“It’s so good that you found yourself a new lease on life,” Tangle says to whisper, massaging the wolf’s shoulders. “You’ve come a long way since, well.” “Since I couldn’t get my revenge?” Whisper asks. “I didn’t want to bring that up,” Tangle says, pecking Whisper on the cheek. “Bring up bad memories.” “It’s okay,” Whispers says, patting Tangle’s hand. “I’m helping people. I don’t need to get my vengeance. I’m finally… at peace.” — Whisper crawls through the dark room, her back arched, her fur frazzled, teeth revealed, even though she knows her opponent cannot see her. The fleeting memories of Tangle’s love for her disappear as she reverts to some primal self, something she wants to unleash. Something she needed to throw at the monster that ruined her life, but she couldn’t. A howl rises from the other side of the chamber, a deep-throated, out-of-the-chest battle cry that would fill a more civilized Mobian with dread. For her, she rears up and rushes forward, huffing, snarling, bounding against the walls, and hopping to a higher vantage point. She pounces where the sound came from, claws extended, ready to dig into whatever they run into. Lavender hops back, hearing his opponent leap down. He spins, kicking at her with his pointed, clawed toes. They slash at her fur, drawing first blood as it strikes her on the chest. So, his opponent is female. He could sense it a little when they first entered the room, but now that she’s close and excited by the thrill of battle and yelps in pain, he can catch that tell-tale whiff. Snickering, he licks his lips and charges forward. Whisper has her feral instincts, burning hatred, and years of training and fighting. She swipes at the approaching wolf, grabbing him by the side of the head, smashing him up against one of the walls, growling, leaning in, pressing her body against his, the warmth of her blood trickling onto him. He throws his head back, smashing it into her face, sending her stumbling back. The male wolf blots his hand onto his head, feeling that slick blood, definitely his. He shakes off, snorts, and tackles the female. Whisper sniffs and snorts, blood trickling down her smashed nose and to her mouth, soon falling against the wall as Lavender slams into her, digging his claws into her sides, snapping his jaws and snarling as teeth brush against her. She squirms and dodges, her knee raising up, colliding with his junk as he touches her shoulder. He yelps, tears welling up in his eyes. She doesn’t relent, repeatedly smashing into his balls each time a pathetic yiping yowl rises from him as his baby makers are crushed and pulverized. He opens his mouth and snaps it shut, chomping on her, tearing through muscle, making the blood bubble up, filling his mouth, and bloodlust. Whisper flails her hand at his face, digging deep against him, claws scraping down the side, tearing his brow, eye, and cheek. He roars out in pain as she slams her knee against his cock again, sending him away as he grasps his face, coughing, groaning. Whisper stands, grasping her shoulder, squeezing and unsqueezing her fist, checking to see if it still works. She spits, partially to get the blood out of her mouth, to disrespect her opponent, and then she kicks him in the side, sending him tumbling onto his back. She leaps upon him, digging her toe claws into his thighs, her hands straight for his throat. She presses her thumbs against him, leaning in, putting all the pressure she can, even though her shoulder pops and blood spills down her fur, and onto him, she squeezes. He gasps and gurgles, rocking about and grasping her wrists. He digs his thumbs into her arms, pushing her off him, coughing and wheezing as she tears free from his throat. The slick wetness of blood, maybe his, runs down his chest, and he gulps desperately for air, rolling her over and throwing punch after punch at her face as he pins her down. Whisper yelps and yipes as she swipes at him, but her dodges and punches her repeatedly, his knuckles getting bloody, and his vision, though pitch black, goes red. She grabs him again by the balls, squeezes, and squeezes! He roars, falling off of her, tearing up her arms, kicking up her legs, and whining as something pops down there, sending wave after wave of pain up throughout his whole body, his scream so loud and high octave as to pierce the dark room and reverberate all the way into the vent system. — Lavender sits alone after the group meeting, sighing fidgeting his fingers. “Hey,” Whisper says, sitting beside him, draping her arm over his shoulder. “Are you alright?” “I’ve… had a relapse today,” he says. “I saw them… all of them, mowed down by badniks, and… and the commander… he just… he just joked about it. He threw us into the meat grinder and then made a pun about the wave being washed out. I was so angry, and… and I imagined myself just… wringing his stupid red neck until those dumb purple eyes bulged out.” “Hey… no, listen, it’s okay,” Whisper says, pulling him close. “We can both get through this together, alright? That’s what the group is for.” Lavender smiles, leaning against her. “Thanks, Whisper. I know I can count on you.”