The Weasel's Playpen: Chapter One, Page Four

"It's funny how even in the worst situations, the human race can keep itself together."

"I-I…" Arctic stared downward. "I know we died, it's just… why are we still alive?" She said. Digs shook his head. He didn't really know, either. "C-can you move? At all?" he said.

Arctic grabbed a shelf, then pulled herself up. "It's hard to, but I can manage. You alright?" Digs grabs a shelf, then pulls himself up, balancing on his new legs. "Y-yeah." He takes a step, then wobbles. Arctic chuckles. "You always were a klutz. Here, let me help, Kyle."

Digs was a little taken aback by the use of the name 'Kyle.' "T-that's my name, right?" he stutters.

Arctic shrugs. "Your real name, I think. My name is-was Autumn. Digs nods. It sounded right. He steadied himself, then opened the door.

The 'door' that Digs opened was a fake wall on the outside, and it led to a glossy oak stage, outlined with dark gray tiles. Above the stage was a pair of spotlights, one was green and the other was blue. The stage background was lined with cardboard hills and mountains, with a few painted trees. There were hanging clouds and stars, and across the top of the stage was a banner. Digs moved to get a better view. The banner read 'The Weasel's Playpen, starring Digs the Weasel and Arctic the Wolf!'

"Arctic, do you recognize this place?"