Fandom We Eat What We Sow

[Ellensouler]

In times of war, in times of strife; in times of blood and in times of famine. The weak will be devoured the strong live fat while those in between are subject to the lottery. Names drawn from a hat, there was no real civility, no real quality of life, when the time came it came and some would gladly die for their country. But not an inept and cold raccoon. He lived each day, a gun in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other while his eyes scanned the bloody sky as it dipped below the horizen, a ritual he would part take in each day waiting for his brother. He would sit atop a small crate, gazing into the darkness that was the abandoned mineshaft, take a sip of his emotions in a bottle, and smile when he heard the padder of his siblings paw-pads. But, quickly he'd retract that smile, his brother had to see that he was strong.

They were the same in every way, well, in their eyes. The only difference was the color of their coats. Shyla was a Longcoat, Ronan a common folk. But they made due.

"You're late..." he glared at the fox with a stern lipped expression, his brother looking down with a frown and away. "I'm kidding you, idiot, come here..." as that was said the fox jumped into his arms and they shared a small moment of laughter, stroking each other's ears and rubbing muzzles with glee. "I got lost again," the fox said as he pulled away. "It's the same route every time....god help the Longcoats.." he sighed and loaded his pistol.

"Well I came prepared this time..." he smiled and turned around, a sniper rifle on his back as he turned his head over his shoulder with a wink.

"Stop being cheeky...let's go."

And like that, they were off in the midst of the night, looking for one of the Civilized. Ronon knew his name was Eli, one of those who was in charge of the lottery in their town. He also knew he was a goat, but the details ended there, but the night, however; was long.

 

[PSi]

Nightfall was the time to signal the arrival of the reaping, the citizens of the town, Commonfolk with men and women, elderly and children alike flocked towards the town square, awaiting to see if their fate was sealed down in a piece of small paper. Shadows loomed across the eerie streets, silent with a whisper echoing across the boarded up shops and buildings as well. Just hearing the name of a loved one blurted out by the Civilized brought one to their knees, tears flowing down their eye sockets; they can't accept the fact it was their last night with a dearly beloved. The lottery was heartless, stealing the chance for someone to build a life of their own, only just to feed a couple of starving mouths.

Murmurs called up to the town square, where a small yet slim ram stood on the middle of a box, white trench coat with specks of yellow on the buttons stretching down to his calves. This outfit contrasted against his jet black fur with frosted tips on the scruff of his neck, snowy complexion with freckles on his cheeks, coupled with a golden stare that reflected the gaze of flames from afar, caused from some chaos earlier.

Eli was about to call up dusk's newest victim to the Lottery.

 

[Ellensouler]

The pair of siblings trotted through the forest over-looking the lottery, they moved as quick as the wind and as silent as it's whisper while Shyla leaped over a log and Ronan slide across the ground with his black leather boots, leaving a streak in the dirt and kicking sediment. They both tumbled down causing a small and quiet avalanche while they slide down a hill and behind a bunch of wooden crates, crates stored with the meat of last months lottery that were salted lightly to maintain freshness. Shyla's nose twitched at the salty and bloody scent, turning his face with disgust while his brother instead, took a deep inhale and savored the smell, he couldn't help but to suck on his tongue and pretend he was eating them.

"We need to come back for one of these Shyla...we haven't eaten in three days..." he tried to justify his actions as Shyla frowned, pulling the hood up over his jacket to hide the fact he didn't quite agree, "Yes..." was all he said as he prepared his sniper rifle, cocking the hammer back and resting the muzzle of the gun on one of the boxes. With Shyla in position, the raccoon's pawed fingers grabbed the edge of the box, his ears perked up and his eyes went large so he could observe the whole scene, he spoke to his brother keeping his eyes on the goat only, "Remember how I taught you, slow breaths, squeeze the trigger never pull, account for corrilais effect..."

"But there's no wind.." he whispered.

"keep a firm grip on th-"

"Brother please..." he whispered and closed one eye.

"You miss and were dead," he butted in again.

"If I don't miss he's dead," he became irritated.

"Just don't miss.." Ronan smirked and quickly gave his brother a kiss on his cheek which caused him to smiled as he squeezed the trigger, Eli's horns and head on full display. His heart wanted to race but he quickly quelled his adrenaline, he alone would finally stop the lottery in his brother's little town.

"They feast on your flesh tonight..." Ronan whispered to himself but directed his words to the goat.

"Stop the lottery! Stop the lottery! I have a message fro-" the young rat child's head convulsed as his skull split open like a hammer to a fragile acorn as he wobbled a few times, his brain still trying to send signals through his body and back to his neurons. With a flow of scarlet in his fur, he laid there and twitched a few times.

Shyla's lip quivered, his finger trembled with his eyes still in the optical scope viewing the dead body of a small child. When he pulled away from the scope his true shock was revealed as he looked at his brother with the start of a few tears, "I didn't, I-I..I killed, Ronan.." he started to lose himself.

"You missed, you fucking missed Shyla!" he grabbed the sniper rifle and shook it so hard the fox shook with it, but Shyla just looked at him with despair, his brother realizing he was distraught, he was not good at calming him down.

"It, it was just one of the Civilized...he won't be missed....j-just fire again!" he yelled as Shyla gripped the gun out of desperation, his paws so shaky and his demeanor ruined as he fired fruitless shots that found not Eli, but a glass bottle, the stage Eli was on and another citizen.

"O-oh god oh God Roanan, f-fuck!"

 

[PSi]

At the moment of drawing a name from the hat, Eli's face became queasy at the sight of blood spilling out of the skull of a fellow townsmember. Eli may be in charge of the lottery, but he never once saw someone get shot at in person, their intestines spilled for display. The noble ram had to hold in his stomach acid for a moment, as it was seen as a sign of weakness to the Civilized. Yet, this didn't stop the ram from spilling his guts onto the floor in a slight display of terror, his fur standing on it's legs once two more shots dispersed the crowd further from the square.

In a scramble to save his own life, the teenager slammed his body through the thin veil of wood that covered the entrance to the hall itself, splinters and glass cutting up his muscles and chest. It was a better outcome than being shot though.

"F-fuck.....I'm never doing that again...!"

His white trenchcoat, which was considered a symbol of the highest class possible, was now stained with the blood of its own people, an outcome that was sure to become reality if the Civilized aren't careful.

 

[Ellensouler]

In the midst the chaos, the royal guard yelled, "Мы под атакой! Защитите лотерею любой ценой! Для КСР!" while a skunk in a gas mask pulled out his luger from his hip, blasting a few molten hot bullets from his barrel into the meat crates were Ronan and Shyla took cover, a trickle of blood flowing from the meat boxes. "Shit! Shyla fix this! Now!" he demanded, but his brother only hid, his back against the wooden surface as he hugged his gun, his eyes still in utter shock, even if he tried he couldn't hear his brother right now, only think of that innocent boy that laid dead now because of his atrocious aim.

"F-for fucks sake Shyla! Give me that god damn thing!" with both paws he gripped the rifle like a vice, ripping it from his arms which caused the boy to fall forward, his more heroic brother peeking out of cover and blowing the gas mask right of off the skunks head, nothing fatal until his next shot landed in the mammals liver, causing a violent scream that rang out so loud Eli was sure to hear it. The scream delighted the raccoon, he wanted that Civilized fuck to be afraid before he died, in a way that would give him closure.

Before he took another shot he noticed the green jacket of the only remaining guard, "The KSR...what the hell are they doing here.." he spoke to himself as he dodged a near bullet to his head, fired by a ferret. "Shyla, remember that grenade we found in the dirt the other day! I could use that right now!" he kept his head down as more splinters flew over his head. "Damn it Shyla wake up!" he hit his brother in the head with the butt of his gun, causing the fox to scramble for the explosive on his vest and hand it over, "Why can't you throw it?? Just throw it!"

"I-I jus-"

"How do the Longcoats survive with you?! Give me that fucking thing!" he yanked it from his brother's paw, using his sharp raccoon teeth he pulled the pin out, hurling it over the box as he felt a searing pain in his nerves that went from his arm to his side, "Ronan! Brother!" he went to grab him but a shard of shrapnel cut his cheek with a clean and hot slice, the explosion itself causing him to jolt as a shower of blood and fur covered them both, he just stood on his knees looking at his bloody palms, "Fuck!" the initial explosion caught him off guard, his brother started to laugh, "BOOM hahahaha-Agh!" he grabbed his burning arm and stood up, seeing a pile of blood, limbs across the ground, the head of the ferret landing near Eli, it's maw a gap as it steamed and reeked of cooking flesh.

Moments later after Ronan's celebration, the only voices in the town square were of Ronan and his brother.

"This is what happens when you fuck up! Look! Look at my arm!"

"I-I had the shot and I took it I! Fuck Ronan..."

"Clean shot though...dead as a doornail, the Civilized deserve it, child or old..." Ronan spat on the body before checking it for money and food.

"Yes, brother," was all Shyla could say, he didn't want to interject anymore, he felt sick as he looked into the eyes of the child that he murdered. He couldn't look at it anymore.

 

[PSi]

The ram's eyes were greeted by a gruesome and unfortunate display of rebellion from whoever it was, whether it be one of the three other factions looking to place their own rule into the town, the dead rat with a bullet hole bored onto the center of his forehead representing that. Blood spilled down onto the street carved out of stone and the people's hard work, more crimson liquid dispersed among the place. Eli was lucky he was spared, but as he held the cadaver in his hands, his throat closed up.



"Why am I still here...? Just...making everyone else suffer to the lottery? No....this can't happen anymore."

These thoughts circled around Eli's conscience for a moment, the gold in his eyes feeling masked from what the Civilized were up to all the time. The teenager had been part of the lottery for years but only recently at the age of 16 he got word of what it was; just open season for the hungry.

For a moment, Eli looked back and caught a glimpse of his soon to be assassins, the sniper rifle on hand making his nerves quake while his lip curled up at the moment's notice, remorse clearly visible on his stare. He didn't want to be a part of this anymore. Not here, not ever.

 

[Ellensouler]

After picking the pocket of the small boy that his brother accidentally murder Ronan took a long inhale, the copper-like scent of the fresh blood was like sucking on a penny on his tongue, a familiar and sweet taste to the raccoon. They needed to finish the mission, but he couldn't help it, he was just so hungry. "You should be proud of your little accident Shyla, the young have leaner meat..." he remarked, dragging his finger through the pool of the young boy's blood, giving it a lick while he sucked his finger clean of the red liquid. The taste was euphoric, he closed his eyes and sighed, opening one eye to look at his brother with a smile. Shyla smiled back, he thought the scene before he was disgusting, but he loved his brother so much.

"Looks tasty..." he wore a fake frown as Ronan smiled, this time with his bloody teeth showing, "Not as good as that goat will taste...speaking of..." he stood up and cleared his throat; he held his bleeding arm from the bullet wound, "You're going to make a good rack of rips for us tonight goat!" he laughed as he slung the rifle over his shoulder and unsheathed his knife. "Find him..." he glared at Shyla who nodded, pulling out a pistol and searching under the center stage.

"He's not in here," he looked over with concern.

"Then look har-" a sickly smile appeared upon his face as he saw a shattered and splintered door to the town-square building. With quiet steps, Ronan used his guile to approach until he was at the frame of the door itself. "I can hear you breathing..." he chuckled as he stepped on some glass that cracked under his leather boot, "And you won't be breathing any longer.." he popped his head in, taking his knife and dragging it over his tongue, cutting it a little as blood trickled down the blade with a smile.

"I found him!" he called to his brother as his smile quickly vanished, "I hope you feel every bullet, every cut and all the teeth that ever feasted on the ones you murdered when I split you open," Ronan grabbed the boy by his bloodied collar, slamming him against the wall and sinking the knife under his rib. "Don't die too quick now," he chuckled as Shyla ran inside. He didn't say a word, the look upon his face said, "I'm sorry" to the goat as he turned away, but he didn't feel right about this.

 

[PSi]

"I....I....I never knew the horrors of the lottery. I only did it to please my dad who was a massive bell end...i-in my arse....fuck...either that or I would've been deep s-s..sixed already...."


Eli's lung got punctured, wheezing air pushing through the mouth of the ram. The supply of oxygen he could handle for the moment was limited, drops of his own blood starting to drown out the air inside, his own lips gaining a crimson mark from the stab wound. The kid tried to pull off the dagger from underneath the last bone lining his bosom, his lack of strength bringing no avail.

In that moment, Eli could see his short lived experience in the world flash before his golden eyes. A small ram lucky enough to be born within the Civilized turned into it's own pawn, under the pretense of getting axed by his own father for food had he not complied with the Lottery's organization. Countless nights of tear jerking, bruises on the side of his skull sustaining multiple punches. He was no fighter. Eli was at best just the Civilized's pushover.

As his trenchcoat got stained up from the wounds, Eli managed to control his breaths by slowly but surely inhaling small pockets of oxygen, not over working his lungs. His gaze caught wind of Shyla, and his eyes showed terror and fear; something the Civilized wouldn't show in person.

"P-please.....h....help me...."

The words silently made their way onto Shyla's vision as the ram mouthed them, tears filling up on his eyes starting to slowly lose consciousness. And within minutes, Eli became knocked out, losing breath of life each second that passed.

 

[Ellensouler]

Shyla's one eye gazed over the whole scene, he winced and closed his eye each time his brother stabbed the smaller male, it sounded like a butcher freshly cutting a cut of beef each time the blade was pulled out of the goat's fragile flesh and stuck back in again. But the fox saw the pain in Eli's eyes, but more importantly the fear and he knew how Ronan loved to instill fear into others. His stomach turned, he didn't want to watch anymore and it would be so easy just to walk away. But something wasn't right as he heard the pained words of the goat. Shyla heard the Civilized beg for mercy from Ronan before, but not like this.

"S-stop..." he muttered, his bother didn't hear a word as he just laughed and looked Eli in his eyes so he could watch the life fade from them.

"I said stop!" the tom-boy yelled from the bottom pits of his lungs, it caused Ronan to actually jump which caused the knife to jitter inside Eli causing more pain.

"What did you just say...?" he turned around, the knife sliding out of the wound and leaving Eli on the floor.

"He's not doing this because he wants too..." the fox said sternly, something Shyla was not accustomed to doing.

"T-that doesn't matter Shyla! God damn it! This is why your parents are dead! Eaten at someone's fucking dinner table! I want you to picture that, picture that right now....those animals eating their flesh..."

"Stop..."

"Ripping off their bones, cutting thier heads off.."

"I said stop brother!" Shyla yelled, pushing him against a wall. "Sometimes I do things for you and I don't want to just because I love you!"

Ronan only glared at him, taking deep and livid breaths. He stepped forward and slapped Shyla, grabbing his jaw and forcing him to look at his brother, "Fine then...you want that useless waste to live it's your responsibility...but if you fail he dies and I eat him and your going to watch how you failed me..." he spat on Shyla's shoe and stormed outside, Shyla shaking off the slap as she fell to her knees and crawled towards the boy.

"I'm sorry, let me see your wound..." she stuck a finger inside his rib, trying to feel how severe the knife wounds were on the lungs.

"It's only punctured a little...control your breathing and...and I'll fingure out something...I just don't know what that is yet..."

 

[PSi]

Eli faded in and out of consciousness, expelling more blood as the seconds passed by, his black fur stained with fatal crimson all over. Even his trenchcoat got blotches or his own body spread all over the white amd yellow cotton tints.

The ram's voice was something less than a whisper, barely audible to Shyla or to anyone for that matter. Eli started to convulse slightly, trembling making it harder to tend to the injury.

"....I did this. There's too many dead people thanks to me and my status quo."

Eli did one more attempt, a pathetic attempt, to pull the dagger out of his body, only moving the blade a few centimeters from his skin before he couldn't grip onto the handle anymore. Maybe he was better off dead.

"Thanks for trying to save me though....must have taken loads of pity to try and keep me alive....I just hope no one else has to suffer soon."

Once more, Eli faded out of consciousness, a steady breath keeping the ram alive but for now. Time was of the essence if he wanted to live; blood was starting to pile up on his chest more and more, and it was seeping excessively into his lungs, limiting the flow of oxygen.

 

[Ellensouler]

With pity in Shyla's soft eyes she listened to his words with care, not knowing if he would die in front of her like so many others had before. The ram seemed to agree with her brother Ronan, that he was wrong even if it wasn't his choice to be in such a position of authority. That no matter what, it was his fault and this was karma and reparations that was the ram's undoing. But Shyla placed her paw on his chest and shook her head, "Death is not your fate today. I may love my brother, but he is a fool..." the fox felt somehow comfortable saying those words to a dying animal, words that if Ronan had heard he would yell at her, even smack her again out of blind indignation. Words that could die with the ram and no one else had to hear but them, she felt ill finding closure in knowing she could speak her heart to an animal that was fleeting.

As he passed out she squatted down, lifting him up with a struggled huff as she felt strain on her legs and back, but years of living with Ronan made her strong and willed. More than most men. Slinging him over her shoulder the tom-boy walked out of the building, blood dripping down over her blue hood and over her shoulder, a trickle of the warm blood flowing down her eye brow and muzzle, but she was determined to save his life.

Ronan was leaning against the bloodied meat boxes from before, one foot behind him as the other kept him standing while he took a long drag off a cigar he found from an officer.

"Poor bastard I blew up had a little treat in his pocket, amazed it survived..." he didn't smile, but glared at his brother as he puffed a thick cloud from his lips. "You're really going to go through with it? I hope he dies on your shoulder..." he flicked the cigar on the ground and bent down, heaving up a large box of meat to carry home. "Come on then..." was all he said as they took off.

As they traveled they spoke, Eli possibly hearing their words through his in-and-out consciousness,

"Are you sure you can handle the walk Shyla? Five more miles..." he laughed.

"Can you handle carrying that box...old man?"

"Hahaha, spoken like a bitch.."

"Whoops! You dropped him! Haha!"

"I-it wasn't my fault! I trip over this stump every time we take this path!"

"And this is why you'll never learn and he will die.."

"Shut up and help me lay him on the counter..."

The two animal brothers made it home. Another animal, another mouth to feed.

"We eat what we sow Shyla..."

"We eat what we sow.."

 

[PSi]

Bruises sprouted up beneath the ram's fur from the earlier fall, his stern horns holding up with a slight scratching due to how much they've developed in his 17 years of existence. Again lying down in prone position with a steady breath against the kitchen countertop, his right ear perked up in curiosity listening to the sibling's motto.

He thought to himself for a moment, unfamiliar with the motto, nor the word "sow" since the Civilized tried to keep their own kind ignorant, both in the intellectual aspect and to the lottery.

"Urgg....fuck..."

The ram's groan reached out to all nooks and crannies of the sibling's lodging, weakly propping himself back on his side moaning in sharp pain from the stab wound, which had started to close up naturally, even though it was prone to infection and/or disease. His eyes presented an exhausted manneurism, despite not partaking any kind of physical toil. It was more akin of a visit from the Grim Reaper, though that might just be the case with all this famine running around.

"What does....we eat what we sow mean...?"

Eli felt a bit dumbfounded and, for a lack of a better word, embarrased he didn't know of such a thing.

 

[Ellensouler]

In the distance a raccoon sat at his desk, he remained taciturn when Eli asked his question. The only sound he could hear was Ronan carving a small bock of wood with his the edge of his honed knife, small peels of wooden flesh falling like winged-tree seeds as they drifted to the ground. A faint glow from a candle on his desk lit up one side of his face, leaving the rest in a darkened haze. After some time he paused, his knife finishing one more fine cut,

"It means we are all farmers. We grow our crops and eat them..." he paused as his sister spoke allowed, sitting on her bed as she hugged her legs with both of her arms,

"But we are also the crops..." she claimed, only lifting her head to look at Eli with one orange eye.

The sentiment between the two animals remained vague, they seemed to fully understand what it meant in this world. As the raccoon finished whittling his sculpture he set it aside and gazed at Eli, "I wouldn't move too much..." he used a nod and a stare to indicate that there was a clear tube inside Eli's lung, draining it of the blood so he wouldn't drown.

"You're lucky I have such a caring and loving sister, or so she would claim. More like weakness..."

"Shut up and finish your sculpture dear brother.." she sighed but would always smile at him.

"Already did," he slide it on the table next to Eli, it was a small statue of a goat. He only smiled at Eli now, not explaining what it meant or why he made it.

"It's a shame, you have a lot of meat on your ribs kid. But since you lived we have rules around here. If you leave and come back, you better not be followed. Never speak of this place and..." he paused and leaned in, "If you hurt my sister in anyway I will finish what I started, do you understand me...?" he put his muzzle so close they were touching.

Shyla only laughed, "Stop scaring him Ronan, as amusing as it might be."

"The only respect you have from me is because you survived, take that with a grain of salt..." he pulled his muzzle away and sat back down, the ominous wind of the cave flowing through.

 

[PSi]

Hooves tapped against the wooden surface with anxiety, impatience and a tad bit of remorse mixed into a cocktail, that being Eli's feelings towards Ronan. The incessant taunting was getting tiresome even by just knowing him only for one sole hour. He wished that he'd just be called up for the lottery today, though he had much warmer feelings for the vulpine Shyla. There was no way he could repay the good deed of saving his life whence it was almost taken by her own blood.



"So this tube keeps me alive .. huh..."

Eli knocked on the transparent lined cylinder, watching the darkened liquid seep out of his ribcage, a river of hurt flowing down the stream to wherever the other end of the tube went. Eli felt emptied out, in all aspects and ranges his emotions and body could handle. Even if it was the case, the ram wanted to gain their trust in any way he could.

"Say...I've had my fair share of food. You don't have to feed me for now....hell, I'd say I even deserve it..."

A chuckle pushed out forcefully from his muzzle, trying to comfort himself from that pitiful remark he just made. Eli grabbed his fleece, the only remainder of his time back at the village Square, and wrapped the entire width of his skull around the cloth, laying himself back down to rest. A flickering light wasn't enough to faze him either; he was just that weary.

For a while, Eli had his own alone time inside the depths of his thoughts, strings and ropes of regret, desire, and plans for the future strung up against his consciousness. "One day, Eli, you'll be dead. So make the most of it; try your best to undo the lottery."

 

[Ellensouler]

Ronan rolled his eyes, the boy was like a child, hell he was a child, it was as though he didn't know anything about survival, food, anything. "Have you been taken care of like a little baby all your life?" the brown raccoon turned around and scoffed, "You hear that Shy? He says we don't even have to feed him right now hahaha!" he slammed his fist on his table in laughter, the way he laughed as like a drunkard as he almost stumbled over his chair.

"WE. ONLY. EAT. MEAT!" he emphasized as he sat back down again. "What's wrong boy, don't like meat? Only eating veggies in your high and mighty society? Well...not here..." he glared at him until Shyla gave her brother a gesture with her muzzle. She got up and walked into a slightly lit room, her paw peeking out to call him with a finger as Ronan sighed, "Now what? And don't you dare move from that table boy..." he made that clear and moved the sheets away, "What is it.."

For a moment there were very faint voices back and forth, not too audible to the goat who's hearing wasn't as good as theirs.

"You have away my secret Ronan..."

"I d-oh, right, I did,"

"Now he knows I'm a girl, only you can call me that..."

"Would you prefer bitch?"

"That isn't fu- no, just please. We must not let him know about us, or who I am pl-"

"Fine, fine, okay, I'm...sorry,"

"I love you dear broth-" her words were cut off as he grabbed her shoulders, pulling her close to kiss her for a short while, not knowing they were slightly visible through the torn sheets.

"Go talk to your little friend, put him to work. I'm going to rest.."

"Of course..." she pulled the sheets away and to the side, looking at the boy with one piercing eye, "Hello..." she said sheepishly, a blush still on her face. She tried to held the fact she had a...intimate relationship with Ronan, she wasn't doing it very well.

 

[PSi]

Eli scoffed at the raccoon's actions, instead desiring a gunshot discharged near his eardrum just so he wouldn't listen to his mad nagging. "Can't even acknowledge I decided to leave Civilized territory...fuck that..." That was the new thought circulating across his mind.

"Oh, hi Shyla....what are you here for..." A pair of hooves ran across the edges of Eli's horn, a train swirling around the tracks at a low speed basically. Eli's lips curled, trying to conceal the fact that he knew. About the kiss. About their relationship. And that Shy was a female. The ram lifted his injured torso up right, avoiding a kick to the lower part of the countertop to not further disturb Ronan, otherwise another dagger might crawl it's way up to his other lung. Eli turned around for a moment, taking a look outside the bleak cave entrance, before focusing his gaze back to the vixen.

With a soft tone he spoke his feelings towards Ronan, a low whisper enough to reach Shyla's eardrums but barely, if any reaching the Raccoon. "I know I don't deserve any sort of salvation/trist or anything. But at the very least, I wish the raccoon would respect me even for a tiny bit, because I could have easily stayed in town, drafting more people to die...." Eli's tone became increasingly louder, the volume reaching new heights as the ram tugged at the tube inside his chest.

"I'm getting tired of his bullshit. Even at age 17, I don't know many things because the Civilized decided to keep us ignorant and misinformed....that's how you silence people." Eli's hands became a gesture, one representing the rest of the factions with the other in the shape of a fist, used to show the rich, one crushing three.

Soon, after the analogy with gestures, Eli laid back down, softly giving out a puff of oxygen out of his muzzle, wrapping his arms behind his neck. Eli, wanting to speak out some more in frustration, instead kept his lips sealed, shaking his head as if he was denying himself the right to speak.