Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Chapter 1

There was blood everywhere. It coated his hands and chest, soaking his shirt and matting his fur to his body. Kuma couldn't hear anything over the sound of his own heavy breathing. He saw his friend (name), laying there in the dirt, deep gashes ran down his chest and into his abdomen. Life was seeping out of him.

Kuma was stunned. He stared blankly at (name), unable to move.

Did I just do that? Kuma thought.

Yes, we did.

No, there's no way! Kuma was still unable to move.

His senses started to come back to him. He started to make out the screams of the onlookers, friends and family, members of his tribe that were also training in the square. Their voices were muffled to his ears. He couldn’t make out their words, but he could feel their panic. A drip formed on his chin. He could taste blood. He prayed that the blood was his own, but when he saw the teeth marks on (name)'s leg he knew that his prayer was in vain.

Kuma could do nothing but stare at his friend, powerless, watching as his life slipped away.

Oh god, Kokebi, what did I do? He prayed.

She's not here. Said the quiet voice. It's just the two of us, forever.

Everything was red.

*****

Kuma woke abruptly to the sound of a guard pounding on the bars of his cell.

"Stop screaming, you're disturbing the other inmates!" The guard yelled.

"Sorry" Kuma mumbled as he rolled over to face the wall.

“Filthy beast” The guard cursed under his breath. He sheathed his sword and continued his rounds.

    Kuma could feel his heart pounding in his chest, as if it were trying to escape from his body. He rolled over and felt his cold wet shirt clinging to his back. The nightmares were getting progressively worse. Every night they grew more and more vivid, and they were always the same. Reliving that awful experience over and over again. However, it seemed to him like a just punishment for his crimes. He deserved this.

    He sat up in his cot, the idea of sleep having wholly left him. He was exhausted, but with his nightmares he knew there was no hope in trying to get back to sleep tonight. Even if he could sleep, he wouldn’t because that meant having to relive that hellish memory twice in the same night, and he could not bear to do that.

Kuma took his soaked shirt off and placed it over the railing of his cot to dry out. It was a good thing that today was laundry day, he thought, his shirt was starting to get rather ripe. The inmates were only issued two sets of clothing, and laundry was only once a week. For the average prisoner this wasn't that big of a deal, but for Kuma it meant wearing the same sweat-soaked shirt every day because of his perspiration during his nightmares. Kuma never felt clean, he was surprised how much he missed that feeling.

The breeze that always flowed through the drafty prison halls felt soothing on his chest. He looked around the concrete walls of his dark cell for what seemed like the thousandth time. Kuma was considered one of the more violent prisoners, based on his charges, so he didn't have a cellmate. In fact, his entire cell block was reserved for prisoners who were convicted of violent crimes and deemed too dangerous for the general population.  

Sometimes the solitude of his cell was a blessing and other times it was a curse. He did get lonely from time to time and wished he had someone tangible to talk to. That wish always faded quickly, however, as he would inevitably remember his crime and be grateful that he no longer had any connections. The more people he had in his life, the higher the possibility was that he would hurt someone; so Kuma resigned himself to be around people of any kind as little as possible.

Kuma reached up and ran his fingers across the surface of his small necklace. It was a wooden star pendant, no bigger than the tip of his finger, with a piece of twine that secured it around his neck. It was the symbol of Kokebi, the goddess of life and the stars. The guards let him keep it because it was too small to use as a weapon, and the string was too weak for him to effectively hurt himself with it. 

Kuma was very grateful for their allowance because Kokebi was his only relief from the solitude of his cell. He grasped it in the palm of his hand and, gripping tightly, began to offer her his daily prayer.

    “My dearest Kokebi, it’s Kuma again.” He whispered, keeping his voice low so as not to draw attention from the guards. “I had that dream again. As much as it hurts me to go through that every night, I am grateful for the reminder of my sins. I never want to forget what I’ve done, so thank you. I hope that this life I’ve been living here for these long months will be enough to atone. I plan to serve out my time here, living according to your precepts as much as I can. I am truly sorry that I betrayed everything that you stand for. I hope that when I finally pass away I will be worthy enough for you to guide me to the afterworld. Thank you, my god.”

When Kuma was finished, he brought his holy necklace up to his lips and kissed it reverently. His prayer was nearly the same every day. Kokebi, being the goddess of life, forbids the unnecessary shedding of blood. When Kuma lost control and nearly killed his best friend, he came within a breath of breaking the greatest of her commandments. It only wasn’t murder because the other villagers got there in time to treat (name)’s wounds and stop the bleeding.

Kuma pondered all of this in the wake of his prayer, like he did every time. After a few moments, he shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts. He didn’t want to spiral again and end up drowning in his memories.

To combat these painful memories, he practiced his akashic movements. He got into his opening stance and let his body slowly flow through the various forms that had been passed down through his family. Kuma's father was a Mystic and had taught him these movements when he was just a young boy. Going through them always brought back happy memories of his childhood.

As the movements channeled akasha into his body, Kuma felt his muscles relax and his tension ease away. At the first sign of relief he stopped his practice. He had been trained in the basic manipulation of akasha to aid him in combat, but Kuma was very careful not to channel enough for that. Any kind of mysticism was strictly forbidden in the prison, so if he channeled too much he might set off the alarms.

Once he finished his practice, Kuma sat on the edge of his bunk and waited for meal call. He didn't have to wait long.

"Up! Get up, ya dogs!" Came a coarse, familiar voice from the end of the hall.

Kuma could hear the sound of the other prisoners gathering themselves. Some of them yelled back at the guards in their groggy, half sleeping voices, screaming profanities and empty threats to their families and loved ones. Two guards, one on each side of the row, walked the length of the hall, banging their swords on the bars of each cell to wake the prisoners still sleeping.

"Get up! Morning Chow!"

Kuma waited patiently until they came to his cell. They were both young men, couldn't be more than twenty-five at the oldest. They wore the general uniform of the prison guard, a blue-grey vest over leather armor with a patch on the left shoulder indicating their rank. By the looks of it one of them was brand new to the job, but Kuma recognized the other one. He had started the job a couple of weeks ago and just recently finished his initial training. He must be showing the new guy the ropes, Kuma thought.

When they arrived at his cell, Kuma turned his back to them and put his hands behind his head, allowing them to attach the chains easily to his feet. He wanted to make their job as easy as possible so as to avoid undue attention, especially after his fit in the night.

"Good boy! It looks like someone's learning his lesson!" Said the new guard.

"Yeah (name)! This one is always so obedient, the beast'd make a mighty fine dog if he'd get on all fours!" Replied the guard Kuma recognized.

"Hey beastie, get on all fours!"

Kuma didn't move. 

"Did you not hear me beastie? Be a good dog and Get. On. All. Fours."

Kuma's bowels twisted and he felt the pressure welling up in the back of his head. He took a slow breath and swallowed the feeling. This guard was obviously trying to impress the new guy at Kuma's expense. He thought it best to comply, even though his body screamed rebellion.

He knelt down.

"Good boy! You see that (name)?' The guard said, pointing excitedly at Kuma. 'There's nothin' they can do about it. We're the master's here!' He turned back to Kuma. 

'Who's a good boy? What else can you do beastie? Can you bark for me? You look like you have a good strong bark! Bark beastie! Bark."

Kuma was struggling not to tremble and betray his rage. It was everything he could do to merely sit still. The guard got impatient waiting for him.

'Come on beastie, if you bark I'll give you scratches!' he said, mocking affection. 'Everyone knows that beasties like scratches!' 

Kuma stifled his pride.

'Woof' he said.

The guards jumped in excitement and clasped hands in celebration.

'Good one (name)!' said the new guard.

Kuma silently prayed that this was finally over.

'lets do one more before breakfast!' the guard teased. 'what's a good beastie trick?...I know! How about you roll over for me?'

At this, Kuma's trembling became visible. 

'What's this?' the guard asked himself. 'is this one too difficult for you beastie? How about a little incentive?'

The guard slapped Kuma in the back of the head.

'Good dogs get scratches and bad dogs get punished!' the guard yelled. His companion was sniggering with his hand over his mouth.

'Now, roll over!'

Kuma's heart was pounding. His instincts were screaming at him to tear at the abusive guard's jugular. His mouth began to water and he could taste the man's blood. Warm, smooth, and metallic as it ran down his throat and eased his thirst. Kuma wanted it. He needed it. He was bursting. He couldn't hold it any longer. 

"ENOUGH!"

The guard captain was walking down the cell-block towards them. He was an older man, Kuma supposed he must have been in his fifties, but years of experience had kept his body strong and youthful. He was an intimidating man, with a strong jaw and the smooth gait of one who had mastery over his every movement.

He is a formidable man, Kuma thought, he has definitely seen much combat in his years. I pity anyone who would face him in battle.  

'Stop antagonizing the prisoners.' there was a hint of weariness in his voice. It seemed to Kuma that this was an issue the guard captain had to deal with on a frequent basis.

'We was only havin' a bit of fun!' said the first guard, he smiled out of the corner of his mouth at Kuma. 'isn't that right beastie?' 

Kuma stayed quiet, he fixed his eyes on the ground.

'you speak when I ask you a question, dog!' the guard moved to aim a kick at Kuma's head, but his captain was faster. In a flash, he intercepted the blow with a kick of his own. He struck the guard's outstretched leg on the inside of the knee, deflecting the blow away from Kuma and knocking the guard off balance. As the guard stumbled, the captain rushed forward, caught  him by the throat with one hand, and pinned him to the wall. The Captain's free hand rested on a dagger at his hip.

'what did I just say?' the captain whispered, his mouth barely an inch from the guard's ear.

The guard tried to respond, but only managed a stifled gurgle. 

'when you disobey direct orders' the captain continued, still whispering, 'it makes me look bad. The Warden might think that I don't run a tight ship, that I can't control my subordinates. What good is a leader whose followers disobey?'

The guard opened and closed his mouth as if trying to answer, but no sound came out.

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'furthermore' said the Captain, tightening his grip around the guard's throat, 'your disobedience gives the prisoners funny ideas. We need order in this place, especially in this block. I can't have my prisoners resenting my guards, waiting for an opportunity to strike out in rebellion. A riot is the last thing we need.'

The guard's face was starting to purple. The Captain seemed not to notice and continued talking, this time more to himself. He looked up at the ceiling, his eyes far away in thought. 

'what do I do in this situation? I can suspend you, but you might just view that as a vacation, that won't do, you'll never learn that way...I could beat you, but that wouldn't make me any better that you are...I could lock you up in one of the vacant cells, but I would need the warden's approval and I would rather keep him out of this...what if I confined you with a prisoner for a while, let them teach you some manners. No, they might kill you! I would never hear the end of that!'

'sir...sir…' the new guard named (name) was tapping the captain on the shoulder.

'yes, yes, what is it?' the captain snapped out of his reverie.

'um…' the second guard said, pointing at the first. 

The Captain looked at the man whose throat he was still squeezing absentmindedly. His face was magenta now, eyes bulged and crossed, his head lulled to one side with his tongue slightly protruding. 

'Oh my!' said the captain, as though he had completely forgotten he was strangling a man. 'sometimes I get caught up in my thoughts and I completely forget what I'm doing, silly me!'

Kuma made a mental note not to cross this man.

The captain released the guard and let him slump to the floor in a pile, quite unconscious. He turned to the new guard. 'take him to the medical Bay and sit with him until he wakes up. When he does, let him know that I am revoking his lunch break privileges for a week for this behavior. If he has any words of complaint, tell him to track me down and we can have another…' a slight smile crossed the Captain's face, '... conversation. Is that clear?

The new guard nodded furiously without making eye contact. 'yes sir-- I'll do that sir!'

'Thank you,' said the captain, 'i'll take over your job from here.'

Kuma, still on his hands and knees, looked up and watched as the new guard struggled to drag the abusive guard out of the cell. He was obviously too heavy for him. He tripped and stumbled out the doorway. The captain didn't help, he merely observed the two with his arms folded, an amused look on his face.

"Sorry about that...Kuma, was it?" The guard captain was reaching out a hand to help Kuma up from the floor. 

Kuma nodded, but hesitated. He wasn't sure whether or not this was a trick. Guards rarely treated prisoners in such a kind way, and the ones who did often did so only as a precursor to a prank.

"Come on, it's okay" said the captain in a reassuring voice, guessing the reason for the hesitation "you think I would go through all that trouble to reprimand that little snot, just to turn around and behave the same way as him? Such behavior is beneath me. Now take my hand, I know it's difficult getting off the floor with those chains on."

Kuma slowly reached up and took the offered hand. It was an awkward feeling, as he had to reach with both of his hands because of the shortness of the chain that bound them together. The captain helped Kuma to his feet and made sure the shackles were still secure.

"I'll bet you lot are starving!" The Captain exclaimed more than he asked. Kuma made no move to agree or disagree.

"I know I would be. With all the commotion in here you're late for breakfast. The rest of the cell blocks are probably nearly done by now."

Even though Kuma's cell was towards the back of the block, the captain walked him past the other prisoners to make sure that he was at the front of the line. They glared at him, obviously upset that he got to cut the line. Some of them made silent threatening gestures, others whispered to each other as he passed, but they were all cautious not to be too animated in front of the guards. Kuma hoped this wouldn't cause him grief later.

The one exception to the disapproving prisoners was a short, skinny little man towards the front of the line named Scratch, who wiggled his eyebrows excitedly at Kuma and gave him a thumbs up. Scratch had always been friendly towards Kuma, going out of his way to greet him and make small talk. From the moment Kuma arrived here, Scratch had taken him under his wing. He didn't exactly know why Scratch had taken such a liking to him, but he didn't mind. He figured it was probably because he wanted to be seen with a friend that was more physically imposing. In this prison, particularly this aggressive cell block, size was a commodity, and small men like Scratch had a difficult time. They frequently got pushed around, or passed around, and Scratch probably figured that Kuma would protect him if he made friends. Kuma wouldn't necessarily call him a 'friend,' but it was nice to have a smiling face around to break up the monotony. He nodded at Scratch as he passed.

The guard captain made sure that everyone was accounted for, then he led the procession of prisoners through the corridors and down towards the mess hall. Kuma always enjoyed this walk. The windows were lower in the hall leading out of the cell block and offered the prisoners a view of the valley as they passed. Kuma looked out at the sloping green and the distant forest, miles beyond. The sun was rising, bathing the scene in a golden glow. The view always filled him with nostalgia, for beyond the horizon, deep in the Eastern forest, lay Kuma's tribe. 

His mind drifted to his family. Kuma wandered what they might be doing now. His father, as venerable as he was, was probably practicing similar, yet thoroughly more advanced, akashic movements to the one's Kuma practiced this morning. He was sickly, but his practice kept him strong and mobile. His mother, in her devotion, was most likely offering her prayers to Kokebi. She was much younger than his father and thus had much more energy. She was always busy, moving from one project to another, and Kuma remembered fondly his father struggling to keep up with her. Theirs was an arranged marriage, as was the custom amongst the middle- and upper-class members of the tribe, but their love and fondness for one another was wholesome and complete.

Kuma thought of his younger brother and sister and imagined what they would likely be doing at this moment. (Sister) was probably following their mother around, pestering her as she went about her activities. She wasn't old enough to be doing much on her own yet, and her little mind got bored easily, so she reconciled this by dogging her mother's every footstep and imitating her as best she could. Pretending to cook with her and miming her every movement. It was adorable. Kuma smiled to himself again as he thought of his energetic mother getting tripped up, slowed down, and frustrated at having a tiny little hanger-on everywhere she went.  

(Brother) was most definitely still asleep. He always had a difficult time getting up early. Kuma sincerely did not know what he would be up to today, or any day for that matter. (Brother) had taken Kuma's arrest and subsequent imprisonment harder than anyone else. He worshipped Kuma. He sought to be like him in every way. (brother) always asked to tag along to Kuma's training sessions where he would study his every move. Every now and then Kuma would practice with him and teach a few things about combat or Akasha. (Brother) was there when Kuma lost himself and nearly slaughtered (friend). Kuma remembered the look on his little brother's face when he came to. His eyes were filled with tears, betrayal, and terror. That face haunted Kuma day and night…

He wondered what kind of life (brother) now led. If he had ever been able to recover from the trauma inflicted upon him by his older brother. If he had achieved some semblance of normalcy in the long months since Kuma's departure. Kuma hoped so, he hoped his brother was happy…

The voice of the guard captain snapped Kuma back to the present.

"I want to apologize for what happened back there." the captain said, leaning close to Kuma so that no one else could hear him. Kuma tried to mutter that everything was fine, but the Captain's voice drowned out his reply. "I shutter to think," the captain continued, "that the only reason my guards treated you in such a way is because you're a Khendelian, but I know its true. Since taking this position I've realized that there is an endemic racism amongst much of the guard staff. As you are painfully aware, they generally treat those of the new races with disdain and reproach.”

Kuma wondered why the captain was telling him all of this, but he dared not ask or interrupt the powerful man. He spoke to Kuma almost like a teacher, like a guide or councilor. It reminded Kuma of conversations that he had with his father about philosophy and the nature of the world. The resemblance was unsettling. Kuma could not help but be suspicious of the intentions of a man in a position such as his, who would take a personal interest in the welfare of a random prisoner. There had to be an angle, some hidden motive behind the Captain’s cordiality, but Kuma kept his thoughts to himself and listened quietly as the Captain went on with his monologue.

“You see Kuma,” he placed his hand lightly of Kuma’s shoulder as they walked. Kuma could hear some of the other prisoners mutter at this. “Most of the employees of Greystone come from the surrounding villiages and providences. They’re small-town folk, many of whom have rarely, if ever, left their hometowns. Most of these people die within twenty miles of where they were born, having never seen much beyond the nearest ridge of the closest mountains. They only know of the Great Schism and the birth of the new races because we ship prisoners of all kinds here. I guess what I am trying to say is that these people are simple, ignorant, and quite stupid.” 

He smiled to himself and glanced at Kuma out of the corner of is eye. Kuma was staring vacantly at the floor, but at the pause looked up at the Captain. There was a smug, self-importance in that smile. Kuma wondered if the Captain expected him to laugh or respond in some way. He briefly contemplated smiling back, but ultimately decided against it. When the Captain realized that there was no forthcoming response, he continued speaking.

“I, on the other hand, am not from around here.” the smugness leaked from his smile into his voice. “I am from a small suburb of Cathrach Sriorai, The City of Gold. Have you heard of it?” 

Kuma nodded. Of course he had heard of it; everyone has heard of it. The city had many manes: The Eternal City, The Capital of The World, The Origin of Life, and The City of Knowledge were a few that Kuma had heard. He had never heard it called The City of Gold though; there were probably a thousand other names it was called by. It probably has as many names as it does people, Kuma thought wearily. He was growing tired of this talk, and growing to like the captain less and less with every word that came out of his mouth. Kuma wondered why the man couldn’t just tell him what he wanted. By this point Kuma was convinced that he was being buttered up by the captain for some ulterior purpose. His rust in him was at an all-time low. They were getting closer and closer to the mess hall and Kuma was looking forward to the excuse to separate from the him.

“I bet you are wondering what brings such a sophisticated, experienced, and well-educated man as myself to a backwater prison like this?”

The question shook Kuma’s mind back into focus. He had not been paying attention for some time, this man’s personal history meant nothing to him. However, he could not tell him that for fear of his reaction, so he nodded.

“Of course you were.” He smiled, “I became aware of this post as my retirement from the military was approaching. Not many people wanted to come all of the way out here, so I convinced my commanding officer to let me do it…for greater remuneration. In fact, they veritably tripled my salary! I’m getting slow in my old age and the front lines aren’t for me anymore, this seemed like a quaint place to settle down and get fat.”     

   He turned and beamed at Kuma. This was so odd to him. Guards did not associate with prisoners in such a way, and captains were rarely even seen outside of their offices. There has to be some reason for this man’s friendliness. Kuma could not stand the small talk anymore. If he offended the man and was punished for it, then so be it, but he needed this to be over. The whole situation was making him anxious, being in front of the rest of the prisoners and chatting so casually with the guard captain made his insides squirm uncomfortably. 

“Sir?” Kuma interrupted.

“Yes?” Said the Captain easily, as though he had been waiting for Kuma to say something for a while.

“What do you want” asked Kuma, his tone sounding more accusatory than he had intended it to.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Said Kuma, “why are you doing this? Guards never treat prisoners the way that you have been treating me. I can’t think of any reason why you would be talking to me like this unless you wanted something from me. What do you want?” 

The Captain stopped walking. The line of prisoners stopped abruptly behind them. They were staring at the two of them, Kuma heard some of them murmuring to each other again. Now I’ve done it. He thought I’ve gone and pissed off the guard captain. I’ll probably get beaten for it, but that’s okay. Any pain is better than the torture of that conversation. 

The guard captain merely stood there in silence for a few moments. Then looking him up and down, he smiled and said “I want to be your friend, Kuma.”

Kuma had no response for this.

“This is what friends do. They chit and they chat about everything and nothing.” The guard Captain continued walking, the procession followed. 

They rounded the corner and came to the mess hall. Judging by the amount of people already seated, theirs was the last block to arrive. The captain turned to the rest of the prisoners. 

“You all go on to breakfast now” He commanded in a kind tone, “and make sure to eat your fill, we have a big day ahead of us.” 

Kuma started in with the rest of the inmates, but soon felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Not you” Said the captain, “Not yet. I’m not finished with you.”

After the last of the prisoners from his block had passed, some of whom had shot him nasty looks as they walked by, the Guard Captain turned on Kuma again.

“Yours will be a special breakfast this morning,” Said the Captain “You wait right here and I will go fetch it personally from the kitchens. I trust you not to go anywhere or do anything foolish in my absence, after all we are friends.” He smiled again and entered the side door that led to the kitchen.

Kuma stood in the doorway and fumed. His only goal, as far as prison life had been concerned, was to serve his time quietly and not do anything to draw undue attention to himself. That’s how you survived in a place like this. Just in his short time here, Kuma could not count how many times he had seen an upstart prisoner come in and try to throw his weight around, inevitably ending up having an “accident” in some remote corner of the complex. Kuma himself, not long after coming here, had actually found some poor kid’s body laying crumpled under a pile of rocks in the quarry. The guards deemed it an unfortunate workplace accident. They said he was probably in the wrong place at the wrong time and had a load mistakenly dumped on him from the level above. Kuma knew better, he saw the body. Falling rocks don’t usually cut a man’s throat. 

The rumor going around was that the deceased prisoner was the son of a fairly wealthy merchant and his father frequently bribed the guards to sneak harlots in for some conjugal time. The prisoners didn’t like that one of their own was getting such special treatment, so they took care of him. Whenever a prisoner started to rise up in status, for any reason, above the other inmates, they were always knocked down a peg in some way or another. Standing here in front of the whole prison, after his uncomfortable exchange with the Guard Captain, was exactly the kind of thing that would mark Kuma as a target.

The Captain returned after a few minutes carrying a tray of food. Because the meals in Greystone Prison consisted mainly of the lentils grown by farmers in the various villages in the area, Kuma’s breakfast looked like a king’s feast. Not only were there lentils, but several sausages, a thick piece of bread with butter, and what looked like some kind of sticky cake coated in honey. Kuma’s heart sank as he felt the eyes on his back and plate. He was going to pay dearly for this.

The Guard Captain directed him to an available seat and placed the tray in front of him. 

“Enjoy!” he said with a wink and a smile, “I hope we can continue our discussion later.”

He left, and Kuma was left alone with an inappropriate plate of food, feeling as though he were surrounded by ravenous wolves just waiting for an opportunity to take a chunk out of his hide. He could hear the whispers around him, but chose not to look up. For a moment he contemplated not eating any of it, or at least just picking at the lentils and tossing the rest, but it would have done him no good. He was marked now, nothing he could do could change that. He might as well get whatever enjoyment he could out of this awful situation. He bowed his head and said a silent prayer to Kokebi in gratitude for his meal, then began to eat.

As he was tucking in to his second sausage, Scratch slid onto the bench across form him.

“What was that all about?” he asked, picking at his patchy facial hair and eyeing Kuma’s plate with an almost lustful look in his eye.

“I don’t have the slightest clue, he said he wants to be my friend” said Kuma “Do you want some of this?”

“Oh no, I couldn’t. I’m watching my figure” said Scratch, patting his bony self on the stomach and glancing up at the glaring eyes surrounding the pair. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to it, if you get what I’m saying?” he mimed a stabbing motion. “Why does he want to be your friend? Doesn’t he know that could get you killed?”

“I have no idea. And I have no idea.” Said Kuma, finishing the last of the sausage and picking up the buttered bread. “You’ll probably want to distance yourself from me for a while. If the rest of the prisoners are going to be targeting me then they might come after you for your association.”

“That’s actually what I came over here for,” said Scratch “I wanted to let you know that I would be hanging out with other friends from now on and I would prefer it if you stayed away from me. I don’t want to be a part of this. You’ve been a pretty good friend to me these last few months, thank you.” 

“No problem. I’ll see you around.” Kuma really didn’t care. He put up with Scratch because he wasn’t a threat. He understood that he needed to do what was necessary to survive in here. In fact, he fully expected the twitchy little man to turn tail at the first sign of conflict anyway. It was for the best, Kuma didn’t want him to get hurt.

     Scratch stood up to leave. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your meal, and I really hope its not your last.”

“Thanks” Kuma Said as he picked up the sticky cake and examined it. It had some kind of custard filling that he was pleasantly surprised with. “Me too.”

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