[A/N] Here is a story idea I had last year. For now it is a short little excerpt from a single character's point of view. Other POVs will be coming in further installments. This does not in anyway tie back to my main story but is simply an idea I wanted to write about.


Chapter 7 - The Wall - Part 1

Nick casually strolled along the length of the stone wall. It was early evening and the sun was barely more than a faint line on the horizon, yet with his night vision he was able to clearly make out every rough stone and broken brick that had been used to build the wall. Even after it's hasty construction it had still stood, an impenetrable barrier for more than thirty years.

The wall was more than a barrier to separate one quarter of the city, it was also a symbol to hold back all the vicious predators from the rest of the world. At four meters tall, the wall was more than unassailable to the short fox as well as many of his fellow predators. Razor wire topped its entire length, discouraging even the most hardy of climbing predators from trying to cross.

Hardly anyone he knew remembered why the wall was built. It was there when his mother was young, and he had heard from an elderly cheetah that it was the predators in charge who built it to keep the rest of the world out.

He claimed that prey could not be trusted. They stole our bread and our jobs. The Hoof of Oppression had been shouted loudly in the streets when he was small and he vaguely remembered the protests in the streets. But now, the only oppression he ever saw came from the soldiers with the guns.

Soldiers patrolled the wall everyday and the streets at night. They wouldn't take kindly to any mammals they found this close to the wall. Mammals that got on the wrong side of the soldiers were never heard from again.

Nick was out an hour past curfew, but he knew all the patrol routes on this side of town. Besides he could see better in the dark than any of those dumb soldiers. They couldn't go anywhere without their precious torches or flood lights shining in his eyes. It was only too easy to avoid those bumbling fools.

The fox crept past a particularly well lit section of the wall. Here it ran past an old brick building that had crumbled years ago and no one had bothered to clean up the mess. They simply built the wall straight through it's gutted remains and left the rest to fall. Years of disrepair left the building nothing more than an unrecognizable pile of rubble. Why the soldiers cared to leave a bright light shining on the pile he would never know, so he simply took a different route and followed darker paths.

A few more blocks and he reached his destination. It was an unremarkable section of wall near the end of a shadow cloaked alley. Nothing stood out from its cold stone face to distinguish this segment from any other. The alley was cold and dirty, exactly like any others of its kind.

No other predator in the city knew of his secret spot and he intended to keep it that way. This was where he met with the enemy. The place where that filthy scoundrel of a red fox actually spoke to the outside world. Where a lowly predator dared to exchange words with the evil, oppressive prey.

It had all started when he was taking a late stroll after closing up the shop. The day had been like any other in his late father's tailor shop. He had suits to prepare and deliveries had been held up again. Soldiers had kicked in his door again, part of regular inspections they always said, but they never paid to have the door repaired. And finally an angry brown bear demanded that his worn out pair of pants be repaired immediately.

Every day had been the same for the young business fox since his father vanished, leaving him to run the store and mend the suits. His sisters helped where they could, but now they were all married off and had their own families to support. Nick took a deep breath and did his best to lock the door that barely hung on it's hinges. "Don't make waves," he muttered to himself. "Don't let them see that they get to you."

His quiet, brooding stroll brought him past the wall and he had followed it until the sun had almost set. Curfew was almost up and the soldiers would soon be heading out on patrol. He turned to head home when his paw tripped over a loose rock. Grabbing the rock in anger, he almost threw it down the nearby alley to vent his frustration.

This rock seemed strange sitting in his paw. A small bit of packing twine was tightly attached to it. He turned the rock over and in the waning light he noticed a small note had been delicately tied to it with a quaint little bow.

Untying the note, he unfolded it and read the contents. Written in a firm clear paw was one simple question, "What is life like on the other side?"

Shoving the rock and it's note into his pocket he quickly ran home and left it sitting on the kitchen table. For days he sat alone with his dinner and stared at the note. He dared not touch it for fear of what it might mean. Someone on the other side was trying to make contact. A prey mammal wanted to know what it was like to be a predator.

There was no way that this could be true! Prey feared predators, they always had. They were the reason for the wall, this whole damn city was their fault. He nearly threw the note away in that instant, but something changed his mind when he touched the crinkled parchment. This was his chance to finally ask them, "Why?"

Curiosity overcame the fox and he scrawled out a quick note and did his best to secure it to the rock. He tossed the rock, with his note, over the wall that very night. It was easy to sneak past the soldiers, and he quickly ran back home with his heart beating loudly in his chest. Nearly a week passed before the rock returned with more questions than answers.

Over the past two years he learned that life was hard for mammals on both sides of the wall. Even with the few notes that they shared he felt like he had become good friends with the mammal on the other side. He had never been friends with prey since he had never had the chance to meet one before. Everyone said that prey were evil tyrants, but what he read in the notes couldn't have been more different than the propaganda he grew up with.

Tonight, he pulled his latest note from his pocket and began to hunt for the rock. It was the right day and the rock was never very far from the wall. In the beginning the notes came irregularly, sometimes going months between drops, but now they had a schedule. On a specific night of the week he would find the rock along this section of the wall.

After turning around for the third time he spotted it sitting alone against the wall. The note tied to the rock kept it from rolling over and it was perched precariously on it's side where it had landed.

In the dark, he quickly untied the delicate bow and unfolded the tiny sheet of stiff paper. His heart was pounding in his chest as he read the words scrawled in that same stead paw as all the others.

My family is doing fine.

Little Timmy is gone. He didn't suffer much, but he asked me to eat his share of cabbage after he was gone. I didn't cry when he left us. He is with nature now and will be able to play in the sun till the end of days.

Gramps is as grumpy as ever and still swears that the upstairs is haunted. He just refuses to believe that we let the Biggs move in all those years ago.

Sandy is reading now and I caught her in the drawer where I've saved all your notes. She is still too young to know about the other side yet, so I try to keep her from getting into them. Someday we will tell her, but not today.

Jake got another rejection notice from college and he has been acting out again. If dad finds out that he has joined a gang he is going to flip. And I don't want to be anywhere nearby when that happens.

Well that's all for now,

-J-

He read the letter through twice without so much as twitching an eye. Life really wasn't any better on the other side. It was hard for all the mammals in this city, predator and prey.

When he got to the end, he was shocked to see the letter "J" at the bottom. This mysterious author had never left their initials before and he stared at it for several minutes wondering what it ment.

It ment, that he had to fix his own letter. The hour was too late to quickly run back home and grab his pen so he poked at his palm with a sharp claw. Once a small drop of blood appeared he quickly scribbled a large "N" at the bottom of his letter before folding it up again.

Fumbling, he tied the crudely folded paper to the waiting rock. Jay, or whoever they were could tie a much better knot than him. Nick was a tailor and quite skilled with his paws yet his friend from the other side must have had dainty, slender paws. Their knots and paper folds were always much more elegant than his.

Once the note was attached securely to the rock, he snuck back into the alley. He took a deep breath and began to run directly at the wall. Before his muzzle smashing into the rough brick surface, he jumped straight up. Scrambling his claws scraped at some loose rocks and he was able to gain a bit more height.

Nearing the peak of his climb he tossed the rock straight up into the darkness above the wall. Seconds later he heard it clatter to the paved ground on the other side. His own fall was not so loud as he fell to land on silent paws with a soft, "Oof."

Having delivered the note he returned to the dark alley and slowly slunk back to his home, stopping along the way to avoid the noisy patrols.