The chaos was deafening. Colorful people scrambling in various directions. The hard, metallic clang of tables and chairs as they were knocked around. I would have easily been lost in the swarm, if it wasn't me they were giving a wide berth for.

            Well, me and the over a thousand pounds of horse that was hot on my heels.

            "Stallion!" I screamed my thoughts at him in vain. "Knock off the tough guy act already. You're about to seriously kill me!"

            Of course, the only response was the heavy, thunderous sound of hooves on cobblestone as Stallion pursued me. Part of me knew running was pointless. Dodging and weaving through crowds of people was only delaying the inevitable. Stallion was gaining on me. I didn't have to turn around to know for sure.  

            Without any other option, I gave up with the secrecy. As I continued to take advantage of any tight turns or small crawl spaces I could find, I attempted to lay it all out to my former friend.

"Look, Stallion—" I paused as I slipped through several pairs of fleeing legs. I bit back a yelp as I nearly tripped over a fallen chair. "Okay! Listen! We're still on the same team, aren't we? You're still my friend...aren't you?

            A black hoof penetrated the ground less than a few inches from me. While I wasn't hit, the blowback sent me off my feet and tumbling out of control.

            I regained my footing almost immediately, but, again, it didn't add up to much. I was stranded, alone, in a sea of toppled chairs, tables, and giant umbrellas. My only companion was a horse more than ten times my size, stomping it's hooves as it stared me down.

            Even if there wasn't some big tabletop blocking my immediate retreat, I wouldn't get far running any longer. All the people I had been using as obstacles were long gone. I couldn't even see how Hornroot was faring. Though I doubted even a familiar of his caliber would do well against a witch who could turn her skin into freaking metal.

            Stallion took a few steps closer. His new horse form was somehow even more imposing than his bulky human body. Though, maybe it was because I saw nothing of the Stallion I knew in its long, gaunt face and its black, soulless eyes.

            Still though, I had no other choice but to try.

            "Stallion..." I tensed when the horse drew a few steps closer and a dry sort of whinny escaped from its mouth. "Listen. Just hear me out for, like, ten seconds, okay?"

            No response, but the horse didn't move, either. All I could assume was that the clock was ticking.

            "Mouse found a way for us all to see each other again. If my ten second rule is still applying, I don't have time to get into the details, but I have to know that you are still with us. You remember that promise we made, don't you?"

            The horse stamped its hoof again. It didn't move, but I did not hear Stallion's voice. I felt something tug at my pathetic little fox heart. I couldn't stand to see his black eyes anymore and moved my head to the ground before closing my eyes.

            "If you're going to kill me, just get it over with. Stop fucking with me already."

            "Shit, Foxy, there you go being all dramatic again."

            I shot my head up and my eyes flew open in the span of a single instant. Nothing changed in the horse's stance or expression (though I suddenly wondered how I expected a horse's expression to 'change') but I knew I heard it. Stallion's voice. The real Stallion.

            "You need to get moving again. Thirty meters to your left is a way into the underground subway."

            There it was again. I couldn't believe it. Stallion's voice. His actual, real, non-shitty-toned voice was speaking inside my head.

            Suddenly, everything made sense. "You asshole!" I shot back.

            Another huff from the horse—somehow, I knew it was him laughing at me. "Chew me out later. Your buddy's birds are on their way here. If you want to clue me in on what's going on, we gotta lose them first."

            It didn't take long to spot the trio of owls in the distance. I had forgotten until just then that Hornroot had hidden a whole flock of the nasty things on the outskirts of the city. While we weren't far from said outskirts, I was amazed at how fast they could move.

            "Right, okay. Might be easier said than done, though," I thought back as I took off running in the direction Stallion had indicated. The horse was quick to 'pursue' me.

            "Just get to the subway and run where I tell you. We might be out of your friend's range, but radio silence until we get underground, alright?"

            "Fine. But please don't call that old bastard my 'friend'. I've suffered enough humiliation for one day."

            "Fair enough." I could almost hear the humor in Stallion's words as they echoed in my head.

            If a fox could smile...

...

            The desire to smile did not last long. What Stallion failed to mention was that the 'entrance to the underground subway' was nothing more than a sewage drain in the side of a nearby road. Stallion managed to give me some hasty instructions before I slipped through and fell outside our 'range' for brain communication—or whatever you call it. I'd have to ask Hornroot what I was supposed to call this new way of talking.

            That is, if I ever saw him again.

            Nope, no thinking like that, Alex. Hell, it would be better if I didn't see him again. Then I would be free to find my friends without having to constantly look over my shoulder.

            Pushing aside those thoughts for the moment, I focused on getting through the sewers. It was dark, but darkness was one of the few things I didn't have to bother much with after having my new body dumped on me. It was the smell I had to contend with as I sloshed my way through sludge and damp clumps of things I tried to pretend weren't there.

            I had gotten a lot better at dealing with my new extraordinary sense of smell. Not just honing in on smells, but pushing back the invasion of smells when I didn't want to be bothered with having to notice them. But sewage was a new obstacle entirely. No amount of focusing on the task at hand, distracting myself with thoughts of Kat, or general denial was making the smell any less poignant.

            "Damnit. For all I know, Stallion was actually with the witch and this was just an elaborate way to give me the the runaround. I could be walking into a trap..."

            Despite my desperate need to escape the smells of the sewer, I stopped moving. Stallion had warned me about some of his Master's people possibly being in the less dry and stench-filled tunnels, but that may have been just to put me at ease. To trust him.

            His voice didn't come back to reassure me that I was wrong. I couldn't go back the way I came in case I was right. The whole reason I was down here was because I had faith that Stallion was still my Stallion.

            Might as well keep moving and keep hoping.

            Fortunately, the damp and putrid tunnels did not last long. After a few minutes of traversing through the tunnels the way Stallion had indicated, I soon found myself on the edge of one slick pipe that dropped down to a much larger, drier one.

            Unfortunately, I was no longer alone.

            "To hell with this shit, man, why don't they label these damn things?"

            There were two men dressed in dark clothing going through large crates set up against the side of the tunnel opposite of where I stood perched in my pipe. One had a crowbar and was in the process of wedging one of the crates open while the other stood by with a clipboard.

            "Uh, maybe because they don't want to advertise that there are drugs inside?" the one with the clipboard responded.

            The man with the crowbar paused midway through cracking the crate open to shoot his companion a foul look. "Don't get smart with me, Christopher. What I meant was why don't they, like, label the shit something different. Like, teddy bears for cocaine, minerals for meth, or Mike n Ike's for...what's that new crap in the pill?"

            "Sandman's Sand," the one called Christopher supplied.

            What?

            "Right, that shit." The man with the crowbar went back to forcing the crate open. "'Sandman's Sand'. Sounds like some weak-ass narcotic cooked up in a tween's basement."

            "I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss it. Greg and Sanchez tested it out last month and they still go on about it like it happened the other day."

            There was no way. No way was this 'Sandman's Sand' the same as Ash's Dream Sand.

            "Sanchez ain't that far off from those 'tweens' I just mentioned," the other man replied between grunts of effort as he put his weight into the crowbar. "And Greg's just a—"

            The man cut himself off when the top of the crate flew open and slammed into the side of the tunnel.

            Not wasting the opportunity, I leaped down from the pipe and circled around the two men as the lid clattered noisily to the ground. More than likely, I could have continued my escape but chose instead to hide behind one of the other already opened crates. I had to know for sure.

            The two men did not move and appeared to be holding their breaths as the noise from the collision echoed down the long, dark tunnel. Neither one said a word until the noise died away.

            "Shit, Nathan," Christopher said with a laugh as he shook his head ruefully. "You trying to alert everyone to our misdeeds?"

            "Bah, they're all busy upstairs with that Lady character and her monsters, aren't they?" Nathan said with a dismissive grunt. Bouncing the crowbar off a bulky shoulder, he walked over and peeked into the newly opened crate. "What—What the hell is this stuff?"

            I slipped my way behind the other crates as I neared the one Nathan was hunched over. Christopher moved closer and peered over his companions shoulder.

            "It's your 'Mike n Ike's'," he said with a smirk.

            I watched as Nathan reached into the crate and pulled out a pill bottle. He held it up to a lantern that was hanging on the wall(which I just then realized must be their only source of light) and shook it around slightly. Six or seven little blue pills danced around in their prison.

            "Easy with the merchandise there, Nate," Christopher chided.

            "This is Sandman's Sand?" Nathan asked. His companion must have assumed he was talking to himself, because he did not answer. "Why seven? And why are they already in bottles?"

            "Do we really have to get into this now? The others might be busy upstairs for now, but it won't be that way forever."

            "Christopher, if you want me to help you steal from the leader..." Nathan turned from the crate to shove the bottle of pills in Christopher's face, "...then I want to know what, exactly, we're stealin'."

            I made my move, making a beeline to the crate of 'Sandman's Sand', as Christopher sighed and delicately plucked the pill bottle from Nathan's hand.

            "Sandman's Sand..." Christopher said, holding the pill bottle between the two of them, "...is a narcotic with a quick, yet powerful high."

            The crate was far too tall for me to just climb into. And there wasn't enough room for me to get a running start to try and jump into it.

            "You take it just before you fall asleep and you become a God in your own personal dream world. From what I am told, it is an experience like no other."

            Christopher still held the pill bottle in his hand as he and Nathan looked down on it in wonder. If I looked close enough, I could tell where the edge of the light from the lantern fell. I moved quietly outside of it, in the darkness that was pitch black to the human eye, but clear as day for mine.

            "You think Son'll notice if we nick a few? Just one for each of us?" Nathan asked, his voice no more than a whisper.

            "Don't be foolish," Christopher said, moving away from Nathan and back towards the crate—no doubt to put it back inside. "We're just here to sow some doubt in our leader's mind. Nothing more—"

            Christopher stopped talking and stopped walking when I let out a short yelp noise. I was still working through all the weird and random sounds I was still able to produce from the mouth of a fox. Growling was still the only thing I was a master at, but I needed something that would quickly catch their attention. So, I attempted to recreate the noise I made when my Master kicked me in my face.

            "What the hell was that? A dog?" Nathan said at once, straightening up and staring in my direction. For a moment, I was worried I had misjudged how dark it actually was in this sewer. "Shit, Christopher, you don't think it's one of that crazy bitch's..."

            "What did I say about being foolish, Nathan?" Christopher chided. He moved away from the crate and a little behind his slightly larger counterpart. "Our leader and the Madame have an agreement, remember? She wouldn't be this quick to try and betray it, no matter how insane she might be."

            "Then why does it look like your tryin' to use me as a shield?"

            "It never hurts to be cautious." Christopher nodded to the lantern still hanging from the wall. "Now, grab the light and find out what's out there."

            "Like shit. Why me? And why the hell do you think I would do it right after what you said about being cautious?"

            "Because I let you in on my plan for your brawn, not your brains," Christopher answered, waving his hand to the light. "Now hurry, before whatever is out there takes advantage of us fighting amongst ourselves."

            With a heavy grumble, Nathan made for the light. "If you think you ain't getting away with a punch in the jaw, you are sorely—"

            I moved even before Nathan had reached the lantern. I sped behind the crates, out of Christopher's line of sight, and dug my teeth into Nathan's ankle the moment he pulled free the lantern from its spot.

            "Shit—What the fuck?!"

            Like I had been desperately hoping, the lantern fell free from his hand and onto the floor.

            Like I had been dreading, the light did not go out.

            "Something just fucking bit me!"

            "There! Nathan, it's at your feet!"

            No sooner had I released Nathan's leg then his other foot came around and struck me in the side. It was enough force to send me into the side of the tunnel, but not enough to keep me from recovering right away. I could only guess that Nathan landed a lucky blow.  

            "I think I hit it! Where the hell did it go?"

            Christopher spotted me right away. I was moving again as he pointed. "There! Shit, Nathan, its heading back for you!"

            I managed to dodge another flailing kick before reaching the lantern. I managed to get it awkwardly between my teeth before I felt a pair of powerful hands squeeze around my waist.

            "Fuck fuck fuck! I think I got it—!"

            Without thinking if I was even physically capable of doing so, I swung the lantern still in my mouth towards Nathan as he pulled me into the air. With a satisfying shatter, the light impacted with the side of the crook's head and Nathan let out a curse as he dropped me and all light for the two men disappeared entirely.

            "God fucking dammit!"

            "Nathan? What the hell happened?"

            I didn't waste any time as I landed on the ground, taking off towards the other criminal as fast as I could. Before Nathan could finish explaining how he was beaten by a weak, little fox, I leaped and clamped my jaws shut on Christopher's wrist.

            Stale blood flowed freely into my mouth as Christopher let out horrible cry that sounded like a drowning moan. I heard the faint clatter of the pill bottle hitting the floor and immediately released the man. I was anticipating retaliation when I did, but Christopher just continued his strange, gurgling moan as he held his wrist and fell back against the wall of the tunnel.

            Nathan was still cursing and kicking at nothing as I left the two men in the pitch black tunnel.

There was a new, lighter feeling in my chest as I continued running the path Stallion had indicated, the bottle of 'Sandman's Sand' locked securely in my jaws.

It was the first time since being burdened with this body that I did not feel completely useless.

...

*Author's Note*

Nice job, Foxy, you stole drugs from a couple of criminals. You hold on to that pride, my friend, don't let anyone tell you otherwise!

So, do you guys think he should feel proud of his accomplishment? Does this fortuitous turn of events mean even more on on the horizon, or is this just a momentary respite before even more dark and dangerous happenings? Whatever your thoughts, I'd love to hear them!