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      "description": "[i]\"As the weather gets colder, Remmy adapts to his new nightly routine.\"[/i]\n\n[section=Story]A sharply bending chord from The Ramboy Dukes jolts me from sleep. I twist weirdly in bed to slap my phone and shut it off, but a sharp pain in my shoulder makes me immediately regret it. Grumbling, I roll to a sitting position, squint against the blinding glare of my phone, and try to shake off the cobwebs of a strange dream about showering with my shirt on.\n\nOne unread message.\n\nI'm on my feet in a minute. Two. Clock says 8:02. My crumpled headwool sways with each step and my hooves finally stumble to the window of my darkened room.\n\nThe downtown lights stretch on to the horizon. Silhouettes of skyscrapers stitch a ghostly skyline, fanning out glowing streaks of red bumper lights along every major artery, pumping from Peak Street all the way down to Pack and beyond. Most of the city is winding down and getting ready to sleep.\n\nBut the neighborhood around me is loud, alive.\n\nMammals up late, nocturnal by nature or otherwise, lope and shamble across the cracked sidewalks. A bat-eared fox in a puffy throwback vest catcalls a pair of passing dingos who carry long-handled nets and plastic boxes. A small group of painted dogs yip and chatter around the stoop of the building across from me, each one with the gleaming orange embers of a lit cigarette. A floor below, on the steps of my building, the Crowns, a mongoose basks quietly, watching the sky.\n\nI smirk to myself, crack the window, and lean out.\n\n\"Hey, Keith! How you been, man?\"\n\nThe mongoose looks around slowly, sleepily, before turning up to spot me. He nods at me with a broad smile and mouths something, but if he's saying anything, I can't hear him.\n\nThen he goes back to watching the sky.\n\nI've come to like the night. As a ram, I'm diurnal by nature, so adapting to an almost completely reversed timetable wasn't super easy, but I got the hang of it quick enough. And one thing I've learned is Pack Street is always quietest in the midday. Plenty of nocturnal mammals around here, like I said, but even more that are [i]crepuscular[/i]. I learned that word a while ago. It means they're most active in the times between day and night. Morning, evening, times like around now. Catch the crepuscular mammals, plus the best overlap for diurnals who aren't ready for bed yet and nocturnals up early, or who stayed up all... day? \"Stayed up all day\" sounds dumb, but what else are you gonna call it?\n\nAnyway. That's when this street is the busiest.\n\nThat's when all the [i]parties[/i] happen.\n\nI check my phone. 8:15. Gotta get this show on the road. I toddle off to the bathroom, to wash my face in the mirror.\n\nA splash of cold water. I'd say it helps wake me up but I'm plenty awake by now. Feeling fine, actually. I yawn, stretch, scratch my snout. Trace the line where I know the scar was, even though I can't see it.\n\nDo you know how much it sucks that the scar didn't even [i]last?[/i] I could've had a super cool fucking [i]face scar.[/i] The prettyboy kind, too, the kind that doesn't leave you even a little disfigured or anything, just gets all the girls thinking you're cool and dangerous. Could've at least left me a white line or something distinct I could talk about at parties. But the damn thing was totally gone in just a couple months. Sucks. It's like I basically got jumped for nothing.\n\nI start for the shower, but catch myself. Might as well start my laundry now, have it going while I wait. I click on the main lights in my apartment, finally. Then, throwing in a few last-minute articles, I heft my old plastic hamper full of dirty clothes and haul myself to the door.\n\nDown the broad stairs. I figure this apartment's rated for mammals a few sizes bigger than me, and paws aren't as compact as hooves to begin with, so they need the extra space. When I first moved in, I hated how long each step was. Now I'm glad to have it, especially when I can barely see over my laundry to the next step.\n\nChatter in the lobby. This time of night, it's not unusual. Charlie sits hunched forward in an old wood chair, talking rather more animatedly than I'm used to seeing her. Her big fluffy fox tail swishes and she even gestures, drawing little diagrams in the air and making precise motions. Ozzy's lounging on the even older sofa, wearing the sort of toothy grin I've come to expect out of most hyenas, and returning her enthusiasm with plenty of his own. I give them a wave, but only Charlie sees me, and she manages just a faint nod before returning to her conversation.\n\nI swing down the hall out of the lobby, past Ozzy's apartment door, and finally down the cold concrete stairs. Everything down here's concrete. There's not so much as a dangling bare lightbulb in the narrow basement hall. But the room up ahead, off to the side, always has a dim yellow glow spilling out. A cozy little hot-denim-scented beacon in the dark. A growing hum and loud conversation I can't quite discern lets me know it's occupied.\n\nI hustle into the room (because the laundry's heavy, not because I'm scared of the dark) and heave my basket onto the flaking laminate countertop.\n\n\"Look who's here.\"\n\n\"Hey, Anneke.\"\n\nI shove my laundry aside to greet the lithe, half-dressed aardwolf lounging on one of the dryers that line the far wall. She's got a loose tank top and a pair of gray leggings on. I'm not sure I've ever seen her in leggings. They make her lower half look super skinny, pulling all the puffy fur around her legs tight to the skin and outlining the slender curves underneath.\n\nIt's a good look. Like, a really good look. It also makes all the fur around her hips bunch up and fluff way out, like she's wearing someone else's lower half. I guess if she shaved, she'd look like this all over. You know, mammals say shaving is weird, but nobody thinks twice when I shear. I dunno. I think she'd look pretty cute all sheared down. It's like... another layer of naked.\n\nShe leans forward, elbows on her knees, idly kicking her feet over the edge of the rattling machine. And only now do I notice a dark-furred jackal standing motionless against the wall to my left. I meet her gaze, but I can't help but notice she's even [i]less[/i] dressed, wearing only a surprisingly plain white bra and panties. I'd never have imagined Avo even owned such unadorned undies. And that creamy mocha-colored underbelly of hers running from her neck to her--\n\nI looked. She saw me look.\n\n\"Damn,\" I sigh, running a hoof through my headwool and openly glancing between the two of them. \"I must still be dreaming.\"\n\n\"Shut the fuck up,\" Avo rolls her eyes.\n\nAnna giggles. \"Nice jammies.\"\n\nI take the opportunity to look her up and down a second time. \"You too, girl,\" I smile as smoothly as I can, which probably isn't very.\n\nShe responds with a sort of low purr or growl, batting her paw at me in the air, and Avo shakes her head. I slide my laundry basket to one of the empty machines and start loading it.\n\n\"Hope I wasn't interrupting anything.\"\n\nThe dryer Anna's sitting on suddenly kicks onto high cycle and her speech becomes juddery. \"HeY, iT's bEeN cOlD, rIgHt?\"\n\n\"I heard we're gonna get a really sharp winter this year,\" I agree, loading clothes and grabbing the detergent from the bottom of my basket. \"Gonna be my first winter here, actually. Does it get bad?\"\n\n\"Well,\" Avo begins to say something, then pats her hips with both palms, peering down for a second at herself. She shakes her head, then re-crosses her arms.\n\nAnna smirks but I guess I'm missing something.\n\n\"Well,\" she starts again, \"We're almost right up against the R-S weather wall. So things can get pretty extreme in peak seasons.\"\n\n\"Y'know, I've never actually gone past the wall here,\" I remark. \"There not a lot of travel, or is it just me?\"\n\nShe makes a noncommittal shrug. \"I take a stroll to Shady every now and then. You could walk to Marsh from here, too, which you'll basically have to if you want to catch any of the other main lines.\"\n\nI fish some coins out of my pocket and load 'em up. \"Yeah, I saw that. I mostly just took it to get to work, when I was working way out in Tundra. I can't believe how few connections the lines have. Just looking at the subway map makes me think I'm losing my mind.\"\n\n[b]\"Yeah,\"[/b] she almost barks back. \"The actual service is great but the lines are a fucking joke.\"\n\nEvidently bored by the ongoing discussion, Anna stretches, first with paws down towards the ground, looking like she'll topple forward off the dryer, then all the way up, high in the air. Her long, bare, fuzzy midriff peeks inch by inch from under her top and it takes all my willpower to look away before she notices.\n\nAvo is staring at me with one raised brow and a calm smile.\n\n\"...So uh, is there really no connection at all between the Z and the Inner Loop around here?\"\n\n\"Yeah. It's [i]Marsh[/i].\"\n\nI compose myself as best I'm able and pop my coins in, starting the machine. \"For real? So I can walk ten minutes to Marshlands or--\"\n\n\"Yeah, or take the southbound Inner ALL the way around.\" She's suddenly a lot louder, to be heard over the growing din. \"You want to go [i]anywhere[/i] west from here, you walk or you ride the entire loop the other way first.\"\n\nI leave my detergent bottle in the basket and heft them both onto the now-rattling washing machine. \"Is there no connecting bus?\"\n\n\"Can we shut up about buses and trains? They're for nerds anyway, you're both nerds.\" Anneke hops off the dryer about when her teeth start chattering.\n\nAvo scoffs playfully, jabbing a claw at her. \"Two minutes ago you told me you were up all day playing Erminecraft.\"\n\n\"That's not nerd shit,\" she retorts, unbothered. \"Everyone plays Erminecraft. Anyway, shouldn't being this close to the wall make the weather more mild? At the least we should have hot winters and chill summers. Like, we're standing right next to the AC.\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" I admit. \"When we learned about the walls in school it was in pretty broad strokes.\"\n\nAvo reaches over and retrieves her phone from the nearby countertop. \"Well, they're doing a big thing about 'em this Spring, for the Zootennial. If you really want to learn about 'em.\"\n\n\"Oh yeah, the Zootennial,\" Anna chuckles. \"I didn't get invited but I'm pretty sure Gazelle will be taking me as her plus one.\"\n\n\"My invite's probably in the mail,\" I nod calmly.\n\n\"Oh yeah,\" she agrees. \"For sure.\"\n\nAvo settles against the counter and starts tapping away on her phone, either browsing in a hurry or playing some game. Anna checks her machine, which reads two minutes, and starts to pace around the room, evidently eager to leave and get on with her day. Speaking of which--\n\n\"I'd really love to stay and chat, but I've gotta get ready. Hope you both have a great night.\"\n\nAnna nods. \"Mhm.\"\n\n\"I'll be here a while longer,\" Avo informs me. \"Gimme some quarters and I can throw your laundry into the dryer when it's done. Assuming you trust me to handle your unmentionables, I mean.\"\n\nI pause for a second, and my snout tingles. Normally, I'd say that's kind of a weird thing to offer, and I really don't know how I feel about one of my neighbors going through my laundry like that. I mean, I don't [i]distrust[/i] Avo, but I dunno, laundry feels weirdly personal to me. Am I just being weird?\n\nWell. Whatever. It'll save me time so I should really accept the generosity. I hand her some coins.\n\n\"Just please don't prank me or whatever,\" I ask plainly.\n\n\"What the hell am I going to do? You think I'm gonna dig through your dirty-ass clothes?\"\n\n\"I don't know!\" I shake my head with both hands up, exasperated. \"Just don't be weird about it!\"\n\nAvo narrows her eyes. \"You're the one being weird. I'm just helping you out.\"\n\n\"All right. Fine. Sorry. Just... thank you.\"\n\nI quickly exit the room and pretend not to hear her and Anneke giggling when I head up the stairs. Charlie and Ozzy are still chatting, so I wave again as I pass (they don't notice me, I think) on my way back towards my room.\n\nRemembered my keys this time.\n\nAnyway. Shower next. Water's nice and hot. This always takes forever, which is why I give myself so much time in the morning before I have to leave. I kinda zone out as I scrub up, and before I know it I'm clean as a daisy. Drying off doesn't take that long -- better than it does a lot of longhair mammals, thanks to the magic of wool -- and soon I'm all fluffy and ready to go.\n\nI step back into my room, peer into the closet, and oh look it's empty there's no clothes in the closet.\n\nHm! How about that.\n\nThe next three minutes are a shuffled series of me re-checking the closet, walking a circle around my room, and examining the floor, couch, and bed, in case I forgot something. Like on the fifth try something will just magically be there. After a dozen or so passes, my brain finally accepts the reality that I did not leave myself any clean clothes.\n\nThere's worse places to be stranded naked than my own apartment. Okay. A few ways to deal with this. Let's think rationally. Think positively.\n\nI don't want to throw on the clothes I slept in. Not when I'm all clean.\n\nI also really don't want to just... stroll back down in my towel. I guess it wouldn't be too compromising. I mean, I've been growing my wool out for the winter season, so I even have a bit of built-in modesty. But I'm not convinced everyone else would see it that way.\n\nIf Avo and Anna are still there, they'd laugh themselves silly seeing me looking like this in a common space. Maybe they're not. Maybe I can sneak in and get out unnoticed. But what if someone else is there?? Al would think I'm mentally deficient or something. Marty would call me a freak or a pervert. Ozzy would laugh loud enough to wake up the building. Does Betty use this laundry room? I mean she must, right? But I don't think I've ever bumped into her down here. Maybe her place next door has its own unit.\n\nOkay. I have my phone. I could just call someone to pick up my laundry for me. I know Charlie was down there. Maybe she still is. I have a number for her on my contacts that's only a month old. She might still be using it. And she doesn't seem the type to judge.\n\nI wrap my towel around my waist, stand awkwardly by the door, and start tapping out a text. Something straight to the point. This is one mammal who doesn't like to waste time.\n\nI just hope she'll spare a little for me.\n\n \n\nA very long ten minutes later and there's a knock on my door. I open up to see a tawny fox holding my laundry and standing patiently in the hall. She's wearing what looks like a hiker's backpack, a little big for her, with plastic cages and a long bug net stuck to the outside with those little metal clasper things.\n\n\"Cormo,\" Charlie nods.\n\nGood timing. I've got to leave soon. \"Thanks for this, seriously. I'll owe you--\"\n\nCharlie pushes the door open with the basket. \"Of course. Have you heard about the Bug Out today?\"\n\nI snap flush red and pace after her. \"Charlie, I'm not even dressed!\"\n\n\"Nice,\" she remarks, her narrow eyes not even looking up at me as she deposits the freshly clean haul on my bed. \"It's a seasonal event where you attempt to catch local insects. I'm going to be competing for the first time today.\"\n\n\"That's great, but--\"\n\n\"I have spent the last four days reading up on theory and past winners,\" she sits on my bed as she explains it to me, only to get up a moment later and begin pacing the room. \"Braxton Calhoun won the Rainforest District Bug Out six years running and he has a dedicated podcast detailing the nuances of his strategy. So first off, one thing a lot of people assume is that stealth is inherently the best strategy for catching scorers. Those are insects announced by the head panel as the target insects for the challenge. Specific clades must be delineated as valid, you see. Because if they just took any bugs at all, mammals could hoard them in advance or even breed them and try to turn them in which would make it an ill-gotten victory, naturally, but you also can't have officials and volunteers tracking every single banded participant -- I should mention they make you wear a wristband to show you're participating, like at a club or a bounce house or similar venue -- so since the honor system wouldn't be satisfactory in an unsurveilled ecosystem like this, it's inevitable that certain at-runtime statutes be declared in order to keep fair score. Obviously.\"\n\nI just sorta stand there blinking at her, clutching my towel and feeling very exposed. \"Uh. Oh. Sure, right, makes sense.\"\n\nShe busies herself around my apartment, hardly looking at me but repeatedly peering out the window, walking in and out of the bathroom, or readjusting the laundry basket on my bed. \"Well, as I said, most mammals assume stealth is the winning move. But as Calhoun points out, many insects have a very high F-Tolerance, which is a measurement of their likelihood to flee accounting for proximity, speed, and the relative size of the nearby movement. So despite a preponderance of common expectations, you can get within catching distance of many potential targets with little to no caution given to discretion, so long as you come armed with an adequate understanding of your quarry. It's a very liberating method.\"\n\nI'm not sure I've... [i]ever[/i] seen her this animated. She's illustrating all these concepts with accompanying gestures, and she seems uncharacteristically pressed to sit still for more than a few seconds.\n\n\"Oh,\" I nod blankly, not really knowing what else to do. \"Well, uh, it sounds like you're excited to get started.\"\n\n\"I aim to take the ultimate prize in the local division.\" She paces into my kitchen and absently opens up my cupboard, literally poking her nose inside. \"I've even brought appropriate gear.\"\n\nAh, that explains it. \"Is it a cash prize then?\"\n\nShe closes the cupboard, swishing her impressively fluffy tail behind her. \"No. Cash prizes were abandoned over 20 years ago as one of multiple ramifications of the CNR scandal. A small but materially unimportant trophy is offered, but the real prize is recognition of mastery and expertise.\"\n\nHuh. \"Well, I'm sure you'll do great.\"\n\nShe nods back. \"Thanks. Are you competing? The local sporting goods outlets have been stocking special hoof-grip nets ever since the event took off in 1992. A standard net for a new participant would be satisfactory but if you want a professional grade catch--\"\n\n\"Charlie--\" I step forward, waving a free hoof while keeping my towel up with the other. \"Sorry, no, I probably won't--\"\n\n\"Ah, too bad. When the event begins I have a plan to--\"\n\n\"Sorry, look, I'd love to stay and chat about the Bug Off but I've got to leave in a few minutes. I've got work, y'know? It's kind of a walk and I don't want to be late.\"\n\nCharlie clasps her paws behind her back, rocking on her heels. \"Oh. That's all right, I'll walk with you. There's a park near the warehouse where I can start my route. I'll tell you more on the way.\"\n\n\"...uh.\" I look around the room as if I'll spot something to help me out, but finally I just toss my hooves up and say, \"Sure. Uh, just -- I need to get dressed.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" she nods, sitting back on the bed. \"Now, given the early cold and the delayed start of this year's event, the most likely candidates for the target species would be something from the genus of--\"\n\nI interrupt again. \"Uh, I'd like some privacy while I dress.\"\n\n\"Oh.\" Charlie runs a paw through her slicked-back headfur and flicks her ears as she rises to stand. \"Of course. I'll be outside.\"\n\nI give her a polite, grateful nod and wait for her to step back out into the apartment hall, then start rummaging through my laundry and tossing on the first shirt I find.\n\n\"So yes, not a lot of species can handle an early cold like this.\" I freeze as I hear Charlie's voice come through the door. I think she might actually be standing right up against the jamb. \"But the official committee had delays starting the local division's planning because of budgetary cuts that are going into effect this year. And you'd be surprised how many bugs are out at night, which is why they start in the A.M.\"\n\nI take a breath and get back to throwing my clothes on.\n\nStrange morning.\n\n \n\nSo, one of the cool things about my new job is that it's just down on Hill Street. Walkable, unlike my old gig way out in Tundratown. Makes the morning commute -- or I guess, evening commute -- a lot easier to bear. Walking under the stars like this, with so many mammals passing on the sidewalk, I feel the pulse of the city I live in. Charlie seems to agree, since she's been walking the whole way with me, going on and on about the big bug event today. I didn't even know she cared about bugs, except as a vehicle for sauce. I always thought that was like, a thing for kids. If you told me the city had a thriving competitive-bug-catching scene, I-- well I guess I wouldn't have been that shocked, but it is pretty novel.\n\nAnyway, when we round the corner and the warehouse finally comes into view, past the small grassy park, she's still going on about it.\n\nShe holds her net out at arm's length, straight vertically, even as she plods along beside me. \"Regardless, that's only the legacy scoring system. The new method, which is quite a great deal more standardized, and thus better suited to objective scaling, was developed in 2005, as a direct consequence of outcry by then-champion Jonah Edquist. The judges had been accused of favoritism the previous year, and since the criteria for scoring weren't yet regulated city-wide, it generated a controversy.\"\n\n\"Ah, yeah, I can see why,\" I nod rapidly, trying to find a polite way to finally break out of this lore dump. \"So, hey, look at that! We're here, and I gotta go clock in. Uh, thanks for keeping me company, Charlie. Good luck today.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\" The fox tilts her head, smiling just a tiny bit in a rare show of unguarded emotion, and spins the net deftly in her paws. \"In 31 minutes the announcement will go out to my tracker app, and I'm going to start here and try to gather a few early silvers before moving down my planned route. I will do all I can.\"\n\nI shrug, straightening the paper bag in my hooves to keep the contents from shifting. \"Well, I think with all your prep you'll likely squash the competition.\"\n\n\"Don't say 'squash',\" she corrects, her tail swishing in a broad circle behind her as she pivots toward the park. \"Bad luck.\"\n\nI watch her for a moment, check my phone, then hustle inside.\n\n \n\nThis place always surprises me with how quiet it is, since outside the forklift, we don't have much machinery. My last gig dealt with refrigeration trucks, humming and rolling in and out, and it was so much louder. I didn't even realize how much it bothered me. The place is empty by comparison, just your standard industrial warehouse with big metal girders holding up a cavernous roof, and rows and rows of enormous shelves. Each one's covered in goods, all in individually marked boxes and plastic-wrapped pallets.\n\nI swing around the low interior break room, past the empty \"Employee of the Month\" frame, and pop my bagged lunch in the fridge, which looks like it's older than I am. Then it's off to the check-in station. But as I'm turning the corner out of the isolated little free-standing room, a loud voice breaks the silence and I nearly jump out of my wool.\n\n[b]\"REMMY!\"[/b]\n\nI whirl on my heels to see a huge, shaggy brown hyena hunched forward near the warehouse entrance, flexing her claws. She's wide, built, broad-shouldered. Mane decorated with braids and beads. Her eyes are dark, baggy. But her bared teeth gleam against the overhead lighting.\n\n[b]\"I gotchu now!\"[/b]\n\n\"Fuck.\"\n\nFor a moment, nothing happens. Everything's quiet again, waiting.\n\nI hesitate, glancing at my phone, then before she can make the first move, I spin, racing over the poured concrete flooring as I flee into the stacks, hearing her roar and break into a sprint behind me. I duck past the unsorted piles by Sector A and make a skittering turn down Row 2, my hooves scratching to get enough grip. I pass Jason, a stout wolverine in a bright orange safety vest, who looks up at me with an unbothered expression.\n\n\"Little [b]help?![/b]\" I bleat as I pass him at Mach 5.\n\nHe shrugs, smiling, and I curse under my breath. The sound of clawed paws on warehouse flooring are getting closer.\n\nI juke left, then dive right, hoping to escape my pursuer in the winding shelves, but as soon as I turn the corner I see that someone left the forklift parked diagonally and it's blocking the path. I clumsily whip around to take another route, but it's too late. The hyena's a foot away and barreling at me with the force of a truck. I brace myself, wincing.\n\n[b]\"Gotchu!\"[/b] She hauls me straight off my hooves and into the air, spinning me as all her momentum comes to a stop.\n\n\"Damn, Jazz! Did you put this forklift here?!\"\n\nShe grins at me. \"Naww. Time?\"\n\nI knit my brow, laughing. \"No way, no time, this one doesn't count. You didn't even give me time to get ready! I just put away my lunch!\"\n\n\"It better be somethin' heavy,\" she responds, hefting me up and down a little to test my weight. \"Every damn day you gettin' fluffier 'n' lighter. Y'gonna float away, you don't eat more.\"\n\nJazz sets me down, and I'm about to make a cool comeback when a loud cough gets both of us looking down the row.\n\nMy boss, a black rabbit with a very stern look and a chin that says 'plastic surgery' glares at us, hands on his hips. \"Am I going to have to write you two up again? You can roughhouse on your own time, but not on company property, and not on company time!\"\n\n\"Sorry, Tommy,\" I mutter, unable to muster a serious enough tone for his liking. He scowls further. \"But uh, technically I wasn't even clocked in yet.\"\n\n\"Well [b]clock in,[/b]\" he insists, tucking a clipboard under his arm as he walks off. \"You're already late. I don't have time for your nonsense today.\"\n\nJazz sighs, grumbling something, and just as the mood's about to turn I look up to see this towering hyena making that fucking face at me. That fucking impossible to describe face, with her chin jutted out and her lips puckered up and a very stern, very familiar look in her eyes. And I fuckin' lose it. Any time you want to make someone here crack the fuck up, you just pull out the Tommy face. It works every time. It even works on Raúl. And so far I don't think I've seen anything else make Raúl laugh.\n\nWhen we both stop giggling like idiots, she shoves her paws in her coat pockets. \"'Ey, Aaron loved that Mailwolf book you told me 'bout. Got 'im away from Erminecraft for a while.\"\n\n\"Aw, that's great. I'll see if I can get any other recommendations for the same reading level. I told you my neighbor works at the library, he'll point me in the right direction.\"\n\nShe smiles, and I finally shrug and thumb a hoof towards the entrance.\n\n\"I really should clock in.\"\n\nThe hyena nods, like I said something wise. \"Yeah.\"\n\n \n\n3 AM.\n\nLunch. Didn't have breakfast, so I'm starving.\n\nGot my reheated stir fry and my pomegranate juice, and I shuffle my way out to the back dock. Jason and Raúl are here, just sitting quietly at the edge of the concrete loading bay and staring off at the peaceful night, so I sit with them and do the same, drawing up my spring-loaded chopsticks and digging in.\n\nPretty good. Too much oil. Next time will be even better.\n\n\"Thanks for covering for me with Tommy the other day,\" Raúl mutters while I'm mid bite. \"I got enough strikes.\"\n\n\"Ohb ygheah,\" I swallow before continuing that thought. \"Yeah, no problem. Everything okay?\"\n\n\"Yeah, s'okay now,\" the badger nods quickly. He doesn't go into any further detail, but I don't press either.\n\nJason leans past him and holds out a lit joint in my direction. \"You want a hit?\"\n\nI wave my hoof. \"Oh, nah. Thanks man. I'm feeling pretty good today.\"\n\nHe leans back without another word and takes a long drag, then passes it to Raúl. I dig into my lunch, and we all just kinda sit there in mutual silence, relaxing.\n\nReally a beautiful night.\n\nAs I'm finishing up the last savory bite of pepper and onion, movement in the park catches my eye. I squint into the pre-morning darkness at the shape flitting between the park's standing lights. Something moving around, flashes of tan and white. I think I know what it is, but it shouldn't be.\n\nA firefly drifts past a moment later, lingering in front of my face. Moving as little as possible, I slowly gather up my empty plasticware. Then, in a single move, I clap the bowl and its lid over the bug, neatly capturing the glowing insect.\n\nJason's watching other things but I hear Raúl chuckle a little. Damn, guess I got the spirit of the Bug Out after all. I tuck the whole thing into my brown paper lunchbag. I oughta show Charlie.\n\nSpeaking of. No more delaying the inevitable.\n\nI check my phone, excuse myself, and hop off the loading dock, plodding towards the park.\n\n \n\nThe mysterious shape bolts in front of me, swinging wildly with an uncharacteristically clumsy energy.\n\n\"Charlie?\"\n\n\"Cormo,\" she pants openly, catching her breath. She's hunched forward, one paw bracing herself on her knee, the other gripping that long bug net.\n\n\"I thought you'd have moved to your next spot by now. How's the Bug Out going?\"\n\nShe gestures at the nearby iron bench where her little plastic terraria are laid out. Each one is empty.\n\n\"Terribly,\" she responds, shaking her head. \"Hours on the hunt and I haven't caught a single specimen.\"\n\nHer voice is ragged and not just from exhaustion. I've never heard her so audibly frustrated.\n\n\"I'm really sorry to hear that,\" I tell her, not sure what to say. \"I know this means a lot to you.\"\n\nShe sighs deeply, sitting on the bench. From the backpack leaning against it, she produces a water bottle, taking a long drink. Finally she slams it down on the bench with an angry grunt.\n\n\"I've read every guide I could get my paws on. I really didn't expect so much difficulty.\"\n\nI stand there for a moment in silence. The chirping of nighttime bugs carries quietly through the stillness of the park, and there doesn't appear to be anyone here but us. She stares at the ground, catching her breath, and I just watch her.\n\nI guess I always thought of Charlie as someone who can do anything effortlessly. After all we've been through, she really makes so many things look easy. To see her struggling like this, it's... a strange feeling.\n\nI don't like it.\n\n\"Well, hey, guess no one can be perfect at [i]everything,[/i]\" I joke.\n\nShe looks up at me with a blank expression. That wasn't it.\n\n\"Uh... I dunno. You'll pick it up as you go, I'm sure. Plus, look, you're new at this, right?\" I shrug my puffy shoulders and tap my hooves together, fumbling for something to offer her. \"New skills take time to learn. You can't master it overnight. And, y'know, practice makes perfect.\"\n\nShe continues staring at me, then finally rises to her feet. \"Did you just come here for meaninglessly vacuous soundbites?\"\n\n\"...Huh?\"\n\n\"...I apologize. I'm frustrated. But if you're trying to help, spare me the platitudes.\" The scrawny fox fixes her turtleneck collar and shoves the water bottle into her backpack.\n\nI glance down at myself, then back up at her. \"I just-- thought it'd help.\"\n\nShe shakes her head, hefting the net. \"With all the tribulations you've faced, I would have thought you had a more genuine perspective to offer.\"\n\nI raise my brows, considering for a moment, then shove my hooves into my pockets.\n\n\"No, you're right, Charlie. I'm just repeating stuff people have told me. That if you suck at something long enough, you get good at it. But in my experience, the truth is sometimes you... just don't.\"\n\nShe stares at me, squinting even deeper, and looking almost offended, but I hold up a hoof pre-emptively.\n\n\"Sometimes you're naturally great at something you hate. Sometimes you suck ass at something you love. And the secret nobody ever told me, and I wish they would have, is that it's okay. So, yeah: maybe you suck at catching bugs. Maybe you'll only get better really slowly, and it'll take forever. But it doesn't [b]matter.[/b]\"\n\nShe shakes her head. \"Sure it does.\"\n\n\"For a prize, for first place, sure, maybe. But if you're having fun, who cares? Like... who are you answering to? I lived so much of my life feeling like someone was always looking over my shoulder and judging me, like even if nobody was around I had to always worry that I was doing it wrong, or looking stupid, and I couldn't just enjoy myself the way I wanted to if I was being embarrassing or awkward or cringe or whatever.\"\n\nI put my hoof on her shoulder, which she looks at for a moment.\n\n\"Look, Charlie, just... this bug catching stuff obviously means a lot to you. I've basically never seen you so excited. You were having fun this morning. Just enjoy the process. Y'know? Who cares if you don't win? Or place? Or even catch anything? This, right here, this is what you were so excited about, and you can't let anyone, real or imagined, take that from you. If you're having fun, just do it. Don't let your own self-conscious brain kick you down for having fun because you're not doing it at max efficiency, or you're not succeeding fast enough, or you're making a fool of yourself. If you enjoy doing it, do it. Love of the game, you know?\"\n\nShe stares at me for a long moment, then nods.\n\n\"That really did come from the heart, didn't it?\"\n\nI smile back at her. Damn, did I just pull out some actual fucking wisdom or something? Now I get why everyone's always doing it to my dumb ass. That felt [i]great.[/i]\n\n\"I dunno, I guess.\" I answer as modestly as I can. \"I'm just telling you what I wish someone told me when I got frustrated trying to make it work.\"\n\nShe nods. \"I believe I understand where you're coming from. Thank you, Cormo. Sincerely.\"\n\nMy smile gets wider and I can feel the heat in my face. \"Heh. Uhh, no problem. I'm just... not used to being the one giving life advice. I hope it helped.\"\n\nShe peers slowly around the park, gathering her equipment. \"Reasonably. I know where I need to be now.\"\n\n\"Well... uh, I'm glad!\" I clap my hooves and gesture back at the warehouse I left behind. \"I gotta get back to work. When I see you at home, you can tell me all about it.\"\n\n\"Mhm. What's in the bag?\"\n\n\"Oh.\" I look down at my clutched cargo, nonchalant. \"Just my lunch.\"\n\n\"Ah.\"\n\nI'd pat her on the back, but I feel like I already pushed it touching her shoulder, so I just give her a really stupid fucking thumbs up like I'm the lamest person on the planet and hurry back.\n\nCan't keep the boss waiting. He'd write me up again, I'm sure. I reflexively make the Tommy face to myself as I'm walking and start to crack up, even with no one else around.\n\n \n\nThe sun's up over the horizon by the time I'm off work, glaring against the thin clouds of a pale sky. The walk home is much less energetic alone, and the mammals I pass are wearier, quieter. Well. I feel that.\n\nI round the corner onto my street and a minute later I'm finally back in the familiar lobby. Charlie's there, sitting alone on the sofa, looking pleasantly relaxed and watching some kind of bug-catching show. Unsurprisingly.\n\n\"Morning, Charlie. How'd the Bug Out go?\"\n\n\"I quit,\" she answers. \"I've been here since we spoke.\"\n\n\"What?!\" I nearly trip over myself stumbling to the couch, looking around for any trace of her bug catching equipment. \"Why would you quit?\"\n\nThe fox shrugs.\n\n\"But--\" I circle around to the front of the couch, eyeing her. \"But I mean, we had that talk, you said it helped--\"\n\n\"Oh, it did,\" she nods absently, returning her attention to the tv. \"Your message about how the satisfaction and enjoyment of an engaging present mattered more than the perceived or hopeful outcome of a high-level performance in the future. Better to have fun than win, what matters is how you feel doing it, et cetera.\"\n\n\"Right, so why quit??\"\n\n\"That's exactly why. I wasn't having fun; I only wanted to win. When winning was no longer a believable outcome, I no longer had any pretenses to hide the fact that I did not enjoy the act.\"\n\nI slump my shoulders. \"But... you seemed so excited. You were going on and on.\"\n\n\"Competitive bugsport is a rather fascinating pastime. I allowed my excitement to lead me into a bit of a fixation,\" she explains. \"And I fixated on the idea more than the reality.\"\n\nShe reaches into a small bag of chips at her side, popping one into her mouth.\n\n\"And the reality is I don't like catching bugs very much. I much prefer when others do it.\"\n\nI scratch my chin, considering it.\n\n\"You're not upset?\"\n\n\"That I will be able to procure only a partial refund on my equipment and accessories, perhaps. However, I have attained a better understanding of myself and my goals. Therefore I consider myself fulfilled.\"\n\n\"But... my advice [i]did[/i] help?\"\n\n\"Yes. Thank you, Cormo.\"\n\n\"Well!\" my smile returns and I dust my hooves off, turning to the stairs. \"All's well that ends well, then. Glad I could help. Enjoy your show, Charlie.\"\n\n\"Your shirt is inside-out,\" she calls after me. \"It's been inside-out all morning, I forgot to mention during the walk.\"\n\n\"Wwwwhoops!\" I call back musically, beaming.\n\nI can't shake the smile as I head upstairs, back to my room. Laundry's done, work's done. Feels good. And I still have some stir fry left over for dinner. Starting to feel like I've got my life more together than I thought.\n\nI check my phone. Still one unread message.\n\nFrom my sister.\n\nYeah, stir fry sounds good right now. Maybe some green beans on the side.\n\nMy shoulder hurts a little. But otherwise, everything's gone pretty great today.\n\nLove of the game.[/section]\n[section=Notes]I would like to thank everyone who has waited so patiently for this story, always with kind and understanding support.\n\nA lot has happened to me in the interim. I don't wish to make it anyone else's problem, but things have been hard for me, and for a long time, I didn't know if I was going to ever feel like I could continue this story. Even when I eventually did feel that way, I had lost my ghost co-writer, so I wasn't sure I could even continue if I wanted to, from a practical standpoint.\n\nIf this chapter feels different, it's not just the rust of four years. It's the absence of two people integral to this story.\n\nNevertheless, I've done my best. I hope the story still stands well enough.\n\nI also want to let readers know in advance that I'm returning to Pack Street with the intention to move towards an ending sooner rather than later. There won't be another 35 chapters, and it won't continue into perpetuity. I don't know how many more chapters there will be, but I intend to give Remmy's story the closure it deserves.\n\nThank you for staying with me.[/section]",
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      "comments": [
        {
          "body": "I'm glad you are continuing \n\nI hope that , even if the story series itself ends , they will still appear in your art\n\nI love all the characters ",
          "created_at": "2026-03-04T15:48:59.766-05:00",
          "creator_id": 408934,
          "creator_name": "sheilacow",
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          "body": "Glad this is here too now. I think we were all [b]very[/b] surprised when some of us got the email about the update, although I suspected it was coming when I saw that little comic he posted with Avo and Remmy doing a movie. \n\nI suspect he plans on finishing the story and that's just fine with me, although I'd be really interested on what parts of Zoo 2 he's going to incorporate. We'll just have to find out I guess.",
          "created_at": "2026-02-25T03:29:43.994-05:00",
          "creator_id": 1803372,
          "creator_name": "John_Baker5217",
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        {
          "body": "As if Remmy didn't have enough waifus, now one is chasing him. (Charlie is still my favorite)  It seems like all the characters moods have been boosted without the cloud of the bellwether plot over their lives.  And Remmy has also gotten a lot more socially intelligent.  He doesn't bat an eye near as much as he used to around predators. (Hope Jazzy gets some fanart)",
          "created_at": "2026-02-24T02:59:06.447-05:00",
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          "creator_name": "amped_and_loaded1",
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        },
        {
          "body": "Things like this make it worht cancer didn't get me.",
          "created_at": "2026-02-22T22:18:03.848-05:00",
          "creator_id": 469409,
          "creator_name": "Kiraracash",
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          "body": "Damn, and I almost thought my device was just being all wonky when I got the AO3 email for it. I'm very sad to hear what happened to Weaver and the others, but if there's going to be some continuation and conclusion to the story then I'll take it.\n\nAlso Jazz is cute, ngl. The mental image of her chasing Remmy around and being all motherly towards him like he's one of her cubs brings a smile to my face. For such a small 19 year old guy, he sure has been through a lot...",
          "created_at": "2026-02-22T18:33:38.910-05:00",
          "creator_id": 2180979,
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        {
          "body": "DON'T CALL IT A COMEBACK",
          "created_at": "2026-02-22T17:02:12.620-05:00",
          "creator_id": 690586,
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          "body": "We'll definitely need some fan-art of Avo and Anne in the laundry room 0w0",
          "created_at": "2026-02-22T16:53:05.305-05:00",
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        {
          "body": "Oh glorious day!",
          "created_at": "2026-02-22T08:17:36.184-05:00",
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          "body": "Well shit guess im not sleeping yet",
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          "body": "Return of the Mack (1996)",
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      "description": "[i]\"As the weather gets colder, Remmy adapts to his new nightly routine.\"[/i]\n\n[section=Story]A sharply bending chord from The Ramboy Dukes jolts me from sleep. I twist weirdly in bed to slap my phone and shut it off, but a sharp pain in my shoulder makes me immediately regret it. Grumbling, I roll to a sitting position, squint against the blinding glare of my phone, and try to shake off the cobwebs of a strange dream about showering with my shirt on.\n\nOne unread message.\n\nI'm on my feet in a minute. Two. Clock says 8:02. My crumpled headwool sways with each step and my hooves finally stumble to the window of my darkened room.\n\nThe downtown lights stretch on to the horizon. Silhouettes of skyscrapers stitch a ghostly skyline, fanning out glowing streaks of red bumper lights along every major artery, pumping from Peak Street all the way down to Pack and beyond. Most of the city is winding down and getting ready to sleep.\n\nBut the neighborhood around me is loud, alive.\n\nMammals up late, nocturnal by nature or otherwise, lope and shamble across the cracked sidewalks. A bat-eared fox in a puffy throwback vest catcalls a pair of passing dingos who carry long-handled nets and plastic boxes. A small group of painted dogs yip and chatter around the stoop of the building across from me, each one with the gleaming orange embers of a lit cigarette. A floor below, on the steps of my building, the Crowns, a mongoose basks quietly, watching the sky.\n\nI smirk to myself, crack the window, and lean out.\n\n\"Hey, Keith! How you been, man?\"\n\nThe mongoose looks around slowly, sleepily, before turning up to spot me. He nods at me with a broad smile and mouths something, but if he's saying anything, I can't hear him.\n\nThen he goes back to watching the sky.\n\nI've come to like the night. As a ram, I'm diurnal by nature, so adapting to an almost completely reversed timetable wasn't super easy, but I got the hang of it quick enough. And one thing I've learned is Pack Street is always quietest in the midday. Plenty of nocturnal mammals around here, like I said, but even more that are [i]crepuscular[/i]. I learned that word a while ago. It means they're most active in the times between day and night. Morning, evening, times like around now. Catch the crepuscular mammals, plus the best overlap for diurnals who aren't ready for bed yet and nocturnals up early, or who stayed up all... day? \"Stayed up all day\" sounds dumb, but what else are you gonna call it?\n\nAnyway. That's when this street is the busiest.\n\nThat's when all the [i]parties[/i] happen.\n\nI check my phone. 8:15. Gotta get this show on the road. I toddle off to the bathroom, to wash my face in the mirror.\n\nA splash of cold water. I'd say it helps wake me up but I'm plenty awake by now. Feeling fine, actually. I yawn, stretch, scratch my snout. Trace the line where I know the scar was, even though I can't see it.\n\nDo you know how much it sucks that the scar didn't even [i]last?[/i] I could've had a super cool fucking [i]face scar.[/i] The prettyboy kind, too, the kind that doesn't leave you even a little disfigured or anything, just gets all the girls thinking you're cool and dangerous. Could've at least left me a white line or something distinct I could talk about at parties. But the damn thing was totally gone in just a couple months. Sucks. It's like I basically got jumped for nothing.\n\nI start for the shower, but catch myself. Might as well start my laundry now, have it going while I wait. I click on the main lights in my apartment, finally. Then, throwing in a few last-minute articles, I heft my old plastic hamper full of dirty clothes and haul myself to the door.\n\nDown the broad stairs. I figure this apartment's rated for mammals a few sizes bigger than me, and paws aren't as compact as hooves to begin with, so they need the extra space. When I first moved in, I hated how long each step was. Now I'm glad to have it, especially when I can barely see over my laundry to the next step.\n\nChatter in the lobby. This time of night, it's not unusual. Charlie sits hunched forward in an old wood chair, talking rather more animatedly than I'm used to seeing her. Her big fluffy fox tail swishes and she even gestures, drawing little diagrams in the air and making precise motions. Ozzy's lounging on the even older sofa, wearing the sort of toothy grin I've come to expect out of most hyenas, and returning her enthusiasm with plenty of his own. I give them a wave, but only Charlie sees me, and she manages just a faint nod before returning to her conversation.\n\nI swing down the hall out of the lobby, past Ozzy's apartment door, and finally down the cold concrete stairs. Everything down here's concrete. There's not so much as a dangling bare lightbulb in the narrow basement hall. But the room up ahead, off to the side, always has a dim yellow glow spilling out. A cozy little hot-denim-scented beacon in the dark. A growing hum and loud conversation I can't quite discern lets me know it's occupied.\n\nI hustle into the room (because the laundry's heavy, not because I'm scared of the dark) and heave my basket onto the flaking laminate countertop.\n\n\"Look who's here.\"\n\n\"Hey, Anneke.\"\n\nI shove my laundry aside to greet the lithe, half-dressed aardwolf lounging on one of the dryers that line the far wall. She's got a loose tank top and a pair of gray leggings on. I'm not sure I've ever seen her in leggings. They make her lower half look super skinny, pulling all the puffy fur around her legs tight to the skin and outlining the slender curves underneath.\n\nIt's a good look. Like, a really good look. It also makes all the fur around her hips bunch up and fluff way out, like she's wearing someone else's lower half. I guess if she shaved, she'd look like this all over. You know, mammals say shaving is weird, but nobody thinks twice when I shear. I dunno. I think she'd look pretty cute all sheared down. It's like... another layer of naked.\n\nShe leans forward, elbows on her knees, idly kicking her feet over the edge of the rattling machine. And only now do I notice a dark-furred jackal standing motionless against the wall to my left. I meet her gaze, but I can't help but notice she's even [i]less[/i] dressed, wearing only a surprisingly plain white bra and panties. I'd never have imagined Avo even owned such unadorned undies. And that creamy mocha-colored underbelly of hers running from her neck to her--\n\nI looked. She saw me look.\n\n\"Damn,\" I sigh, running a hoof through my headwool and openly glancing between the two of them. \"I must still be dreaming.\"\n\n\"Shut the fuck up,\" Avo rolls her eyes.\n\nAnna giggles. \"Nice jammies.\"\n\nI take the opportunity to look her up and down a second time. \"You too, girl,\" I smile as smoothly as I can, which probably isn't very.\n\nShe responds with a sort of low purr or growl, batting her paw at me in the air, and Avo shakes her head. I slide my laundry basket to one of the empty machines and start loading it.\n\n\"Hope I wasn't interrupting anything.\"\n\nThe dryer Anna's sitting on suddenly kicks onto high cycle and her speech becomes juddery. \"HeY, iT's bEeN cOlD, rIgHt?\"\n\n\"I heard we're gonna get a really sharp winter this year,\" I agree, loading clothes and grabbing the detergent from the bottom of my basket. \"Gonna be my first winter here, actually. Does it get bad?\"\n\n\"Well,\" Avo begins to say something, then pats her hips with both palms, peering down for a second at herself. She shakes her head, then re-crosses her arms.\n\nAnna smirks but I guess I'm missing something.\n\n\"Well,\" she starts again, \"We're almost right up against the R-S weather wall. So things can get pretty extreme in peak seasons.\"\n\n\"Y'know, I've never actually gone past the wall here,\" I remark. \"There not a lot of travel, or is it just me?\"\n\nShe makes a noncommittal shrug. \"I take a stroll to Shady every now and then. You could walk to Marsh from here, too, which you'll basically have to if you want to catch any of the other main lines.\"\n\nI fish some coins out of my pocket and load 'em up. \"Yeah, I saw that. I mostly just took it to get to work, when I was working way out in Tundra. I can't believe how few connections the lines have. Just looking at the subway map makes me think I'm losing my mind.\"\n\n[b]\"Yeah,\"[/b] she almost barks back. \"The actual service is great but the lines are a fucking joke.\"\n\nEvidently bored by the ongoing discussion, Anna stretches, first with paws down towards the ground, looking like she'll topple forward off the dryer, then all the way up, high in the air. Her long, bare, fuzzy midriff peeks inch by inch from under her top and it takes all my willpower to look away before she notices.\n\nAvo is staring at me with one raised brow and a calm smile.\n\n\"...So uh, is there really no connection at all between the Z and the Inner Loop around here?\"\n\n\"Yeah. It's [i]Marsh[/i].\"\n\nI compose myself as best I'm able and pop my coins in, starting the machine. \"For real? So I can walk ten minutes to Marshlands or--\"\n\n\"Yeah, or take the southbound Inner ALL the way around.\" She's suddenly a lot louder, to be heard over the growing din. \"You want to go [i]anywhere[/i] west from here, you walk or you ride the entire loop the other way first.\"\n\nI leave my detergent bottle in the basket and heft them both onto the now-rattling washing machine. \"Is there no connecting bus?\"\n\n\"Can we shut up about buses and trains? They're for nerds anyway, you're both nerds.\" Anneke hops off the dryer about when her teeth start chattering.\n\nAvo scoffs playfully, jabbing a claw at her. \"Two minutes ago you told me you were up all day playing Erminecraft.\"\n\n\"That's not nerd shit,\" she retorts, unbothered. \"Everyone plays Erminecraft. Anyway, shouldn't being this close to the wall make the weather more mild? At the least we should have hot winters and chill summers. Like, we're standing right next to the AC.\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" I admit. \"When we learned about the walls in school it was in pretty broad strokes.\"\n\nAvo reaches over and retrieves her phone from the nearby countertop. \"Well, they're doing a big thing about 'em this Spring, for the Zootennial. If you really want to learn about 'em.\"\n\n\"Oh yeah, the Zootennial,\" Anna chuckles. \"I didn't get invited but I'm pretty sure Gazelle will be taking me as her plus one.\"\n\n\"My invite's probably in the mail,\" I nod calmly.\n\n\"Oh yeah,\" she agrees. \"For sure.\"\n\nAvo settles against the counter and starts tapping away on her phone, either browsing in a hurry or playing some game. Anna checks her machine, which reads two minutes, and starts to pace around the room, evidently eager to leave and get on with her day. Speaking of which--\n\n\"I'd really love to stay and chat, but I've gotta get ready. Hope you both have a great night.\"\n\nAnna nods. \"Mhm.\"\n\n\"I'll be here a while longer,\" Avo informs me. \"Gimme some quarters and I can throw your laundry into the dryer when it's done. Assuming you trust me to handle your unmentionables, I mean.\"\n\nI pause for a second, and my snout tingles. Normally, I'd say that's kind of a weird thing to offer, and I really don't know how I feel about one of my neighbors going through my laundry like that. I mean, I don't [i]distrust[/i] Avo, but I dunno, laundry feels weirdly personal to me. Am I just being weird?\n\nWell. Whatever. It'll save me time so I should really accept the generosity. I hand her some coins.\n\n\"Just please don't prank me or whatever,\" I ask plainly.\n\n\"What the hell am I going to do? You think I'm gonna dig through your dirty-ass clothes?\"\n\n\"I don't know!\" I shake my head with both hands up, exasperated. \"Just don't be weird about it!\"\n\nAvo narrows her eyes. \"You're the one being weird. I'm just helping you out.\"\n\n\"All right. Fine. Sorry. Just... thank you.\"\n\nI quickly exit the room and pretend not to hear her and Anneke giggling when I head up the stairs. Charlie and Ozzy are still chatting, so I wave again as I pass (they don't notice me, I think) on my way back towards my room.\n\nRemembered my keys this time.\n\nAnyway. Shower next. Water's nice and hot. This always takes forever, which is why I give myself so much time in the morning before I have to leave. I kinda zone out as I scrub up, and before I know it I'm clean as a daisy. Drying off doesn't take that long -- better than it does a lot of longhair mammals, thanks to the magic of wool -- and soon I'm all fluffy and ready to go.\n\nI step back into my room, peer into the closet, and oh look it's empty there's no clothes in the closet.\n\nHm! How about that.\n\nThe next three minutes are a shuffled series of me re-checking the closet, walking a circle around my room, and examining the floor, couch, and bed, in case I forgot something. Like on the fifth try something will just magically be there. After a dozen or so passes, my brain finally accepts the reality that I did not leave myself any clean clothes.\n\nThere's worse places to be stranded naked than my own apartment. Okay. A few ways to deal with this. Let's think rationally. Think positively.\n\nI don't want to throw on the clothes I slept in. Not when I'm all clean.\n\nI also really don't want to just... stroll back down in my towel. I guess it wouldn't be too compromising. I mean, I've been growing my wool out for the winter season, so I even have a bit of built-in modesty. But I'm not convinced everyone else would see it that way.\n\nIf Avo and Anna are still there, they'd laugh themselves silly seeing me looking like this in a common space. Maybe they're not. Maybe I can sneak in and get out unnoticed. But what if someone else is there?? Al would think I'm mentally deficient or something. Marty would call me a freak or a pervert. Ozzy would laugh loud enough to wake up the building. Does Betty use this laundry room? I mean she must, right? But I don't think I've ever bumped into her down here. Maybe her place next door has its own unit.\n\nOkay. I have my phone. I could just call someone to pick up my laundry for me. I know Charlie was down there. Maybe she still is. I have a number for her on my contacts that's only a month old. She might still be using it. And she doesn't seem the type to judge.\n\nI wrap my towel around my waist, stand awkwardly by the door, and start tapping out a text. Something straight to the point. This is one mammal who doesn't like to waste time.\n\nI just hope she'll spare a little for me.\n\n \n\nA very long ten minutes later and there's a knock on my door. I open up to see a tawny fox holding my laundry and standing patiently in the hall. She's wearing what looks like a hiker's backpack, a little big for her, with plastic cages and a long bug net stuck to the outside with those little metal clasper things.\n\n\"Cormo,\" Charlie nods.\n\nGood timing. I've got to leave soon. \"Thanks for this, seriously. I'll owe you--\"\n\nCharlie pushes the door open with the basket. \"Of course. Have you heard about the Bug Out today?\"\n\nI snap flush red and pace after her. \"Charlie, I'm not even dressed!\"\n\n\"Nice,\" she remarks, her narrow eyes not even looking up at me as she deposits the freshly clean haul on my bed. \"It's a seasonal event where you attempt to catch local insects. I'm going to be competing for the first time today.\"\n\n\"That's great, but--\"\n\n\"I have spent the last four days reading up on theory and past winners,\" she sits on my bed as she explains it to me, only to get up a moment later and begin pacing the room. \"Braxton Calhoun won the Rainforest District Bug Out six years running and he has a dedicated podcast detailing the nuances of his strategy. So first off, one thing a lot of people assume is that stealth is inherently the best strategy for catching scorers. Those are insects announced by the head panel as the target insects for the challenge. Specific clades must be delineated as valid, you see. Because if they just took any bugs at all, mammals could hoard them in advance or even breed them and try to turn them in which would make it an ill-gotten victory, naturally, but you also can't have officials and volunteers tracking every single banded participant -- I should mention they make you wear a wristband to show you're participating, like at a club or a bounce house or similar venue -- so since the honor system wouldn't be satisfactory in an unsurveilled ecosystem like this, it's inevitable that certain at-runtime statutes be declared in order to keep fair score. Obviously.\"\n\nI just sorta stand there blinking at her, clutching my towel and feeling very exposed. \"Uh. Oh. Sure, right, makes sense.\"\n\nShe busies herself around my apartment, hardly looking at me but repeatedly peering out the window, walking in and out of the bathroom, or readjusting the laundry basket on my bed. \"Well, as I said, most mammals assume stealth is the winning move. But as Calhoun points out, many insects have a very high F-Tolerance, which is a measurement of their likelihood to flee accounting for proximity, speed, and the relative size of the nearby movement. So despite a preponderance of common expectations, you can get within catching distance of many potential targets with little to no caution given to discretion, so long as you come armed with an adequate understanding of your quarry. It's a very liberating method.\"\n\nI'm not sure I've... [i]ever[/i] seen her this animated. She's illustrating all these concepts with accompanying gestures, and she seems uncharacteristically pressed to sit still for more than a few seconds.\n\n\"Oh,\" I nod blankly, not really knowing what else to do. \"Well, uh, it sounds like you're excited to get started.\"\n\n\"I aim to take the ultimate prize in the local division.\" She paces into my kitchen and absently opens up my cupboard, literally poking her nose inside. \"I've even brought appropriate gear.\"\n\nAh, that explains it. \"Is it a cash prize then?\"\n\nShe closes the cupboard, swishing her impressively fluffy tail behind her. \"No. Cash prizes were abandoned over 20 years ago as one of multiple ramifications of the CNR scandal. A small but materially unimportant trophy is offered, but the real prize is recognition of mastery and expertise.\"\n\nHuh. \"Well, I'm sure you'll do great.\"\n\nShe nods back. \"Thanks. Are you competing? The local sporting goods outlets have been stocking special hoof-grip nets ever since the event took off in 1992. A standard net for a new participant would be satisfactory but if you want a professional grade catch--\"\n\n\"Charlie--\" I step forward, waving a free hoof while keeping my towel up with the other. \"Sorry, no, I probably won't--\"\n\n\"Ah, too bad. When the event begins I have a plan to--\"\n\n\"Sorry, look, I'd love to stay and chat about the Bug Off but I've got to leave in a few minutes. I've got work, y'know? It's kind of a walk and I don't want to be late.\"\n\nCharlie clasps her paws behind her back, rocking on her heels. \"Oh. That's all right, I'll walk with you. There's a park near the warehouse where I can start my route. I'll tell you more on the way.\"\n\n\"...uh.\" I look around the room as if I'll spot something to help me out, but finally I just toss my hooves up and say, \"Sure. Uh, just -- I need to get dressed.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" she nods, sitting back on the bed. \"Now, given the early cold and the delayed start of this year's event, the most likely candidates for the target species would be something from the genus of--\"\n\nI interrupt again. \"Uh, I'd like some privacy while I dress.\"\n\n\"Oh.\" Charlie runs a paw through her slicked-back headfur and flicks her ears as she rises to stand. \"Of course. I'll be outside.\"\n\nI give her a polite, grateful nod and wait for her to step back out into the apartment hall, then start rummaging through my laundry and tossing on the first shirt I find.\n\n\"So yes, not a lot of species can handle an early cold like this.\" I freeze as I hear Charlie's voice come through the door. I think she might actually be standing right up against the jamb. \"But the official committee had delays starting the local division's planning because of budgetary cuts that are going into effect this year. And you'd be surprised how many bugs are out at night, which is why they start in the A.M.\"\n\nI take a breath and get back to throwing my clothes on.\n\nStrange morning.\n\n \n\nSo, one of the cool things about my new job is that it's just down on Hill Street. Walkable, unlike my old gig way out in Tundratown. Makes the morning commute -- or I guess, evening commute -- a lot easier to bear. Walking under the stars like this, with so many mammals passing on the sidewalk, I feel the pulse of the city I live in. Charlie seems to agree, since she's been walking the whole way with me, going on and on about the big bug event today. I didn't even know she cared about bugs, except as a vehicle for sauce. I always thought that was like, a thing for kids. If you told me the city had a thriving competitive-bug-catching scene, I-- well I guess I wouldn't have been that shocked, but it is pretty novel.\n\nAnyway, when we round the corner and the warehouse finally comes into view, past the small grassy park, she's still going on about it.\n\nShe holds her net out at arm's length, straight vertically, even as she plods along beside me. \"Regardless, that's only the legacy scoring system. The new method, which is quite a great deal more standardized, and thus better suited to objective scaling, was developed in 2005, as a direct consequence of outcry by then-champion Jonah Edquist. The judges had been accused of favoritism the previous year, and since the criteria for scoring weren't yet regulated city-wide, it generated a controversy.\"\n\n\"Ah, yeah, I can see why,\" I nod rapidly, trying to find a polite way to finally break out of this lore dump. \"So, hey, look at that! We're here, and I gotta go clock in. Uh, thanks for keeping me company, Charlie. Good luck today.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\" The fox tilts her head, smiling just a tiny bit in a rare show of unguarded emotion, and spins the net deftly in her paws. \"In 31 minutes the announcement will go out to my tracker app, and I'm going to start here and try to gather a few early silvers before moving down my planned route. I will do all I can.\"\n\nI shrug, straightening the paper bag in my hooves to keep the contents from shifting. \"Well, I think with all your prep you'll likely squash the competition.\"\n\n\"Don't say 'squash',\" she corrects, her tail swishing in a broad circle behind her as she pivots toward the park. \"Bad luck.\"\n\nI watch her for a moment, check my phone, then hustle inside.\n\n \n\nThis place always surprises me with how quiet it is, since outside the forklift, we don't have much machinery. My last gig dealt with refrigeration trucks, humming and rolling in and out, and it was so much louder. I didn't even realize how much it bothered me. The place is empty by comparison, just your standard industrial warehouse with big metal girders holding up a cavernous roof, and rows and rows of enormous shelves. Each one's covered in goods, all in individually marked boxes and plastic-wrapped pallets.\n\nI swing around the low interior break room, past the empty \"Employee of the Month\" frame, and pop my bagged lunch in the fridge, which looks like it's older than I am. Then it's off to the check-in station. But as I'm turning the corner out of the isolated little free-standing room, a loud voice breaks the silence and I nearly jump out of my wool.\n\n[b]\"REMMY!\"[/b]\n\nI whirl on my heels to see a huge, shaggy brown hyena hunched forward near the warehouse entrance, flexing her claws. She's wide, built, broad-shouldered. Mane decorated with braids and beads. Her eyes are dark, baggy. But her bared teeth gleam against the overhead lighting.\n\n[b]\"I gotchu now!\"[/b]\n\n\"Fuck.\"\n\nFor a moment, nothing happens. Everything's quiet again, waiting.\n\nI hesitate, glancing at my phone, then before she can make the first move, I spin, racing over the poured concrete flooring as I flee into the stacks, hearing her roar and break into a sprint behind me. I duck past the unsorted piles by Sector A and make a skittering turn down Row 2, my hooves scratching to get enough grip. I pass Jason, a stout wolverine in a bright orange safety vest, who looks up at me with an unbothered expression.\n\n\"Little [b]help?![/b]\" I bleat as I pass him at Mach 5.\n\nHe shrugs, smiling, and I curse under my breath. The sound of clawed paws on warehouse flooring are getting closer.\n\nI juke left, then dive right, hoping to escape my pursuer in the winding shelves, but as soon as I turn the corner I see that someone left the forklift parked diagonally and it's blocking the path. I clumsily whip around to take another route, but it's too late. The hyena's a foot away and barreling at me with the force of a truck. I brace myself, wincing.\n\n[b]\"Gotchu!\"[/b] She hauls me straight off my hooves and into the air, spinning me as all her momentum comes to a stop.\n\n\"Damn, Jazz! Did you put this forklift here?!\"\n\nShe grins at me. \"Naww. Time?\"\n\nI knit my brow, laughing. \"No way, no time, this one doesn't count. You didn't even give me time to get ready! I just put away my lunch!\"\n\n\"It better be somethin' heavy,\" she responds, hefting me up and down a little to test my weight. \"Every damn day you gettin' fluffier 'n' lighter. Y'gonna float away, you don't eat more.\"\n\nJazz sets me down, and I'm about to make a cool comeback when a loud cough gets both of us looking down the row.\n\nMy boss, a black rabbit with a very stern look and a chin that says 'plastic surgery' glares at us, hands on his hips. \"Am I going to have to write you two up again? You can roughhouse on your own time, but not on company property, and not on company time!\"\n\n\"Sorry, Tommy,\" I mutter, unable to muster a serious enough tone for his liking. He scowls further. \"But uh, technically I wasn't even clocked in yet.\"\n\n\"Well [b]clock in,[/b]\" he insists, tucking a clipboard under his arm as he walks off. \"You're already late. I don't have time for your nonsense today.\"\n\nJazz sighs, grumbling something, and just as the mood's about to turn I look up to see this towering hyena making that fucking face at me. That fucking impossible to describe face, with her chin jutted out and her lips puckered up and a very stern, very familiar look in her eyes. And I fuckin' lose it. Any time you want to make someone here crack the fuck up, you just pull out the Tommy face. It works every time. It even works on Raúl. And so far I don't think I've seen anything else make Raúl laugh.\n\nWhen we both stop giggling like idiots, she shoves her paws in her coat pockets. \"'Ey, Aaron loved that Mailwolf book you told me 'bout. Got 'im away from Erminecraft for a while.\"\n\n\"Aw, that's great. I'll see if I can get any other recommendations for the same reading level. I told you my neighbor works at the library, he'll point me in the right direction.\"\n\nShe smiles, and I finally shrug and thumb a hoof towards the entrance.\n\n\"I really should clock in.\"\n\nThe hyena nods, like I said something wise. \"Yeah.\"\n\n \n\n3 AM.\n\nLunch. Didn't have breakfast, so I'm starving.\n\nGot my reheated stir fry and my pomegranate juice, and I shuffle my way out to the back dock. Jason and Raúl are here, just sitting quietly at the edge of the concrete loading bay and staring off at the peaceful night, so I sit with them and do the same, drawing up my spring-loaded chopsticks and digging in.\n\nPretty good. Too much oil. Next time will be even better.\n\n\"Thanks for covering for me with Tommy the other day,\" Raúl mutters while I'm mid bite. \"I got enough strikes.\"\n\n\"Ohb ygheah,\" I swallow before continuing that thought. \"Yeah, no problem. Everything okay?\"\n\n\"Yeah, s'okay now,\" the badger nods quickly. He doesn't go into any further detail, but I don't press either.\n\nJason leans past him and holds out a lit joint in my direction. \"You want a hit?\"\n\nI wave my hoof. \"Oh, nah. Thanks man. I'm feeling pretty good today.\"\n\nHe leans back without another word and takes a long drag, then passes it to Raúl. I dig into my lunch, and we all just kinda sit there in mutual silence, relaxing.\n\nReally a beautiful night.\n\nAs I'm finishing up the last savory bite of pepper and onion, movement in the park catches my eye. I squint into the pre-morning darkness at the shape flitting between the park's standing lights. Something moving around, flashes of tan and white. I think I know what it is, but it shouldn't be.\n\nA firefly drifts past a moment later, lingering in front of my face. Moving as little as possible, I slowly gather up my empty plasticware. Then, in a single move, I clap the bowl and its lid over the bug, neatly capturing the glowing insect.\n\nJason's watching other things but I hear Raúl chuckle a little. Damn, guess I got the spirit of the Bug Out after all. I tuck the whole thing into my brown paper lunchbag. I oughta show Charlie.\n\nSpeaking of. No more delaying the inevitable.\n\nI check my phone, excuse myself, and hop off the loading dock, plodding towards the park.\n\n \n\nThe mysterious shape bolts in front of me, swinging wildly with an uncharacteristically clumsy energy.\n\n\"Charlie?\"\n\n\"Cormo,\" she pants openly, catching her breath. She's hunched forward, one paw bracing herself on her knee, the other gripping that long bug net.\n\n\"I thought you'd have moved to your next spot by now. How's the Bug Out going?\"\n\nShe gestures at the nearby iron bench where her little plastic terraria are laid out. Each one is empty.\n\n\"Terribly,\" she responds, shaking her head. \"Hours on the hunt and I haven't caught a single specimen.\"\n\nHer voice is ragged and not just from exhaustion. I've never heard her so audibly frustrated.\n\n\"I'm really sorry to hear that,\" I tell her, not sure what to say. \"I know this means a lot to you.\"\n\nShe sighs deeply, sitting on the bench. From the backpack leaning against it, she produces a water bottle, taking a long drink. Finally she slams it down on the bench with an angry grunt.\n\n\"I've read every guide I could get my paws on. I really didn't expect so much difficulty.\"\n\nI stand there for a moment in silence. The chirping of nighttime bugs carries quietly through the stillness of the park, and there doesn't appear to be anyone here but us. She stares at the ground, catching her breath, and I just watch her.\n\nI guess I always thought of Charlie as someone who can do anything effortlessly. After all we've been through, she really makes so many things look easy. To see her struggling like this, it's... a strange feeling.\n\nI don't like it.\n\n\"Well, hey, guess no one can be perfect at [i]everything,[/i]\" I joke.\n\nShe looks up at me with a blank expression. That wasn't it.\n\n\"Uh... I dunno. You'll pick it up as you go, I'm sure. Plus, look, you're new at this, right?\" I shrug my puffy shoulders and tap my hooves together, fumbling for something to offer her. \"New skills take time to learn. You can't master it overnight. And, y'know, practice makes perfect.\"\n\nShe continues staring at me, then finally rises to her feet. \"Did you just come here for meaninglessly vacuous soundbites?\"\n\n\"...Huh?\"\n\n\"...I apologize. I'm frustrated. But if you're trying to help, spare me the platitudes.\" The scrawny fox fixes her turtleneck collar and shoves the water bottle into her backpack.\n\nI glance down at myself, then back up at her. \"I just-- thought it'd help.\"\n\nShe shakes her head, hefting the net. \"With all the tribulations you've faced, I would have thought you had a more genuine perspective to offer.\"\n\nI raise my brows, considering for a moment, then shove my hooves into my pockets.\n\n\"No, you're right, Charlie. I'm just repeating stuff people have told me. That if you suck at something long enough, you get good at it. But in my experience, the truth is sometimes you... just don't.\"\n\nShe stares at me, squinting even deeper, and looking almost offended, but I hold up a hoof pre-emptively.\n\n\"Sometimes you're naturally great at something you hate. Sometimes you suck ass at something you love. And the secret nobody ever told me, and I wish they would have, is that it's okay. So, yeah: maybe you suck at catching bugs. Maybe you'll only get better really slowly, and it'll take forever. But it doesn't [b]matter.[/b]\"\n\nShe shakes her head. \"Sure it does.\"\n\n\"For a prize, for first place, sure, maybe. But if you're having fun, who cares? Like... who are you answering to? I lived so much of my life feeling like someone was always looking over my shoulder and judging me, like even if nobody was around I had to always worry that I was doing it wrong, or looking stupid, and I couldn't just enjoy myself the way I wanted to if I was being embarrassing or awkward or cringe or whatever.\"\n\nI put my hoof on her shoulder, which she looks at for a moment.\n\n\"Look, Charlie, just... this bug catching stuff obviously means a lot to you. I've basically never seen you so excited. You were having fun this morning. Just enjoy the process. Y'know? Who cares if you don't win? Or place? Or even catch anything? This, right here, this is what you were so excited about, and you can't let anyone, real or imagined, take that from you. If you're having fun, just do it. Don't let your own self-conscious brain kick you down for having fun because you're not doing it at max efficiency, or you're not succeeding fast enough, or you're making a fool of yourself. If you enjoy doing it, do it. Love of the game, you know?\"\n\nShe stares at me for a long moment, then nods.\n\n\"That really did come from the heart, didn't it?\"\n\nI smile back at her. Damn, did I just pull out some actual fucking wisdom or something? Now I get why everyone's always doing it to my dumb ass. That felt [i]great.[/i]\n\n\"I dunno, I guess.\" I answer as modestly as I can. \"I'm just telling you what I wish someone told me when I got frustrated trying to make it work.\"\n\nShe nods. \"I believe I understand where you're coming from. Thank you, Cormo. Sincerely.\"\n\nMy smile gets wider and I can feel the heat in my face. \"Heh. Uhh, no problem. I'm just... not used to being the one giving life advice. I hope it helped.\"\n\nShe peers slowly around the park, gathering her equipment. \"Reasonably. I know where I need to be now.\"\n\n\"Well... uh, I'm glad!\" I clap my hooves and gesture back at the warehouse I left behind. \"I gotta get back to work. When I see you at home, you can tell me all about it.\"\n\n\"Mhm. What's in the bag?\"\n\n\"Oh.\" I look down at my clutched cargo, nonchalant. \"Just my lunch.\"\n\n\"Ah.\"\n\nI'd pat her on the back, but I feel like I already pushed it touching her shoulder, so I just give her a really stupid fucking thumbs up like I'm the lamest person on the planet and hurry back.\n\nCan't keep the boss waiting. He'd write me up again, I'm sure. I reflexively make the Tommy face to myself as I'm walking and start to crack up, even with no one else around.\n\n \n\nThe sun's up over the horizon by the time I'm off work, glaring against the thin clouds of a pale sky. The walk home is much less energetic alone, and the mammals I pass are wearier, quieter. Well. I feel that.\n\nI round the corner onto my street and a minute later I'm finally back in the familiar lobby. Charlie's there, sitting alone on the sofa, looking pleasantly relaxed and watching some kind of bug-catching show. Unsurprisingly.\n\n\"Morning, Charlie. How'd the Bug Out go?\"\n\n\"I quit,\" she answers. \"I've been here since we spoke.\"\n\n\"What?!\" I nearly trip over myself stumbling to the couch, looking around for any trace of her bug catching equipment. \"Why would you quit?\"\n\nThe fox shrugs.\n\n\"But--\" I circle around to the front of the couch, eyeing her. \"But I mean, we had that talk, you said it helped--\"\n\n\"Oh, it did,\" she nods absently, returning her attention to the tv. \"Your message about how the satisfaction and enjoyment of an engaging present mattered more than the perceived or hopeful outcome of a high-level performance in the future. Better to have fun than win, what matters is how you feel doing it, et cetera.\"\n\n\"Right, so why quit??\"\n\n\"That's exactly why. I wasn't having fun; I only wanted to win. When winning was no longer a believable outcome, I no longer had any pretenses to hide the fact that I did not enjoy the act.\"\n\nI slump my shoulders. \"But... you seemed so excited. You were going on and on.\"\n\n\"Competitive bugsport is a rather fascinating pastime. I allowed my excitement to lead me into a bit of a fixation,\" she explains. \"And I fixated on the idea more than the reality.\"\n\nShe reaches into a small bag of chips at her side, popping one into her mouth.\n\n\"And the reality is I don't like catching bugs very much. I much prefer when others do it.\"\n\nI scratch my chin, considering it.\n\n\"You're not upset?\"\n\n\"That I will be able to procure only a partial refund on my equipment and accessories, perhaps. However, I have attained a better understanding of myself and my goals. Therefore I consider myself fulfilled.\"\n\n\"But... my advice [i]did[/i] help?\"\n\n\"Yes. Thank you, Cormo.\"\n\n\"Well!\" my smile returns and I dust my hooves off, turning to the stairs. \"All's well that ends well, then. Glad I could help. Enjoy your show, Charlie.\"\n\n\"Your shirt is inside-out,\" she calls after me. \"It's been inside-out all morning, I forgot to mention during the walk.\"\n\n\"Wwwwhoops!\" I call back musically, beaming.\n\nI can't shake the smile as I head upstairs, back to my room. Laundry's done, work's done. Feels good. And I still have some stir fry left over for dinner. Starting to feel like I've got my life more together than I thought.\n\nI check my phone. Still one unread message.\n\nFrom my sister.\n\nYeah, stir fry sounds good right now. Maybe some green beans on the side.\n\nMy shoulder hurts a little. But otherwise, everything's gone pretty great today.\n\nLove of the game.[/section]\n[section=Notes]I would like to thank everyone who has waited so patiently for this story, always with kind and understanding support.\n\nA lot has happened to me in the interim. I don't wish to make it anyone else's problem, but things have been hard for me, and for a long time, I didn't know if I was going to ever feel like I could continue this story. Even when I eventually did feel that way, I had lost my ghost co-writer, so I wasn't sure I could even continue if I wanted to, from a practical standpoint.\n\nIf this chapter feels different, it's not just the rust of four years. It's the absence of two people integral to this story.\n\nNevertheless, I've done my best. I hope the story still stands well enough.\n\nI also want to let readers know in advance that I'm returning to Pack Street with the intention to move towards an ending sooner rather than later. There won't be another 35 chapters, and it won't continue into perpetuity. I don't know how many more chapters there will be, but I intend to give Remmy's story the closure it deserves.\n\nThank you for staying with me.[/section]"
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  "description": "[i]\"As the weather gets colder, Remmy adapts to his new nightly routine.\"[/i]\n\n[section=Story]A sharply bending chord from The Ramboy Dukes jolts me from sleep. I twist weirdly in bed to slap my phone and shut it off, but a sharp pain in my shoulder makes me immediately regret it. Grumbling, I roll to a sitting position, squint against the blinding glare of my phone, and try to shake off the cobwebs of a strange dream about showering with my shirt on.\n\nOne unread message.\n\nI'm on my feet in a minute. Two. Clock says 8:02. My crumpled headwool sways with each step and my hooves finally stumble to the window of my darkened room.\n\nThe downtown lights stretch on to the horizon. Silhouettes of skyscrapers stitch a ghostly skyline, fanning out glowing streaks of red bumper lights along every major artery, pumping from Peak Street all the way down to Pack and beyond. Most of the city is winding down and getting ready to sleep.\n\nBut the neighborhood around me is loud, alive.\n\nMammals up late, nocturnal by nature or otherwise, lope and shamble across the cracked sidewalks. A bat-eared fox in a puffy throwback vest catcalls a pair of passing dingos who carry long-handled nets and plastic boxes. A small group of painted dogs yip and chatter around the stoop of the building across from me, each one with the gleaming orange embers of a lit cigarette. A floor below, on the steps of my building, the Crowns, a mongoose basks quietly, watching the sky.\n\nI smirk to myself, crack the window, and lean out.\n\n\"Hey, Keith! How you been, man?\"\n\nThe mongoose looks around slowly, sleepily, before turning up to spot me. He nods at me with a broad smile and mouths something, but if he's saying anything, I can't hear him.\n\nThen he goes back to watching the sky.\n\nI've come to like the night. As a ram, I'm diurnal by nature, so adapting to an almost completely reversed timetable wasn't super easy, but I got the hang of it quick enough. And one thing I've learned is Pack Street is always quietest in the midday. Plenty of nocturnal mammals around here, like I said, but even more that are [i]crepuscular[/i]. I learned that word a while ago. It means they're most active in the times between day and night. Morning, evening, times like around now. Catch the crepuscular mammals, plus the best overlap for diurnals who aren't ready for bed yet and nocturnals up early, or who stayed up all... day? \"Stayed up all day\" sounds dumb, but what else are you gonna call it?\n\nAnyway. That's when this street is the busiest.\n\nThat's when all the [i]parties[/i] happen.\n\nI check my phone. 8:15. Gotta get this show on the road. I toddle off to the bathroom, to wash my face in the mirror.\n\nA splash of cold water. I'd say it helps wake me up but I'm plenty awake by now. Feeling fine, actually. I yawn, stretch, scratch my snout. Trace the line where I know the scar was, even though I can't see it.\n\nDo you know how much it sucks that the scar didn't even [i]last?[/i] I could've had a super cool fucking [i]face scar.[/i] The prettyboy kind, too, the kind that doesn't leave you even a little disfigured or anything, just gets all the girls thinking you're cool and dangerous. Could've at least left me a white line or something distinct I could talk about at parties. But the damn thing was totally gone in just a couple months. Sucks. It's like I basically got jumped for nothing.\n\nI start for the shower, but catch myself. Might as well start my laundry now, have it going while I wait. I click on the main lights in my apartment, finally. Then, throwing in a few last-minute articles, I heft my old plastic hamper full of dirty clothes and haul myself to the door.\n\nDown the broad stairs. I figure this apartment's rated for mammals a few sizes bigger than me, and paws aren't as compact as hooves to begin with, so they need the extra space. When I first moved in, I hated how long each step was. Now I'm glad to have it, especially when I can barely see over my laundry to the next step.\n\nChatter in the lobby. This time of night, it's not unusual. Charlie sits hunched forward in an old wood chair, talking rather more animatedly than I'm used to seeing her. Her big fluffy fox tail swishes and she even gestures, drawing little diagrams in the air and making precise motions. Ozzy's lounging on the even older sofa, wearing the sort of toothy grin I've come to expect out of most hyenas, and returning her enthusiasm with plenty of his own. I give them a wave, but only Charlie sees me, and she manages just a faint nod before returning to her conversation.\n\nI swing down the hall out of the lobby, past Ozzy's apartment door, and finally down the cold concrete stairs. Everything down here's concrete. There's not so much as a dangling bare lightbulb in the narrow basement hall. But the room up ahead, off to the side, always has a dim yellow glow spilling out. A cozy little hot-denim-scented beacon in the dark. A growing hum and loud conversation I can't quite discern lets me know it's occupied.\n\nI hustle into the room (because the laundry's heavy, not because I'm scared of the dark) and heave my basket onto the flaking laminate countertop.\n\n\"Look who's here.\"\n\n\"Hey, Anneke.\"\n\nI shove my laundry aside to greet the lithe, half-dressed aardwolf lounging on one of the dryers that line the far wall. She's got a loose tank top and a pair of gray leggings on. I'm not sure I've ever seen her in leggings. They make her lower half look super skinny, pulling all the puffy fur around her legs tight to the skin and outlining the slender curves underneath.\n\nIt's a good look. Like, a really good look. It also makes all the fur around her hips bunch up and fluff way out, like she's wearing someone else's lower half. I guess if she shaved, she'd look like this all over. You know, mammals say shaving is weird, but nobody thinks twice when I shear. I dunno. I think she'd look pretty cute all sheared down. It's like... another layer of naked.\n\nShe leans forward, elbows on her knees, idly kicking her feet over the edge of the rattling machine. And only now do I notice a dark-furred jackal standing motionless against the wall to my left. I meet her gaze, but I can't help but notice she's even [i]less[/i] dressed, wearing only a surprisingly plain white bra and panties. I'd never have imagined Avo even owned such unadorned undies. And that creamy mocha-colored underbelly of hers running from her neck to her--\n\nI looked. She saw me look.\n\n\"Damn,\" I sigh, running a hoof through my headwool and openly glancing between the two of them. \"I must still be dreaming.\"\n\n\"Shut the fuck up,\" Avo rolls her eyes.\n\nAnna giggles. \"Nice jammies.\"\n\nI take the opportunity to look her up and down a second time. \"You too, girl,\" I smile as smoothly as I can, which probably isn't very.\n\nShe responds with a sort of low purr or growl, batting her paw at me in the air, and Avo shakes her head. I slide my laundry basket to one of the empty machines and start loading it.\n\n\"Hope I wasn't interrupting anything.\"\n\nThe dryer Anna's sitting on suddenly kicks onto high cycle and her speech becomes juddery. \"HeY, iT's bEeN cOlD, rIgHt?\"\n\n\"I heard we're gonna get a really sharp winter this year,\" I agree, loading clothes and grabbing the detergent from the bottom of my basket. \"Gonna be my first winter here, actually. Does it get bad?\"\n\n\"Well,\" Avo begins to say something, then pats her hips with both palms, peering down for a second at herself. She shakes her head, then re-crosses her arms.\n\nAnna smirks but I guess I'm missing something.\n\n\"Well,\" she starts again, \"We're almost right up against the R-S weather wall. So things can get pretty extreme in peak seasons.\"\n\n\"Y'know, I've never actually gone past the wall here,\" I remark. \"There not a lot of travel, or is it just me?\"\n\nShe makes a noncommittal shrug. \"I take a stroll to Shady every now and then. You could walk to Marsh from here, too, which you'll basically have to if you want to catch any of the other main lines.\"\n\nI fish some coins out of my pocket and load 'em up. \"Yeah, I saw that. I mostly just took it to get to work, when I was working way out in Tundra. I can't believe how few connections the lines have. Just looking at the subway map makes me think I'm losing my mind.\"\n\n[b]\"Yeah,\"[/b] she almost barks back. \"The actual service is great but the lines are a fucking joke.\"\n\nEvidently bored by the ongoing discussion, Anna stretches, first with paws down towards the ground, looking like she'll topple forward off the dryer, then all the way up, high in the air. Her long, bare, fuzzy midriff peeks inch by inch from under her top and it takes all my willpower to look away before she notices.\n\nAvo is staring at me with one raised brow and a calm smile.\n\n\"...So uh, is there really no connection at all between the Z and the Inner Loop around here?\"\n\n\"Yeah. It's [i]Marsh[/i].\"\n\nI compose myself as best I'm able and pop my coins in, starting the machine. \"For real? So I can walk ten minutes to Marshlands or--\"\n\n\"Yeah, or take the southbound Inner ALL the way around.\" She's suddenly a lot louder, to be heard over the growing din. \"You want to go [i]anywhere[/i] west from here, you walk or you ride the entire loop the other way first.\"\n\nI leave my detergent bottle in the basket and heft them both onto the now-rattling washing machine. \"Is there no connecting bus?\"\n\n\"Can we shut up about buses and trains? They're for nerds anyway, you're both nerds.\" Anneke hops off the dryer about when her teeth start chattering.\n\nAvo scoffs playfully, jabbing a claw at her. \"Two minutes ago you told me you were up all day playing Erminecraft.\"\n\n\"That's not nerd shit,\" she retorts, unbothered. \"Everyone plays Erminecraft. Anyway, shouldn't being this close to the wall make the weather more mild? At the least we should have hot winters and chill summers. Like, we're standing right next to the AC.\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" I admit. \"When we learned about the walls in school it was in pretty broad strokes.\"\n\nAvo reaches over and retrieves her phone from the nearby countertop. \"Well, they're doing a big thing about 'em this Spring, for the Zootennial. If you really want to learn about 'em.\"\n\n\"Oh yeah, the Zootennial,\" Anna chuckles. \"I didn't get invited but I'm pretty sure Gazelle will be taking me as her plus one.\"\n\n\"My invite's probably in the mail,\" I nod calmly.\n\n\"Oh yeah,\" she agrees. \"For sure.\"\n\nAvo settles against the counter and starts tapping away on her phone, either browsing in a hurry or playing some game. Anna checks her machine, which reads two minutes, and starts to pace around the room, evidently eager to leave and get on with her day. Speaking of which--\n\n\"I'd really love to stay and chat, but I've gotta get ready. Hope you both have a great night.\"\n\nAnna nods. \"Mhm.\"\n\n\"I'll be here a while longer,\" Avo informs me. \"Gimme some quarters and I can throw your laundry into the dryer when it's done. Assuming you trust me to handle your unmentionables, I mean.\"\n\nI pause for a second, and my snout tingles. Normally, I'd say that's kind of a weird thing to offer, and I really don't know how I feel about one of my neighbors going through my laundry like that. I mean, I don't [i]distrust[/i] Avo, but I dunno, laundry feels weirdly personal to me. Am I just being weird?\n\nWell. Whatever. It'll save me time so I should really accept the generosity. I hand her some coins.\n\n\"Just please don't prank me or whatever,\" I ask plainly.\n\n\"What the hell am I going to do? You think I'm gonna dig through your dirty-ass clothes?\"\n\n\"I don't know!\" I shake my head with both hands up, exasperated. \"Just don't be weird about it!\"\n\nAvo narrows her eyes. \"You're the one being weird. I'm just helping you out.\"\n\n\"All right. Fine. Sorry. Just... thank you.\"\n\nI quickly exit the room and pretend not to hear her and Anneke giggling when I head up the stairs. Charlie and Ozzy are still chatting, so I wave again as I pass (they don't notice me, I think) on my way back towards my room.\n\nRemembered my keys this time.\n\nAnyway. Shower next. Water's nice and hot. This always takes forever, which is why I give myself so much time in the morning before I have to leave. I kinda zone out as I scrub up, and before I know it I'm clean as a daisy. Drying off doesn't take that long -- better than it does a lot of longhair mammals, thanks to the magic of wool -- and soon I'm all fluffy and ready to go.\n\nI step back into my room, peer into the closet, and oh look it's empty there's no clothes in the closet.\n\nHm! How about that.\n\nThe next three minutes are a shuffled series of me re-checking the closet, walking a circle around my room, and examining the floor, couch, and bed, in case I forgot something. Like on the fifth try something will just magically be there. After a dozen or so passes, my brain finally accepts the reality that I did not leave myself any clean clothes.\n\nThere's worse places to be stranded naked than my own apartment. Okay. A few ways to deal with this. Let's think rationally. Think positively.\n\nI don't want to throw on the clothes I slept in. Not when I'm all clean.\n\nI also really don't want to just... stroll back down in my towel. I guess it wouldn't be too compromising. I mean, I've been growing my wool out for the winter season, so I even have a bit of built-in modesty. But I'm not convinced everyone else would see it that way.\n\nIf Avo and Anna are still there, they'd laugh themselves silly seeing me looking like this in a common space. Maybe they're not. Maybe I can sneak in and get out unnoticed. But what if someone else is there?? Al would think I'm mentally deficient or something. Marty would call me a freak or a pervert. Ozzy would laugh loud enough to wake up the building. Does Betty use this laundry room? I mean she must, right? But I don't think I've ever bumped into her down here. Maybe her place next door has its own unit.\n\nOkay. I have my phone. I could just call someone to pick up my laundry for me. I know Charlie was down there. Maybe she still is. I have a number for her on my contacts that's only a month old. She might still be using it. And she doesn't seem the type to judge.\n\nI wrap my towel around my waist, stand awkwardly by the door, and start tapping out a text. Something straight to the point. This is one mammal who doesn't like to waste time.\n\nI just hope she'll spare a little for me.\n\n \n\nA very long ten minutes later and there's a knock on my door. I open up to see a tawny fox holding my laundry and standing patiently in the hall. She's wearing what looks like a hiker's backpack, a little big for her, with plastic cages and a long bug net stuck to the outside with those little metal clasper things.\n\n\"Cormo,\" Charlie nods.\n\nGood timing. I've got to leave soon. \"Thanks for this, seriously. I'll owe you--\"\n\nCharlie pushes the door open with the basket. \"Of course. Have you heard about the Bug Out today?\"\n\nI snap flush red and pace after her. \"Charlie, I'm not even dressed!\"\n\n\"Nice,\" she remarks, her narrow eyes not even looking up at me as she deposits the freshly clean haul on my bed. \"It's a seasonal event where you attempt to catch local insects. I'm going to be competing for the first time today.\"\n\n\"That's great, but--\"\n\n\"I have spent the last four days reading up on theory and past winners,\" she sits on my bed as she explains it to me, only to get up a moment later and begin pacing the room. \"Braxton Calhoun won the Rainforest District Bug Out six years running and he has a dedicated podcast detailing the nuances of his strategy. So first off, one thing a lot of people assume is that stealth is inherently the best strategy for catching scorers. Those are insects announced by the head panel as the target insects for the challenge. Specific clades must be delineated as valid, you see. Because if they just took any bugs at all, mammals could hoard them in advance or even breed them and try to turn them in which would make it an ill-gotten victory, naturally, but you also can't have officials and volunteers tracking every single banded participant -- I should mention they make you wear a wristband to show you're participating, like at a club or a bounce house or similar venue -- so since the honor system wouldn't be satisfactory in an unsurveilled ecosystem like this, it's inevitable that certain at-runtime statutes be declared in order to keep fair score. Obviously.\"\n\nI just sorta stand there blinking at her, clutching my towel and feeling very exposed. \"Uh. Oh. Sure, right, makes sense.\"\n\nShe busies herself around my apartment, hardly looking at me but repeatedly peering out the window, walking in and out of the bathroom, or readjusting the laundry basket on my bed. \"Well, as I said, most mammals assume stealth is the winning move. But as Calhoun points out, many insects have a very high F-Tolerance, which is a measurement of their likelihood to flee accounting for proximity, speed, and the relative size of the nearby movement. So despite a preponderance of common expectations, you can get within catching distance of many potential targets with little to no caution given to discretion, so long as you come armed with an adequate understanding of your quarry. It's a very liberating method.\"\n\nI'm not sure I've... [i]ever[/i] seen her this animated. She's illustrating all these concepts with accompanying gestures, and she seems uncharacteristically pressed to sit still for more than a few seconds.\n\n\"Oh,\" I nod blankly, not really knowing what else to do. \"Well, uh, it sounds like you're excited to get started.\"\n\n\"I aim to take the ultimate prize in the local division.\" She paces into my kitchen and absently opens up my cupboard, literally poking her nose inside. \"I've even brought appropriate gear.\"\n\nAh, that explains it. \"Is it a cash prize then?\"\n\nShe closes the cupboard, swishing her impressively fluffy tail behind her. \"No. Cash prizes were abandoned over 20 years ago as one of multiple ramifications of the CNR scandal. A small but materially unimportant trophy is offered, but the real prize is recognition of mastery and expertise.\"\n\nHuh. \"Well, I'm sure you'll do great.\"\n\nShe nods back. \"Thanks. Are you competing? The local sporting goods outlets have been stocking special hoof-grip nets ever since the event took off in 1992. A standard net for a new participant would be satisfactory but if you want a professional grade catch--\"\n\n\"Charlie--\" I step forward, waving a free hoof while keeping my towel up with the other. \"Sorry, no, I probably won't--\"\n\n\"Ah, too bad. When the event begins I have a plan to--\"\n\n\"Sorry, look, I'd love to stay and chat about the Bug Off but I've got to leave in a few minutes. I've got work, y'know? It's kind of a walk and I don't want to be late.\"\n\nCharlie clasps her paws behind her back, rocking on her heels. \"Oh. That's all right, I'll walk with you. There's a park near the warehouse where I can start my route. I'll tell you more on the way.\"\n\n\"...uh.\" I look around the room as if I'll spot something to help me out, but finally I just toss my hooves up and say, \"Sure. Uh, just -- I need to get dressed.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" she nods, sitting back on the bed. \"Now, given the early cold and the delayed start of this year's event, the most likely candidates for the target species would be something from the genus of--\"\n\nI interrupt again. \"Uh, I'd like some privacy while I dress.\"\n\n\"Oh.\" Charlie runs a paw through her slicked-back headfur and flicks her ears as she rises to stand. \"Of course. I'll be outside.\"\n\nI give her a polite, grateful nod and wait for her to step back out into the apartment hall, then start rummaging through my laundry and tossing on the first shirt I find.\n\n\"So yes, not a lot of species can handle an early cold like this.\" I freeze as I hear Charlie's voice come through the door. I think she might actually be standing right up against the jamb. \"But the official committee had delays starting the local division's planning because of budgetary cuts that are going into effect this year. And you'd be surprised how many bugs are out at night, which is why they start in the A.M.\"\n\nI take a breath and get back to throwing my clothes on.\n\nStrange morning.\n\n \n\nSo, one of the cool things about my new job is that it's just down on Hill Street. Walkable, unlike my old gig way out in Tundratown. Makes the morning commute -- or I guess, evening commute -- a lot easier to bear. Walking under the stars like this, with so many mammals passing on the sidewalk, I feel the pulse of the city I live in. Charlie seems to agree, since she's been walking the whole way with me, going on and on about the big bug event today. I didn't even know she cared about bugs, except as a vehicle for sauce. I always thought that was like, a thing for kids. If you told me the city had a thriving competitive-bug-catching scene, I-- well I guess I wouldn't have been that shocked, but it is pretty novel.\n\nAnyway, when we round the corner and the warehouse finally comes into view, past the small grassy park, she's still going on about it.\n\nShe holds her net out at arm's length, straight vertically, even as she plods along beside me. \"Regardless, that's only the legacy scoring system. The new method, which is quite a great deal more standardized, and thus better suited to objective scaling, was developed in 2005, as a direct consequence of outcry by then-champion Jonah Edquist. The judges had been accused of favoritism the previous year, and since the criteria for scoring weren't yet regulated city-wide, it generated a controversy.\"\n\n\"Ah, yeah, I can see why,\" I nod rapidly, trying to find a polite way to finally break out of this lore dump. \"So, hey, look at that! We're here, and I gotta go clock in. Uh, thanks for keeping me company, Charlie. Good luck today.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\" The fox tilts her head, smiling just a tiny bit in a rare show of unguarded emotion, and spins the net deftly in her paws. \"In 31 minutes the announcement will go out to my tracker app, and I'm going to start here and try to gather a few early silvers before moving down my planned route. I will do all I can.\"\n\nI shrug, straightening the paper bag in my hooves to keep the contents from shifting. \"Well, I think with all your prep you'll likely squash the competition.\"\n\n\"Don't say 'squash',\" she corrects, her tail swishing in a broad circle behind her as she pivots toward the park. \"Bad luck.\"\n\nI watch her for a moment, check my phone, then hustle inside.\n\n \n\nThis place always surprises me with how quiet it is, since outside the forklift, we don't have much machinery. My last gig dealt with refrigeration trucks, humming and rolling in and out, and it was so much louder. I didn't even realize how much it bothered me. The place is empty by comparison, just your standard industrial warehouse with big metal girders holding up a cavernous roof, and rows and rows of enormous shelves. Each one's covered in goods, all in individually marked boxes and plastic-wrapped pallets.\n\nI swing around the low interior break room, past the empty \"Employee of the Month\" frame, and pop my bagged lunch in the fridge, which looks like it's older than I am. Then it's off to the check-in station. But as I'm turning the corner out of the isolated little free-standing room, a loud voice breaks the silence and I nearly jump out of my wool.\n\n[b]\"REMMY!\"[/b]\n\nI whirl on my heels to see a huge, shaggy brown hyena hunched forward near the warehouse entrance, flexing her claws. She's wide, built, broad-shouldered. Mane decorated with braids and beads. Her eyes are dark, baggy. But her bared teeth gleam against the overhead lighting.\n\n[b]\"I gotchu now!\"[/b]\n\n\"Fuck.\"\n\nFor a moment, nothing happens. Everything's quiet again, waiting.\n\nI hesitate, glancing at my phone, then before she can make the first move, I spin, racing over the poured concrete flooring as I flee into the stacks, hearing her roar and break into a sprint behind me. I duck past the unsorted piles by Sector A and make a skittering turn down Row 2, my hooves scratching to get enough grip. I pass Jason, a stout wolverine in a bright orange safety vest, who looks up at me with an unbothered expression.\n\n\"Little [b]help?![/b]\" I bleat as I pass him at Mach 5.\n\nHe shrugs, smiling, and I curse under my breath. The sound of clawed paws on warehouse flooring are getting closer.\n\nI juke left, then dive right, hoping to escape my pursuer in the winding shelves, but as soon as I turn the corner I see that someone left the forklift parked diagonally and it's blocking the path. I clumsily whip around to take another route, but it's too late. The hyena's a foot away and barreling at me with the force of a truck. I brace myself, wincing.\n\n[b]\"Gotchu!\"[/b] She hauls me straight off my hooves and into the air, spinning me as all her momentum comes to a stop.\n\n\"Damn, Jazz! Did you put this forklift here?!\"\n\nShe grins at me. \"Naww. Time?\"\n\nI knit my brow, laughing. \"No way, no time, this one doesn't count. You didn't even give me time to get ready! I just put away my lunch!\"\n\n\"It better be somethin' heavy,\" she responds, hefting me up and down a little to test my weight. \"Every damn day you gettin' fluffier 'n' lighter. Y'gonna float away, you don't eat more.\"\n\nJazz sets me down, and I'm about to make a cool comeback when a loud cough gets both of us looking down the row.\n\nMy boss, a black rabbit with a very stern look and a chin that says 'plastic surgery' glares at us, hands on his hips. \"Am I going to have to write you two up again? You can roughhouse on your own time, but not on company property, and not on company time!\"\n\n\"Sorry, Tommy,\" I mutter, unable to muster a serious enough tone for his liking. He scowls further. \"But uh, technically I wasn't even clocked in yet.\"\n\n\"Well [b]clock in,[/b]\" he insists, tucking a clipboard under his arm as he walks off. \"You're already late. I don't have time for your nonsense today.\"\n\nJazz sighs, grumbling something, and just as the mood's about to turn I look up to see this towering hyena making that fucking face at me. That fucking impossible to describe face, with her chin jutted out and her lips puckered up and a very stern, very familiar look in her eyes. And I fuckin' lose it. Any time you want to make someone here crack the fuck up, you just pull out the Tommy face. It works every time. It even works on Raúl. And so far I don't think I've seen anything else make Raúl laugh.\n\nWhen we both stop giggling like idiots, she shoves her paws in her coat pockets. \"'Ey, Aaron loved that Mailwolf book you told me 'bout. Got 'im away from Erminecraft for a while.\"\n\n\"Aw, that's great. I'll see if I can get any other recommendations for the same reading level. I told you my neighbor works at the library, he'll point me in the right direction.\"\n\nShe smiles, and I finally shrug and thumb a hoof towards the entrance.\n\n\"I really should clock in.\"\n\nThe hyena nods, like I said something wise. \"Yeah.\"\n\n \n\n3 AM.\n\nLunch. Didn't have breakfast, so I'm starving.\n\nGot my reheated stir fry and my pomegranate juice, and I shuffle my way out to the back dock. Jason and Raúl are here, just sitting quietly at the edge of the concrete loading bay and staring off at the peaceful night, so I sit with them and do the same, drawing up my spring-loaded chopsticks and digging in.\n\nPretty good. Too much oil. Next time will be even better.\n\n\"Thanks for covering for me with Tommy the other day,\" Raúl mutters while I'm mid bite. \"I got enough strikes.\"\n\n\"Ohb ygheah,\" I swallow before continuing that thought. \"Yeah, no problem. Everything okay?\"\n\n\"Yeah, s'okay now,\" the badger nods quickly. He doesn't go into any further detail, but I don't press either.\n\nJason leans past him and holds out a lit joint in my direction. \"You want a hit?\"\n\nI wave my hoof. \"Oh, nah. Thanks man. I'm feeling pretty good today.\"\n\nHe leans back without another word and takes a long drag, then passes it to Raúl. I dig into my lunch, and we all just kinda sit there in mutual silence, relaxing.\n\nReally a beautiful night.\n\nAs I'm finishing up the last savory bite of pepper and onion, movement in the park catches my eye. I squint into the pre-morning darkness at the shape flitting between the park's standing lights. Something moving around, flashes of tan and white. I think I know what it is, but it shouldn't be.\n\nA firefly drifts past a moment later, lingering in front of my face. Moving as little as possible, I slowly gather up my empty plasticware. Then, in a single move, I clap the bowl and its lid over the bug, neatly capturing the glowing insect.\n\nJason's watching other things but I hear Raúl chuckle a little. Damn, guess I got the spirit of the Bug Out after all. I tuck the whole thing into my brown paper lunchbag. I oughta show Charlie.\n\nSpeaking of. No more delaying the inevitable.\n\nI check my phone, excuse myself, and hop off the loading dock, plodding towards the park.\n\n \n\nThe mysterious shape bolts in front of me, swinging wildly with an uncharacteristically clumsy energy.\n\n\"Charlie?\"\n\n\"Cormo,\" she pants openly, catching her breath. She's hunched forward, one paw bracing herself on her knee, the other gripping that long bug net.\n\n\"I thought you'd have moved to your next spot by now. How's the Bug Out going?\"\n\nShe gestures at the nearby iron bench where her little plastic terraria are laid out. Each one is empty.\n\n\"Terribly,\" she responds, shaking her head. \"Hours on the hunt and I haven't caught a single specimen.\"\n\nHer voice is ragged and not just from exhaustion. I've never heard her so audibly frustrated.\n\n\"I'm really sorry to hear that,\" I tell her, not sure what to say. \"I know this means a lot to you.\"\n\nShe sighs deeply, sitting on the bench. From the backpack leaning against it, she produces a water bottle, taking a long drink. Finally she slams it down on the bench with an angry grunt.\n\n\"I've read every guide I could get my paws on. I really didn't expect so much difficulty.\"\n\nI stand there for a moment in silence. The chirping of nighttime bugs carries quietly through the stillness of the park, and there doesn't appear to be anyone here but us. She stares at the ground, catching her breath, and I just watch her.\n\nI guess I always thought of Charlie as someone who can do anything effortlessly. After all we've been through, she really makes so many things look easy. To see her struggling like this, it's... a strange feeling.\n\nI don't like it.\n\n\"Well, hey, guess no one can be perfect at [i]everything,[/i]\" I joke.\n\nShe looks up at me with a blank expression. That wasn't it.\n\n\"Uh... I dunno. You'll pick it up as you go, I'm sure. Plus, look, you're new at this, right?\" I shrug my puffy shoulders and tap my hooves together, fumbling for something to offer her. \"New skills take time to learn. You can't master it overnight. And, y'know, practice makes perfect.\"\n\nShe continues staring at me, then finally rises to her feet. \"Did you just come here for meaninglessly vacuous soundbites?\"\n\n\"...Huh?\"\n\n\"...I apologize. I'm frustrated. But if you're trying to help, spare me the platitudes.\" The scrawny fox fixes her turtleneck collar and shoves the water bottle into her backpack.\n\nI glance down at myself, then back up at her. \"I just-- thought it'd help.\"\n\nShe shakes her head, hefting the net. \"With all the tribulations you've faced, I would have thought you had a more genuine perspective to offer.\"\n\nI raise my brows, considering for a moment, then shove my hooves into my pockets.\n\n\"No, you're right, Charlie. I'm just repeating stuff people have told me. That if you suck at something long enough, you get good at it. But in my experience, the truth is sometimes you... just don't.\"\n\nShe stares at me, squinting even deeper, and looking almost offended, but I hold up a hoof pre-emptively.\n\n\"Sometimes you're naturally great at something you hate. Sometimes you suck ass at something you love. And the secret nobody ever told me, and I wish they would have, is that it's okay. So, yeah: maybe you suck at catching bugs. Maybe you'll only get better really slowly, and it'll take forever. But it doesn't [b]matter.[/b]\"\n\nShe shakes her head. \"Sure it does.\"\n\n\"For a prize, for first place, sure, maybe. But if you're having fun, who cares? Like... who are you answering to? I lived so much of my life feeling like someone was always looking over my shoulder and judging me, like even if nobody was around I had to always worry that I was doing it wrong, or looking stupid, and I couldn't just enjoy myself the way I wanted to if I was being embarrassing or awkward or cringe or whatever.\"\n\nI put my hoof on her shoulder, which she looks at for a moment.\n\n\"Look, Charlie, just... this bug catching stuff obviously means a lot to you. I've basically never seen you so excited. You were having fun this morning. Just enjoy the process. Y'know? Who cares if you don't win? Or place? Or even catch anything? This, right here, this is what you were so excited about, and you can't let anyone, real or imagined, take that from you. If you're having fun, just do it. Don't let your own self-conscious brain kick you down for having fun because you're not doing it at max efficiency, or you're not succeeding fast enough, or you're making a fool of yourself. If you enjoy doing it, do it. Love of the game, you know?\"\n\nShe stares at me for a long moment, then nods.\n\n\"That really did come from the heart, didn't it?\"\n\nI smile back at her. Damn, did I just pull out some actual fucking wisdom or something? Now I get why everyone's always doing it to my dumb ass. That felt [i]great.[/i]\n\n\"I dunno, I guess.\" I answer as modestly as I can. \"I'm just telling you what I wish someone told me when I got frustrated trying to make it work.\"\n\nShe nods. \"I believe I understand where you're coming from. Thank you, Cormo. Sincerely.\"\n\nMy smile gets wider and I can feel the heat in my face. \"Heh. Uhh, no problem. I'm just... not used to being the one giving life advice. I hope it helped.\"\n\nShe peers slowly around the park, gathering her equipment. \"Reasonably. I know where I need to be now.\"\n\n\"Well... uh, I'm glad!\" I clap my hooves and gesture back at the warehouse I left behind. \"I gotta get back to work. When I see you at home, you can tell me all about it.\"\n\n\"Mhm. What's in the bag?\"\n\n\"Oh.\" I look down at my clutched cargo, nonchalant. \"Just my lunch.\"\n\n\"Ah.\"\n\nI'd pat her on the back, but I feel like I already pushed it touching her shoulder, so I just give her a really stupid fucking thumbs up like I'm the lamest person on the planet and hurry back.\n\nCan't keep the boss waiting. He'd write me up again, I'm sure. I reflexively make the Tommy face to myself as I'm walking and start to crack up, even with no one else around.\n\n \n\nThe sun's up over the horizon by the time I'm off work, glaring against the thin clouds of a pale sky. The walk home is much less energetic alone, and the mammals I pass are wearier, quieter. Well. I feel that.\n\nI round the corner onto my street and a minute later I'm finally back in the familiar lobby. Charlie's there, sitting alone on the sofa, looking pleasantly relaxed and watching some kind of bug-catching show. Unsurprisingly.\n\n\"Morning, Charlie. How'd the Bug Out go?\"\n\n\"I quit,\" she answers. \"I've been here since we spoke.\"\n\n\"What?!\" I nearly trip over myself stumbling to the couch, looking around for any trace of her bug catching equipment. \"Why would you quit?\"\n\nThe fox shrugs.\n\n\"But--\" I circle around to the front of the couch, eyeing her. \"But I mean, we had that talk, you said it helped--\"\n\n\"Oh, it did,\" she nods absently, returning her attention to the tv. \"Your message about how the satisfaction and enjoyment of an engaging present mattered more than the perceived or hopeful outcome of a high-level performance in the future. Better to have fun than win, what matters is how you feel doing it, et cetera.\"\n\n\"Right, so why quit??\"\n\n\"That's exactly why. I wasn't having fun; I only wanted to win. When winning was no longer a believable outcome, I no longer had any pretenses to hide the fact that I did not enjoy the act.\"\n\nI slump my shoulders. \"But... you seemed so excited. You were going on and on.\"\n\n\"Competitive bugsport is a rather fascinating pastime. I allowed my excitement to lead me into a bit of a fixation,\" she explains. \"And I fixated on the idea more than the reality.\"\n\nShe reaches into a small bag of chips at her side, popping one into her mouth.\n\n\"And the reality is I don't like catching bugs very much. I much prefer when others do it.\"\n\nI scratch my chin, considering it.\n\n\"You're not upset?\"\n\n\"That I will be able to procure only a partial refund on my equipment and accessories, perhaps. However, I have attained a better understanding of myself and my goals. Therefore I consider myself fulfilled.\"\n\n\"But... my advice [i]did[/i] help?\"\n\n\"Yes. Thank you, Cormo.\"\n\n\"Well!\" my smile returns and I dust my hooves off, turning to the stairs. \"All's well that ends well, then. Glad I could help. Enjoy your show, Charlie.\"\n\n\"Your shirt is inside-out,\" she calls after me. \"It's been inside-out all morning, I forgot to mention during the walk.\"\n\n\"Wwwwhoops!\" I call back musically, beaming.\n\nI can't shake the smile as I head upstairs, back to my room. Laundry's done, work's done. Feels good. And I still have some stir fry left over for dinner. Starting to feel like I've got my life more together than I thought.\n\nI check my phone. Still one unread message.\n\nFrom my sister.\n\nYeah, stir fry sounds good right now. Maybe some green beans on the side.\n\nMy shoulder hurts a little. But otherwise, everything's gone pretty great today.\n\nLove of the game.[/section]\n[section=Notes]I would like to thank everyone who has waited so patiently for this story, always with kind and understanding support.\n\nA lot has happened to me in the interim. I don't wish to make it anyone else's problem, but things have been hard for me, and for a long time, I didn't know if I was going to ever feel like I could continue this story. Even when I eventually did feel that way, I had lost my ghost co-writer, so I wasn't sure I could even continue if I wanted to, from a practical standpoint.\n\nIf this chapter feels different, it's not just the rust of four years. It's the absence of two people integral to this story.\n\nNevertheless, I've done my best. I hope the story still stands well enough.\n\nI also want to let readers know in advance that I'm returning to Pack Street with the intention to move towards an ending sooner rather than later. There won't be another 35 chapters, and it won't continue into perpetuity. I don't know how many more chapters there will be, but I intend to give Remmy's story the closure it deserves.\n\nThank you for staying with me.[/section]",
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{
  "comments": [
    {
      "body": "I'm glad you are continuing \n\nI hope that , even if the story series itself ends , they will still appear in your art\n\nI love all the characters ",
      "created_at": "2026-03-04T15:48:59.766-05:00",
      "creator_id": 408934,
      "creator_name": "sheilacow",
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      "post_id": 6211204,
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      "updated_at": "2026-03-04T15:48:59.766-05:00",
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      "body": "Glad this is here too now. I think we were all [b]very[/b] surprised when some of us got the email about the update, although I suspected it was coming when I saw that little comic he posted with Avo and Remmy doing a movie. \n\nI suspect he plans on finishing the story and that's just fine with me, although I'd be really interested on what parts of Zoo 2 he's going to incorporate. We'll just have to find out I guess.",
      "created_at": "2026-02-25T03:29:43.994-05:00",
      "creator_id": 1803372,
      "creator_name": "John_Baker5217",
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    },
    {
      "body": "As if Remmy didn't have enough waifus, now one is chasing him. (Charlie is still my favorite)  It seems like all the characters moods have been boosted without the cloud of the bellwether plot over their lives.  And Remmy has also gotten a lot more socially intelligent.  He doesn't bat an eye near as much as he used to around predators. (Hope Jazzy gets some fanart)",
      "created_at": "2026-02-24T02:59:06.447-05:00",
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    {
      "body": "Things like this make it worht cancer didn't get me.",
      "created_at": "2026-02-22T22:18:03.848-05:00",
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      "body": "Damn, and I almost thought my device was just being all wonky when I got the AO3 email for it. I'm very sad to hear what happened to Weaver and the others, but if there's going to be some continuation and conclusion to the story then I'll take it.\n\nAlso Jazz is cute, ngl. The mental image of her chasing Remmy around and being all motherly towards him like he's one of her cubs brings a smile to my face. For such a small 19 year old guy, he sure has been through a lot...",
      "created_at": "2026-02-22T18:33:38.910-05:00",
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    {
      "body": "DON'T CALL IT A COMEBACK",
      "created_at": "2026-02-22T17:02:12.620-05:00",
      "creator_id": 690586,
      "creator_name": "Str8aura",
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      "body": "We'll definitely need some fan-art of Avo and Anne in the laundry room 0w0",
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    {
      "body": "Oh glorious day!",
      "created_at": "2026-02-22T08:17:36.184-05:00",
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      "creator_name": "Cowardly_Katz",
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    {
      "body": "Well shit guess im not sleeping yet",
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    {
      "body": "Return of the Mack (1996)",
      "created_at": "2026-02-22T02:06:01.516-05:00",
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{
  "description": "[i]\"As the weather gets colder, Remmy adapts to his new nightly routine.\"[/i]\n\n[section=Story]A sharply bending chord from The Ramboy Dukes jolts me from sleep. I twist weirdly in bed to slap my phone and shut it off, but a sharp pain in my shoulder makes me immediately regret it. Grumbling, I roll to a sitting position, squint against the blinding glare of my phone, and try to shake off the cobwebs of a strange dream about showering with my shirt on.\n\nOne unread message.\n\nI'm on my feet in a minute. Two. Clock says 8:02. My crumpled headwool sways with each step and my hooves finally stumble to the window of my darkened room.\n\nThe downtown lights stretch on to the horizon. Silhouettes of skyscrapers stitch a ghostly skyline, fanning out glowing streaks of red bumper lights along every major artery, pumping from Peak Street all the way down to Pack and beyond. Most of the city is winding down and getting ready to sleep.\n\nBut the neighborhood around me is loud, alive.\n\nMammals up late, nocturnal by nature or otherwise, lope and shamble across the cracked sidewalks. A bat-eared fox in a puffy throwback vest catcalls a pair of passing dingos who carry long-handled nets and plastic boxes. A small group of painted dogs yip and chatter around the stoop of the building across from me, each one with the gleaming orange embers of a lit cigarette. A floor below, on the steps of my building, the Crowns, a mongoose basks quietly, watching the sky.\n\nI smirk to myself, crack the window, and lean out.\n\n\"Hey, Keith! How you been, man?\"\n\nThe mongoose looks around slowly, sleepily, before turning up to spot me. He nods at me with a broad smile and mouths something, but if he's saying anything, I can't hear him.\n\nThen he goes back to watching the sky.\n\nI've come to like the night. As a ram, I'm diurnal by nature, so adapting to an almost completely reversed timetable wasn't super easy, but I got the hang of it quick enough. And one thing I've learned is Pack Street is always quietest in the midday. Plenty of nocturnal mammals around here, like I said, but even more that are [i]crepuscular[/i]. I learned that word a while ago. It means they're most active in the times between day and night. Morning, evening, times like around now. Catch the crepuscular mammals, plus the best overlap for diurnals who aren't ready for bed yet and nocturnals up early, or who stayed up all... day? \"Stayed up all day\" sounds dumb, but what else are you gonna call it?\n\nAnyway. That's when this street is the busiest.\n\nThat's when all the [i]parties[/i] happen.\n\nI check my phone. 8:15. Gotta get this show on the road. I toddle off to the bathroom, to wash my face in the mirror.\n\nA splash of cold water. I'd say it helps wake me up but I'm plenty awake by now. Feeling fine, actually. I yawn, stretch, scratch my snout. Trace the line where I know the scar was, even though I can't see it.\n\nDo you know how much it sucks that the scar didn't even [i]last?[/i] I could've had a super cool fucking [i]face scar.[/i] The prettyboy kind, too, the kind that doesn't leave you even a little disfigured or anything, just gets all the girls thinking you're cool and dangerous. Could've at least left me a white line or something distinct I could talk about at parties. But the damn thing was totally gone in just a couple months. Sucks. It's like I basically got jumped for nothing.\n\nI start for the shower, but catch myself. Might as well start my laundry now, have it going while I wait. I click on the main lights in my apartment, finally. Then, throwing in a few last-minute articles, I heft my old plastic hamper full of dirty clothes and haul myself to the door.\n\nDown the broad stairs. I figure this apartment's rated for mammals a few sizes bigger than me, and paws aren't as compact as hooves to begin with, so they need the extra space. When I first moved in, I hated how long each step was. Now I'm glad to have it, especially when I can barely see over my laundry to the next step.\n\nChatter in the lobby. This time of night, it's not unusual. Charlie sits hunched forward in an old wood chair, talking rather more animatedly than I'm used to seeing her. Her big fluffy fox tail swishes and she even gestures, drawing little diagrams in the air and making precise motions. Ozzy's lounging on the even older sofa, wearing the sort of toothy grin I've come to expect out of most hyenas, and returning her enthusiasm with plenty of his own. I give them a wave, but only Charlie sees me, and she manages just a faint nod before returning to her conversation.\n\nI swing down the hall out of the lobby, past Ozzy's apartment door, and finally down the cold concrete stairs. Everything down here's concrete. There's not so much as a dangling bare lightbulb in the narrow basement hall. But the room up ahead, off to the side, always has a dim yellow glow spilling out. A cozy little hot-denim-scented beacon in the dark. A growing hum and loud conversation I can't quite discern lets me know it's occupied.\n\nI hustle into the room (because the laundry's heavy, not because I'm scared of the dark) and heave my basket onto the flaking laminate countertop.\n\n\"Look who's here.\"\n\n\"Hey, Anneke.\"\n\nI shove my laundry aside to greet the lithe, half-dressed aardwolf lounging on one of the dryers that line the far wall. She's got a loose tank top and a pair of gray leggings on. I'm not sure I've ever seen her in leggings. They make her lower half look super skinny, pulling all the puffy fur around her legs tight to the skin and outlining the slender curves underneath.\n\nIt's a good look. Like, a really good look. It also makes all the fur around her hips bunch up and fluff way out, like she's wearing someone else's lower half. I guess if she shaved, she'd look like this all over. You know, mammals say shaving is weird, but nobody thinks twice when I shear. I dunno. I think she'd look pretty cute all sheared down. It's like... another layer of naked.\n\nShe leans forward, elbows on her knees, idly kicking her feet over the edge of the rattling machine. And only now do I notice a dark-furred jackal standing motionless against the wall to my left. I meet her gaze, but I can't help but notice she's even [i]less[/i] dressed, wearing only a surprisingly plain white bra and panties. I'd never have imagined Avo even owned such unadorned undies. And that creamy mocha-colored underbelly of hers running from her neck to her--\n\nI looked. She saw me look.\n\n\"Damn,\" I sigh, running a hoof through my headwool and openly glancing between the two of them. \"I must still be dreaming.\"\n\n\"Shut the fuck up,\" Avo rolls her eyes.\n\nAnna giggles. \"Nice jammies.\"\n\nI take the opportunity to look her up and down a second time. \"You too, girl,\" I smile as smoothly as I can, which probably isn't very.\n\nShe responds with a sort of low purr or growl, batting her paw at me in the air, and Avo shakes her head. I slide my laundry basket to one of the empty machines and start loading it.\n\n\"Hope I wasn't interrupting anything.\"\n\nThe dryer Anna's sitting on suddenly kicks onto high cycle and her speech becomes juddery. \"HeY, iT's bEeN cOlD, rIgHt?\"\n\n\"I heard we're gonna get a really sharp winter this year,\" I agree, loading clothes and grabbing the detergent from the bottom of my basket. \"Gonna be my first winter here, actually. Does it get bad?\"\n\n\"Well,\" Avo begins to say something, then pats her hips with both palms, peering down for a second at herself. She shakes her head, then re-crosses her arms.\n\nAnna smirks but I guess I'm missing something.\n\n\"Well,\" she starts again, \"We're almost right up against the R-S weather wall. So things can get pretty extreme in peak seasons.\"\n\n\"Y'know, I've never actually gone past the wall here,\" I remark. \"There not a lot of travel, or is it just me?\"\n\nShe makes a noncommittal shrug. \"I take a stroll to Shady every now and then. You could walk to Marsh from here, too, which you'll basically have to if you want to catch any of the other main lines.\"\n\nI fish some coins out of my pocket and load 'em up. \"Yeah, I saw that. I mostly just took it to get to work, when I was working way out in Tundra. I can't believe how few connections the lines have. Just looking at the subway map makes me think I'm losing my mind.\"\n\n[b]\"Yeah,\"[/b] she almost barks back. \"The actual service is great but the lines are a fucking joke.\"\n\nEvidently bored by the ongoing discussion, Anna stretches, first with paws down towards the ground, looking like she'll topple forward off the dryer, then all the way up, high in the air. Her long, bare, fuzzy midriff peeks inch by inch from under her top and it takes all my willpower to look away before she notices.\n\nAvo is staring at me with one raised brow and a calm smile.\n\n\"...So uh, is there really no connection at all between the Z and the Inner Loop around here?\"\n\n\"Yeah. It's [i]Marsh[/i].\"\n\nI compose myself as best I'm able and pop my coins in, starting the machine. \"For real? So I can walk ten minutes to Marshlands or--\"\n\n\"Yeah, or take the southbound Inner ALL the way around.\" She's suddenly a lot louder, to be heard over the growing din. \"You want to go [i]anywhere[/i] west from here, you walk or you ride the entire loop the other way first.\"\n\nI leave my detergent bottle in the basket and heft them both onto the now-rattling washing machine. \"Is there no connecting bus?\"\n\n\"Can we shut up about buses and trains? They're for nerds anyway, you're both nerds.\" Anneke hops off the dryer about when her teeth start chattering.\n\nAvo scoffs playfully, jabbing a claw at her. \"Two minutes ago you told me you were up all day playing Erminecraft.\"\n\n\"That's not nerd shit,\" she retorts, unbothered. \"Everyone plays Erminecraft. Anyway, shouldn't being this close to the wall make the weather more mild? At the least we should have hot winters and chill summers. Like, we're standing right next to the AC.\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" I admit. \"When we learned about the walls in school it was in pretty broad strokes.\"\n\nAvo reaches over and retrieves her phone from the nearby countertop. \"Well, they're doing a big thing about 'em this Spring, for the Zootennial. If you really want to learn about 'em.\"\n\n\"Oh yeah, the Zootennial,\" Anna chuckles. \"I didn't get invited but I'm pretty sure Gazelle will be taking me as her plus one.\"\n\n\"My invite's probably in the mail,\" I nod calmly.\n\n\"Oh yeah,\" she agrees. \"For sure.\"\n\nAvo settles against the counter and starts tapping away on her phone, either browsing in a hurry or playing some game. Anna checks her machine, which reads two minutes, and starts to pace around the room, evidently eager to leave and get on with her day. Speaking of which--\n\n\"I'd really love to stay and chat, but I've gotta get ready. Hope you both have a great night.\"\n\nAnna nods. \"Mhm.\"\n\n\"I'll be here a while longer,\" Avo informs me. \"Gimme some quarters and I can throw your laundry into the dryer when it's done. Assuming you trust me to handle your unmentionables, I mean.\"\n\nI pause for a second, and my snout tingles. Normally, I'd say that's kind of a weird thing to offer, and I really don't know how I feel about one of my neighbors going through my laundry like that. I mean, I don't [i]distrust[/i] Avo, but I dunno, laundry feels weirdly personal to me. Am I just being weird?\n\nWell. Whatever. It'll save me time so I should really accept the generosity. I hand her some coins.\n\n\"Just please don't prank me or whatever,\" I ask plainly.\n\n\"What the hell am I going to do? You think I'm gonna dig through your dirty-ass clothes?\"\n\n\"I don't know!\" I shake my head with both hands up, exasperated. \"Just don't be weird about it!\"\n\nAvo narrows her eyes. \"You're the one being weird. I'm just helping you out.\"\n\n\"All right. Fine. Sorry. Just... thank you.\"\n\nI quickly exit the room and pretend not to hear her and Anneke giggling when I head up the stairs. Charlie and Ozzy are still chatting, so I wave again as I pass (they don't notice me, I think) on my way back towards my room.\n\nRemembered my keys this time.\n\nAnyway. Shower next. Water's nice and hot. This always takes forever, which is why I give myself so much time in the morning before I have to leave. I kinda zone out as I scrub up, and before I know it I'm clean as a daisy. Drying off doesn't take that long -- better than it does a lot of longhair mammals, thanks to the magic of wool -- and soon I'm all fluffy and ready to go.\n\nI step back into my room, peer into the closet, and oh look it's empty there's no clothes in the closet.\n\nHm! How about that.\n\nThe next three minutes are a shuffled series of me re-checking the closet, walking a circle around my room, and examining the floor, couch, and bed, in case I forgot something. Like on the fifth try something will just magically be there. After a dozen or so passes, my brain finally accepts the reality that I did not leave myself any clean clothes.\n\nThere's worse places to be stranded naked than my own apartment. Okay. A few ways to deal with this. Let's think rationally. Think positively.\n\nI don't want to throw on the clothes I slept in. Not when I'm all clean.\n\nI also really don't want to just... stroll back down in my towel. I guess it wouldn't be too compromising. I mean, I've been growing my wool out for the winter season, so I even have a bit of built-in modesty. But I'm not convinced everyone else would see it that way.\n\nIf Avo and Anna are still there, they'd laugh themselves silly seeing me looking like this in a common space. Maybe they're not. Maybe I can sneak in and get out unnoticed. But what if someone else is there?? Al would think I'm mentally deficient or something. Marty would call me a freak or a pervert. Ozzy would laugh loud enough to wake up the building. Does Betty use this laundry room? I mean she must, right? But I don't think I've ever bumped into her down here. Maybe her place next door has its own unit.\n\nOkay. I have my phone. I could just call someone to pick up my laundry for me. I know Charlie was down there. Maybe she still is. I have a number for her on my contacts that's only a month old. She might still be using it. And she doesn't seem the type to judge.\n\nI wrap my towel around my waist, stand awkwardly by the door, and start tapping out a text. Something straight to the point. This is one mammal who doesn't like to waste time.\n\nI just hope she'll spare a little for me.\n\n \n\nA very long ten minutes later and there's a knock on my door. I open up to see a tawny fox holding my laundry and standing patiently in the hall. She's wearing what looks like a hiker's backpack, a little big for her, with plastic cages and a long bug net stuck to the outside with those little metal clasper things.\n\n\"Cormo,\" Charlie nods.\n\nGood timing. I've got to leave soon. \"Thanks for this, seriously. I'll owe you--\"\n\nCharlie pushes the door open with the basket. \"Of course. Have you heard about the Bug Out today?\"\n\nI snap flush red and pace after her. \"Charlie, I'm not even dressed!\"\n\n\"Nice,\" she remarks, her narrow eyes not even looking up at me as she deposits the freshly clean haul on my bed. \"It's a seasonal event where you attempt to catch local insects. I'm going to be competing for the first time today.\"\n\n\"That's great, but--\"\n\n\"I have spent the last four days reading up on theory and past winners,\" she sits on my bed as she explains it to me, only to get up a moment later and begin pacing the room. \"Braxton Calhoun won the Rainforest District Bug Out six years running and he has a dedicated podcast detailing the nuances of his strategy. So first off, one thing a lot of people assume is that stealth is inherently the best strategy for catching scorers. Those are insects announced by the head panel as the target insects for the challenge. Specific clades must be delineated as valid, you see. Because if they just took any bugs at all, mammals could hoard them in advance or even breed them and try to turn them in which would make it an ill-gotten victory, naturally, but you also can't have officials and volunteers tracking every single banded participant -- I should mention they make you wear a wristband to show you're participating, like at a club or a bounce house or similar venue -- so since the honor system wouldn't be satisfactory in an unsurveilled ecosystem like this, it's inevitable that certain at-runtime statutes be declared in order to keep fair score. Obviously.\"\n\nI just sorta stand there blinking at her, clutching my towel and feeling very exposed. \"Uh. Oh. Sure, right, makes sense.\"\n\nShe busies herself around my apartment, hardly looking at me but repeatedly peering out the window, walking in and out of the bathroom, or readjusting the laundry basket on my bed. \"Well, as I said, most mammals assume stealth is the winning move. But as Calhoun points out, many insects have a very high F-Tolerance, which is a measurement of their likelihood to flee accounting for proximity, speed, and the relative size of the nearby movement. So despite a preponderance of common expectations, you can get within catching distance of many potential targets with little to no caution given to discretion, so long as you come armed with an adequate understanding of your quarry. It's a very liberating method.\"\n\nI'm not sure I've... [i]ever[/i] seen her this animated. She's illustrating all these concepts with accompanying gestures, and she seems uncharacteristically pressed to sit still for more than a few seconds.\n\n\"Oh,\" I nod blankly, not really knowing what else to do. \"Well, uh, it sounds like you're excited to get started.\"\n\n\"I aim to take the ultimate prize in the local division.\" She paces into my kitchen and absently opens up my cupboard, literally poking her nose inside. \"I've even brought appropriate gear.\"\n\nAh, that explains it. \"Is it a cash prize then?\"\n\nShe closes the cupboard, swishing her impressively fluffy tail behind her. \"No. Cash prizes were abandoned over 20 years ago as one of multiple ramifications of the CNR scandal. A small but materially unimportant trophy is offered, but the real prize is recognition of mastery and expertise.\"\n\nHuh. \"Well, I'm sure you'll do great.\"\n\nShe nods back. \"Thanks. Are you competing? The local sporting goods outlets have been stocking special hoof-grip nets ever since the event took off in 1992. A standard net for a new participant would be satisfactory but if you want a professional grade catch--\"\n\n\"Charlie--\" I step forward, waving a free hoof while keeping my towel up with the other. \"Sorry, no, I probably won't--\"\n\n\"Ah, too bad. When the event begins I have a plan to--\"\n\n\"Sorry, look, I'd love to stay and chat about the Bug Off but I've got to leave in a few minutes. I've got work, y'know? It's kind of a walk and I don't want to be late.\"\n\nCharlie clasps her paws behind her back, rocking on her heels. \"Oh. That's all right, I'll walk with you. There's a park near the warehouse where I can start my route. I'll tell you more on the way.\"\n\n\"...uh.\" I look around the room as if I'll spot something to help me out, but finally I just toss my hooves up and say, \"Sure. Uh, just -- I need to get dressed.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" she nods, sitting back on the bed. \"Now, given the early cold and the delayed start of this year's event, the most likely candidates for the target species would be something from the genus of--\"\n\nI interrupt again. \"Uh, I'd like some privacy while I dress.\"\n\n\"Oh.\" Charlie runs a paw through her slicked-back headfur and flicks her ears as she rises to stand. \"Of course. I'll be outside.\"\n\nI give her a polite, grateful nod and wait for her to step back out into the apartment hall, then start rummaging through my laundry and tossing on the first shirt I find.\n\n\"So yes, not a lot of species can handle an early cold like this.\" I freeze as I hear Charlie's voice come through the door. I think she might actually be standing right up against the jamb. \"But the official committee had delays starting the local division's planning because of budgetary cuts that are going into effect this year. And you'd be surprised how many bugs are out at night, which is why they start in the A.M.\"\n\nI take a breath and get back to throwing my clothes on.\n\nStrange morning.\n\n \n\nSo, one of the cool things about my new job is that it's just down on Hill Street. Walkable, unlike my old gig way out in Tundratown. Makes the morning commute -- or I guess, evening commute -- a lot easier to bear. Walking under the stars like this, with so many mammals passing on the sidewalk, I feel the pulse of the city I live in. Charlie seems to agree, since she's been walking the whole way with me, going on and on about the big bug event today. I didn't even know she cared about bugs, except as a vehicle for sauce. I always thought that was like, a thing for kids. If you told me the city had a thriving competitive-bug-catching scene, I-- well I guess I wouldn't have been that shocked, but it is pretty novel.\n\nAnyway, when we round the corner and the warehouse finally comes into view, past the small grassy park, she's still going on about it.\n\nShe holds her net out at arm's length, straight vertically, even as she plods along beside me. \"Regardless, that's only the legacy scoring system. The new method, which is quite a great deal more standardized, and thus better suited to objective scaling, was developed in 2005, as a direct consequence of outcry by then-champion Jonah Edquist. The judges had been accused of favoritism the previous year, and since the criteria for scoring weren't yet regulated city-wide, it generated a controversy.\"\n\n\"Ah, yeah, I can see why,\" I nod rapidly, trying to find a polite way to finally break out of this lore dump. \"So, hey, look at that! We're here, and I gotta go clock in. Uh, thanks for keeping me company, Charlie. Good luck today.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\" The fox tilts her head, smiling just a tiny bit in a rare show of unguarded emotion, and spins the net deftly in her paws. \"In 31 minutes the announcement will go out to my tracker app, and I'm going to start here and try to gather a few early silvers before moving down my planned route. I will do all I can.\"\n\nI shrug, straightening the paper bag in my hooves to keep the contents from shifting. \"Well, I think with all your prep you'll likely squash the competition.\"\n\n\"Don't say 'squash',\" she corrects, her tail swishing in a broad circle behind her as she pivots toward the park. \"Bad luck.\"\n\nI watch her for a moment, check my phone, then hustle inside.\n\n \n\nThis place always surprises me with how quiet it is, since outside the forklift, we don't have much machinery. My last gig dealt with refrigeration trucks, humming and rolling in and out, and it was so much louder. I didn't even realize how much it bothered me. The place is empty by comparison, just your standard industrial warehouse with big metal girders holding up a cavernous roof, and rows and rows of enormous shelves. Each one's covered in goods, all in individually marked boxes and plastic-wrapped pallets.\n\nI swing around the low interior break room, past the empty \"Employee of the Month\" frame, and pop my bagged lunch in the fridge, which looks like it's older than I am. Then it's off to the check-in station. But as I'm turning the corner out of the isolated little free-standing room, a loud voice breaks the silence and I nearly jump out of my wool.\n\n[b]\"REMMY!\"[/b]\n\nI whirl on my heels to see a huge, shaggy brown hyena hunched forward near the warehouse entrance, flexing her claws. She's wide, built, broad-shouldered. Mane decorated with braids and beads. Her eyes are dark, baggy. But her bared teeth gleam against the overhead lighting.\n\n[b]\"I gotchu now!\"[/b]\n\n\"Fuck.\"\n\nFor a moment, nothing happens. Everything's quiet again, waiting.\n\nI hesitate, glancing at my phone, then before she can make the first move, I spin, racing over the poured concrete flooring as I flee into the stacks, hearing her roar and break into a sprint behind me. I duck past the unsorted piles by Sector A and make a skittering turn down Row 2, my hooves scratching to get enough grip. I pass Jason, a stout wolverine in a bright orange safety vest, who looks up at me with an unbothered expression.\n\n\"Little [b]help?![/b]\" I bleat as I pass him at Mach 5.\n\nHe shrugs, smiling, and I curse under my breath. The sound of clawed paws on warehouse flooring are getting closer.\n\nI juke left, then dive right, hoping to escape my pursuer in the winding shelves, but as soon as I turn the corner I see that someone left the forklift parked diagonally and it's blocking the path. I clumsily whip around to take another route, but it's too late. The hyena's a foot away and barreling at me with the force of a truck. I brace myself, wincing.\n\n[b]\"Gotchu!\"[/b] She hauls me straight off my hooves and into the air, spinning me as all her momentum comes to a stop.\n\n\"Damn, Jazz! Did you put this forklift here?!\"\n\nShe grins at me. \"Naww. Time?\"\n\nI knit my brow, laughing. \"No way, no time, this one doesn't count. You didn't even give me time to get ready! I just put away my lunch!\"\n\n\"It better be somethin' heavy,\" she responds, hefting me up and down a little to test my weight. \"Every damn day you gettin' fluffier 'n' lighter. Y'gonna float away, you don't eat more.\"\n\nJazz sets me down, and I'm about to make a cool comeback when a loud cough gets both of us looking down the row.\n\nMy boss, a black rabbit with a very stern look and a chin that says 'plastic surgery' glares at us, hands on his hips. \"Am I going to have to write you two up again? You can roughhouse on your own time, but not on company property, and not on company time!\"\n\n\"Sorry, Tommy,\" I mutter, unable to muster a serious enough tone for his liking. He scowls further. \"But uh, technically I wasn't even clocked in yet.\"\n\n\"Well [b]clock in,[/b]\" he insists, tucking a clipboard under his arm as he walks off. \"You're already late. I don't have time for your nonsense today.\"\n\nJazz sighs, grumbling something, and just as the mood's about to turn I look up to see this towering hyena making that fucking face at me. That fucking impossible to describe face, with her chin jutted out and her lips puckered up and a very stern, very familiar look in her eyes. And I fuckin' lose it. Any time you want to make someone here crack the fuck up, you just pull out the Tommy face. It works every time. It even works on Raúl. And so far I don't think I've seen anything else make Raúl laugh.\n\nWhen we both stop giggling like idiots, she shoves her paws in her coat pockets. \"'Ey, Aaron loved that Mailwolf book you told me 'bout. Got 'im away from Erminecraft for a while.\"\n\n\"Aw, that's great. I'll see if I can get any other recommendations for the same reading level. I told you my neighbor works at the library, he'll point me in the right direction.\"\n\nShe smiles, and I finally shrug and thumb a hoof towards the entrance.\n\n\"I really should clock in.\"\n\nThe hyena nods, like I said something wise. \"Yeah.\"\n\n \n\n3 AM.\n\nLunch. Didn't have breakfast, so I'm starving.\n\nGot my reheated stir fry and my pomegranate juice, and I shuffle my way out to the back dock. Jason and Raúl are here, just sitting quietly at the edge of the concrete loading bay and staring off at the peaceful night, so I sit with them and do the same, drawing up my spring-loaded chopsticks and digging in.\n\nPretty good. Too much oil. Next time will be even better.\n\n\"Thanks for covering for me with Tommy the other day,\" Raúl mutters while I'm mid bite. \"I got enough strikes.\"\n\n\"Ohb ygheah,\" I swallow before continuing that thought. \"Yeah, no problem. Everything okay?\"\n\n\"Yeah, s'okay now,\" the badger nods quickly. He doesn't go into any further detail, but I don't press either.\n\nJason leans past him and holds out a lit joint in my direction. \"You want a hit?\"\n\nI wave my hoof. \"Oh, nah. Thanks man. I'm feeling pretty good today.\"\n\nHe leans back without another word and takes a long drag, then passes it to Raúl. I dig into my lunch, and we all just kinda sit there in mutual silence, relaxing.\n\nReally a beautiful night.\n\nAs I'm finishing up the last savory bite of pepper and onion, movement in the park catches my eye. I squint into the pre-morning darkness at the shape flitting between the park's standing lights. Something moving around, flashes of tan and white. I think I know what it is, but it shouldn't be.\n\nA firefly drifts past a moment later, lingering in front of my face. Moving as little as possible, I slowly gather up my empty plasticware. Then, in a single move, I clap the bowl and its lid over the bug, neatly capturing the glowing insect.\n\nJason's watching other things but I hear Raúl chuckle a little. Damn, guess I got the spirit of the Bug Out after all. I tuck the whole thing into my brown paper lunchbag. I oughta show Charlie.\n\nSpeaking of. No more delaying the inevitable.\n\nI check my phone, excuse myself, and hop off the loading dock, plodding towards the park.\n\n \n\nThe mysterious shape bolts in front of me, swinging wildly with an uncharacteristically clumsy energy.\n\n\"Charlie?\"\n\n\"Cormo,\" she pants openly, catching her breath. She's hunched forward, one paw bracing herself on her knee, the other gripping that long bug net.\n\n\"I thought you'd have moved to your next spot by now. How's the Bug Out going?\"\n\nShe gestures at the nearby iron bench where her little plastic terraria are laid out. Each one is empty.\n\n\"Terribly,\" she responds, shaking her head. \"Hours on the hunt and I haven't caught a single specimen.\"\n\nHer voice is ragged and not just from exhaustion. I've never heard her so audibly frustrated.\n\n\"I'm really sorry to hear that,\" I tell her, not sure what to say. \"I know this means a lot to you.\"\n\nShe sighs deeply, sitting on the bench. From the backpack leaning against it, she produces a water bottle, taking a long drink. Finally she slams it down on the bench with an angry grunt.\n\n\"I've read every guide I could get my paws on. I really didn't expect so much difficulty.\"\n\nI stand there for a moment in silence. The chirping of nighttime bugs carries quietly through the stillness of the park, and there doesn't appear to be anyone here but us. She stares at the ground, catching her breath, and I just watch her.\n\nI guess I always thought of Charlie as someone who can do anything effortlessly. After all we've been through, she really makes so many things look easy. To see her struggling like this, it's... a strange feeling.\n\nI don't like it.\n\n\"Well, hey, guess no one can be perfect at [i]everything,[/i]\" I joke.\n\nShe looks up at me with a blank expression. That wasn't it.\n\n\"Uh... I dunno. You'll pick it up as you go, I'm sure. Plus, look, you're new at this, right?\" I shrug my puffy shoulders and tap my hooves together, fumbling for something to offer her. \"New skills take time to learn. You can't master it overnight. And, y'know, practice makes perfect.\"\n\nShe continues staring at me, then finally rises to her feet. \"Did you just come here for meaninglessly vacuous soundbites?\"\n\n\"...Huh?\"\n\n\"...I apologize. I'm frustrated. But if you're trying to help, spare me the platitudes.\" The scrawny fox fixes her turtleneck collar and shoves the water bottle into her backpack.\n\nI glance down at myself, then back up at her. \"I just-- thought it'd help.\"\n\nShe shakes her head, hefting the net. \"With all the tribulations you've faced, I would have thought you had a more genuine perspective to offer.\"\n\nI raise my brows, considering for a moment, then shove my hooves into my pockets.\n\n\"No, you're right, Charlie. I'm just repeating stuff people have told me. That if you suck at something long enough, you get good at it. But in my experience, the truth is sometimes you... just don't.\"\n\nShe stares at me, squinting even deeper, and looking almost offended, but I hold up a hoof pre-emptively.\n\n\"Sometimes you're naturally great at something you hate. Sometimes you suck ass at something you love. And the secret nobody ever told me, and I wish they would have, is that it's okay. So, yeah: maybe you suck at catching bugs. Maybe you'll only get better really slowly, and it'll take forever. But it doesn't [b]matter.[/b]\"\n\nShe shakes her head. \"Sure it does.\"\n\n\"For a prize, for first place, sure, maybe. But if you're having fun, who cares? Like... who are you answering to? I lived so much of my life feeling like someone was always looking over my shoulder and judging me, like even if nobody was around I had to always worry that I was doing it wrong, or looking stupid, and I couldn't just enjoy myself the way I wanted to if I was being embarrassing or awkward or cringe or whatever.\"\n\nI put my hoof on her shoulder, which she looks at for a moment.\n\n\"Look, Charlie, just... this bug catching stuff obviously means a lot to you. I've basically never seen you so excited. You were having fun this morning. Just enjoy the process. Y'know? Who cares if you don't win? Or place? Or even catch anything? This, right here, this is what you were so excited about, and you can't let anyone, real or imagined, take that from you. If you're having fun, just do it. Don't let your own self-conscious brain kick you down for having fun because you're not doing it at max efficiency, or you're not succeeding fast enough, or you're making a fool of yourself. If you enjoy doing it, do it. Love of the game, you know?\"\n\nShe stares at me for a long moment, then nods.\n\n\"That really did come from the heart, didn't it?\"\n\nI smile back at her. Damn, did I just pull out some actual fucking wisdom or something? Now I get why everyone's always doing it to my dumb ass. That felt [i]great.[/i]\n\n\"I dunno, I guess.\" I answer as modestly as I can. \"I'm just telling you what I wish someone told me when I got frustrated trying to make it work.\"\n\nShe nods. \"I believe I understand where you're coming from. Thank you, Cormo. Sincerely.\"\n\nMy smile gets wider and I can feel the heat in my face. \"Heh. Uhh, no problem. I'm just... not used to being the one giving life advice. I hope it helped.\"\n\nShe peers slowly around the park, gathering her equipment. \"Reasonably. I know where I need to be now.\"\n\n\"Well... uh, I'm glad!\" I clap my hooves and gesture back at the warehouse I left behind. \"I gotta get back to work. When I see you at home, you can tell me all about it.\"\n\n\"Mhm. What's in the bag?\"\n\n\"Oh.\" I look down at my clutched cargo, nonchalant. \"Just my lunch.\"\n\n\"Ah.\"\n\nI'd pat her on the back, but I feel like I already pushed it touching her shoulder, so I just give her a really stupid fucking thumbs up like I'm the lamest person on the planet and hurry back.\n\nCan't keep the boss waiting. He'd write me up again, I'm sure. I reflexively make the Tommy face to myself as I'm walking and start to crack up, even with no one else around.\n\n \n\nThe sun's up over the horizon by the time I'm off work, glaring against the thin clouds of a pale sky. The walk home is much less energetic alone, and the mammals I pass are wearier, quieter. Well. I feel that.\n\nI round the corner onto my street and a minute later I'm finally back in the familiar lobby. Charlie's there, sitting alone on the sofa, looking pleasantly relaxed and watching some kind of bug-catching show. Unsurprisingly.\n\n\"Morning, Charlie. How'd the Bug Out go?\"\n\n\"I quit,\" she answers. \"I've been here since we spoke.\"\n\n\"What?!\" I nearly trip over myself stumbling to the couch, looking around for any trace of her bug catching equipment. \"Why would you quit?\"\n\nThe fox shrugs.\n\n\"But--\" I circle around to the front of the couch, eyeing her. \"But I mean, we had that talk, you said it helped--\"\n\n\"Oh, it did,\" she nods absently, returning her attention to the tv. \"Your message about how the satisfaction and enjoyment of an engaging present mattered more than the perceived or hopeful outcome of a high-level performance in the future. Better to have fun than win, what matters is how you feel doing it, et cetera.\"\n\n\"Right, so why quit??\"\n\n\"That's exactly why. I wasn't having fun; I only wanted to win. When winning was no longer a believable outcome, I no longer had any pretenses to hide the fact that I did not enjoy the act.\"\n\nI slump my shoulders. \"But... you seemed so excited. You were going on and on.\"\n\n\"Competitive bugsport is a rather fascinating pastime. I allowed my excitement to lead me into a bit of a fixation,\" she explains. \"And I fixated on the idea more than the reality.\"\n\nShe reaches into a small bag of chips at her side, popping one into her mouth.\n\n\"And the reality is I don't like catching bugs very much. I much prefer when others do it.\"\n\nI scratch my chin, considering it.\n\n\"You're not upset?\"\n\n\"That I will be able to procure only a partial refund on my equipment and accessories, perhaps. However, I have attained a better understanding of myself and my goals. Therefore I consider myself fulfilled.\"\n\n\"But... my advice [i]did[/i] help?\"\n\n\"Yes. Thank you, Cormo.\"\n\n\"Well!\" my smile returns and I dust my hooves off, turning to the stairs. \"All's well that ends well, then. Glad I could help. Enjoy your show, Charlie.\"\n\n\"Your shirt is inside-out,\" she calls after me. \"It's been inside-out all morning, I forgot to mention during the walk.\"\n\n\"Wwwwhoops!\" I call back musically, beaming.\n\nI can't shake the smile as I head upstairs, back to my room. Laundry's done, work's done. Feels good. And I still have some stir fry left over for dinner. Starting to feel like I've got my life more together than I thought.\n\nI check my phone. Still one unread message.\n\nFrom my sister.\n\nYeah, stir fry sounds good right now. Maybe some green beans on the side.\n\nMy shoulder hurts a little. But otherwise, everything's gone pretty great today.\n\nLove of the game.[/section]\n[section=Notes]I would like to thank everyone who has waited so patiently for this story, always with kind and understanding support.\n\nA lot has happened to me in the interim. I don't wish to make it anyone else's problem, but things have been hard for me, and for a long time, I didn't know if I was going to ever feel like I could continue this story. Even when I eventually did feel that way, I had lost my ghost co-writer, so I wasn't sure I could even continue if I wanted to, from a practical standpoint.\n\nIf this chapter feels different, it's not just the rust of four years. It's the absence of two people integral to this story.\n\nNevertheless, I've done my best. I hope the story still stands well enough.\n\nI also want to let readers know in advance that I'm returning to Pack Street with the intention to move towards an ending sooner rather than later. There won't be another 35 chapters, and it won't continue into perpetuity. I don't know how many more chapters there will be, but I intend to give Remmy's story the closure it deserves.\n\nThank you for staying with me.[/section]"
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