Chapter 9

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"Sure you don't want another biscuit?"

"This one is sufficient, thanks," Kris said, nibbling on the digestive in his paw.

"I do have chocolate covered ones," Dr Amy Lupulelli said, giving a knowing glance back at her desk.

"I'm fine, thank you," her silverfox patient replied, voice just the tiniest bit louder. He took another bite, munching on, as she looked at him and smiled.

"Well, good to know you have your limits and stick to them," she said, flashing him a wink. There was a pause, the silverfox biting down the last part, before she spoke again. "You did very well today."

Kris' ears flagged and he looked away. "I'm… not so sure."

"Okay then, why aren't you?" she asked. "And, more to the point, how could it have gone better?"

"Better?" Kris asked, sparing a glance at her. "I could have kept my composure up for a start, I could have not let him get to me like he did… The judge had to ask me if I needed to pause for a bit. I was emotional…"

Amy looked on, the binturong's long tail sagging as he listed the faults with himself off of one paw, and then the other.

"-I almost messed up, giving him an out, and… -There's a reasonable collection of other stuff I could have improved on."

He looked up at her, and she opened a paw. "And what was the aim of today? What needed to be achieved? If, in the morning, you set out what needed to happen today… What would it have been?"

…

"Kris?"

"Logically," he huffed, "it would be putting in a strong testimony that seriously incriminated Luke Ruta."

"And this day ended with him being forced into a plea deal, didn't it?" She asked, paws out and wide.

"Yes…"

"So?"

"The goals for today were more than achieved," Kris said, rather plainly.

"So that's good news, isn't it!?" Dr Amy said, enthusiastically. "On the thing that mattered, the thing you needed to do, you…"

"-I know," he cut in, tail fur bristling slightly. His tone had been sharp, not severe but strict. He was holding her off with her gaze, before huffing, looking down and then around. "I don't like the idea that you think I can't recognise it."

Dr Amy looked on, thinking for a second. Tread carefully, word what you're trying to say right. "So then," she began, tenderly. "Why do you feel that you can't celebrate that, if you recognise it as such?"

"I thought you were the professionally experienced one to work that out."

She chuckled, smiling. "Okay then, let's work on it together. What exactly do you feel now?"

"Emotionally irritated."

"Uh-hu, anything else?"

He thought for a couple of seconds before responding. "Confused?"

"And when you heard the news that he'd been forced into that position?"

"Good."

"And after leaving the courtroom?"

"A lot of strongly mixed feelings, though it got better with time."

"And what was your low point in there?"

"I…" he began. "Well, I suppose there are two."

She nodded. "Go on."

"The way he… He wasn't scared or worried or trying to look nice or anything," Kris began, paws out. "He acted like he wanted to bully me, and that if he could do so, he'd win. He'd wink, or look, or move in ways that reminded me of what he did and I knew he couldn't hurt me, but it felt like he could. I kept remembering it, even though there was no rational reason for it, I was letting him get to me and not even able to never let him see that. I was still his plaything, and…"

His voice hitched up, hard, his fur raised. Looking around the room, its clinical attempts at coziness and homeliness failing in abject, he felt exposed. Alone. He…

He saw the binturong, paws out wide, offering a hug.

And he remembered exactly what Ash would have said to him right now.

He walked over and let her hold him tight for a second.

"Feeling better?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied.

"And why's that?"

"I… Well, it's a hug, and…"

"So no other reason needed," she said, letting him go. "And no reason to overthink it."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "You sound like my cousin."

She chuckled. "I heard he's been standing by you a lot."

"He's very insistent."

"He's a good kit, like you," she said, looking down. "And I think we both know there's a reason why that hare scared you. Why he was able to affect you like that. Why, even though he couldn't get to you, it felt like he could. And I think you're intelligent enough to know that, right?"

"Right," he mumbled.

"Uh-hu," she said. "And can you come to peace with that?"

"Forgive myself?"

"Did you do anything wrong?"

"No," he said, looking down. "I can accept it, then. But, I can't accept that that's the way it's supposed to be, or… -I've got to try and do better, right? I've got to improve. Got to try to recover." He looked up at her. "While I was there, I met someone I met inside."

Dr Amy's eyebrows rose. "Another prisoner."

He nodded. "Armando, this capybara. And he was the one who came in with a kangaroo friend and tried to stop it all from happening. Fight against a wolf, and a bison, and even that hare was taller than him. He got beaten up just as bad as I did, and he knew he'd get it from the start, but…" He let a breath out, shaking his head. "I met him after, he's out on parole. And he was smiling, joking, patting me on the back. He had it just as bad as me, but he's fine. He's good. He recovered, so then why haven't I?"

Nodding along, taking notes, the binturong spoke. "So, did he have his tail clipped down? Did he have someone he cared about threatened? Was he scruffed?"

Kris' eyes narrowed. "I didn't get beaten up like he did."

"You got something different, and I'd say worse. Which you weren't ready for. And, as you said, he knew what was going to happen when he came in, right?"

A silver fox head tilted askew. "Right…?"

"So, in a way, he was ready for it. He accepted it. He knew what was coming, and could prepare himself…"

"So, roll with the punches?"

Dr Lupuleli's eyes lit up. "That's one way of putting it. The point is, you both experienced different things. And even if you didn't, you're both different mammals. You can be hit in the same way, and very different things can occur. Now yes, it is a good thing that you want to heal, get better. But feeling shame for every scar, even as they're still healing? Or comparing yourself to others, who you can't really compare yourself too? That's not going to help you."

"Then what is?" he huffed.

"Make every day a step forward, and look back at where you've been, and…"

"-I have been," he cut in, looking up at her, eyes glistening slightly. "I remember back before. I was calm, everything was in order, I could let all these things slip me by like I was a minnow in a clean mountain stream, and I was happy." He shook his head, standing up and then walking about. "And now? I let this hare's words hurt me and make me scared, and then I decide that I'm going to win against him and buckle down on that. And then I'm unsure, and then I'm happy, or sad, or angry, or scared again, or walking around paws out and talking into an empty room and…" He turned back to face her, eyes glistening. "I don't like what I'm becoming," he said, sitting down, paws coming up and covering his eyes. She moved in to his side, paw stretched out to pull him in, as he sniffed out. "I just want it to go back to how it was before."

She held on and patted his back, letting him inhale and exhale, breathing out the stress for a second or two. Finally, after some time to let himself calm down, she tenderly began again. "Before, were you always like that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well," Dr Amy explained. "Were you always that calm, consistent. One year ago, two, five…"

"For all intents and purposes, yes."

She nodded for a second or two.

"Why?"

"Because," she mused. "You're still a fourteen, coming up on fifteen, year old boy. And boys of that age, often a few younger, can go through some rather large changes. Both in their body, and their mind. And maybe, just maybe, back then your mind was starting to shift, but you were keeping it on track. And then this big thing came along, and it un-stuck it, letting it snap to a new position. Like an earthquake."

"Well how do I get it back?"

She closed her eyes, shaking her head. "Maybe it's not something you need to get back," she said. "Or something you even can. Puberty can be trying for young minds at the best of times with how fast minds and moods can change. And you may well have had two or three years change all at once. And it's going to feel horrible, but the change isn't bad, it's part of a long journey. It can be accepted, lived with, come to terms with and embraced. Roll with the punches, wasn't it?"

"And end up somewhere you don't like?"

"Who's to say this is the final endpoint?"

"I…" Kris began, only to huff. "Who's to say it isn't. Who's to say I won't end up here, grumpy, unhappy, emotionally unstable. Someone no-one can rely on, or…"

"I think mammals can rely on you very easily right now," she said. "I'd trust you."

He looked up at her, only to sigh. "The other worst part in there was when his defense lawyer was speaking. I understand the principle, he has to fight for his client, I could have just as easily been accused and be relying on him. But he found things I'd said, thoughts I didn't recognise I had about Luke and some of the other mammals, and he was spinning them to make it sound like I had a thing against that hare from before we even met. That he was far less guilty than it sounded like, and had just been roped in, something my biases had disguised from me. And I realised I'd messed things up. The way I'd said things, worded them, without thinking… because I was too emotional to think them through… It could have let everyone down. And if that isn't being unreliable, I'm not sure what is!"

"He was just being a devil's advocate for... " she was broken off as Kris chuckled. Dr Amy couldn't help but share a precious smile. "Amused you?"

And then the smile flickered away. "Luke accused him of being that. And he was the one species that could take offense."

"One…" she began to muse, before smiling. "Ooooohhh… Well, if you're worried about letting down your side with some poor wording, then there's someone who really knows how to do it."

"I shouldn't be comparing myself to others," he said, looking up at her, paws crossed. "Should I?"

"Ah, still a sharp one I see," she said enthusiastically. Kris was thrown off base for a second, looking down at the floor and scratching his head, before mumbling out.

"In any case, laughing at something speciesist like that isn't a good sign."

"Hmmmm," Dr Amy mused. "Having worked with a family of Outback Island Devil's for a while, they actually said they preferred their English name over their native Pawlawan one." She smirked. "I suppose purinina doesn't sound nearly as cool, does it?"

"I guess not…"

"So, it was all just a very corny pun. We can all laugh at those."

"Yeah," he said. "The fact he made a mistake doesn't mean I didn't almost let the group down though."

"What did you swear before you talked on that stand?" she asked.

Kris looked up, head tilting. "To tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth…"

"And you did, right?"

"Yes…"

"So, why beat yourself up about doing what you were legally required to do. You did your duty there, just like that lawyer did his."

"And when it gets to facing that serval?" he asked. "She and her lawyers will be far worse, won't they? And she, if she starts talking again? How… how will I act? What happens if I just collapse completely?"

Dr Amy nodded slowly. "They will be. And it will be hard. And they'll try to make you crack, you probably will, but you'll have also prepared and be able to face them stronger than you are now. What will happen will happen," she said. "Don't beat yourself up about it. Accept that this mammal did a terrible thing to you, and there'll be someone there whose job it is to try and make her seem innocent. You'll have a duty to tell the truth, and that's the thing you aim to achieve. The world can be unfair sometimes, hopefully she'll pay but maybe she'll get away. But go in there with that state of mind, accepting it rather than looking for failures with yourself, and it'll be easier."

"Roll with the punches," he said, perking up a bit. "Right?"

She smiled. "Exactly."

They were quiet for a few seconds, before he spoke. "So, what now? What do I do?"

"The trickiest of questions," she mused, her tail coming up, tapping her pen against the side of her chin. "What I'd say is that you have been yanked very far away from where you were. You've been hurt, and it's natural to want to get back to where you were before. But it's made trickier by the fact that, hidden in all this, may well be some natural changes that would be expected of a boy your age." She looked down, concerned. "How's your girlfriend?"

"Agnes?" he asked. "She's been trying to help, but her family had a big holiday booked up. They'll be away for a while, but she promised to help me when I get back."

"How do you feel towards her?" His face scowled up, Dr Amy holding up her paws. "Okay, that crossed the line there. Sorry about that."

"Thank you," he huffed. "I don't like this idea that I have to feel certain ways toward her. Armando kept on talking about this relationship he had with a beaver he met in there, and about how he needed to 'catch up on beaver tail', and he'd wink at me. And that put me off, why does it have to be like that? I mean I know why, but just because I don't go shouting out and winking about it doesn't mean I don't, or am 'Asexual' and can't love anything, or…" He shook his head.

"-For all he talks of getting his beaver tail, does he even care for his beaver? He likes dressing him up and talking about him, but does he truly care whether he's happy or not? Or is he just someone he can take out his urges on… I wouldn't just grab Agnes' tail, I don't want her to feel like I'm pulling her in by that and she has to do what I want, I…" he sniffed. "I don't want to be like Luke to her, like he was to me, acting like he owned it and could just grab and hold it. She doesn't deserve that. She's sweet and pretty, and her tail is too, and it's long and soft and silky and if she asks I'd gently pet it with a brush, and give the odd lick to get out any knots… And I'd care for her and make her feel warm and soft and loved and pretty, I'd stroke her cute little spots on her face and snuggle up to her and be gentle, because I care about her, and she's not just this thing I can boast about like she's some trophy. She's a wonderful vixen who's cute and caring and gentle, and when I tell her a joke she has the little giggle and her tail tip does this tiny little fast paced wag that I love and want to see more of. She's my girlfriend and I love her, I love her so much and when we kiss… and when we eventually do…"

He broke off, tears dripping from his eyes, which looked up wide at Dr Amy. He hid his face down in shame for a second, flinching as he felt a paw on his shoulder, and letting his ears flick up as she softly whispered out.

"Do you know what I heard there?"

There was an embarrassed mumble, completely indecipherable, from the silverfox.

"I hear a young mammal who's definitely in love. Who's sensitive, tender, caring, and who would be about the best boyfriend she could hope for."

"...Thanks…" he said, slowly looking up.

"You're also definitely a teen boy, with all those feelings that come with it. Even if you don't like to admit it."

"Right," he huffed, looking away. "I don't."

…

"I know your cousins are keeping you occupied. Any other's? Friends from school?"

"A lot have pulled away to different holidays and stuff…"

"So later in the summer you'll get to catch up with them."

He looked up at her, ears perking a bit. "I guess, yeah. Apart from Brittany, she's already in the Fire Academy, so will be busy there…"

"Brave girl," Dr Amy nodded, smiling.

"Yeah," he said, tapping his legs. "I don't know if I could cope, keep it together. I… I know you say these mood swings are natural…"

"May well be natural," she clarified.

"Right," he nodded, not sounding so sure. "-And I've been told plenty of times to take the catharsis and live in the moment, and when it works it does feel good. But then there's the times I go down. And I don't like my mind being this yoyo, I don't like feeling not in control, like things could just come crashing down again. You keep saying, roll with the punches, and it sounds easy. Back when I did karate, it was easy. It just doesn't anymore."

Making her notes, Dr Amy paused, looking up. "You know karate?"

Kris looked up blinking. "Yes."

"Have you been practicing it recently?"

He shook his head. "No, it kind of got dropped during the whole move and new family thing. Just haven't had the time to pick it up again."

"Right," she mused, tapping her chin with a tail held pen. "Have you ever thought of trying to pick it up again?"

"No… Why?" he asked. "I'm not sure combat situations would be the best for me now, given what I've been through."

"What do you define as combat situations," Dr Amy replied. "After all, I'm pretty sure your sessions in a dojo were distinctly different to any you faced during your incarceration. Am I right?"

"I…" he began. "The first time against Luke, and one other time, I did use the skills I'd learnt," he agreed, before pausing. "-Two other times… -Three."

"And did they serve you well then?" she asked.

He nodded. That goat had been slapped off quickly on their first confrontation, and the second, big, fight, had had Kris fighting off his ambush successfully. Based on the outcome and objective, he'd won both of those. And the first time Luke had attacked him, the hare had been soundly beaten. And spooking Armando, well, that worked there. "It was only when they chose to stop fighting dirty, and fight as filthy as they could, that it…"

"When they realised you could stand tall against anything they threw against you, but not against what they threw against others," she agreed. "I think you should look into picking it up again."

"How will that help?"

"Well, correct me if you're wrong, but your issues can be split into two," she said. "Of course there's the trauma from your ordeal to start with, let's call that the inciting issue. But, from the sound of it, most of your self-doubt and distress are coming from the knock-on effects of that. You're distressed over the fear of being powerless, out of control, and the fact that you're having problems keeping control of your emotions means that you're feeling powerless and out of control about that. Which only increases your problems, which makes you feel more powerless, etcetera etcetera. It's a mental feedback loop, so to speak. You're stuck in a dive, and the deeper you go in, the harder it is to get out."

"And this has what to do with Karate?"

"It means," she explained. "That you need an intervention in that loop. And what better intervention is there than a physical and mental activity that you know you enjoy. That will help provide a sense of power, while also readjusting, benchmarking you if you will, to a healthy level of failure, making the idea less distressing. It'll be something that can focus your mind and body, help re-build your sense of worth, and help remind you that you can kick the tails of the mammals who hurt you."

"I…" Kris went silent, thinking it over, before a smile slowly grew on his muzzle. "That does not sound like a silver bullet, but it does sound like something worth trying."

"It might not solve all your problems, in fact I'm pretty sure it won't. But it may well help, a lot," she said, smiling. "So, where's the harm in giving it a go?"

Kris looked up at her and smiled, "Nowhere I can see, for sure."

And with that, the mood mellowed out. Dr Amy Lupulleli asked Kris a few more questions, learning about a few things he had planned for the summer when his friends returned, or some of the other observations he had. In the end though, their time ran out, and so she led him out of her door.

"Right here," she said, cutting him off. He'd been about to go left, down to the lobby, where Ash and his father would be waiting. Instead, with a keycard out and a secure lock undone, she was leading him down into a secure ward of the facility.

At first unsure, Kris was soon following her along, passing a few residents along the way. One in particular stepped up to block them, a wolverine, looking evidently displeased with his position in here. The silverfox's eyes, along with Dr Amy's, dropped down to his right paw. The rest of his fur was coloured in his natural palette of browns and blacks, but this paw was a startling white, tensing with claws out and sharp.

Amy took one look at him and smiled. "Paw painting? Enjoying your art therapy there Chuckles?"

"It was glorious," he smirked, in a haughty self-important accent. "I once again showed off my plans for Sequoia Towers, my glorious scheme to right the criminal wrong slated against my kind by this city! For every species deserves to live in its most natural environs, but where was the provision for swamp dwellers like I. If the city planners do not write this wrong then I shall, by…"

Amy sighed, paying no mind as he rattled off his plans to mass flood parts of the city, and instead picked out a piece of paper from her pocket. She quickly unwrapped it, revealing a map of Zootopia, and Kris watched as she presented it to Chuckles, still mid monologue.

"-The moss shall grow up from the submerged towers, and…"

"-Chuckles," Amy cut in, sternly. "What does this say here?"

She tapped to the lowermost reach of the Rainforest district, a collection of islands off the coast of Savannah central.

He looked at it for a few seconds. "Muddy Swamp…"

"And up here?" she pointed.

"Canal district."

"And over here?"

…

"And over here?"

"Marshlands," he muttered.

"Do those sound like suitable environs for swamp dwelling mammals?" she asked, putting away the map.

He looked down at her pocket, then up at her, scowling. "No, you ignorant popped corn scented bear-cat. If they do exist which they don't, they would not count. I will right the wrong, and build Sequoia towers for the swamp dwellers, and there is nothing you can do to stop me."

He crossed his paws in front of him with a loud hmmmph from his throat, and a squelch from his arms. He looked down, ears drooping, as he saw the mess of paint on his shirt.

"Right, seems someone needs to clean up that paw before you mess up anywhere else, Chuckles," she warned.

The wolverine remained stoic regardless of paint covered paw and clothes, facing off against her. "Then," she carried on, "you can get some new clothes, and…"

"No."

She sighed. "If you drip paint on the floor, you'll have to clean it up."

"Baaaahhh… That is beneath my station."

"Chuckles," she warned.

"I should be…"

"Chuckles," she warned again, a finger raised. "You don't want to go back to isolation, do you? That's what happens when you misbehave..."

His face began to wince up in another frown, but a final sharp "Chuckles," from Amy broke it. "Could you please go clean up," she asked nicely.

And with a huff, he shuffled off down the corridor, Amy making sure he turned into a washroom to start cleaning himself up. That done, she turned back to Kris. "Don't worry," she assured him, "they don't bite. We keep those ones on the second floor."

"Acute aggressive behaviour?" he asked, curious.

She paused, looking at him. "A joke, actually."

"Oh, that makes sense," he said, a little grin growing across the end of his muzzle.

She nodded. "We actually keep the AAB's behind that door there."

Kris turned towards a reinforced wooden door, a heavy lock on it and a strip of reinforced glass running from near the top to near the bottom. And, down near the bottom, Kris thought he saw movement…

Ears perking, he paused, watching closer.

A hedgehog leant in, returning a suspicious glance at those on the fox's side. "Dinsdale?"

Amy put her paws around Kris shoulder to lead him on, and they carried off once again. "What doesn't make sense though is why that wolverine claimed to be a swamp mammal when they're temperate to arctic forest dwellers. The name sequoia towers even suggests this."

"He continually forgets the existence of three large areas of this city," Amy sighed. "Keeping that in mind, is that last bit still the giant leap you think it to be?"

"I guess not," Kris agreed, as they approached another secure door, Amy pulling her lanyard out to unlock it. Going through and closing it behind them, Kris noticed that the decoration around the place seemed to get a lot brighter, happier, almost. For a moment, Kris was brought right back to an event nearing a year ago, walking along here to see his cousin, who up until then he'd assumed was just sulking away in his room.

That had been a bad night…

"In here," she said, opening a door and waving Kris inside. It was a bright day room, fixed tables and bright pastel coloured plastic chairs scattered around, interspersed with soft building blocks and other play things. The scents of a couple of mammal species caught Kris' nose at first, along with the sound of a tv playing. He turned over to the room's corner, and a small grey figure, breaking off from the action cartoon he was watching, stared back.

"Kris?" he asked.

"Matt," the fox said, his heart skipping a beat.

The young coywolf, dressed in a plain tracksuit and shirt, looked up at him and began crying. "Y...You're supposed to be free!"

"I am free," he said, staying the young canine. "In fact, I'm here to visit you."

And then, for a second, the young mammals crying seemed to stop, only to burst out relentlessly, full on wailing coming out as he raced forward and grabbed Kris tight, shaking the larger fox.

Kris took a second to look at the sniffling boy gripping onto him, tail wagging furiously behind him, before holding him tight. "I see you're doing well," he said, smiling. And soon, his tail too was wagging relentlessly.

The next short while was spent with Kris following the pup around, listening to what he had to say. That he liked it here, that the mammals were kinder, they were very, very strange but there were fewer fights. He showed off a bunch of pictures he'd made of the two or three he knew, before showing all the pictures he'd done of Kris.

All of them showing the fox in black and white prison stripes.

Which Kris could forgive, given that that was mostly how Matt had seen him (and yes, there was the brief time when they were being taken to the penitentiary, but he couldn't remember what Matt had been wearing then, so fair was fair). Then again, while he shouldn't mind, he did feel a bit self conscious about the odd picture of him in a ball and chain… Or one in a full on Hannibal Lechwe gurney and muzzle set up.

"Why am I dressed like that?" he asked.

"Cuz you're dressed like a hero!" he said, smiling. "You helped to get the bad guys, and they had you locked up unfairly and were being mean to you, but you got out and hurt them back and are free now!"

"Okay then," Kris mumbled, pausing as he saw a picture of a small brown rat like face looking over them, an evil grin on his muzzle and big sharp claws, one of them holding a bloody hammer.

"That's the guy who sent us to jail," Matt hissed. "But you got both of us out. And…. And you're gonna hunt down and make that mean rat kangaroo pay, right?"

"I'll… I'll see what I can do," Kris said, remembering back to a certain dorcopsis he'd encountered earlier in the day. And how the sentence Matt had been given had taken the least charitable view of his crimes as possible.

Something his wombat friend Jenny had said came back to him. 'Marzie's stick together, through thick and thin.'

And he guessed that a certain judge had very much stuck to that sentiment when faced with the pup next to him.

"And you can beat up this blood sucker too," he carried on, pulling out a drawing of a blood thirsty bat. "He and the rat roo sent us to jail, even though the baby sun bear tried to stop them."

Kris smiled as he noticed the squat black figure, a white V on his chest, in the corner of the page.

"He's a real good guy," Matt said. "You'd like him."

"Well," Kris said, letting a breath out. "I'll say one thing, he takes his job very seriously."

"Uh-hu," Matt carried on, shifting through his drawings. Kris couldn't help but smile as he saw a picture of him flying, with a superhero cape, even if it was still attached to his prison stripes.

"Hey, how about we draw pictures of each other right now?"

Matt agreed with a chirp of joy, and soon they were drawing. Kris' one, beautifully done, showed the young coywolf in a strongmammal pose, the kid unable to stop gushing over it. It was almost as good as the rough, oddly shaped, scribbled out drawing of a certain silverfox, sans prison stripes.

"Thanks," he said, smiling. "You know, I much prefer those clothes than the others."

"Uh-hu…"

And soon more talking followed, about this, about that, until finally a gentle knock came on the door.

"Need to wrap things up," Dr Amy warned.

"You'll be back?" Matt asked.

"Yes," he said, softly. "I'll be back."

"He'll be back," the binturong added, in her best Arnold Schwartzenyäne impression. Matt burst into a fit of laughter, before sniffing. He came up to Kris and hugged him, tight.

"Thanks for getting me in here," he said.

Kris was taken aback. "How did you know it was me?" he asked.

"Of course it would be you! Who else would it be?"

And with that, Kris smiled and held him tight. They said their goodbyes, said their promises, and with that, Kris departed, walking back through the halls once more.

"Now who thinks they can't be relied on?" a voice came from his side.

Kris held up a finger. "Point appreciated."

"You did a really good thing there," she said, opening a door for them. "Sticking out and advocating for him like that. Especially when others, the identity of who I will officially be not stating due to client patient confidentiality, just shirk their shoulders and wash their paws of him."

Kris felt his ears pull back. "Has his mother visited him at all?"

He looked up, and she looked down, a sad look on her muzzle. "I cannot confirm or deny that but, hypothetically, if such an answer did exist, the subject matter would be a serious matter of client patient confidentiality and could not be disclosed."

"Understood," Kris said. "Poor guy… -At least you're looking after him!"

She chuckled. "I'm not the only psychologist here you know. But he does have a pair of capable hooves looking after him. And when he's allowed out of here… He'll be an adult, and he'll have a fighting chance. I promise you that. And it's all thanks to you."

Kris smiled, before letting a breath out through his nose. "Not rotting in that prison, where he'd never have a chance."

"Some mammals felt he deserved punishment over anything else," she said, her ears falling back. "We've had a lot of hate mail from people…"

"Calling him a murderer, saying he did deserve to rot in prison?"

"Let's just say that they believe his original sentence was more than appropriate," she said.

"And do you think it was?"

There was a silence between them, the binturong looking down and away. "Truthfully, all I can say is that I completely understand the affected parties' sentiments, and would never argue that they were invalid, and leave it at that."

"I feel the same way," Kris agreed, as a thought entered his mind. "Did you ever get a young elephant or rhino, too young to be responsible, who accidentally stepped on a mouse? How do you deal with them?"

"To try and help them come to terms with what they've done," she said, huffing as she looked up into the air. "What else can you do? We chose as mammals to live together, but that brings thousands of unequally powered peoples together. With skill and thought, we can use that to our great advantage. Then there are those who can leverage their differences to take for themselves and cause harm to others. And then there are those whose differences mean they can do terrible harm with little thought. Sometimes with no thought. And there isn't much you can do about it without abandoning living together at all." She looked down at him sadly. "That's the price we pay."

Kris nodded, sulenly. It was the price Matt had paid, that Armando had paid too. Were the mammals they encountered the same as them, then nothing would have happened. But the law didn't care if things were easily broken, did it?

All it cared about was whether they were broken or not.

And with that, they stepped out of the secure area, and, checking her watch, she smiled. "Just enough time to talk to your father," she noted, which she did.

Discussions were had, future meetings were arranged, and as Dr Silverfox talked with her to clarify a few things, Kris sat down next to Ash.

"Feeling good?" the red fox asked.

"Slightly mixed feelings," his cousin replied, looking around a bit. "But generally, yes."

"You shouldn't be so worried about wearing your emotions on your sleeve. Be emotional, they're your emotions. Embrace them, run with them, it worked for me."

There was a pause, Kris looking over at his older cousin.

"You tried to throw yourself off a bridge."

"Everything has to be just perfect with you, doesn't it?" Ash scoffed, paws on his hips. "And you wonder why you can't find happiness."

"Well, this karate idea won't be exactly perfect, but I'm not letting perfect be the enemy of good. Do you want to join?"

"What, karate?"

"Yes," Kris said. "You'll probably struggle, at first."

"Well you'll just have to teach me harder. Isn't that what you enjoy doing?"

"I… Guess."

"Then good," Ash said smiling. "In fact, better than good. Because it won't just be us two and I won't be the only one almost always failing."

"Huh?" Kris asked, head tilting.

"I know someone else who wants to learn it," he said, smugly. "And will be just as useless as me to start with!"