Francisco plopped down on his computer chair. He stared dumbly at the black screen. Riding back, he thought his mind would be buzzing. He thought he would be doing a lot of thinking once at home. Instead, he was exhausted. Overwhelmed.

Had he been foolish to give any credence to the worries of the predators back at the tavern? "Taming collars." They sounded bad, but they could be so many things, could they not?

Although if they really were working with the city government to develop them...

Maybe they were for the predators that were already foregone: the 'savages.' Mayor Bellwether was in charge now, and she seemed level-headed enough.

Though looks could be deceiving. Her history could have set her up to hold a grudge against predators. She and Leodore Lionheart had been bitter rivals in the Populist party mayoral primaries. Unsurprisingly, she had lost against him. How seriously could voters take a two foot tall sheep, especially juxtaposed with a big, majestic lion?

The press had hailed a reconciliation when she was appointed Assistant Mayor, but maybe she was still bitter about the loss.

Frank groaned. It was all too much to take in. He needed sleep.

He would research AniTech in the morning. He pushed himself out from his chair.

He took his cellphone out of his pocket. Left to his own devices, he would probably sleep sixteen hours with the weight of the day. But he wanted plenty of time conscious, to do his research and reconsider his decision to meet with the other predators.

He set his phone alarm for 9:00am...no, 9:30am...10:00am, and then placed it by his pillow.

He was not even going to bother with pajamas. He just stripped himself down to his boxers and an undershirt, and piled into the covers.

Lying down, his mind stirred over everything. Taming collars. Mayor Bellwether. Rudy Wolfowitz. Original sin.