COLIN

I like running. Love it, actually. There's something about the immediacy of it, the continual pulse and athletic motivation, that just makes me want to keep going. When I'm this close to finishing a run or completing a reconnaissance mission, all I care about is that underlying, physical burn. It hurts because it's real, and for those precious few moments I can forget the war and all the misery and suffering. The instant I cross the finish line, it's about me.

I'm sixteen. It's almost autumn, and the gang and I are lacing up to go on our morning practice run through the Great Forest. Tonight we're going to be meeting with the Wolf Pack and the southern and eastern Freedom regiments to formulate a strategy for taking out the Doomsday Project. We need to be in top form if we plan to pull this off. In fact, this is probably the most crucial mission in the history of the rebellion.

To the left of me, Allison is doing her regular stretching exercises. She has a hell of a body to tell you the truth. Athletically, I mean. Great legs... although for a runner, that sort of goes without saying. She's a rabbit, too, so I guess running is in her blood. She's beautiful and confident. Nice eyes, fabulous hair. I'd totally go for her if I weren't gay.

Well, alright, and there's the teensy fact that I'm technically already seeing somebody. Sigh. Taylor and I are fine, though -- really. I mean, sure, we've been arguing a little bit lately, but that's to be expected when you're in the middle of a war, right? Each of us has our part to play, and as soon as it's over, we'll be able to spend more time together. It's a shame we have to grow up eventually, but that's life. We're not kids anymore.

To my right is Dan, a cheetah. You'd think he'd be faster than the rest of us because of that alone, but he's only the third fastest of the four of us (I'm fourth, in case you were wondering). He's already finished warming up; now he's meditating. He goes through these sorts of rituals every day. Whatever works, I guess. He has this zen-like approach when it comes to anything athletic -- some shit about "unifying the mind and body." Personally, I like to just get out there and run. But hey, maybe that's why I'm the slowest, so what do I know.

Just ahead of me is Sonic, sitting next to the ring pool. I've noticed that he's been low on energy for the last several days. He'll crack jokes occasionally, as usual, but it somehow seems artificial now -- like he's just doing it to keep the rest of us optimistic. Like he's hiding something. I guess all this war stuff is finally wearing him down.

There's a slight breeze this morning. I can see it running softly over Sonic's quills. Sitting on the grass, he puts his hands behind him and leans back into the sunlight. His eyes are closed. I think I'm the only one watching him right now.

Sometimes I wonder if he's really got a thing for the princess, or if that's just an act too. Sometimes I can picture us together, running side by side through Robotropolis. We make it to the forest and manage to escape our pursuers. We drop to our knees, exhausted, catching our breath. Shards of broken moonlight are raining from the canopy above us, and we look at each other in mutual, unspoken admiration. He leans towards me and draws me into a tight embrace.

The instant before we kiss is when I always wake up. Today it's in a mirrored prison cell.

LISA

I have this habit of collecting boyfriends who aren't any good for me. Our relationships are hot and sexy at first, but they always turn out to be superficial. I guess I shouldn't complain; it's not like they mistreat me or anything. It's just that I'm like a fashion accessory to them. We look good together and I fill a social role for them and that's about it. Quite honestly, I'm looking for something deeper than that. I want someone who can relate to me -- who can be there for me emotionally when I need him. Someone who can make me laugh. I need a companion. Without the stuff that counts, sex is just sex.

I'm in the shower now. My third one today, actually; it's a great way to unwind. The process is almost ritualistic at this point. I close my eyes and let the warm jetstreams of water massage my shoulders and soak into my fur. After rinsing my hair, I work up a lather with the shampoo that I found on a shelf over the sink. God, I could just melt in here. Before a few days ago, I can't remember the last time I took a hot shower. In Knothole, of course, we bathe using buckets of water from the nearby reservoir. Colin might have been joking, but he's right: in some ways, this prison is actually an improvement for us.

Colin. I promised myself I'd stop thinking about Colin -- or at least thinking about him like that. He's awfully cute, though. Adorable, even. He's funny, he's charming, he's attractive. Talkative. Sensitive.

Unavailable. Gay.

How do I get myself into these situations?

I turn up the hot water gradually. For the sake of curiosity, I allow myself to imagine what it might be like if Colin were attracted to me. I'll bet his kisses are soft and passionate -- not shallow or greedy like other men. I envy his boyfriend. As the delicate lather in my hair washes down my shoulders and lower, I imagine that Colin is inside the shower with me. I touch my cheek, tracing a path down my neck and across my breasts, cupping gently underneath them as though he's touching me. He's drawing closer now. His fingers cross my lips. We draw together in a deep, breathless kiss.

I snap out of it and turn the water off just in time. Just a little daydream, that's all. I'm not attracted to him. Really.

COLIN

She's getting dressed in front of me. No kidding. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she's doing it to be provocative. Out of respect, I turn and face the other direction -- although the mirrors make it a little difficult not to see anything. "Sorry," I say.

"Oh no, don't worry, you're fine."

"Okay…"

"Am I making you uncomfortable?"

"No! I mean… no. Go right ahead."

"Because, you know, I can get dressed in the bathroom if you want."

"No no no, this is fine. Just fine. I won't look, I promise."

That's a lie. I can't help myself. I take a brief peek at the mirror in front of me, and I catch her at the very moment she drops her towel onto the floor. Yikes. She's completely naked now. She's in good shape, too. I have to admit, she doesn't look bad with her clothes off. Her fur is dark, which makes her eyes really stand out (and I can see that she's not looking at me, thank goodness). Her breasts are uniform and reasonably well-shaped -- prominent, but not too big, and just perky enough to give them character. Her body is slender but it curves in all the right places. I like her shoulders; she carries herself well. Come to think of it, this is probably the first time I've seen a naked woman in person. At least in this context, anyway.

After my fleeting glimpse, I quickly look down again. The last thing I want is for her to think that I'm leering at her. Or, worse yet, attracted to her. Which I'm not, of course. I don't swing that way. Really.

LISA

I think he snuck a little peak at me, but I can't be sure. Maybe it's just wishful thinking. I'm dressed now, anyway. Time for bed.

I glance over at Colin. He's already asleep. He's still on top of the covers, but I'm sure whoever enters our room at night will take care of that. His limbs are all tangled and he has the cutest expression on his face -- like a cross between a smirk and a grin, with his tongue sort of sticking out. On the opposite side of the glass, his boyfriend is curled up to him peacefully.

As I slip underneath the covers, I can already feel my eyelids getting heavy. The lights in the cell begin dimming almost immediately, which I've never really noticed before. I guess I've never stayed awake long enough to see it. My head finds the pillow and I snuggle myself into a comfortable position. Gradually, I let my eyelids drop.

COLIN

I'm sixteen. Taylor is fifteen and a half. We're making love to each other for the first time. It's really a sad experiment, since neither of us is sure exactly how we should go about it, but after a few laughs and some mutual coaching, we allow instinct to kick in. Before long we're on cruise control, and it's the most intense thing ever. I'm overcome with a rush of emotion. Just as the wave hits, I press my cheek against his and whisper to him, "I love you, Taylor." And I mean it.

He doesn't hear me, though, because of the waterfall.