 to 3:00. Behind her, Alex let out a low growl. She hated seeing him like that, with his eyes shut and muzzle hooked in a silent snarl. What was he dreaming about? Perhaps that stupid gazelle who tried to "save her from a life of Predatorial backstabbing" earlier that day? Oh, boy, what fun that had been…

Excuse me?

I completely understand. A lot of Prey go through a phase where they're curious about the prospect of dating Predators. But it won't work in the long term, especially when the Predator is… (The self-righteous gazelle cast a painfully judgmental glare at Alex.) …well, you know how wolves are? Have you ever considered he might only be trying to get into your pants?

Like you are? And have you ever considered that maybe I want to get into his?

The stupid gazelle's mouth fell agape. Alex smiled warmly at her. She intertwined their fingers and glared at their unfair critic. I've made my decision. I love my Predator, and I don't care what you or anyone else thinks. So, if you're done wasting everyone's time, have a nice day.

Of course as they walked on, the gazelle felt it was his civic duty to "inform" what would surely follow. You don't know wolves very well, do you? Do you know their sense of smell and private parts are closely linked?! Oh, and they get so easily distracted! You'll only have yourself to blame when his mind and body wander!

Had she not hugged Alex's arm, her wolf likely would've leapt at the idiotic bigot. As it was, he growled a lot like he did now, lips pulled back to revealed barely-locked teeth. And that particular comment about smells...his fingers tightened around hers. Forcing herself not to shout back, Isabelle pulled Alex around the next corner and sat them down at a bench. His anger subsiding, he apologized. She smiled and told him that gazelle was full of shit. And he gave her another warm smile that melted her heart.

Departing from that little revisit, Isabelle turned back to the clock. 3:03 blinked into view. The impala rubbed her temples and yawned. Despite that, sleep still wouldn't come. Guess this gives me plenty of time to think. She quietly laughed. Oh, yeah, plenty of time.

Alex rolled onto his side with another low growl, arm muscles tightening. Isabelle reached over and gently brushed his head. The wolf leaned into her hoof. Her fingers moved down his neck and curled under his muzzle. Alex's muscles relaxed. Isabelle slid her arms around him. Her mate immediately did the same, locking his around her back. The impala smiled and kissed under his chin. "It's okay," she cooed. "Everything's all right."

The tan wolf tightened his grip. Isabelle nuzzled his neck and licked around his muzzle. Alex, in turn, brushed his cheek against hers. His breathing steadied. And sadly, this sweet moment was ruined as her mouth dried. Isabelle reluctantly broke from his embrace. Fortunately, Alex settled into a peaceful, smiling, growl-less sleep.

Isabelle sighed and rubbed her face. Her fingers trailed the faint cut still lurking under her cheek fur. The impala turned back to Alex. He snorted a couple times and resettled into a more comfortable position. She stroked under his muzzle. Her wolf smiled. She smiled in turn, gently kissed his nose, and carefully slipped out into the hall. Can't blame him. Not after that asshole, and what happened to… She paused at the kitchen doorway.

Tyler sat at the table and stared at his paws, supported by an old phonebook atop the chair's cushion. An unattended, empty glass stood a few inches away. The skunk didn't look up at she walked in. She filled the glass and placed it before him. When the skunk still didn't react, she carefully set her hoof at his back. "You okay?"

His shoulders fell halfway through a shrug.

Isabelle pulled a chair. "I couldn't get to sleep, either. Thank God I have today off." She smiled as Tyler weakly nodded. "It'll be okay."

"I'm sorry."

The impala shook her head and gripped his shoulder. Tyler slowly turned to face her, eyes brimming. She held her smile. "Don't be. Everything's all right. Everything'll be all right."

His eyes returned to the center of the table. Isabelle slid the glass with her free hoof. He slowly drank a mouthful and pushed it back. "Thank you."

"No problem. Anything else I can do for you?"

"You guys have done enough." His head bowed. "I'm sorry."

Isabelle brushed his back. "It's okay. We care about you. Don't forget that."

"Thanks." Tyler gave her a little smile, before lowering his face into his folded arms. "I'm sorry."

"You're welcome. And it's all right. Everything's gonna be okay."

Isabelle glanced towards the window. Moonlight swept over the street and buildings outside View-Pines. She turned back to Tyler. The skunk coughed a couple times, but kept his face buried in his arms. She patted his back once more. He murmured what sounded like another apology. She shook her head and closed her eyes.

That night became a few days earlier. Isabelle curved along the bike lane leading to Mustelid Manor Apartments. It had been a couple days since either of them had seen Tyler, who still wasn't answering his phone. The impala braked and chained the bike to the rack outside. The badger at the front desk nodded a hello. She nodded back and made her way to the second floor. Glass broke down the hall as she reached the top of the stairs. Isabelle ran to his apartment door and swung it open.

A whitetail, another badger, and a brown coyote threw clothes and appliances across the living room. The fridge was overturned, marking the kitchen floor with bloody pools of fast food grease and juice. A radio cracked in half like an egg. The coyote carved at the wall with a knife, seemingly undisturbed by the chaos around him. He then spun around and kicked an all-too-familiar skunk in the stomach. Isabelle reached for her phone. The vandals stopped and turned in unison. She quickly snapped a photo.

The whitetail ran for her. Isabelle swung her fist into his gut. The badger and coyote dropped everything and bolted for the door. As the impala tried to catch them, the whitetail made a desperate grab at her phone. Isabelle stepped back and jabbed her right leg forward. The cervine ducked to the left and followed his colleague out. Along the way, he laughed about "finally getting the traitor who hurt his Predator friends". She ran into the hall, spotting the whitetail as he vanished down the stairway. Three other tenants leaned out to investigate, too little and too late.

Tyler grunted and tried to climb back onto his feet. Isabelle immediately returned to his side and helped the skunk stand up. He looked around his apartment. She followed his gaze. Jeans and T-shirts dangled in strips across his slashed sofa and near his thankfully-unbroken windows. The coyote's knife jabbed out of the wall, hanging off the final R of yet another STINKASS TRAITOR. His laptop was capsized, but remained largely intact, save for a few cracked chips of plastic. And beyond the overturned fridge, a mattress with sheared bedsheets curled against his bedroom wall. Isabelle dialed 911.

The skunk clutched his forehead and calmly seated himself on a bare, untorn cushion. She looked him over while she provided all the details to Precinct One. Three cuts lined his right cheek. A pawful of black and white was torn from his left arm. And a bruise shone a sickly dark red through his stomach fur. Finished with the call, Isabelle retrieved a few paper towels and a bottle of disinfectant from the mess and wiped away the blood. Tyler didn't react, even as she cleansed his wounds. Instead, he closed his eyes.

Isabelle reopened hers and frowned. Thank God those mammals were total idiots, like the ones who trashed Alex's truck in a prison parking lot. The photo alone was enough. And soon, a group of cops in their Savannah Central blues, led by Judy Hopps and her new fox partner, apprehended them from one of the abandoned buildings lining Cinnabar. Thankfully, someone had the foresight to capture their horrified reactions on their phone. She and Alex rather enjoyed the highly-rated ZooTube post that added cartoony sound effects.

But then her mind replayed snippets of the following three days, as she and Alex helped Tyler clean up his apartment. Despite her mate's repeated (and frustrated) efforts to talk to him, the skunk was barely responsive beyond "Yes" and "No". He simply gathered torn clothes in the crook of his arm, or mechanically dropped bits of food and sofa stuffing into a trash bag. Even when they finished, the skunk barely got out a quiet "thank you", before he collapsed onto his bed.

And now, he mechanically slid from the chair and tried to prop the glass into the sink. She gently took it from him and set it near the drain. Tyler returned to his seat without a word. Her heart sank. You're not staying by yourself, she recalled her wolf firmly telling him. I'm not gonna let that shit happen again. The impala retook her chair. "We're glad you're here."

He shrugged.

"I mean it. We care about you."

He nodded.

Isabelle leaned into her chair and glanced back towards Alex's bedroom. The wolf grunted a couple times before falling silent once more. She looked back at Tyler. The skunk reburied his face into his folded arms. Isabelle rose from the table and poured herself a glass of water.

"Thank you."

She looked over her shoulder. Tyler propped his face up. A smile tugged at his tired muzzle. The impala nodded. "You're welcome. We're here to help."

The skunk took a deep breath. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Isabelle took her seat. After a sip, she cautiously asked, "How's Dawn?"

"She's doing better. They say she still suffers from hallucinations, but she's been improving. She's also been getting along with a couple Predators. Hopefully, with some more therapy, she'll…" Tyler closed his eyes and took another deep breath. "I hope she gets better. I really do."

"I do, too."

His eyes reopened. "You do?"

The impala intertwined her fingers. "Yes, I do."

Tyler guiltily stared at his paws. "Do you think…do you think she will?"

She considered. "I think so, if she's really making progress. And she still loves you, right? That should be a hell of an incentive for her."

Another tired smile. "Yeah."

"And you still love her?"

"Yes." After a few seconds, he added, "Do you think that's wrong?"

She blinked. "What?"

Tyler sighed and forced himself to face her. "I remember when I saw her trial on ZNN. She looked like she wanted to cry, to curl up in a little ball and hide. I thought about getting as many stink pellets as I could, throwing them all over the courtroom, and carrying her in my arms while everyone was blinded. Despite everything she did." Another sigh. "Does that make me a bad person?"

The impala shook her head. "I don't think so."

"Okay."

"You're a good mammal, Ty. I know how much she means to you. And from what I've seen, I know you mean a lot to her. I remember how you two were at Misty's." She took another sip. "You're crazy about each other."

Tyler tried to chuckle. "Yeah, we are."

The impala thought over her next words. "And I know you feel really guilty, that you could've done something about it. And honestly, you really shouldn't. She kept you in the dark. No one has any right to blame you."

Another attempted shrug.

She frowned. "You didn't deserve that, Ty."

The skunk's eyes fell back to his paws.

"I mean it. You didn't deserve that shit. None of it."

"If you say so," he murmured.

Isabelle set the glass aside and nudged his shoulder. Tyler made an effort to meet her gaze. "I mean it. I know you feel horrible about what happened–which itself is proof that you're a good mammal. But it wasn't your fault. She hurt all those Predators, not you. So, no, you didn't deserve to get your ass kicked and your place trashed."

Tyler's eyes lowered.

She gripped his arm. "I know it's easy for me to say all this, but you are a good mammal. And you don't deserve any of that shit they're throwing at you." The impala smiled. "And Dawn'll get better. I'm sure you're helping with that."

After another few seconds, Tyler quietly replied, "Yeah."

"And you're doing that because…?" she prompted.

He managed a little smile. "Because I love her. And because I'm a good mammal? Did I get it right?"

She giggled. "Yeah, you got it."

"Cool." His smile wavered. "I'm sorry I've made things difficult."

"It's okay. Alex and I don't blame you for anything. They're just a bunch of pricks. Besides, we already have mammals who accuse him of godawful things, just because he's a wolf."

"I've heard. Dawn wanted to keep our relationship secret, so we wouldn't have to deal with any of that."

"Smart. Maybe we should've thought of that." The impala grinned. "Then again, if I wanna make out with my wolf in public, no one's gonna stop me."

To her surprise, Tyler grinned back. "I sure won't. He said I inspired him."

"Really, now?"

The skunk's grin subsided. "Well, he told me he thought about me and Dawn, and that gave him the idea to ask you out. That, and because we're both Prey chasers, I guess."

"So you're the reason I have an absolutely awesome mate." Isabelle squeezed his arm. "Thank you."

Tyler's grin briefly resurfaced, and then sank once more. "You're welcome, Isabelle."

"Call me Izzy."

"Oh, no, that's Alex's thing. He's letting me stay at his place. I'm not gonna take his thing along with his chow and his couch."

Isabelle laughed. "We wanna help. You're our friend; and we care about you."

"That, and he probably wants me to be his Best Mammal."

"Why's that?"

"Because if Dimitri gets the job, he'll share childhood stories about "Little Sascha" to the entire congregation. And you probably don't want Alex to spend your wedding night in a holding cell."

The impala clasped her hoof over her mouth and looked over her shoulder. Tyler chuckled and leaned into the chair. Once it was certain Alex wouldn't wander into the kitchen half-asleep, Isabelle set her hoof onto her other arm. "You're really looking out for us, aren't you?"

"It's the least I can do, right?"

"Right." Isabelle gave him a little smile. "And when Dawn gets out, I'd love for the four of us to go out."

"Yeah…" Tyler's eyes drifted towards the window. "That sounds nice."

"I'm sorry. I–"

The skunk shook his head. "No, that's a really nice idea. I'd love to. And I'm sure Dawn would, too, when she gets out. I mean, they say she's getting better."

"And you're definitely helping with that."

"I hope so."

"Way I see it, if her mate's a Predator…" Isabelle immediately regretted her words as Tyler winced. Her ears drooped. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to–"

"No, it's fine. It's fine. It's…she doesn't see me as a Predator."

"…what?"

Tyler sighed. "The first time we talked after she was incarcerated, Dawn told me she didn't see me as a Predator. Namely, because I wasn't an asshole like Lionheart or that bear who pushed her around. She said a Predator couldn't love and care for her like I do." He wiped his watering eyes with the back of his right arm.

Isabelle extended her hoof. "Does she still think that?"

"I don't…she only said it the one time. And they say she's getting better about interacting with Predators, but…"

She squeezed his shoulder. "Maybe it's different. If she's getting along with Predators and getting better overall, maybe she doesn't think that way anymore. She does still love you."

"She does."

"And you still love her?"

"I do."

Isabelle's smile returned. "Then maybe she doesn't think that way anymore. And if she's getting along with Predators, and her loving mate's a Predator, she really will get better."

"Maybe."

"Something to think about." A heavy yawn slipped from the impala's muzzle. "I think that's my cue to try and get some sleep. Are you gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Probably go back to the couch in a little bit." He smiled at her. "Thank you, Isabelle."

"No problem, Ty. I'm here to help. And so's Alex, but he's asleep."

The skunk chuckled. "Well, tell him I said thanks, too. Goodnight."

"Goodnight. Sleep well."

Tyler gave her a little wave and turned to the window. Isabelle waited by the doorway for a moment, just in case. Much to her relief, the skunk dropped from the chair and returned to the living room. The impala walked back to Alex's bedroom. Her wolf still slept peacefully, his muzzle still smiling. Following another heavy yawn, Isabelle slipped under the covers and wrapped her arms tightly around him. And sleep finally came soon after his arms wrapped tightly around her.