The Noah building still reeks of blood, so the wake is held in the gymnasium instead. Displayed at the center of the court is a shoulder height portrait of Ezekiel's yearbook photo propped atop an easel, adorned with white lilies. Not even the most rowdy of students utters a word as solemn piano music filters through the gymnasium speakers. Every animal in Noah's Arc is mourning; if not for Ezekiel, then for something darker. Both carnies and herbies mourn their innocence, forever tarnished by the gruesome All Animals' Eve. Blood is a key trigger to every animal's instincts, although what reaction it elicits is different. Primal fear or primal desire. Every student sitting in the bleachers now understands that in a way the could never be conveyed with a SAD lecture or diagram. So miserably, they mourn.

Principal House waddles up to the center of the court, standing next to Ezekiel's portrait. Without a podium to hide behind, he looks even more awkward than usual, as if he's unsure of what to do with his free hand or legs. Still, he clears his throat into his microphone, cueing the music to soften.

"My dear students…" He begins. "I have no words for the loss we've experienced this week. The unfortunate tragedy that occurred on All Animals' Eve robbed us of the joy that day was supposed to inspire. But crucially, it robbed us of our beloved classmate and friend, Rhinoceros Ezekiel. We now know that the student-led organization known as Dissenting Animals for Vulnerable Intertrophism Disunion, or DAVID for short, conspired to attack our academy in the way it was. And as you might have known, Ezekiel was the appointed leader of DAVID, meaning he was primarily… responsible. I grieve today not only for the horrible loss of life, but the loss of opportunity Ezekiel robbed himself of. And as the head of Noah's Arc, I come before you wracked with grief at my own inability to prevent this most catastrophic outcome.

"I… was aware of Ezekiel's behavioral issues. Why, he made sure everyone knew. If one thing is certain, Ezekiel was a natural born leader and extrovert, who fought tooth and nail for what he believed in. But I failed to direct his potential into a productive outlet, and instead allowed his issues to build and build… until, of course, we are all sat here. As we remember Ezekiel, for all his faults and strength, both of which are plentiful, I ask both faculty and student alike to ask themselves: how can we help those around us? How can we prevent the destruction of a heart? How can we be better?"

The goose coughs. His eyes, small and hollow behind his spectacles, scan the mass of young animals in front of him. "I admit I don't know what the future of this academy holds. And with pain in my heart, I announce that I will no longer have a hand in its future, as I am stepping down from my position. It's become clear to me that I am unable to understand and manage the minds of this ever-troubled era. Still, I proudly oversaw many generations of students during my years as principal, and I don't jest when I say that I truly love this academy. And I'm proud of you all. It is my fondest hope that both this institution and your lives prosper despite my shortcomings."

He sighs. "Now, our choir will lead us in a song that will hopefully reach our dearly departed Ezekiel."

A cluster of animals garbed in white scuffle up to meet the goose. Among them, Solomon centers himself inside the huddle which swiftly positions itself into two neat lines of singers. An older howler monkey, their teacher, breaks the sea of white with his black suit, and he turns to face the choir. With a silent inhale, he flicks his hand up. With that, they sing:

"On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross,

the emblem of suffering and shame;

and I love that old cross where the dearest and best

for a world of lost sinners was slain.

So I'll cherish the old rugged cross,

till my trophies at last I lay down;

I will cling to the old rugged cross,

and exchange it some day for a crown.

To that old rugged cross I will ever be true,

its shame and reproach gladly bear;

then he'll call me some day to my home far away,

where his glory forever I'll share.

And I'll cherish the old rugged cross,

till my trophies at last I lay down;

I will cling to the old rugged cross,

and exchange it some day for a crown."

Classes are cancelled for the foreseeable future. Until the academy thoroughly cleans the halls, sorts out the doubtless legal calamity that awaits them, and deals with the inevitable crash in student numbers. It's entirely possible there won't even be a Noah's Arc Academy after this 'foreseeable future'.

Good riddance, thinks Hafsa. She's been through hell for this school, and for what? A shattered reputation, emotional trauma, and a pile of dead bodies that just gained a new member. This place is cursed. It deserves to burn. Why did she ever fight for it?

The serval repeats these thoughts in an ever darkening spiral as she talks with fellow students. In quiet voices, they bemoan the sudden halt in their studies and swap horror stories of what happened to them on All Animals' Eve. Even now, the student council president feels obligated to check up on everyone, even though she can't wait to leave the gymnasium, pack up, and wallow around at her parents' place. She and Desmond are visiting Toma tomorrow, so she'll need to rest.

Along with the remaining members of DAVID, the panther was discreetly whisked away by security without a fuss, corralled into the principal's office while the police were on the way. Hafsa, Solomon and Brian got to keep them company and fill in Principal House on what they knew during that intermission, though the pigeon, who was nowhere near the incident at the time, had much less to say.

As for the handful of DAVID radicals, they had the decency of corroborating their plans. They wore wavering smirks, clearly tinged by fear but drowned primarily in resignation to their fates. They had expected exactly this.

What Hafsa, at least, didn't expect was the presence of one animal in the group. Missy, the vice president herself.

"I'm shocked, Sparrow Missy, that you of all people played a part in this." The goose said, voice heavy with disbelief. "You, as a star student of this academy, in the student council no less, with no shortage of friends."

"Well, you obviously don't know your students very well." Missy rebuked with arms crossed, slouched over her seat. Her eyes briefly flickered to Hafsa before recoiling once more to stare at the ground.

"Evidently not." House muttered. "Please, go on."

"It's as the others said." The sparrow shrugged, pointing her head at her herbivorous comrades. "Zeke called us all up yesterday with a plan. He had all the materials ready, we just had to set things up. Rigging up the lockers was easy enough, and I had access to the skeleton key."

"You really accepted the proposition so easily?"

"We were already thinking about doing something big. Something that would finally make you and the board directors actually listen for once." Missy spat. "You should be happy, at least. Zeke was the only person who died."

"Quite a casual way to refer to the death of your supposed friend." House raised a brow with noticeable contempt.

"Zeke was… In a bad way. For a while now. We all knew the risks, and he did especially. When he called us all of a sudden, we don't really know what happened to rile him up, but he was dead-set on making it work then and there. And of course, we all knew he had it out for that one."

She pointed a petite, clawed finger at Toma. "We didn't know he had a gun on him. Not that we would've stopped him, anyway. We were all on the same page. This was our last stand. Our manifesto."

The other herbies nodded in agreement.

House was not so impressed, however. "You consider this 'manifesto' to be a victory?"

"Not really. No carnies died, after all."

The bluntness of her words shock the room into silence, if only for a beat. Quickly recomposing himself, the principal continues.

"S-so that was your goal? You intended for carnies to die?"

"Well, the plan was for the carnies to go into a frenzy and cause as much damage as possible. Whether they attacked carnies or herbies wasn't as important. I was rooting for at least some of them to take themselves out. I like the irony of it. But I don't know… maybe we needed more blood."

A hippopotamus named Helmer chimed in. "We wanted to show the world how carnies are just monsters in disguise. Give 'em a whiff of blood, and they start slashing throats. What better way to show the truth in all its ugliness?"

"That's not at all what occurred."

"Tell that to Ezekiel." Missy countered. The goose didn't respond to that. "It wasn't as dramatic as we hoped, but our leader still got gunned down by a predator. That's what'll stick in headlines."

Surprisingly, Solomon spoke up. "I believe it will be your actions that go viral, Missy. You and your vile little crew who actively planned for and wished death upon your classmates. I almost applaud your unprecedented delusion if you somehow think your actions and beliefs are anything short of monstrous. You've dug your grave, and everyone is all to happy to see you lie in it."

Hafsa and Brian gingerly held him back, grounding back him into typical stoicism. He cleared his throat sheepishly. "I apologize for the outburst."

Principal House waved his apology off. "I don't blame you for your emotional response, Caracal Solomon. Even with all my years of experience, I find this hard to swallow."

However, Missy and the others only rolled their eyes. "We don't care what you have to say, Solomon. Or any meat-eater, at that. Noah's Arc is history, and we made history."

"I'm sad to see you haven't learned much from your lessons," The eldest bird shook his head. "Actions like yours will never be celebrated as history. Only as vile tragedies."

He turned to the student council and offered an apologetic smile. "I believe you've heard enough. You must be exhausted and terrified. Please, clean up, notify your loved ones, and rest. I'll handle the rest."

"Yes, sir." They all murmured. Hafsa gave Toma a final squeeze on the arm, a silent wish of strength for his inevitable arrest. He smiled meekly and exchanged curt glances with Brian and Solomon, who looked back with uneasy reassurance.

They passed by the DAVID radicals who all shot daggers at them. The serval couldn't help but stop in front of Missy. The sparrow's glare faltered for a moment.

"All this time…?" Hafsa dropped her voice to a whisper.

The bird cocked her head to the side. "As if you ever bothered to get to know me."

The serval signed. "You're right. I regret that."

That's the last thing they ever said to each other. Now they're in jail along with Toma, and Hafsa is here, attending a wake for the person she most despised. And worse still, grieving him.

Eventually, her classmates excuse themselves to ready for the school-wide exodus, and she finally has a moment to herself. She takes the opportunity to check her phone, finding the expected dozens of missed calls from her parents, and texts from Solomon asking to meet up before leaving. As she begins to type out a reply, a hand rests on her shoulder, but not one she recognizes.

The serval turns around, meeting the stern face of Superintendent Prince. She shrinks instantly, both from alarm and intimidation at the fallow deer's stature.

"Serval Hafsa?" He asks.

"Y-yes, sir."

"I'd like to have a word with you."

The feline's heart is racing as they exit the gymnasium, greeted by the chill of cloudy autumn afternoon. The superintendent guides them to the shade of a nearby pine tree behind the massive edifice, far from sight. The fallow buck doesn't look back at the girl as he releases a deep breath. After a few moments, he finally speaks.

"How are you faring, dear?"

doesn't expect that from him. The word leaves his mouth somewhat strained, as if he isn't used to comforting others.

"You don't need to worry on my account, sir."

"That's good to hear," Prince swiftly moves on, clearly relieved to have avoided a genuine answer. "I've heard from your… former principal of your courageous actions during All Animals' Eve. As your teacher, I am expected to admonish you for your recklessness, but I refuse to condemn heroism. Job well done."

Hafsa's whiskers twitch. Her ego can't help but relish any praise she can get, but the nervous feeling in her gut urges her to get over it. "Th-thank you."

"This isn't the first time your name has come up. It's my understanding you were similarly resourceful during last year's incident, along with Sheep Desmond."

If you consider being kidnapped 'resourceful'. "I'm glad he was there to help."

"Hm," He ignores her comment. "You and the other members of student council are commendable. House gushed about you endlessly. Truly one of the few remarkable students in this academy, apparently. "

"Thank you."

"Which is why I am about to tell you something confidential."

Hafsa gulps. Is she in trouble? Has yet another disaster happened? When will she finally catch a break?

"The panther involved in this killing. Panther Toma. Is it true you knew him well?"

"He… he's my friend." The serval's ears lower defensively. "I know what he's like. He wouldn't do this out of malice. It was self-defense."

Prince's nostrils flare, but his expression remains neutral. "So you say. I don't blame you for thinking so. It shows good character to stand by your friends."

His voice lowers even more, now conspiratorial and gruff. "I have been shown the case file of Ezekiel's death, including an autopsy. If you don't mind hearing something upsetting, I would like to share it."

Hafsa almost wants to say no. But of course, she slowly nods her head.

The buck continues. "The cause of death was determined to be loss of blood due to the gunshot wound sustained in his throat. It ruptured a primary artery and was undeniably fatal. The miscellaneous injuries and gunshot to the chest only resulted in minor bleeding."

"Okay…"

"However, other marks were found around his throat. Teeth marks, claw marks. Do you understand what I mean, Serval Hafsa?"

She does.

"That can't be…"

"It's clear evidence of predation. The body's integrity was slightly compromised by the water, so the wounds were somewhat distorted, but their nature still obvious. Whether deliberate or no, it seems Panther Toma succumbed to bloodlust and tore open Ezekiel's throat. He likely consumed his blood."

"No!" Hafsa barks, despite herself. "Toma would never! And even so, he would have told me if he did!"

"I'm relaying the facts as they have been told to me." Prince looks at her almost pityingly. "Facts that, by all means, I should not be telling you. But I trust your judgement, and trust you will use this information wisely."

"Use it how?" The serval asks helplessly.

"That is up to you. You can choose to stay by his side, you can choose to cut all ties with him. You can confront him. Or you can pretend you never heard this information at all. I hope you will keep it confidential, but ultimately, that is your choice as well. I just thought you should know."

"Am I… the only one you're telling?"

"Yes." The fallow deer's antlers brush the lowest branches of the tree. "Consider it a privilege of being student council president. Or being yourself."

Hafsa wants to puke. Is this really the truth? She's not even disgusted with the fact that Toma literally ate some of Ezekiel. She's done that with Desmond, after all. She understands the nature of bloodlust, and how it can blind an otherwise good person. But to hide it from her? That makes it seem... premeditated. Did he intend to hide it forever? Did he think he wouldn't get caught?

She realizes the real source of her disgust is the conclusion she comes to. Regardless of his reason to do it, or to conceal it, it will land him in real prison time. Not self-defense prison time. Even… murder prison time depending on how bad the defense is. And Toma doesn't deserve that, even if he does.

Somewhere far away, Prince's deep voice continues, and the serval musters all of her strength to refocus.

"That's all I have to say. I won't keep you any longer, as I'm sure you have much to do." He straightens his blazer. "I don't blame you if you wish to never return here. I'll frankly question your intelligence if you do. Or maybe your sanity."

He offers an exhale Hafsa interprets to be a chuckle. "Regardless, I hope to hear your name in the future. Whether it be as a student of Noah's Arc or as a member of society. Please contact me if you ever feel the need to."

The buck extends a calloused hand out to her, and she accepts it. With a final shake (most of which powered by Prince), he departs with long, swift strides, leaving the feline alone under the pine tree.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Eloise's bemused voice deadpans over the phone. Desmond almost laughs at her exasperation.

"I wish I was, at this point."

"Desmond, I really wouldn't wish your existence on my worst enemy. It's almost comical."

"You really suck at cheering people up."

The hare resumes her tirade unbothered. "I'm not trying to cheer you up. In fact, I believe you should is it you always end up covered in blood defending a predator?"

"It was self-defense." He's already tired of saying it.

"Well,you should practice some self-defense by extricating yourself from this nightmare. You have little to no involvement."

Desmond sighs, but it is through smiling lips. "That's not the kind of guy I am."

"Ugh. What did I ever see in you?"

"My handsome physique, obviously."

"Your only redeeming feature." Eloise chuckles before returning to her ever-serious tone. "So, did you call me simply to fill me in on your fascinating life? Do you need a place to stay?"

"I don't think staying with my ex is a smart move." He replies, flinging a shirt into his suitcase. "That would scare me more than sleeping in the black market."

"So you have some sense."

"I'm squatting at Enan's again. Stuck playing nanny."

Eloise huffs. "That doesn't answer my question, though. What do you need from me?"

"Ah," Desmond grows a little embarrassed. "I'm sorry, should I… not want to talk to you anymore?"

The hare doesn't answer immediately. If Desmond knows her, she's probably caught a little off guard, too.

"I mean… That's not the issue. I just assumed you wouldn't want to."

"You know what they say about assuming."

"Idiot." She chides in a fond voice.

"I guess I just wanted you to know. Tell me your thoughts."

"You know what my thoughts are." The leporid says. "Every iota of common sense points to you dropping all of this baggage and transferring to an all-herbie school."

The ram waits for a 'but'.

Eloise senses this anticipation and sighs. "But, since you're you, you won't. You'll stick by this messy case until its messy ending. You said you're visiting the panther tomorrow?"

"Right. Along with Hafsa."

"Of course." Desmond can almost hear her eyes rolling. "With you two together, I have no doubt things will take a turn for the melodramatic."

The sheep's cheeks reddened. "I don't know what you mean."

"Yes, yes. But I'm not too worried. You two are good at roughing it out together. I'd almost say you deserve each other."

"…Thanks?"

"Nota compliment. I just hope you have a modicum of self-preservation to know when things get too unsalvageable."

"Hm, not my strong suit."

"Oh, I know."

Desmond smiles into the receiver. "Thanks, Eloise. It was nice talking to you again."

"I'm a delight." Her voice softens. "Just… take care of yourself. You're not invincible."

"I will. Make sure you get enough sleep. Exams are coming up soon, right?"

"Worry about yourself, Desmond."

AN: Thank you for reading! Fully in the third act now, not much to go. Vote now if you're team Life Sentence or Team Getting Away with Murder!

Take it easy and stay safe.