Chapter 31

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"Do you know what I find most unusual but reassuring about evil?"

"No. You tell me."

"The fact that it invariably infights and destroys itself. It's never just about removing the enemy, there always has to be an enemy. And so, eventually, it's the enemy in their own ranks that gets targeted down and attacked."

Skye looked up blankly from her coffee mug, watching as Doug turned the laptop around and began playing a video again. "I mean, the fact is that if the aim really was cutting carbon emissions, why would both President Emmanuel Mouton and President François Hurleande be cutting down on their countries nuclear lead in favour of unreliable wind? It's 'cause it's not about climate change, it's the hypnosis power of the turbines! Slowly feeding into ya brainwaves! Making the preds all tame and compliant with their tails between their legs. Sheep and tamed sheepdog, pushing it forward together, so soon you too will join them in their slavery!"

Pausing it, Doug couldn't help but lie back in his seat and chuckle. "I mean I suppose it should have been expected that in a toxic individualistic ideology, after attacking those who live in fair community orientated equalistic societies and herds first, they naturally then go on to the closest pred equivalence to that. The strict, cruel, marshal based hunting pack. It's so obvious it practically writes itself."

"Uh-hu," Skye nodded, taking a quick sip of her drink. "You know, I heard that Bellwether didn't just want to get preds."

Doug paused, looking over.

"She wanted to get the big fauna first too. She wanted to get anything she felt took up space, stole from her little guys. It's just that she needed allies, and a lot of them were big prey, and the little narrative with the nighthowlers worked all the more better with just preds going crazy."

"You know that large mammal violence and predator violence are not the same, right?"

"Uh-hu. One's an unnecessary and still present fury based over mating rights and territory that hurts mammals to this day, the other a no longer existing necessary evil that was once needed in order to gain the necessary food for survival and was abandoned as soon as alternatives became available."

He blinked a few times, before standing up tall, thrusting the seat back with the force of his rise and spilling Skye's drink all over her. She hissed as the hot liquid touched her fur, before leaping back and onto her feet as the ram marched up. "Listen here you little pelt!"

He didn't get any further before a beep rang out and his eyes widened. A second passed, then another, as he stood there, panting, hoof going up and feeling the tight collar around his neck. His anger gave way to an unsteady fear and then a grimacing anger as he sat back down. "You know," he hissed. "I'm smart enough to know that discourse with such a bald faced lying troll as yourself is a futile endeavour. I know you're being deliberately conceitful, sneaky, dishonest, untrustworthy, and are up to something. So tell me, huh. What is it? What cunning little plan do you have in the works this time?"

Wiping down her front, Skye let a breath out and sat down, cradling her head in her paws. "I…" She began, before breathing in and out. "I want to fix a problem."

"Oh really? What problem?"

"Your rampant speciesism," she said.

"Oh, where have I heard that one before," Doug snorted. "And surely you can see the implausibility of wanting me to 'see the error in my ways', or reconsider what I did. To admit that I was a naughty boy and I should just put up with the evil I see everyday, which due to your indoctrination into predator culture you believe isn't evil, it's just something the weaker members of society have to accept, rather than being able to find the strength together and bring justice to their oppressors like they deserve."

Skye looked at him for a second before shrugging. "Yes."

"...Yes?"

"Yes."

"What do you mean, just 'yes?'"

"I mean yes," she stomped. "I want you to see the error in your ways, to reconsider what you did to the innocent civilians you darted, to admit you're a naughty boy and to realise this great evil you see isn't there. It doesn't exist. That it's just evil things you've heard and made up and created as justifications for your bitter, lonely, failed existence."

He held himself there for a second or two before snorting. "If you really think I'm 'bitter'..."

"Never getting into Wolf Point."

"Lonely…"

"Not even Bellwether went for you, did she?"

"And what's all that about failed existence…"

"Just look where you've ended up now."

He stared her down, eyes narrowing. "I'm sure you'd say the same things to those held as political prisoners in all sorts of repressive regimes."

The swift fox groaned. "You know, that's your problem. You just can't see the bigger picture, can you? You can't judge things against each other, and see the forest for the trees."

"Oh really?" he snorted.

"Yeah, like before," she carried on. "Remember when you said that 'large mammal violence' and 'pred violence' weren't the same? You had the long held belief that the pred violence was by far the worst, as it involved hunting, killing, eating. But I suggested that no, pred violence was not the worst as it was a forced cruel necessity needed for survival that we abandoned as soon as we could, as opposed to something arguably unnecessary…"

"-I wish you could see just how disingenuous you're being right now," he said, glaring at her. "Musk ox would charge into each other's crash helmet heads once in a while, and elephants would get angry if something big came close. And suddenly that's all the same as a constant, never ending, always present dread that biologically designed killing machines were out there and waiting, eyeing up any opportunity to get in and slaughter a loved one. A family member. All for a few days' food before they came back again, and again and again. Constant, never ending, from the smallest to even the larger animals. No escape. No hope. For millennia after millenia after millenia. A genocide of incalculable magnitude with an ongoing legacy of generational trauma oppressing us to this day, that you say gets to be swept away under a rug due to a bit of roughhousing here and there. Well, what do you say to that."

"It did end."

He paused, blinking. "What?"

"You said it was never ending," Skye said. "But once we found other ways of getting our food, it did end."

"And that makes it okay?" He turned, grabbing the laptop screen. "Besides, it hasn't ended, it changed. Look here, you showed me this yourself. What… What are you even up to? You haven't answered that, have you? You talk about change, but you're just as sneaky as the rest of them, you can't admit it. What's your end goal, huh? Why are you doing this? Why?"

"To protect my sister," she spoke. "And to protect Jack. From you. By making you realise you were wrong and that we're not the bad guys."

Doug just looked at her for a second before snorting. "Really? That's your plan. Honestly I find it hard to believe I even considered you sneaky and conniving at one point. As I said before, you're a fox without their natural sneakiness and conniving ability. It's a tragic thing to see. Like a fish on land, flopping over and over, still fundamentally what it is but at the same time so completely unsuited for its environment, it's laughable. You're nothing more than an embarrassment, and I'd feel sorry for you had you not so cruelly and maliciously duped that idiotic hare into thinking you genuinely care for him."

Skye glared up. "What?"

"Oh yeah, Jack. My partner. Who just wants to do spy stuff as it's fun, and has just settled for you as you're nice. And thinks there's some kind of genuine connection…"

"Like you'd know what one was," the vixen growled.

"Ha! Says the one coming from a dysfunctional home environment such as your own. With an adopted sibling like yours worming her way into your brain, did you even have any chance of coming out normal?"

"Who knows. But if I'm a product of my environment, yours must have been truly tragic," Skye hissed. "Tell me. Did a big bad bear kill your daddy? Did mommy not love you? Were the other kids mean?"

"The other kids being exceptionally mean and deliberately cruel is entirely unrelated to this matter…"

"Oh no it's not," Skye cut in, smiling. "As I know what it's like. The teasing, the name calling, the stupid lies they know are lies and you scream at them are lies, but they just keep calling them out louder and louder and laughing as you try and correct them. Seeing all those others getting along and leaving you out, alone. Being too scared or not knowing how to go in. Getting teased and having your decisions be ridiculed and laughed at as they say to your face that you climbed too high and you should be down there with them." She jumped up onto the sofa so she could stare the sheep in the eyes. "Only I worked out how to get past all that, find friends who cared and take pride in myself. While you?" She smiled. "You just turned angrier and lonelier, wanting someone to blame, and making this cathedral of ideas and justifications about why the world did this to you and how you'd get back at them one day. You couldn't help it, really. Because while in my case it was on them, in your case I bet it was all on you."

Doug just stood still before waving off a hoof. "You know what, I'm done here."

"Oh yeah, you're done. You're done as I got through. I got a nail through all that armour you built up around yourself, and gripped onto the nugget of truth in the centre and…"

"Being free is being able to say that two plus two equals four," Doug snorted. "Even if you're only a minority of one. Literally Nineteen-eighty-four there. I see the world as it really is, I know it, and you know it too! That's why you showed me that video, just to rub it in. Only instead, you showed you and all the preds' nasty little character flaws starting to ingrow into themselves."

"No different to Bellwether wanting to take on the big prey mammals more than the small preds. She had far more hatred for a hippo or rhino than any small little otter."

"She saw the light. I showed her the light."

"She compromised her evil plan to get herself more power. The hippo was useful to her on her side, the otter was useful being darted, and if you think it was any other way you're the one who needs to see the light."

"I…" He grit his teeth. "Even if she did we needed it against the likes of you, the likes of your sister, and the predator superiority complex raging out there," Doug stomped his hoof so hard a crack came out, from the floor or it she couldn't tell. "Because even now, as you've shown me, preds never change. I'm forced to rope along in this charade for a chance of getting some semblance of freedom, one I presume you are all conspiring to draw back on at the most opportune moment. You're just lucky that I have a level enough head, and actually do understand the concepts of lesser evils."

"Really? I mean, how would things change if this arms dealer was another sheep."

"Depends if I knew him by reputation before or not, so knew if this was just a cruel trick by you preds to use me to wipe out my own allies. You know, maybe that's what you're doing anyhow. Butter me up with this wolf, then go along with one more mission, then another, and soon I'm having to take down prey and sheep. That's just like you, huh? Uncompromising, merciless, always on the hunt, never giving up. And with preds it's naturally not just about the killing and sustenance, they want to hurt prey and they just find new ways of doing it. Just like a certain Ewetuber, taking joy in creating fake news designed to harm and hurt sheep, turning society against them until they become prey in the verbal sense once more. That Gruniard Gal mammal is the true face of you preds, carrying on and never changing. And there's only one way of solution for the greater good of us all, a concept that you certainly can't wrap your head around, pred. Well, I'm absolutely tired of this disingenuous conversation now, but if you intend to carry on in such a fashion, I want you to know that I have my integrity and understand the pitfalls of the sunk cost fallacy. Good day."

And with that he turned and marched off.

Skye was just left standing there, shaking slightly, but with an ever so slight grin growing across her face. And as she calmed, it just grew, curling up as she knitted her fingers together and stretched them out.

"-Feeling foxy much?"

"YAHHH!" She leapt out, springing into a rough combat pose and standing there, staring as her sister stood respectfully to attention right by her side, high powered tranquiliser pistol in one paw. "H-how long have you been there?"

"Oh, only after Doug slipped out," she said, tucking her weapon away. "But I was in that doorway since just after I got a warning that Doug almost attacked you, and only avoided a shock by a fur's whisker. Quite a good thing, actually."

"Yeah," Skye hissed. "Don't want to have to recall your pet."

"Oh, don't be like that. From the look on your face you'd be upset if you got your little project taken away too."

"He's not…" she began, only to bite her tongue. "I'm doing this for you, you know."

Lt Vixen paused, letting her tail come up into paw and fiddling with its end. "Are you now?" she asked.

"Yes," she hissed. "I know I point-blank won't be able to get you to reconsider this, and Jack… -Well I'd just be a stinking meddler if I got in the way of what he wants to do. I have my principles as well. And so the only solution I see to solving this problem is to make that ram see the error of his ways. And I'm closing in. I've almost got him."

"And if you do, how do you know he's being sincere? He's not the most sincere type, as you may have gathered."

"I… He sounded pretty… truthful to his inner feelings at the end there, so I think I can tell."

The red fox vixen nodded. "While I will grant you that one, I don't think his reaction to whatever plan you're having will be all revealing rage and anger. In any case, while I won't get in the way of you, I won't change any of my plans regardless of what happens." She shook her head. "I went into this knowing he was a danger, knowing that there's a risk, and planning accordingly. If Jack were here he'd quote a fictional pirate on the matter about the trusting of the untrustworthy and untrusting of the trustworthy, but that's beside the point. A fire can burn a house down, but in a stove or boiler it's perfectly safe."

Skye looked up at her. "Well, while I trust my little sister to do her fire juggling without burning her face, I'd at least take solace in putting the flames out. Or at least trying." She turned away. "You talk all about managing the risks and keeping things safe. Well I thought I kept things safe too!"

The red fox pulled back. "Skye?"

"You won't even see the risk coming Sweetie," she said, voice cracking slightly. "And then in a flash you'll be falling and caught, and realise that you can't get out and are trapped and it's all your fault."

"Sis…"

The red fox vixen began walking forward, only for Skye to wheel around and grab her by her shoulders. "That thing with my leg… It wasn't just that I broke it. I was working alone at my shop, slipped my cart into an inspection pit by mistake, and got caught there, hanging from some wires. I was left waiting to die for days until Jack, going against what I told him to do, came in and rescued me by sheer, dumb, luck. I… I'd have never even considered something like that happening but it came out of nowhere and almost took me. I… I got lucky. But you're going in and playing with fire, and it doesn't matter how much you think you're good at it. It could burn out of control, or something could sweep in while you're focussed, and…" She closed her eyes and grit her teeth. "You can't ride this wave forever! One day you're going to be wiped out and it's going to hurt, if you're lucky! I mean, can you even cope with it? All this time coming up with schemes behind a desk and being a peacetime army fox, have you even experienced what it's like to be hunted! To be a small prey. To have your life on the line!"

The red fox vixen just stood there, stepping back slightly, before her gaze hardened. Then softened slightly as, tinged with regret, she slipped a paw into her jacket and pulled something out. It was thrust into the swift fox vixen's paws as the red fox took a step back, gaze level.

Skye looked down and saw her sister so much younger, barely out of school, with a mix of other mammals, all in the rough mish-mash set of gear and uniforms synonymous with the rangers. Out in some scrubland, their rifles over their backs, they smiled. A crowd, almost all pred, except for the brown hare standing next to her sister. The one Skye remembered had trained with Felicity Fox, before being transferred over and working with her sister's squad until…

"I…" the swift fox said, suddenly choking up. "I'm…" She closed her eyes and looked away, holding the photo back for her sister to take. "I shouldn't have said that," she said as she did so. "I'm sorry, I…"

"It's okay," the red fox said firmly. "No harm done."

Looking back, gaze still hanging on red furred feet, Skye nodded. "Thanks."

"Do your thing if you want, at the very least it's entertaining," Lt Vixen said, patting her sister on the shoulder. "But do you want my opinion? Some mammals, when they're so dug in and have done so much… Redemption or them coming around is a nice idea. But that requires introspection, humility, things that don't come from being defeated and shown up. Doug and the many like him? They're a lost cause, they'll never truly come around, and they'll never redeem themselves. They just have a useful capacity you can use for the greater good, and once done if you set them free, they'll slip back into what they were before. Every time."

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Walking up along the narrow steps, Kris' ears flickered as the wood creaked underneath him. He felt a bit unsure about the way up the pagoda, and he was a fox, a mammal a fraction of the weight and size of the pandas who'd used it many times before.

The thought was both disconcerting and concerting.

More the former as he passed large bolted doors on each level, warning signs nailed firmly onto each of them. No smoking, no flames, no fire.

Pyrotechnics inside.

Sniffing the air, he easily picked up a scent carried by the breeze, one he knew faintly from party poppers and Christmas crackers and a large number of school science experiments.

Gunpowder.

Only here, the air was practically thick with it.

Still, up he went, finally moving past a few levels that weren't used to store explosives, just the things those explosives would be packed into, before finally reaching the top level.

The heavy wooden door, strengthened by latticed iron, rose above him. Paws out, he knocked a few times.

"Come in," a deep voice called, and he did.

Entering into a crowded lobby like space, Kris made his way between stacked up desks and large pots full of scrolls and notes. The sweet smell of incense was carried in the air and, looking over to a stone shelf, he saw the burner, locked away behind a metal grate. Other perfumes were carried in the air, along with the sound of the faint creaks of the structure as the tightly bound wooden beams rubbed against each other however faintly in the breeze. His footsteps rang out far above them as he looked around, trying to guess which of the two doors on from here the occupant was behind.

He couldn't tell and, as he approached a desk, something else caught his attention.

A framed picture.

Large, blown up, it showed a motley crew of animals crowded together in front of a mock police line-up chart, each striking off a different figure for their photograph. The giant panda at the back, his presumed host, wasn't the thing that first drew Kris' eyes. Instead it was the two figures on the far right, a pair of sentient reptiles. The silver fox had gone his whole life in Canidea without seeing one, it made sense given that rather disagreeable climatic conditions for them. But even in Zootopia, even with the heat in Sahara square, he could only remember glancing at and spotting one or two in his life, both corners-of-his-eye glances. Indeed, his far off spotting of a sentient secretary bird, statistically a vastly lower possibility, was more vivid in his mind. Either way, both were very rare occurrences, akin to stopping at a crossroads in a nondescript area and seeing the world's fastest car roll past in front of you.

Which made the presence of a sentient tortoise or turtle of some kind, and a sentient marine iguana, somewhat stick out. Though maybe there was an explanation behind it, maybe due to both of them coming from the Galapagos? On the race to sentience, mammals always tended to outpace reptiles who then outpaced the birds, which was why most cases where the sentient variety of the other two survived always tended to come from where there was no mammalian competition.

Either way, it still stood out, compounded by their looks. Unlike all the others, the iguana looked vaguely bored, an unusual look given his scuba gear and harpoon gun. In contrast, the turtle or tortoise had a smug look about him, arms crossed over his tan vest while a similarly coloured pith helmet lay tilted forward on his head, giving a look akin to a pair of determined eyebrows over his thick glasses. Something still looked unusual though and it took a second for Kris to clock it, he was in a wheelchair. Indeed, looking closer at the high tech device revealed another member of the group he'd missed on the first pass.

A mouse. Blue grease stained dungarees over a yellow jumper, while a red bandana wrapped around her blonde head hair. Her eyes were visible through her glasses, and she gave out a joyous, happy look as she held a remote control of some kind in her paws. She wasn't just sitting on the reptile's chair's armrest, she was up close to him, leaning on his sleeve, tail curling around his arm gently and caringly.

On the far side of the picture were another pair. Down low, a grubby koala nude bar a loincloth, a red bandana over his thick head hair and a staff in his right paw. His left paw outstretched, its two-thumbed grasp reaching out as if to clutch at the fox, matched with his askew expression and Marty-Peltmam-like bulbous eyes to give him an unnerving look, like he was casting off a curse.

Behind him, the largest mammal of the group stood, a huge hippo. Kris blinked a few times and breathed out, pushing away any silly and unfair thoughts. This member of the species was likely nothing like a certain member he'd briefly and fatefully encountered once before.

For a start, he was pink. Leucism, most likely. Either that, or he was from certain rare lines of the species that had survived in some of Europe's wetlands for aeons and adapted to the lower light conditions by losing much of their skin pigment. Maybe it was a mix of both, Kris didn't know. Either way, the pink skinned megafauna wore a tight pair of pink lycra shorts, so close in tone to his skin that it was actually very easy to miss them. In contrast he wore a big gold-buckled belt, a red shirt, red skull cap, red combat gloves he was messing with and a pair of strap-held goggles. Apart from maybe reminding him of a wrestler, Kris wasn't able to get much of a read on him, given how he was focussing off on his gloves.

In contrast to the panda himself, in the centre right and at the back. And for a kung fu expert, it wasn't what Kris had expected. Dressed in a full red set of… silk? Overalls? -Complete with two flame like decals on either side, a blue sash belt was wrapped around his chest, while a pair of bandoliers with large shells hung taught between it and his shoulders. Likely for what appeared to be a large blunderbus on his back. Fist in palm, shoulders squared, he looked dead forward, one eye narrowed and the other raised as he puckered his mouth off to the side in a look of quizzical determination.

And that left the last mammal.

Dead centre of the group.

A grey furred raccoon, standing poised and ready yet casual and relaxed as well, riding the line of the oxymoron like a high wire artist. The long staff resting over his shoulder might have given away that he was one, were it not for the odd bronze angular hook on the end. Kris had never seen a weapon quite like it before… some kind of long range sickle or such. But whatever it was, the raccoon held it confidently, and it all built up into his striking appearance. Just like the hippo, he was clad in a pair of lycra shorts that seemed to match his body colour perfectly, complete with fur added on top that melded in with his leg fur. Up above, he wore a blue long sleeved shirt with a pair of coat tails hanging below his belt and a yellow bandanna instead of a collar. Blue gloves and blue cut-proof sock shoes that wrapped halfway up his lower legs matched with his askew blue flat cap and contrasted with a red pouch wrapped around one thigh. And, to top his dress sense off, a black mask of some kind lay over his face, wrapped over his natural one but not doing anything to hide his wide, alert, optimistic hazel eyes.

It was a strange mix, but he, whoever he was, pulled it off.

And looking at him, how could he not?

He was tall for his species, very tall, and it paired with an equally noticeable and unusual litheness. Not gaunt, but close, though Kris could tell that it was only half down to flab being exercised into tense flat muscle. The other half came down to dedicated fur care, trimming the traditionally fluffy coat down until it was short and uniform across his body, bar his tail and cheek fluff, though they were merged into the rest to give the procyonid a sleek, athletic, almost vulpine look. All rolled together it made him look sharp, smart, polished. And most of all, it defined his muzzle, turning the regular smooth and round homely look of his species' face into something streamlined and defined. Not exactly vulpine, still carrying a strong hint of procyonidae, but unique and… dapper. His look, that might look stupid and goofy on any other mammal, just screamed 'Dapper'. But all that, everything, was all just a canvas for his smile, a wide grin drawn across his face and resting with a radiating pride and belonging, like a match made in heaven.

Out of all of them, the mysterious raccoon wore a look of contentment and confidence better than any. Determined, optimistic, a mammal with a thirst for life and the confidence to lead the rest of them, wherever they might go.

"So," a deep booming voice spoke from behind him. Kris almost yelped out, but held his nerves and stood still. "Curious child enters my domain, and looks at old picture from past life."

"As you invited me in," he said, calming his nerves. "Maybe you should have accepted that being in the realm of possibilities."

The bear gave a deep, low, rumbling chuckle. "Hmmmmm, hmmmmm, hmmmmm, young fox kit is smart, and master of great Western art of the passive aggressive I see. Come, turn around, look at me boy."

That Kris did, looking up to see a panda standing above him. The same one from the picture, older, but it was indisputable. Dressed in a loose brown set of shorts tied together by a rope and with an unbuttoned white shirt on his back, he moved slowly with purpose, sitting down on a chair and resting a pot of tea down next to some small china mugs.

Waving at a stool, Kris sat down, the panda pouring him a drink. "There are lots of stories behind picture. Strange memories, going back bad, but in the end good. Life is journey, and you can always change your path, if you so put your mind to it." Finishing with Kris', he turned to his own. "Many do not, they do not see, do not think they can. When they do not know more, or think life has spited them, kicked them off. I was like that once. Until I was shown, different path."

"That raccoon invited you to his group?" Kris asked.

The panda coughed. He hadn't even taken a drink yet, he coughed all the same, before looking up, smiling. "I suppose no surprise, mammal with eyes can tell who our little gang was named after."

"He just…" Kris began to say… "It's not very scientific, and probably a bit stereotypical. But he had a lot of visual attributes you'd expect from a leader."

"Uh-hu," the panda said, taking a sip of his tea. "Like?"

"Being in the centre of the picture for a start."

"I suppose is give away," the big bear smiled. "But I think more of smaller tells. Hints and clues. Ones you see not just in him but might see in others."

Kris nodded, thinking for a second. Sure, the litheness, the subdued strength, the athleticism and the outward dress sense, styling and appearness were all things that came to mind. But this panda didn't match any of them, while still radiating a quiter, more powerful, authority. More like a volcano slowly steaming away. In fact, the more he thought about it, the harder the answer became. After all, a lot of the examples coming to mind were fellow vulpines like himself, something he compared that raccoon too. So it wasn't like it was a universal thing. On the other paw, maybe he was just completely overthinking this. He turned up to see the bear take another drink of his tea, eyes looking down at it before flicking up to him. Soft honey brown, framed by the black rings around them, they looked up with a slightly electric quizzicleness… Studios, holding back, but with an energy behind them, that if let out could roar…

Like the dark mahogany brown of a vixen firm, solid and convicted in her path.

The tropical emerald green of a fox relaxed, playful, but always trying to grow towards the light.

The burning bright amber of a silver furred todd his own age whose name he didn't even know but who came to give him words of advice and support none the less, that both teased endless secrets and stories behind closed doors and locked away a pain that he chose to banish as much he could from the new life he was living to its fullest.

The amethyst irises of a bunny that was ever at wonder with the world, but ever convicted to make it a better place.

The darker damp green of a cousin trying to find his way, struggling at times and oft cast in a certain malaise of one flavour or the other, but at the end of the day always on your side and always there for you.

And of course, the wide eyed eager hazel, confident and suave and looking out to a world that was his playground.

"The eyes. You can always tell by the eyes," Kris said.

He smiled. "When I saw Po's eyes, I thought of small whizz-bang firework, looping around, bringing joy to all. Wonder and happiness. Tigress? Lightning. Beauty and deadliness, in one, inseparable. What do you think when you see mine?"

Kris took a few seconds to think it through. "World weary wisdom. There's danger behind there, contained, but I can see them turning fierce. Pain… No, regret, weighs heavily on them. You are a mammal who made many mistakes, but learnt from them."

"And you are wise young mammal, fox with light blue eyes that I can see. That show me wisdom, strength, conviction, maturity. Fine things for any young mammal to have. But I see them cracked, the edges fraying." He sat down a cup and pointed at him. "They have seen great hurt and pain too, that they do not deserve."

Closing them, breathing in and sucking on his tongue as he did so, Kris looked down for a second. "That's highly accurate."

"I presume so, anonymous vulpine."

Kris froze for a second, trembling, only for a large paw to come over and pat down on his.

"Do not worry. As wise western saying goes. What goes around comes around."

Kris nodded a little. "That's not how you use that saying."

"Oh… Then as Marvin Grayze say, heard it through grapevine."

"That's more appropriate."

"Good," the panda said, nodding along. "Grapevine. Grapes. They can turn bitter on the vine, so I have heard. And that is why I invite you up here, to help you avoid that. To warn you of trap that is simmering, burning resentment. Of hate."

Kris shook his head. "I don't hate anyone for it," he breathed out. "I don't…" He noticed he was starting to work some of his claws into the table top and slipped it back. "It was all…" Eyes closed and shook his head. "Some stupid idiot of a mammal who thought it was a joke. He wasn't even going after me. He got the wrong mammal though. And then that crazy hippo decided to do what he did to prove a point in his stupid game in his mind. And then…" He closed his eyes, voice hitching, before he let it go. "There were those there who were cruel. They hurt me the most. By far."

"And you do not hold hate for that in your heart?"

"I'm scared of them," he said, looking up. "I just want them gone. I just want it all to be gone, to have never happened. But I can't do that, it has. So, instead, I want to do what some other wise mammal advised me to do. Carry on living in the free world."

The bear chuckled. "Words of wisdom, I can vouch by."

Kris' ears ticked up. "You had your freedom taken away from you too?"

"Indeed. And deservedly so."

The fox twitched for a second only to relax, nodding. "Then I'm happy you grew wiser with time, and did it too."

"And it is why, on seeing you down there, I wanted to talk to you," the bear spoke. "About humiliation. And how humiliation can turn into callousness, and then hate. Let me tell you story. A long time ago, when I was young mammal, there was one thing that caught light in my eye. The light in the sky, the scream of fireworks, the beauty and art that painted the night. I was young, my country at war with itself, but I did not notice at time. Instead, I focus on my dream, to be an artist like them too. To learn the craft of fire, to tame the art. Years spent, as the tide of anger receded and the light of modern outside world came in. We were in the far corner though, in old country, traditions so rooted in not even the whirlwind of years before dislodged those old and storied mammals and others in their seats of power. And it was to them I showed my life's work. And they who scorned me."

He let out a deep sigh. "And as young mammal, not use to humiliation, I let it turn to rage. I turned my creations of beauty into weapons of violence. War. I let my hate for them drive me to root them out, but in their place I was no different. I was worse. I held an army, of sorts. I demanded taxes and tribute, payment of loyalty and protection. Protection from myself, from my wrath."

"But… You changed," Kris said. "Like the biker wolves. You realised there was a better way, you could stand with the weak, for good."

"Though I wish it was lesson I came to myself, it was not," he said. "Early in my career, I came into an alliance with four others…" He trailed off, and looking on Kris couldn't help but see the furs across his body rise. "Their leader… You mention eyes. His. Hate, deep pools of yellow burning hate, ingrowing into itself. What was there before, lost into it by humiliation or pain or anger, I stay awake at night unable to know. Years in the waiting, he took us on just one mission, to fulfil a vendetta he had held for most of his life. To kill a thief and steal his secrets. Or so I thought. What the thief did, I do not know. I don't think he did, even as that monster kill wife in front of him, telling him that he waited so long to pay back the pain. The betrayal. Either way, while us four were there, there was no point. He alone could have burnt house to ground, the neighbourhood to ash."

Closing his eyes, he shook his head. "He did not though, as he wanted to prove point. The thief left young son, now orphan, who would grow up to be as ordinary as any other. Only they were wrong, all wrong, as twelve years later young thief return, defeat us all. My reign ended, me humiliated once more, I was imprisoned. And upon release, sought to escape humiliation via meditation, becoming lost in my own mind, where no-one could get in or out."

"I used to meditate a lot," Kris said. "It's not a bad thing, in fact I'd want to do it more… It's just that ever since, when I start… The thoughts and memories begin to return."

"I can understand young fox desire, isolation into oneself not inherent evil. But, when it leads to abandonment of those you love, your own blood, it becomes so. I retreated into myself, and in that time one of the last warlords aimed to take what should be my most cherished for himself. So in time, he can claim my legacy alongside his."

Kris thought for a few seconds before his eyes widened. "Your daughter."

He nodded. "And I would be powerless to resist, were it not for that thief returning once more. He needed demolition expert for own mission, and chose to partner with myself."

"But you helped kill his…"

"I know," he said. "Indeed, he wasn't happy with it. At first, was advice from friend. But he reached in and talked to me anyway, and together he saved my daughter, and then I was there for him." He chuckled a few times. "Great thief is terrible negotiator. For all I help him, he help me far more in life. For he teach me something new. A divine truth. No longer humiliation to anger. Now just humility."

There was a long quiet in the room. "The thief was the raccoon, wasn't he?"

He nodded his head. "Who I would now call a great friend. A mammal I owe much too." He held out his paws. "These last few years, seeing my daughter happy, and finally using my art for its true purpose. I find my way to Zootopia, long story in itself, and I find myself happy." He looked down. "And one day I hear of young mammal, bitten too by sting of humiliation. And treading this path, seeing him climb up with what can both be used as an art of beauty, and tool of anger, I see it as duty to tell him of the paths he can choose. Of those that are right, those that are wrong." He smiled. "I am content to see that talk was maybe not even necessary. Fox kit is very wise mammal indeed."

"Thank you," Kris said, nodding. "I just don't want to contribute to any more pain or suffering in the world. I had my chance to, I had a chance to make the one who framed me's life far worser than it already is. I passed it over."

The panda stood up, nodding. "Many mammals, strong and wise and compassionate, would not give him that chance. Though bear in mind this. All may be worthy of forgiveness and new chances. But some more worthy than others."

Kris nodded. "Several years of him in prison feels enough for me." A small smile flickered on his muzzle. "If I had the chance to clap my paw and let him out now, forgive me if I don't."

He let out a chuckle. "And when he comes out?"

Kris paused for a moment. "That's an interesting hypothetical. Maybe I'll visit him. Maybe he'll visit me. Maybe we'll never see each other again. I guess I won't know until it happens."

"That is something that almost unites all of us," he said, standing up and taking the empty tea pot away.

Kris smiled, nodding at that, only to pause. "Hang on, the implications of that bit of subtext are quite disconcerting."

The bear just chuckled as he put things away. "Come, let me hand you back to your tutors."

"Yes," Kris nodded, following out to the stairs. "But in regards to what you just said…"

By the time they got down to the ground floor, Kris had learnt that he wasn't going to learn. Instead, he walked out across to the others, truthfully saying that the big panda had learnt what had happened to him and had some words of advice.

And that would be that, only for the front gate to slam open and a tired, scratched up, messed up polar bear to stumble through, holding himself just about steady on his feet and looking around. "I wish… I wish to claim sanctuary here!" he called, paws up.

Po looked at Tigress, Tigress looked at Po. "Sure," he said.

"I don't see any issue with that," she agreed. "Though why not the police?"

"I…" he growled, shaking his head. "They would not understand. Is not their world."

"What is not their world?" asked the panda from the tower, exiting the door again, pulled by the commotion.

Ash, Kris and Haida turned back to the polar bear and then stepped back as a look of fear, then horror, then realisation and then rage grew across his muzzle. "So this is why it want me to come here! Well, too late to run, today I fight!"

The three kung fu masters and three kung fu students looked at each other, confused. "I mean," Po said, "as long as we're keeping safe I'm all for fights and…"

"Stay out of this!" the polar bear yelled, before pointing at the older panda. "This is between you and I."

"I am confused. Have never seen you in my long life."

"Da," the bear said. "But I have seen you, agent d'yavola! Now prepare to die!"