Verm, Jeb, Alfie, and Quintus Verm was floating, aimless. He did that a lot, but it usually wasn’t this literal. At first, he felt nothing in the floating, but senses came back surprisingly quickly. First, he noticed the sounds, rushing water. Next was the feeling of cold and the feeling of being tossed rather than just floating. After that, he started to notice the pain. His eye was burning, his ears were burning, everything was burning. He would have screamed if he’d been able, but he couldn’t even breathe. Panic finally set in. His head ached first, but then the panic became more primal. There was an overwhelming need to run, to survive. He struggled against the waves, trying to keep afloat in the rushing waters and darkness. Then, he woke up. With a start, the mouse’s eye shot open. Both eyes tried to. He had to force the wounded one shut before it overwhelmed him with pain. It already came close. He hissed and curled up in his bed as it hit him. The only thing that helped was to focus on where he was. Right now, he was in Vinium. The pink sheets under him and the purple brick walls made that clear. The smell of plastic made it clearer. He was in a bed too: a soft one. The sheets felt smooth like silk, and the cushioning under him didn’t scratch or shift much. It was a pillow. That meant he was in Quintus’s home. Sighing, the mouse closed his eye. It wasn’t his favorite place to be, but it was comforting knowing where he was. The paw that reached out and stroked his scarred back set him on edge, but at least it was real. He was pretty sure of that anyway. “Hmm… Ghost, my boy, you’re jumpy tonight. Another bad dream?” The shrew behind him ran his claws along the mouse. He moved closer until their bodies were pressed together. “I wasn’t too rough now, was I?” “Don’t worry about it.” The mouse tried to relax. The fondling wasn’t rough by any means. It was soft, gentle even. Maybe it was loving? It was definitely affectionate. Every second of it threatened to set him on edge and made his fur bristle. He focused on the feeling of the sheets. “How am I not to worry about my best worker?” Quintus’ spoke sweetly as he kept up his stroking. His paws lingered on sensitive spots, and he pulled himself even closer. “Why if you’re not feeling well, I would have to keep you in bed all day. One must take care of your workers after all. They’ll take care of you.” The mouse knew what Quintus wanted. It was why he was here after all. He didn’t plan to give it to him, but he made no efforts to stop the shrew when he started to get more deliberate with his fondling. His skin didn’t prickle any more when the shrew’s hand wandered to his balls and groped them, nor when that same paw wandered around his hip and grabbed at his ass. It was still deeply uncomfortable though, maybe moreso given that the feeling wasn’t entirely unpleasant. “I feel fine…” The mouse whispered something that sounded like an effort to excuse himself from both the conversation and the invitation. Quintus’ paws kept wandering, pressing under his tail. He knew there was no way to excuse himself if the boss wanted it, whether that was now or tomorrow didn’t matter. “I’m… good to work tomorrow…” As the shrew pressed him more, he started to feel out of breath. “I can…” “Oh? Very well then. I suppose I’ll just have to have my fill of you tonight.” The mouse felt a stronger prickle then. Quintus kissed the back of his neck. Then he rested his head on his shoulder. Something about the intimacy of the act set the mouse off more than the groping did. He could ignore being casually used by the shrew. Kisses weren’t supposed to be so casual. Even he knew that. He was thankful when Quintus pulled his face away and turned his attention properly to the mouse’s body. The shrew sat up, running his paws all over the mouse’s chest and legs, breathing heavily the whole while. His cock pressed against the mouse clumsily, mostly along the lower back, where the stub of a tail twitched. The mouse barely acknowledged the groping until he was ordered to. “Lift your leg for me, Ghost.” The order shot a shiver up the mouse. He gripped the sheets and opened his good eye again, staring at the walls. He was still sore from earlier in the night, and his ass started to sting, along with many of his scars. However, he didn’t even think of disobeying. “Go on then, yes.” The mouse lifted his leg slowly and lazily while Quintus pulled at it. He also allowed the shrew to lift the his leg over his shoulder, and made no more protest when he was turned over to Quintus’ preferred position. He did shiver when he had to look at the smiling shrew though. Quintus licked his snout hungrily while his claws ran over the mouse’s scarred body. The mouse could feel him getting harder and more eager. He was thrusting, aimlessly and reflexively between the mouse’s cheeks. “It’s almost a shame really, if not for these scars I could certainly adjust your contract. You could be so much more than a laborer.” He closed his eyes and nodded. “Well, I suppose I could even now, you know. The contract is mine to adjust as I like.” “I like the farm.” The mouse shut his eye and forced himself to be calm. The shrew’s thrusting was making him more sensitive, but he could hold steady through it. It nearly ignited an old spark, but his little reminder swallowed that. He could smell the dirt. It wasn’t far away actually. It calmed him. “Yes, yes. As you’ve said before…” Quintus moaned, continuing his stroking. Eventually he leaned forward, raising the mouse’s waist high and reaching for his broken ears. He stroked an ear, and then he stroked the mouse’s face. Again, it was too intimate. It made his fur stand back on end. “Just a kindness that you offer me this then? Don’t worry, you’ll never have to leave that little farm.” Quintus didn’t linger on the intimacy for long, thankfully. His paw eventually wandered downward and settled on the mouse’s hip while he kept thrusting. The mouse was able to breathe and let that happen. He allowed the shrew to lift and aim his hips and to prod at his hole. It didn’t feel bad when he finally slid in. It hurt with how sensitive he was, but it didn’t hurt badly. It was just like tensing an overworked muscle. That said, it did uncomfortably light that old spark some more. The mouse closed his eyes and cursed quietly. “Fuck…” When Quintus sunk into him, he wanted to kick, or at least to move. Part of him even wanted to shout. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to shout though, so he just kept mumbling. “F-fuck…” The spark was growing in his stomach, burning now. The worst thing about sex was that it felt pleasant. Quintus worked slowly at first, but it didn’t take long before he was drooling and pushing hard. The mouse’s dick pulsed with each thrust. It was a burning pressure that felt very similar to the one in his stomach. He liked it, and he liked it more when Quintus’ thrusting picked up a rapid, aimless pace. Sometimes, the shrew would even hit a spot deep inside him that made the burning feelings blend, overwhelming the mouse entirely. When that happened he had to grip tightly to the sheets for something to focus on or he would start shouting. The shrew liked when he did that. Spurred on by the mouse’s struggle, Quintus thrust harder and panted more openly. The mouse focused on the warm spittle that covered his fur and the feeling of the sheets wrinkling aggressively as they writhed together. He even tried to focus on the heavy weight of his muscles as he tried not to kick at the shrew. He needed to focus on anything but the fire in his stomach and in his groin. In the end, he couldn’t keep that attention away. “F-fuck!” The mouse shouted, making himself known to the whole farm no doubt. His legs gripped tightly around the shrew inside of him, and the fire burned away all other sensations as Quintus kept stroking it with his thrusting. “That’s right, Ghost…” Quintus sighed as he continued to pound away at the mouse. “Show me how much you love it!” The overwhelming spark somehow grew more intense as he went. Soon it burned away everything, with the mouse screaming out and coating himself in cum. “There it is…” Quintus grunted and kept thrusting, sparking more sensitive flares in the mouse’s belly. He slowed, thrusting harder, not quite letting the burning die down. Eventually though, the smell of dirt caught the mouse again, and he felt the tears in the sheets he’d made. The spark faded as Quintus’ thrusts slowed to a stop, and the flecks of spittle became drops of drool. “F-fuck…” The mouse sighed, allowing his muscles to become heavy again. He kept his eye closed. He had to will himself to let go of the spark, especially when Quintus pulled out, causing a small twinge of sensitivity in his ass to make him twitch again. Quintus got intimate again, moving up to stroke his face. Then he really had to force the spark down. He wanted to grab the paw and throw it away. He allowed it though. He couldn’t afford not to. “My lovely little foundling. Hmm…” The shrew hummed. Close as he was, the mouse could feel him humming. It reminded him of a soft pat on the head from someone he needed to forget. He turned away from the touch. He couldn’t stop himself. “I have to work the farm in the morning…” He groaned, turning his good eye away from the shrew entirely. “Hmm… So you do, I suppose.” Quintus hummed again, though, this time it was closer to a growl. The mouse’s ear twitched when he heard it, but it comforted him. That anger meant it was over, for the shrew at least. Quintus pulled away after that, and the mouse felt him climb off the bed shortly too. “Well, morning will be upon us soon then, no sense in wasting an early start.” The mouse felt a rag tossed at him. He caught it reflexively. It was familiar. Cautiously, he lifted his head and opened his eye to see the shrew getting dressed. He soaked in the sight. Then he looked past the shrew and focused on the purple bricks and the smell of dirt. He wanted to ignore the familiar smell on the rag as he wrapped it around his shoulders. His limbs were heavy, and he felt comfortable cold as he stood up to begin his work on the farm. --- The mushroom farm was peaceful, productive, and welcoming if you worked there. The mouse worked alongside a mole and a lizard who had been working the farm for seasons. He didn’t dislike them, though he didn’t think much of them. His focus was on tending the dirt. The monotonous tilling, planting spores, more tilling, and more planting spores was all he needed. Days like this were difficult because he didn’t get that monotony easily. “Another night with Quintus, huh, Ghost?” Jeb, the lizard, approached him during their break looking for some conversation. The mouse liked to work during the breaks. It wasn’t like he had much else to do. He tried to keep the conversation short. “Yeah.” He nodded plainly between swinging his hoe at the ground. It wasn’t meant to be a secret after all. “Dang. Looks like I owe Alfie a popcorn.” Jeb snickered and stomped his foot while he laughed. He said he smelled it on you. Didn’t have time for a dirt bath either, huh?” Mention of the smell made the mouse’s nose twitch involuntarily. He somehow hadn’t noticed the smell now that he was on the farm. Embarrassingly, the thought made him pause as well. He caught the mole Jeb had mentioned staring at him out of the corner of his eye. Alfie was shaking his head at Jeb. The mouse sighed and got back to digging. “Yeah. I guess you do.” Alfie calmed down then, but Jeb shook his head. The mouse noticed because he walked around him, making sure to catch his eye. “Not much to write home about then was he?” He smiled and laughed again. Then he went a bit farther setting his hand on the mouse’s shoulder. It made the mouse’s fur stand on end. “C’mon, sit with us and tell us all about it! We got a real good pick of the mushrooms today.” “It was fine. There’s not much to say about it.” The mouse bristled. For the first time that day, he turned to look directly at his coworkers. He hadn’t meant to glare. Based on Jeb’s reaction though, he had. The lizard backed off immediately, raising his hands up. The mouse actually paused properly and took a breath. “It’s really not a big deal.” Jeb kept smiling at him even though he backed off further. “It’s alright, Ghost. Maybe not our business.” He laughed again, setting a hand on his hip and lazing into a casual lean. “You, uh, know you don’t have to though, right? S’not in our ‘labor’ contracts or anything.” He glanced around cautiously, making sure that only the three of them were on the farm before continuing. “And it’s not like the sex is worth it, right?” The mouse shook. Jeb leaned in closer on the comment and shot him a wink. Reflexively, the mouse glanced away, though that only meant he caught Alfie’s eyes instead. When that happened, he turned back to Jeb and took another breath. “It’s really not that bad.” He closed his eye, taking in the smell of dirt. All the questions were frustrating. They were getting that little spark in his belly going again, especially when they made him think about last night. He needed to stop himself before he told his coworkers to buzz off. “Can we just get back to work?” Jeb laughed again, this time loud enough to really get annoying. He even stomped his foot. “Ah, man, you forget again, Ghost?” Completely forgetting the reaction from before, he reached out and grabbed the mouse’s shoulder again. This time, the mouse didn’t do more than open his eye. Apparently he managed to avoid glaring, because the lizard kept going. “It’s Chariot Chuesday! Quintus got a new champion today, so we got some free tickets to the circus!” Alfie finally chimed in properly, approaching the mouse and grabbing at his hip. “Wanna join us? You know, grab some wine, watch some death matches?” Alfie’s paw stroked down the mouse’s hip before letting go softly. “Come on, even a hard worker like you needs to relax now and then. ‘Specially when you’ve been working all night.” The implication was obvious even to the mouse. He tried to ignore the little spark that the touch was setting off now. He wanted to say no and get back to work, but the invitation lingered in the air uncomfortably instead. It wasn’t unlike Quintus’ invitation to his home. It was certainly less demanding, but maybe that made it even more welcoming. He accepted. “Sure, one time in a while can’t hurt.” He closed his eye again and breathed in the dirt. With that given to them, he felt comfortable backing away from Jeb and prying his shoulder out of the lizard’s hand. He could feel them watching him when he turned around and started back on tilling the soil. He couldn’t get the spark in his belly to go away, but it was faded, and he kept his skin from prickling. “I’ll meet you there after I finish up…” “You better.” Jeb hollered over at him. The mouse braced for another uncomfortably affectionate gesture, but thankfully, the pair started walking away before his fur even started to bristle. What they said as they walked away did make him shiver a bit though. “Alfie’ll be really looking forward to it. Promise you he’ll surprise you, Ghosty.” The mouse sighed and shook his head, then hurriedly got back to his tilling. The same thought that he’d had when Quintus first invited him to his home a few weeks ago danced through his head. Maybe it was nice to be wanted. --- The blood sport was strange. It was impressive admittedly. Isengrim shredded an imperator apart with her bare hands, and the ‘champion’ Quintus had pit against her barely managed to last ten seconds longer. It should have been exciting. It clearly was exciting, actually. Jeb and Alfie were cheering like crazy next to the mouse, even drawing his attention with shouts of, “Did you see that, Ghost!” Jeb lost all sense of personal space too, shaking both the mouse and the mole with every new move Isengrim pulled off. All the mouse could give him was an empty response though. “Yeah. Pretty cool.” The moves were honestly impressive. The way that Isengrim tossed opponents aside like they didn’t weigh anything and the way she leapt around was an amazing feat of athletics. It didn’t feel amazing though. Watching it all, the mouse just felt emptiness deep in his gut. Even when the chariots came out, they failed to excite him. Strangely, the only thing that even ignited a faint spark of feeling was the touch of his coworkers. Jeb shook him constantly. That was annoying. Alfie was cuddling up to him with about as much subtlety as Quintus usually had, with a heavy hand on one of his hips. That was annoying too. Staring at the fight it was easy to ignore those touches, but every pause brought them to his attention then. Alfie’s touch in particular kept that small, familiar spark in him lit. For that, the wine they’d bought him helped. It didn’t exactly quiet the annoying spark in his belly, but it did daze him enough that he could choose not to think about things. When he was a bit tipsy, he didn’t think of another mole he used to know or the obnoxious squirrel who would smack him cheerfully on the back like Jeb would. Much better, he didn’t think clearly about the mouse who used to tell him stories about muswolves, or how amazed that mouse would have been by the show he was seeing. The more wine he had, the more time seemed to float by. Without thoughts, all there was to focus on was the small sparks of his coworker’s touches. Then, those faded too, and, very briefly, he closed his eye and was able to ignore it all. Then, he was floating aimlessly again. Verm wasn’t used to being tipsy. When he’d first woken up he had been dazed, in pain, barely breathing. He’d stood up unable to see, much less recognize space. It had felt like he was still being tossed around by the current. He knew he had stood up because he was moving, but he had almost no sense of using his muscles outside of the searing pain it took him to make them move. Back then he’d wanted nothing more than for that pain to stop. He didn’t know why he kept moving. He had wanted to die. In fact, he was pretty sure he was already dead. He was seeing ghosts, hazy outlines of creatures in his one remaining eye. Panic set in, he squeaked and swung at them, fighting desperately through the pain and begging not to be taken. Quintus had caught him then. At least, he was pretty sure he had. When he woke up at the time the shrew had been praising him for his fine body and had men tending his wounds. This time, when his eyes shot open, Jeb was carrying him. He hissed and clung tight to the lizard, forcing his wounded eye shut as he did. He didn’t intend to hurt the lizard, but his claws dug harshly into Jeb’s overalls. Thankfully, the lizard didn’t seem to mind. He only stumbled a bit and laughed when the mouse suddenly went from limp to clingy. “Ha! Whoa there, Ghost! We’re almost home!” He turned and smiled at the mouse. The mouse responded by turning away, but didn’t release his grip. “Looked like we lost you for a moment, there. Didn’t think you would have so much trouble holding your wine.” “Thanks… I can walk.” In spite of his complaint, the mouse clung to the lizard. He smelled like dirt, familiar and comforting until they got to the farm. He shifted a bit, thinking about letting go, but when his legs shifted, Alfie’s hand caught him. It was just grabbing his hip to help him steady, but the way the mole’s claws touched him set off a bristling in his fur. That bristling felt welcome compared to the floating that was still in his head. “No need, Ghost.” Alfie smiled and walked ahead after giving the mouse’s hip a squeeze. When the mouse followed him, it was clear they really were almost home. The guards were even waving them into the farm. “Howdy boys. Nothin’ to worry about. Ghost just had a little too much to drink.” A small fire started in the mouse’s gut. The guards laughed at him. Alfie and Jeb did too. With the floating in his head, it made his ears ring. He clung tighter to the dirt scent. Thankfully it got stronger when Jeb walked them through the gate. He didn’t pay attention to the brief conversation. They said something about how glad they were to see him “loosening up.” There was also a comment to Alfie about how he’d “gotten ghost drunk.” Both comments stoked the bristling in his fur and the fire in his belly. The mouse closed his eye. Jeb steadied him as he loosened his grip. With the tipsiness it was hard to pay attention just to the smell of dirt. Jeb’s hands were on his rear. He couldn’t help but notice it. “Should I take you to Quintus, pal?” The mouse could hear the smirk, even if he couldn’t see it. “Seems like you’ve already got your pre-gaming done.” “Drop me in the dirt…” The mouse responded abruptly, shivering suddenly. The fire in his belly was swelling faster than usual. In a state like this, he didn’t want to be anywhere near that shrew. It would be too much. Though, he shortly understood why Jeb had assumed that was where he wanted to be. “Yeah? Staying with the boys tonight?” Jeb hefted the mouse a bit closer, and soon the mouse became aware that it wasn’t just the fire in his belly that was starting. When he briefly pressed against the lizard’s back, he realized his dick was hard. How that had happened, he couldn’t begin to guess, but the realization made his whiskers twitch. “Alfie’ll be excited. You know he’s got it up for you right?” “Jeb!” Alfie shouted from surprisingly nearby. He gingerly grabbed at the mouse’s hips, pulling him away from the lizard. The mouse let him lead him down. “It’s okay, Ghost. Let’s just get you settled.” The moles claws wandered over him. The mouse knew it wasn’t innocent. They slid under his cape and over his back, brushing his scars. It was uncomfortable, but he let it happen. He didn’t have much of a choice. The fire was most intense in the moment. The mouse’s hands lingered on Jeb’s shoulders while Alfie pressed against him. It was so intense he nearly lost it. His eye kept shut and the swimming in his head threatened to overwhelm him again. Then, it was cold. Alfie led him to the dirt gently. The mouse sighed, breathing in a relieved sigh as the smell and feel of the soil calmed the flame, just a bit. But then, he suddenly felt scared. It was a frustrating sensation, the swimming in his head got worse as the fire cooled, not better. He knew he had to put a stop to it quickly. Ghost gripped his head in a paw tightly and turned around. His fur was bristling wildly, and his eyes started to water. “I-it’s… fine…” He focused on the feeling of the dirt as he opened his eye. Alfie and Jeb were both standing close, looking down at him. He thought they looked worried. He had to settle them down, and himself too for that matter. “If you want… both of you… I don’t mind.” He spread his legs without thinking, revealing his erection. It was dying down as the flame did. Right now he was desperate not to let that happen. Alfie was uncertain about it. Jeb wasn’t. The mole blushed and stuttered. “A-are you sure, Ghost?” He walked closer, uncertain. Jeb just smirked. The strap on his overalls was undone in a second. Ghost watched expectantly as they dropped. He’d never seen the lizard naked before then, but it was clear he was aroused. The flash of pink against his brown belly made that clear, along with the sour smell he carried. He was on the ground with the mouse long before Alfie, and he caught both the mole and he mouse off guard with a kiss before either could react. The thin, whip-like tongue was strange, but not unwelcome at that point. Ghost embraced it sleepily, setting a claw on Jeb’s shoulder and allowing it to stoke the flame in his belly. The lizard wasn’t warm, but right now the touch meant enough. He was breathing hard when Jeb pulled away. “Somehow I knew you weren’t just a toy for Quintus, huh, Ghost?” He chuckled, pulling the mouse closer. Ghost let him. Soon, his hip was pressed against the lizard’s erection. “Looks like he’s for everyone, Alfie.” Ghost shut his eye. “F-fuck…” He sank against the lizard. He’d barely been touched and he was already overwhelmed. The smell of dirt didn’t help and he didn’t want it too. His mind threatened to drift now, even with the fire stoked. He faintly remembered Quintus, and his mind nearly remembered more. Then, Alife started to touch him too. “F-fuck!” The mole’s mouth was around him quickly. That warmth made Ghost bristle badly enough to recoil. He usually would with Quintus, but Jeb didn’t give him that chance. He caught the mouse, keeping him sat up and petting him aggressively. At the same time, he guided the mouse’s hand down to his own groin. Ghost didn’t do much more than he usually did. He let it happen. His hips thrust, and he tightened his grip around the slimy shaft he’d been guided to, but he didn’t do so with intent. Alfie and Jeb used him just as eagerly as Quintus. And it was just as frustratingly pleasant. It was even more frustratingly intimate though. “F-fuck!” He came abruptly in the mole’s mouth shivering as the fire overwhelmed him entirely. He dug into the ground beside them, viciously tearing at it for purchase that he couldn’t hope to find. He might have collapsed, allowing the fire to burn him away, but Jeb held on, keeping up his intimate stroking. The lizard would only let him fall back once Alfie was finished, and that took some time, time that Jeb spent intimately stroking every scar. The mouse opened his eye in time to see Alfie pull off of him. He was breathing heavy as well, still fully dressed and blushing, he smiled at Ghost. “Ha… Better than Quintus, I bet?” He winked. Ghost just blinked at him. He wasn’t sure how to respond, the opportunity to compare had never crossed his mind. He was making his best effort to make sure nothing crossed his mind in fact. If he focused on the intimacy, he might have started shouting and kicking. He made every effort to focus on the dirt instead, to not tell his coworkers to buzz off. So, when Alfie stripped out of his coveralls, he stared at the mole’s body, but didn’t give it much thought. “So… how far are we allowed to go?” At first, the mouse was silent, too tired to speak as the flame started to waver. A kiss on the neck woke the mouse out of his stupor. It was too intimate to ignore. Jeb’s tongue was oddly cold, chilling in a way that shook the mouse and nearly made him pull away. Jeb held him close, but he could have broken that grip. He chose not to, for a reason he couldn’t piece together. That gave him his answer though. “As far as… you want…” He groaned, leaning into the lizard and lazily lifting his leg for the mole. He knew what Alfie was after. It was simple, and strangely welcome. Ghost’s ass ached a bit when Alfie pulled in close, but it wasn’t a bad ache. His muscles were a bit weak right now, but not overworked. He could take the mole’s clumsy thrusting easily. Though, sadly, between the smells of the dirt and the cold of Jeb’s kisses, he wasn’t able to let the flame overwhelm him again. The thrusting simply kept a warm, flashing spark in his belly for the night. When the mole fucked him, it didn’t last long, but it was long enough. The feeling of being claimed, the smell of it mixing with the dirt, and the cooing he got from Jeb kept the swimming in Ghost’s head focused. “Damn, you’re a fine toy, Ghost.” The lizard pet him while Alfie hugged him, whispering the whole while. “Can see why Quintus is so sweet on ya’.” “Fuck…” Ghost sighed. He gripped lazily onto both Jeb and Alfie. Even with the spark lit, the floating was overtaking him more. Alfie’s thrusting stopped abruptly when he came, and Jeb let the trio fall back. Without that support keeping him upright, his mind started to wander. Thankfully though, it didn’t wander anywhere. “I get my turn tomorrow, right?” Jeb laughed. Ghost’s mind was mostly on the Lizard’s fondling, and the twitching of his cock. He was also aware of the mole lying on top of him. But, between the faint fire and the swimming in his head, the intimacy didn’t make him bristle. He thought about it, but only briefly. He wondered if he should allow himself to enjoy it. Ghost nodded. His paw was still on the lizard’s groin, covered in slime. He didn’t let go, cuddling closer in fact as he and Alfie adjusted. The mole slid clumsily out of him, and it burned. “Whatever…” He groaned and mumbled, keeping his eye closed. One spark strongly kept the flame in him lit, but surprisingly his consciousness lapsed. He had meant to say, “Whatever you want.” The dreams that night were empty as the battles had been. No pain, no headaches. There was the smell of dirt and the taste of wine, and most importantly, the feeling of sex. Uncomfortable as it was, Ghost woke peacefully the next morning, stuck between his naked coworkers, with the faintest spark of passion bubbling in his chest. After that, it was time to get to work. -- Quintus was surprisingly magnanimous about sharing his property. After they’d been discovered, there had been no reprimand of any sort. The mouse wasn’t sure why his coworkers had been worried about that, to be honest. He hadn’t been. He had allowed Quintus to use him after all, just like he allowed everyone else to. And soon, he was allowing everyone else to use him. Jeb called him the farm bicycle, some stupid old god saying that he didn’t bother trying to understand. The important thing was, he was useful here. He was wanted. Ghost thought about that as he dug in the dirt on one of his many days working the farm. It was easy to lose track of the time now. Every day was the same. There was a day of hard work, and a night of hard use. Nowadays, the old spark rarely died down, though, it also felt unlike the old spark in many ways. It was passionate, comforting, but not vicious. To his endless surprise, the mouse was happy here, happy enough that he never planned to leave. Sometimes, that made him uncomfortable, and he thought about how strange that was, though, only briefly. Most of the time, he could silence those thoughts along with his old memories. Work and use filled his time too much for them to intrude much nowadays. Between Quintus, the boys, and the guards his network of connections rarely allowed him the chance to float, even while sleeping The connections were too shallow for that, and he was happier for it.