It's silent.

All Sheri can hear is her own panting, quick shallow breaths that never fill her lungs. The raccoon's trembling in fear so badly that she's barely able to stay crouched. Still, she's unwilling to move from her hiding place behind to the counter. Snarlbucks should be safe. It's always been a haven, a place for the procyon to lose herself in the fast pace of work.

Now...now it's a killing field. The demons Mama Ringtail preached about the young female's entire kithood had visited her store. The smell of blood and sulfur fills the air, burning Sheri's nose. Her shaking paws try desperately to hold onto the lip of the counter, in the vain hope that it'll keep her tethered to reality and not into the hellscape surrounding her. The worst is the silence. It shouldn't be this quiet! The procyon's ears continue to search for any noise...but there's nothing.

Finally, Sheri can't take the suspense any longer. She needs to move! To see what is just on the other side, waiting for her. The raccoon slowly pokes her head above the counter, only to be met with amber.

Officer Wolford...Ralph...is staring back at her with his muzzle agape and tongue hanging out. The Wolf is stretched out across the top of the counter, paws close to her edge as if to crawl over. His dead eyes showing none of the vibrancy and mirth that they normally hold. In between his unblinking gaze is a large circular hole, oozing dark red liquid and bone white flecks. Before Sheri can move, Ralph speaks.

"Bang," he rasps, tongue curling up and into his muzzle as his eyes roll to the back of his head, "Bang!"

Sheri screams, pushing off the counter and falling backwards. She stares at the terrifying sight of the Wolf's paws grasping the her end of the counter and pulling himself over. He continues to speak, his voice never above a whisper, at the procyon. Blood and brain matter leak from his skull with each erratic move. The raccoon scrambles to her paws and darts away from the dead officer, just missing an open paw aimed at her.

She's crying now, blindly making her way through the once familiar Snarlbucks. The raccoon runs into something. It's large, hard, and furry. Sheri opens her eyes wide as she sees a blue pant leg stained red. The procyon follows the leg up to the towering figure.

Officer Nadine Fangmeyer stands tall in front of the smaller mammal. Her normally clean uniform riddled with small, red once proud tiger's hazel eyes hang from their sockets. She sways back and forth, black ooze dripping from her holes, as she reaches a bloody paw for the raccoon.

"Bang," she breathes, "Bang."

Sheri ducks under the massive paw and rushes through the legs of the feline. The sway of the tiger's twisted tail just misses grazing the top of the raccoon's head as she sprints away from the horror. The procyon's frantic sobbing is the only sound, not even her steps echoing in the darkness. Finally, as what feels like an eternity of running, the female doubles over in exhaustion.

The clack of hooves along the tile catch the raccoon's attention. Sheri whimpers, pinching her eyes close and shaking her head. "No more!" she sobs, "No more please!" The sound stops. A ragged breath tickles the fur of her ear. "Leave me alone!" Another breath. The procyon shakes her head slowly, "No...no...no…" Sheri finally opens her eyes.

Karl is standing in front of her in gruesome condition. Half of his head gone, with only a single horn and ear on the top. The gazelle's tongue hang out where his jaw was missing, and his only eye focuses on the smaller mammal. The left side of the herbivore is dyed a deep red all the way to his knee. He points a hoof behind the raccoon. Sheri reluctantly turns.

A figure in a red hoodie is behind her, malicious grin shining underneath the hood. It raises a large, metal gun and points it at the raccoon. The figure pulls the trigger.

Bang

Sheri startled awake, trembling and gripping the pillow her head was resting on tighter. She froze when the pillow shifted. A blunt claw scratched behind her ear in a way only one mammal knew how to do. The procyon let out a heavy sigh, realizing who her pillow was. "How long was I out?"

"Half hour tops," Reggie answered, continuing to scratch behind the procyon's ear, "I didn't want to wake you."

Sheri shifted again, turning towards the television. It was on, but silent, with the mustela apparently muting the news while she snoozed. "I normally not so tired," mumbled the raccoon, feeling her eyes grow heavy once more, "Maybe I need some coffee…"

"It's the nightmares," supplied the Weasel bluntly.

The female was mid-yawn when the male spoke, but her muzzle hung open in shock. Sheri hadn't told Reggie about her nightmares. The procyon didn't want to worry the mustela, and assumed they would go away on their own. They hadn't. In fact, they worsened. The raccoon turned to look at her boyfriend suspiciously, "How did…"

Reggie glanced away from the television and gave his girlfriend a knowing look. "I'm a light sleeper, and am up earlier than you." He turned back to the TV, "Plus you talk in your sleep."

Sheri scoffed, "I do not!"

The Weasel grinned, "You have some interesting dreams...but not recently." He ran his claws through the fur on the raccoon's cheek gingerly as his expression turned serious. "You scream." The procyon flinched. "This time you didn't, but you toss and turn more now."

The raccoon frowned. She didn't realize it had gotten that bad. Sure some nights were worse than others, and now she drank coffee more out of necessity rather than pleasure, but she could still control it. She sighed and turned back towards the television, "It's nothing. I'm fine."

Reggie snorted, "If I said that, you'd personally hold my tail over the fire." The mustela stretched over her and grabbed her fluffy appendage from behind her. "Should I get some coals ready?" He flicked the tip of her tail back and forth.

Sheri giggled. She couldn't help it when the normally serious Weasel did something ridiculous. She swatted behind her at the mustela's paw, "Leave my poor tail out of this!"

"Not until you talk to me." Reggie teased, bringing the tip to tickle the procyon's nose.

The raccoon laughed, trying in vain to stop the ticklish assault. She rolled off the couch, her tail escaping the Weasel's grasp, and landed on her back on the carpet. Sheri's mirth continued, pointing a digit at her smirking boyfriend. "No fair!"

He shrugged, "I can't help it."

Sheri chuckled as she slowly stood, making sure to keep her furry appendage away from the tricky mustela. Her mirth eventually died down while she was doubled over and staring at the floor. "I can't stop thinking about it..." admitted the raccoon quietly, staring unblinking at the floor, "...and I'm still scared to go back!"

Reggie groaned. "Come here." Sheri glanced up, seeing the Weasel standing with his arms open and outstretched. He motioned for the raccoon, "Get a hug."

The procyon didn't need any convincing, removing the distance between the couple and embracing the Weasel. She bent down and rested her head on his shoulder, swaying back and forth with the mustela. They only danced once, yet whenever Reggie held her, he would sway. Sheri sniffed, burying her face deeper into his neck, "I'm so weak…"

"No." the mustela soothed, "You're the strongest mammal I ever met." He ran a paw up and down her arm.

The raccoon chuckled mirthlessly, "Then why do I keep having these nightmares? Why am I nervous in the store? It's been close to a month now, and I still shake when I have to lock up at night!"

"Because you're a mammal," Reggie countered softly, "Just like everyone else."

"It doesn't make it any better," Sheri grumbled.

"Sher," Reggie started with a sigh "take it from someone who has some experience in this department. It won't get better right away, but eventually it'll just...be ok."

The raccoon sniffed and straightened up with a frown, "That doesn't make any sense."

The Weasel smiled apologetically and shrugged. "I know...but it's the truth...just, uh, talk to me about stuff."

Sheri scoffed and rolled her eyes, "Talk about feelings with you?"

Reggie scowled, "Alright forget I offered."

"No, no, no!" exclaimed the procyon, waving her paws between them, "It's just...well…" The female hesitated, glancing between the floor and her boyfriend nervously, "You're not the most...sharey...mammal."

"Funny thing is my girlfriend keeps trying to change that," replied the Weasel, "So I thought I'd give it a try." He grasped her paws with both of his, "Mind giving me some practice?"

Sheri smiled, tears forming in the corner of her eye. She nodded, "Yeah...ok...but I need something else."

A brow rose on the Weasel, "Another hug?"

The raccoon giggled, "Yes! But also a drink. Something warm and sweet."

Reggie released the procyon, "I think we have a hot chocolate packet around here somewhere."

As the Weasel headed for kitchen, Sheri began to feel nervous. It's one thing for Reggie to talk about things with her, but they didn't have much practice the other way around. She closed her eyes and breathed in and out slowly. They could do this. The raccoon cleared her throat, "Hey Regg?"

"Hmm?" the mustela answered while searching for the elusive hot chocolate packets.

"I just wanna say that...I really do love you."

Reggie peaked around a cupboard door. He smiled that small, soft way that made the raccoon's heart melt. "I really love you too."

Sheri smiled brightly, caution for their discussion blown away by the Weasel's openness. Sometimes, the raccoon forgot how much they had grown. Little moments like this used to take coercion from the procyon. Her poor mustela too shy to express himself. Now though, when Sheri was at her most vulnerable, Reggie stepped up and supported her fully. Even though it would take time, the female believed what her cutie told her. It would take time...but eventually she'd be ok.

And they'd always be ok.

Hello Readers,

It's been awhile since I've done an OW chapter since A Wolf's Song takes most of my attention. I have another one in the works, but I'm not sure when that'll be uploaded. Let me know what you think!

-CG