Zhear hoped he was experiencing another nightmare.

He remembered little. The little things he did recall was the slash on across his face, the dried blood on his neck, and the sore limbs from his tree laps last night. Now, with a new wound on his leg and the sensation of a scarred back with continuous was what had awaken him. He was already lightheaded from loss of blood, he was slipping in and out consciousness, and everything seemed wrong.

Zhear tried to look up, but he slowly realized that the reason for his discomfort was because his body was being dragged. He was pulled and tugged over the rough ground, rocks and pebbles scratching against the back of his head and made another attempt to observe what was latched onto his foot, more curious than in actual pain. His attempt failed, and his head slammed back to the moving ground.

Everything felt slow and uncomfortable. He wanted to believe that he was living in yet another one of his nightmares, but the overwhelming pain from the dragging and the extremely sore gash on his face shattered his hopes.

Zhear laid back again, fully awake. He took a deep breath and stretched out his arm. The Sneasel then grabbed the side of his leg and used his upper body to push himself upwards. This time, he was able to look over his lifted legs and see who or what had gotten a hold of movement backfired. His blood rushed and immediately he lost his hearing and vision as soon as he took a breath. He could only see the menacing black eyes of his captor before instantly falling back into his forced slumber.

His next awakening was a little more pleasant.

He was lying still on a cold wet floor. A much more relaxing position than before, and less painful.

Zhear groaned as he tried to move to his feet. It was dark, wherever he was, and his eyes had yet to adjust to the change in his environment. Everything was changing at once when Zhear thought about it, he was trying to bring his senses back into focus while he remembered that the last thing he had done was walk into his tent back at camp.

'Was this what they do to the failures?' Zhear thought 'Drag them while they sleep at the dead of night and dispose of them with no one to notice?'

His mind started to fill with panic and paranoia, thoughts of how his life would end here and now. How he would have to live out the remainder of his time in a dark cold place with no one to see or hear. The Sneasel started to hyperventilate, and he swung his claws around, hoping to touch something in this pitch black room.

He started to jabber incoherent words of fright. He was still trying to regain control of himself, so his words were slurred and unrecognizable.

Just as he was about to scream from the confusion, he could hear the faint sound of something stirring near him. It was something moving on the damp surface of the rock floor.

Zhear, still terrified, slowly looked over to the side. He couldn't see or notice anything in the darkness, but he was sure he could hear the sound of someone or something scratching against the scared Sneasel ceased his whimpering, he went completely still beside the shaking of his hands. He quickly wrapped his arms around him, trying to give him a sense of protection.

He didn't know if the origin of this noise was harmful to him or not. Zhear knew nothing about these recent events, if anything, whatever was approaching was probably going to end him. But he grew ill of confusion, and he felt the need to show to whoever put him that he wasn't afraid.

But all his fears washed away when the soothing voice of another Sneasel reached his ears.

"...Scar-face? You're alive!?"

"I managed to get four of them before a Weavile saw me."

"You mean three and one other? I only saw three Sneasels in your haul."

"Hm? Oh, I found the Eevee along the way back… I got hungry and helped myself to one of my catches, so I hunted down the fox to compensate."

"Where did you find the Eevee? That species doesn't roam these parts anymore."

"He wasn't too far from the camp, he might have strayed off from one the travelers I guess… either way, I didn't catch scent of anymore."

"Pity… we could've made use of those foxes."

"How so? They're small, and without any of their special stones, they're not very filling."

"...Think about it Fray, can you not see how few in numbers we are?"

"..."

"..."

"You have one sick mind, Crimson, our pack wouldn't survive without it."

"Flattery won't get you anywhere."

"Not even an extra helping?"

"Depends on how the Eevee is later on."

"I'll see to that then."

"So what about the Sneasels? You didn't bring any sick ones like Maverick did, did you?"

"What? No!… well."

"..."

"Hey! Don't growl at me! I didn't see the Weavile until I was already inside the next tent and I was rushing it already. I was low in numbers so I grabbed whatever I could get my jaw around."

"And?"

"The last Sneasel is a little.. weak. Big slash across the face, the fool was sleeping in his own blood…. kinda cool now that I think about it."

"Is he dead?"

"I almost mistaken him to be. But honestly, it was all that blood that distracted the Weaviles. The odor was so heavy that my own scent was covered. They had no way of finding me."

"I see."

"Anyway, no, he is very much alive.I threw him in the same room with the other two Sneasels. I think the female has been tending to his wounds… ha ha… She has no earthly idea, does she?"

"Did they see you devour their friend?"

"The third did, not the scarred one or the pink Sneasel."

"Pink!?"

"Yeah, I assumed she was a female because of her color."

"..."

"What?"

"This changes things. Your haul is more valuable than you think."

"Oh really?"

"Tell the others that your catch is off limits, I have to see this for myself."

"What should I tell them? It's almost meal time you know."

"Let them eat your brother's catch instead. At Least he brought in a Mamoswine."

"Oh, very funny. Fine, I'll let them know… can I ask you something?"

"Hm?"

"Does this mean I won't be eating the Sneasels?"

"No, an Eevee, a blood drenched Sneasel, and a pink Sneasel? Your haul will be used for more than just dinner."

"What about the third one?"

"Hmph… you can have that one to yourself. Think of it as part of your reward for the catch."

"Scar-Face?" Zhear asked, stuttering. His fear, however, was slowly diminishing. He squinted to try a gain sight of the one who spoke to him from the darkness.

"Oh...that isn't your name? Your messed up face said otherwise."

Zhear growled. 'Wasn't my fault' He said to himself. 'My Tribe hates my guts.' Then it dawned on him.

"Are you… from the Tribe?" He asked quietly, and hopefully.

There a painful moment of silence, Zhear almost thought he had lost the voice coming from the darkness. He sighed in defeat after a few more seconds of no reply. He eased his paws downwards and lowered himself as well. He tried to get a feel if there was anything behind him. Everywhere he looked it was black.

Suddenly, a pair of claws grabbed his arm.

Instinctively, he flinched. Zhear jerked back, it was unnatural to him, anytime he was touched it was the usual beat down or push. The voice came back.

"Calm yourself Scar!" She yelled. "You act like I'm gonna beat you or something."

"Well… that is the usual occurrence for me." He muttered. Still trying to resist her hold.

"Easy, easy…" She continued in a more calming tone. "I had to wrap the bandage around your eyes in order for it to help the injury on your face. So you can't really see… especially since the wrappings are drenched in your blood."

Zhear reached up to his face, and sure enough, he felt the wet cloth that she described, right where his eyes are. He panicked again.

"Am I... blind?"

"Are you stupid? Its just a bandage for your wound." She huffed. "As long as I'm around you should be fine."

"...Th-...thanks…" Zhear whispered, still unsure of his new companion.

He couldn't see it, but he could just feel her gaze upon him, as though she was either looking for further injuries or deciding if he was truly grateful. In the end, the replied he received was a shove to the ground.

Zhear grunted in pain, his limbs still sore, he struggled in her grasp as the unseen Sneasel forcefully held him down with her arm.

"What are you-"

"Shut it!" She muttered. "Just keep quiet and still if you want to live."

Her words told Zhear just the opposite. His fear of the unknown returned rose, and when he decided to listen and calm down his breaths, he could hear something besides the shuffling of rocks beside him.

It was foot steps… or paw steps. Someone, not to far away, was walking not too far away from them. The noise got closer, and Zhear could make out the sound of two, four legged, beings making their way to the right of where he and the other Sneasel laid.

They were getting closer… and Zhear could hear his heart thumping against his chest. Due to his fear, he was expecting the approaching strangers to hear his heart as well.

"There they are… the two you had interest in anyway."

"...Hm… They're so sweet, sleeping beside each other."

Zhear, even being the Sneasel he was, could feel the chills crawling down his spine. The voice of this animal was between the levels of demonic and calm. A combination that Zhear that made him thankful for the blindfold, preventing him from laying sight on whatever it was that only stood a short ways away from him.

"So, what's so special about the female?"

Zhear could feel his caretaker flinched from the reference of her. This didn't help the relief of his fear.

"She's different, if we do this right, we can finally solve our current issue with our enemy."

"I don't see how that would work-"

"Take them both to the holding cell beneath my den."

"I thought you said you didn't plan on eating them?"

Both Zhear and his new companion almost made a small sound of horror when they heard the second stranger's words.

"I don't, but the rest of the pack is hungry, mustn't tempt them."

"Understood, Crimson."

'Crimson' Zhear thought. 'That's the name I now fear.'

Apparently, the exchange of words was done, and Zhear only heard the sound of one pair of paws leaving the room… or wherever he was.

There then came the sudden unbearable screech of rock grinding against rock. Zhear reacted and shook 'in his sleep' out of the female Sneasel's grasp. Once again, lost in darkness, he relied on his hearing to determine what was happening.

"Settle down runt, and don't try anything… are you blindfolded?" Came the voice from earlier, to Zhear's slight relief, it wasn't Crimson.

"H-He has an eye injury." The female Sneasel stuttered. "I had to wrap his head to stop the bleeding."

"Where did you even get the cloth? Nevermind, you, guide him. You're following me. Try anything, and his eyes won't be the only thing needing a bandage."

Zhear stood still, and then carefully walked forward to their voices. His arm was grabbed again, and he was now at someone else's control again.

"What's happening? What are you?"

In reply, Zhear felt the warm air of the Luxray's breath upon his face. The animal growled to his words.

"From now on, you will refer to me as Cobalt. And if you DARE speak to me as though you own me, I will claim your flesh as mine with my fangs! Now move!"

Zhear felt the other Sneasel's claws guide him away from Cobalt.

"Just keep walking, Scar-Face, and don't say anything. No matter what you smell."

"My name is Zhear."

'Smell? With all of this, how will scent affect me?'

But as he was lead away from where he had awaken, and blindly allowing complete strangers to guide into wherever they pleased, he knew that his previous fears have been replaced by something worse. He wasn't being punished by the Tribe, the Tribe never held such a strong odor of death and decay.