"[The blood was delicious and hot. I -hhh- ground my teeth, happy to have 'succeeded' in -hhh- in my drug-induced 'mission.']" The moment was hot in my memory. My story was almost done, and this - the most traumatic part - the most difficult part to talk about - made my heart race and I felt my cheeks flush. Nowhere to sweat, I was panting as I spoke.

"[And then Nick -hhh- was scratching me and my sensitive nose. -hhh- Biting. -hhh- Drawing MY blood. -hhh- Crushing MY nose and ear, -hhh- gouging my left EYE! -hhh- I was like: /What was HIS problem? -hhh- Was it HIS kill?/]"

"[/Well, fine. I'd done what I came to do. -hhh- I didn't need this crap./]"

"[So I left.-hhh- ]"

"[In the end, -hhh- I was far too good at avoiding the authorities, -hhh- and wasn't cured -hhh- until days after everything had -hhh- settled down.]"

"[After I'd killed -hhh- and ate -hhh- two -hhh- other -hhh- -hhh- -hhh- mammals...]" I took a deep breath around my panting, and screwed up the courage to look around me, tears welling up in my eyes.

It was weeks after I'd been caught and cured. A lean lion called Jennifer was right next to me and put a paw on my shoulder, nodding. Tigers, bears, a wolverine, Emmet, and a few other predators all sat around a circle, with a great big Walrus I named Phil directing the discussion.

Phil said, "[Thank you, Arthur, for sharing.]" He gestured with his massive flipper hands. "[As we all know, that's about par for the course (as it were) for predators under the Night Howler drug's influence. Most victims had made a victim or two of their own before being caught.]"

There were various murmuring assents and contrite words of support. He was right. The death toll reached around 30, half at the hands of the predators around this circle. During capture or their fights with prey, 3 of those 30 dead bodies were other predators.

I looked over to Emmet. He was doing better, but I was right, and his little scene wasn't as happy as the original movie's was. Emmet had swallowed a few mice before being caught, and that weighed on Mrs. Otterton so much she couldn't look at him for weeks.

Somehow, my eye wasn't irreparably damaged. Just gave me some permanent blurred vision in that eye, requiring glasses.

Again. I hadn't worn glasses since I was a Human.

It was weeks later during therapy with several of my fellow night howler predator victims that I met Jennifer. She was a thin and wiry. Her intended victim (a boar) had managed to break her right leg. So, in addition to talk therapy she needed physical therapy too.

We hung out together, chat, and groomed each other. She's the one that told me about "Concern Stalking." That's what they called what that tiger did for the ox all those weeks ago.

Oh. and whenever someone brought up the whole "human knowing the future" stuff I'd ranted about, I passed it off as being hit with an experimental version of the drug that drove me loopy.

I never remembered how Judy's leg got injured in the movie, but at some point, I learned how to properly pronounce Bellweather's name. But since I didn't think she deserved my attention, I promptly forgot it again, and only referred to her "Bellweather" in English.

Phil continued the conversation, asking questions of me and the other predators, working through what we'd done and how we cope every day since.

There was coffee and donuts, and I talked with Jennifer about another grooming session.

After the session, I took a walk and eventually found myself on a park bench overlooking a lake. This time taking in the sights of nature, not mammals. I sighed, and looked up at the sky.

"You know, if this WERE fiction... if this were, like, some 'Total Recall' deal where this is all just a memory implanted in my brain, I gotta say - kudos." I chuckled, sun warming my fur and my grass-gripping toes. "Good job. You had me going there, totally buying the whole thing. Forgot everything about how I got here, completely immersed." I nodded some more, and watched some more mammals walking by. "I grifted Nick Wilde. I bit Judy Hopps. What more can a fan ask for? This was a delicious Stu. Meat, carrots, and all."

Birds chirped. The wind rustled leaves in the trees. My tail drooped sadly at the memory of the lives lost.

The E-

A van from one of their many shell corporations with a cheery comic sans "Hello Macaroni!" logo on its side was parked down the block. Black colored, fully armed and armored bovines drug an unconscious brown wolf from the bench near the lake and into it quickly and efficiently.

Jack was watching from his vantage point, having just packed up the tranq gun. He was on the cell phone, in full suit with sunglasses. "Yes sir. I know, sir. ETA 20 minutes. Right. Over and out." He clicked it off, scowled, and looked at the ferret officer stationed with him on the roof. "This one took too long to track down. Longer than the higher ups liked."

He'd brought too much backup. The brown wolf had gone down without a fight. The officer next to him hefted his back-up tranq gun and said, "I heard about these. What's the procedure? Debrief, amnesiacs, and release?"

The rabbit shook his head. "Trans dimensional traveler. Amnesiacs would just erase what he's learned of our world. Wouldn't make him eligible for release. He isn't some random mammal that saw something odd we have to erase." Jack raised his glasses and considered the scene. The doors swung shut on the van, hiding Arthur Jeremy Pearson (former human from Earth) from view.

"So no amnesiacs."

"Nope." Jack put his glasses back down. "And what do we do with things we can't release, soldier?" Shrugging, the ferret said three words matter-of-factly:

"Secure. Contain. Protect."