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"...The repressed memories that I had for so long kept secret from even myself began to bubble forth as I addressed the vile feline I used to consider my friend. Every memory of things I should have said but chose not to out of courtesy or kindness or compassion that I had never received myself but still insisted on giving to others flowed from my soul as if the raging river of hatred that raged inside of me had finally come to a boil and could no longer be contained by the skin of my body. I could feel my lips forming the words that had gotten caught in my throat so many times, not daring to go any further for fear of breaking some kind of social faux pas. Truth be told, I..."

And that was how it ended. Well, that wasn't how it ended, but that was the final sentence the book contained. How it actually ended would remain a mystery most likely forever to the brown-furred rodent whose eyes eagerly zipped through line after line in an excited frenzy, almost as if he subconsciously feared that the pages would tear themselves out of their binding and flee from him if he didn't finish the book fast enough. He couldn't help but let out an audible sigh of disappointment when his eyes registered that the bottom half of the page was missing (along with the final 25 pages). Though not completely surprising, given the shape the book was in, it still felt like a 500 pound weight had just been piled on top of the little squirrel's heart. Now he didn't know how it ended, and most likely never would. It was a miracle he was able to find a tattered, beaten up copy of this book in the first place and the chances of him finding another one (let alone another one of better quality) were similar to his odds of becoming a world famous business tycoon. His gaze lowered to his lap as he re-read the last few sentences in his mind, eyes drifting closed as his head filled with thoughts and images of what could have possibly happened next. It was almost physically painful to think he would never really know the ending of Leo D. Galletti's contribution to the field of literature. At least, he thought that was his name; the front cover was faded and peeling, leaving everything after the second 'l' in 'Galletti' up for interpretation as the faded letters jumbled together. Though far from being the first time he had encountered a book with missing pages and vague author names, this one hit particularly hard; this had been the first autobiography Izzy had ever read and he couldn't remember the last time he had been so enthralled by anything. He had been sitting in the same place for hours, his eyes fighting to read each page faster than the last so he could get to the next even quicker. This book utterly fascinated him; the memoir of a predator, a glimpse into what life as a predator species was like. A small peak into what it was like to be capable of contributing something to society and becoming somebody of interest, having bigger concerns and problems than making it to the next day outside of a predator's midsection. A look into what it must be like to not be forced to hide from every single other living thing, for fear that it could finally be the one predator that will end up claiming you as their meal. What it would be like to not spend every night huddled into a ball in an attempt to conserve as much body heat as possible, desperately clutching a tattered old blanket to your body knowing full well it wasn't working but unable to stop doing it out of resignation to the fact that there's nothing else you could do. Again, he had never read an autobiography before, leaving his idea of what a predator's life must be like completely up to his imagination. The idea that there were hundreds of thousands of books out there that spelled out, in great detail, so many different aspects of a predator's life...oh, the squirrel practically shook with excitement! He was absolutely fascinated by it. His view of predators was (surprisingly enough) rather flattering and seemed to be one that most predators shared as well; he thought of predators as a higher form of living than himself. I mean, a prey could be smart or strong or fast or talented or any number of positive adjectives, but predators...they were predators. Hunters. Hunters of his kind. Predators and prey have a rather simple dynamic: one hunts, the other hides. One gets the benefits of civilized society because of it, the other gets to curl up and pray for morning at night. One gets to develop and grow and thrive as a society, the other gets to be tied up and sold in restaurants and grocery stores and private prey dealers. As prey, he did not possess the luxury of being able to be seen. He literally had to hide from everything. All it took, after all, was a single set of peering eyes and his entire life was taken out of his hands. That was the main difference really - predators had control over their lives, prey did not. Even before they're caught, prey are constantly at the beck and call of the predators. Sure, it's pretty obvious that getting caught completely evaporates any speck of control you have over your life, but even before that happens; prey need to hide from predators so they are only able to be around when the predators are not. Thus, by creating large cities and suburbs, the predators force the prey to constantly be in at least some stage of hiding. They can't walk down a street or even take too long moving from one hiding spot to another - a second too long in the light and you'll be spotted. This fact combined with the utilitarian viewpoint most predators had of prey combined to make a prey's life a pretty simple and easily scripted thing: hide 'til you're eaten. The end. A predator's life story could be volumes long and complex enough to be unbelievable. A prey's life, on the other hand, was simple: keep on hiding until you finally become food. It could not possibly be anything more. Nothing in modern predator society would permit a prey like him to ever become something more than what he is; no predator would allow a squirrel of all things to speak his mind or try to change the world. Even if he somehow possessed the courage and forthright to openly speak his mind, who would listen? What predator would find the words of a rodent worth listening to? He could practically hear them: "who cares what he says, how does he taste?".

Thus, Izzy's view of predators fell generally in line with predator's view on predators: they are the 'people' and the prey are the 'food'. They are the citizens, prey are there to fill their bellies. With this point of view in mind, it's easy to see why the squirrel viewed them as a step above him, the 'category' of life that rested far above his own. In our world, we would most likely refer to him as a 'self-loathing prey'. He didn't dislike himself or his species, he just viewed any predator species as 'above' his own. One couldn't blame him as this was not only hammered into him by the predator collective all around him but was also the biggest lesson that prey parents the world over engrained into their children: always treat predators like...well, predators. Submit to them completely and accept them as your superior. The infinitesimally minute chance of escape that existed once caught existed mostly in the way of emotional appeal and simple inconvenience. If the best resistance and struggle you can offer doesn't work, the only possible outs remaining are negotiation (a fancy word for 'begging') or some type of interference from the outside world that results in your freedom by proxy (for example, if a predator catches you and then decides that they aren't hungry enough to justify reducing the number of available prey by 1). In such a case, the fact that you will remain (at least for the moment) uneaten has nothing to do with you and is merely the sum of several other events. Of course, this still does not guarantee your freedom as there is nothing barring the predator from simply keeping you until they are hungry enough. Either way though, no matter what your species or personality or view on predation, once a predator has their designs on you it really just comes down to begging them to spare you from the fate they have in store for you. A predator is a predator after all and prey is prey.

With another heavy sigh, the squirrel closed the book, the familiar dull 'thud' of the impacting paper now heartbreaking. Ordinarily, the sound of a closing book filled him with the fond warmth that accompanies finishing a mental journey. For Izzy, reading was an escape from the terrifying world around him, a chance to shut off his brain and imagine the world as a brighter, friendlier place; a place where he didn't spend his nights shivering in a little squirrel-ball in an attempt to hold on to as much body heat as possible, a place where he didn't jump at every noise in fear that it was a hungry and vicious predator creeping ever closer, a place where his days weren't filled with terrible daydreams and mental images of things that a predator could do to his weak, feeble little frame...*shudder*...or the things they could say to him...just to torture him and watch him squirm... When he read, all of this disappeared and was replaced with a small smile across the squirrel's face. This time, however, there was no smile...just a vague frown and sad eyes. With a heavy heart, he set the book down on the stack next to his bed and pulled the thin covers over his body. He had been so entranced while reading that he didn't even notice how bitterly cold it was. Now, the ever present nip of the chilly air was quick to make itself known. The covers did little to combat the cold, as always, but the placebo-esque benefits of even futile efforts provided at least a little comfort. On cue, he started shivering. Curling up as tightly as he could, he silently wished the cold away. He knew it wouldn't do any good but he knew curling up under the covers wouldn't do any good either and that was already well under way...

He sulked momentarily in left-over grief as his mind wandered back to the question he thought about practically every waking moment: what was it like to be a predator? He thought back to all he had read and mentally analyzed every moment. Was he any closer to the answer? No...not really. The life of a predator species was still something that he just couldn't seem to ever grasp. It was so jarringly different from anything he knew, it was virtually impossible to relate to. He was literally every single opposite of a pred, none of his character traits spelled out anything other than pure prey. His shy, submissive personality and complete and obvious surrender to the will of practically any other living thing certainly made short work of figuring out what side of the pred/prey separation this creature fell on. Just a short list of character traits would inform you that even if he were a predator, he'd be a pretty terrible one. Even among other prey creatures, he stuck out. Prey critters who knew him tended to avoid him out of survival instinct. He was too weak, too timid and scared in the face of any predator, too unable to defend himself. In other words, he was too much of a risk. Early on in his life, other prey would hang around him quite often as a simple logistical advantage - Izzy was weaker and easier to catch therefor allowing those around him to get away while the predator snacked on the squirrel instead. Kind of like the 'you don't need to be faster than the predator, you just need to be faster than your friends' adage - if a predator spotted both Izzy and you, you were keeping your freedom that day. It was typical prey thinking and it worked; always be around someone slower, someone weaker, someone tastier, and you'll get to remain uneaten for another day. Nowadays, however, other prey critters seldom stayed around him for too long. The rules of the hunt had changed and he was far too much of a liability in the thick of it. There was no way the rodent would be able to actually escape from a hungry predator with their designs on him (it was simply a miracle he still was outside of a belly at this point) and so most prey looked at him the way most predators did - it's only a matter of time before he finally fills someone's belly and that's the only possible outcome. Thus, Izzy's life was a fairly lonely one; he had very few people to talk to and share his feelings and fears so most of his fears simply remained locked up inside, growing and developing and festering until there were very few things he felt safe doing.

The rodent stared up at the dilapidated ceiling, inspecting the deep network of cracks that snaked their way across its surface, serving as a constant reminder of his place in life as the plebeian breed of society. What sort of houses do predators live in? What did a predator city look like? What is it like to stand in the center of the tall buildings, lively and bustling streets, and happy creatures all living fulfilling lives without the danger of becoming lunch? Did they know these prey slums were even here? Do they ever question where the bound-up and helpless prey they purchase in stores comes from? Do they ever wonder where those creatures they buy and gobble up had been living and surviving before getting caught? Were all predators the sadistic, terrifying, and ruthless creatures of his nightmares and surely the nightmares of other prey like him? This was what he thought about most of the time. In his submission to his place in the hierarchy of the animal kingdom, he was forced (perhaps, by his own mind) to constantly ponder the 'other side of things', as it were. He could never stop himself from wondering about what the 'real people' of society do and think and feel. Perhaps it simply came as baggage with his capitulation, no one could be sure.

His eyes made their way to one of the many stacks of books he kept beside his bed. As he scanned down the list quickly, the rolodex of memories began to turn in his mind, every title bringing back memories of the emotional journey the text had taken him on. All of them were by predator authors, of course. Even if prey were audacious enough to actually attempt a public display of creative output, name a predator book store that would rush to stock its shelves with the written word of a prey. Needless to say, a limited run would be projected. Because of this, each book contained an element Izzy's mind couldn't grasp - they were all written in a predator's perspective. Perhaps this explained his fascination with predator life - every single thing he had read was written from their perspective, with their ideals and givens. This meant every book contained something Izzy didn't understand or couldn't wrap his head around; at the very core of the book was something Izzy could never experience in his life. Not only that, but many (including the autobiography that he had just dashed his hopes with, unfortunately) all contained obvious overtones of predator superiority or at the very least, prey inferiority. Many contained outright manifestos of support for the utilitarian viewpoint predators in general had of prey. One particular example, the book The Defense of Predation, was simply put a 200 page taunt of predator superiority written with such an acidic mentality it made one wonder if it was just written to perhaps end up in the hands of a prey who would become so depressed after reading it that they would simply pour chocolate sauce on themselves and jump onto a dessert tray. Yes, Izzy had read that book and yes it stole an uncountable number of hours of sleep from the poor little rodent. What it took in sleep it sure made up for in nightmares, though, so it could be said that everything evened out. He couldn't sleep, but he didn't want to sleep either so at least one of his desires was fulfilled. In essence, that's all said books were really - a taunt. They certainly weren't written to convince anyone of their viewpoint as there was pretty much no one left to convince. Even a predator that wasn't purely sadistic and mean to their prey certainly fell in line with the viewpoint that prey existed solely to be food for predators. Aside from a few fringe groups scattered across the country, everyone was pretty much in agreement about that. Thus, it would seem that said books really were simply written to flaunt an air of superiority, to maintain and build upon a preexisting domination. They were written by predators, for predators and were 100% about how great predators are. They were the presiding class and they knew it (and by the looks of it, they enjoyed it as well).

Again, even the autobiography that had enthralled Izzy so much was filled with many passages that had caused the rodent's ears to lower as he read them. Several times, the predator author would relate stories of his experience with prey and his feelings towards prey species in general. Although, they were not quite as harsh as Izzy knew they could be or anywhere near as cruel as certain preds. The squirrel's measuring stick of predator cruelty was now completely calibrated by their similarity to the preds that ran the organizations he had the misfortune of reading about in the advertisement section of a discarded newspaper. Preds in the nearby predator community (the prey slum Izzy lived in was near a very active pred city that he could see if he squinted really hard out the window) had taken it upon themselves to establish groups that would gather frequently or at least once in a while to celebrate the consumption of their favorite species of prey. There was a club for pretty much every prey species that existed; mice, bunnies, rats, everything...and yes, squirrels too of course (much to Izzy's horror). As he read the advertisement for a group that exists solely to celebrate the fact that you are there for the eating, he could practically feel the fresh batch of nightmares forming in his head.

"If you enjoy eating these bushy-tailed little rats as much as we do, we would love to welcome you aboard! We welcome predators of any species (and we especially welcome visitors of the squirrelly variety!) Call 1-800-328-7799 (that's 1-800-EAT-PREY) or log onto www.squirrel-eaters.com to apply for membership."

Izzy spent the next month hiding under his covers and getting frightfully little sleep. He still has nightmares about the S-Squirrel....S-Squirrel E-Eat...

...he could never actually say the name out loud...at least, not all of it...

A predator was scary, a group of predators was utterly terrifying...a group of predators that all list your species as their favorite prey is really just beyond fear, it's something different entirely. The worst recurring nightmare he had was being caught by one of them and being dragged to one of their meetings to be tormented and tortured before ultimately filling one of their bellies. He always woke up right as he landed in the stomach, making him toss his blanket off of his body like it was on fire, momentarily mistaking the sheet for the walls of a predator tummy.

Regardless of this experience, though, his fascination with predators continued and he retained his determination to learn as much as he could about what their lives were like. A byproduct of this search was an increased understanding of the very unflattering view predators possessed of prey, not to mention the many ways predators hunted and tormented and devoured their meals. Even as the sleepless nights and terrifying nightmares continued, Izzy always found himself on the search for more books and information. The obsession consumed the squirrel so completely, it would make a predator jealous. For the time being, he was content to simply lie on his bed and brood over his misfortune as he shivered. It didn't take long for even this to be interrupted, however, as a series of loud noises sounded from the hallway. The sudden attack of sonic waves made the squirrel jump and immediately affix his gaze on the wooden door to his squalid little home. This was not normal - Izzy didn't know exactly how many other prey lived in this building but it certainly wasn't a good idea for any prey species to ever make that much noise; it went against almost every single prey instinct of 'hide and survive'. Of the few prey golden rules, making as little noise as possible was one of the most important; make no noise, cover your tracks - that's how you avoid predators. This sudden onslaught of sound was bad news as it presented two distinct possibilities: either a prey was making that much noise and could doom the entire building or it wasn't a prey...and that only left one thing it could be. His nerves beginning to fray slightly as the possibilities this change of events brings up, Izzy's shivers of cold were accompanied by equally bad shivers of fear as the rodent sunk away from the door, suddenly getting a cold feeling inside of wanting to be hundreds of miles away. Although shivering pretty badly at this point, the squirrel tried to remain as still as possible (again, a prey golden rule - don't make a sound when there might be a predator nearby). The only sound in the apartment for the time being was a soft rustling noise caused by his shaking and quiet, shallow breathing as he waited to see what was going on. He didn't have to wait long to get his answer and it certainly was not the answer he was hoping for.

He couldn't understand all of the words but what he did understand sent bolts of fear through his system as the absolute worst-case-scenario revealed itself as truth. It was definitely a predator...male...he couldn't tell what species but he thought he could detect a hint of canine. Izzy froze in shock for a moment - a predator was in the building. It had never happened before (surprisingly enough) and he was unsure what his options were. If he were outside in some kind of predator territory, his options would consist solely of 'run'. In this situation, though...where could he run to? How could he possibly get away if they were actually in the building with him? What could he do to escape then? Even allowing his mind a few seconds to calculate a prey escape plan resulted in absolutely nothing. The situation 'predator in the room with you' entered into the command prompt of his prey mind equaled 'Abort, Retry, Fail' - there was absolutely nothing there. The answer, therefor, was simple - you're screwed. His mind beginning to fill with fear and hopelessness, he slipped up in the worst way possible and accidentally allowed himself to make a sound - a small whimper of disparity came from his lungs before he had the opportunity to stop it. He instantly cupped his paws to his mouth, as if trying to catch the whimper in the air and force it back in, his eyes widening as the sound waves continued reverberating regardless. Again, it didn't take long for his fears to be confirmed for the second time in just a few minutes. This time, though, he heard the words loud and clear.

"...wait...I think I heard a whimper..."

Just. Freaking. Grand. Another surprise then revealed itself.

"Which door?"

A second voice, definitely different from the first. Oh no...not two...one was bad enough, but...please not two... Izzy's levels of fear and anxiety easily doubled as it became clear that his slip-up had certainly doomed him - the two whatever-they-weres had to have been talking about him and what little doubt existed about the situation was quick to evaporate as the squirrel reeled in regret at his mistake. There was a brief pause, which certainly didn't help the rodent's nerves as he awaited confirmation of what he already knew to be true but couldn't help but cling to a small speck of doubt that it was real. The squirrel jumped as the voice spoke again.

"That one. Wait...*sniff sniff*...you can smell it!"

A few more moments passed in silence as the rodent's breathing quickened.

"Ooh, yeah...it's...it's a rodent of some kind...a squirrel, I think!"

Izzy's heart sank. Even if they hadn't been talking about him the entire time, they certainly were now - he knew there weren't any other squirrels in the building (at least...not anymore...). He tried backing further away from the door that separated him from the predators for the moment and realized that he already was as far as he could go; he was up against the wall. That sinking feeling only intensified at the realization. Since he couldn't run, he was as far away as he could be...and it certainly didn't seem like nearly far enough.

"So, this one then?"

"Yeah, it smells great...I'm starving!"

There was a predacious chuckle in response.

"All right then."

The brief pause after that statement only enhanced the heart-attack inducing shock of the frail, rotting door being kicked in with a burst of kinetic energy, sending tiny particles of wood into the air. Izzy let out a sharp squeal of fear and shock at the sudden auditory and visual assault. Stunned momentarily, he was quick to let out another whimper in response to the sight that awaited him now that the door could no longer serve as a visual barrier between him and the unknown. Any remaining scrap of optimistic doubt blew away faster than the shattered remains of the door when the squirrel's vision focused on the two individuals in the doorway.

They were most definitely predators. Wolves, both of them. They looked nearly identical, save for the fur color; one had white fur, the other grey. Other than that, though, the similarity in features would cause one to believe that they might be twin brothers...if one weren't busy being terrified out of one's mind, that is. Finally confronted with the terrible truth that had been hiding behind the safety of being unseen for so long, the rodent let out a desperate whimper as he sunk further down behind the thin blanket he clung to, his fluffy squirrel tail wrapping around his body as he cowered at the sight of the two predators. His shivering doubled as his situation suddenly seemed a lot worse now that it was out in the open.

"Ooh - it /is/ a squirrel! I told you!"

The two predators simply observed the rodent for a moment, taking in all the information required to make an estimate of the amount of resistance he would put up. They couldn't help but smile at the sight before them. The little rodent was trembling behind the only thing available to shield himself (in this case, his blanket), holding it over most of his trembling body as if he were a child hiding from the boogeyman with a soft, squeaky whimper emanating from his lungs all complimented by a pair of wide, terrified eyes that struggled to take in everything he was seeing. They didn't need to observe him for long to ascertain that not only was the feeble little squirrel entirely too weak to offer much resistance to virtually anything they would care to do to him, he also was completely terrified of them and would most likely do whatever they said anyway, out of a combination of fear of punishment for disobedience and a desire to please them to ensure his safety, however temporary. Easy prey - quite a nice sight to see and always instantly discernible to even the most average of predator. A predator can always tell when a catch is going to be easy and that certainly seemed to be the case this time. The grey one was the first to speak directly to him, his deeper voice filling the squirrel with dread. True, he had already heard their voices, but it was different when they were talking directly to him. Again, it was as if the situation had a cloak over it that was lifted when the predator spoke while looking directly into the squirrel's eyes.

"Hi there, little squirrel!"

A smile was spread across his face as he spoke, whether warm or sinister in intent was unknown as he uttered the unassuming words to the scared little rodent. Izzy could only offer another quiet whimper, wincing as if the words had physically hurt him. The wolf chuckled softly at this response while his partner (who seemed a bit more eager to taunt the squirrel) spoke up and filled in the silence.

"Aww, look how scared he is. Scared of wolves, are we?"

Again, the only answer the terrified little rodent could offer was a soft whine of fear. Another moment of silence followed as the predators stood practically motionless, staring at the prey, before the grey-furred one spoke again, extending his arm to point at the squirrel.

"Who gets this one?"

The white-furred wolf he was addressing was quick to respond.

"I do! I told you, I get first dibs on squirrels!"

"Oh come on, let me have him for his sake. I mean, look at him - you're bound to give him a heart attack with the perverted little mind games you always do."

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, look at him..."

The wolf motioned toward the squirrel again, Izzy wincing at the feeling of being in their line-of-sight.

"...he's so scared and helpless...if you get him, I know you're gonna make him have some sort of mental breakdown or something. I know how you get off on messing with prey's heads...you do that 'big bad wolf' crap all the time..."

"Oh, bullshit - you just want him for yourself 'cause..."

He made sure to look the squirrel directly in the eye as he finished his sentence.

"...you know how delicious he's going to be."

The squirrel whimpered pathetically in response to the wolf's statement. The gray one now looked in his direction too, his eyes scanning over the rodent.

"Well...it is true that he is very tasty-looking, but...that's not the point. I really don't want you to fuck with him like I know you want to."

"Why do you care?"

"I dunno, it's just...he's so scared and pathetic...he is food, but...it just doesn't seem right to do that kinda thing to this one..."

"Why not? You just said he's food. If he's food, then I should be able to do whatever I want to him as long as it makes him better food. Well, fear makes things taste better...thus, scaring him makes him better food. What's wrong with that?"

"Look...can you just go find some other prey to send into delirium and let me have this one? I'm not gonna let him go or anything, I just don't want to put him through whatever messed up things you wanna do with him."

The wolf's gaze travelled back and forth between the other wolf and the rodent as the information turned about in his mind, the look on his face signaling that his head was busy processing. Finally, after a long pause and a heavy sigh, he spoke again.

"...fine. But you own me a squirrel."

The other wolf looked relieved and held his hands up in feigned surrender to his friend's demands.

"Fine, fine; I owe you a squirrel."

The white-furred wolf turned to leave through the wide open doorway, but quickly stopped and poked his head back into the room, his eyes regarding the squirrel's as his paw slid down to his belly and began to rub softly and slowly.

"You have no idea how great you would feel in my belly. You weak little whimpering, submissive prey types are such fun to play with..."

A soft and squeaky whine sounded from the rodent as he sunk back further (or at least tried to; it didn't really work too well being that his back was already straight against the wall) and his eyes widened even further, his shaking worsening. He clung the blanket closer to him as the words reverberated inside his head almost as if the thin, tattered piece of cloth could somehow form some sort of impenetrable barrier between him and the terrifying creatures before him. It was like this wolf was reading from the script of his nightmares, his words and actions torn straight from the dark and brooding scenarios his mind would concoct as the squirrel slept. The grey-furred wolf sighed with annoyance, holding up his arms inquisitively and clearing his throat. Chuckling a little at this, the wolf with his gaze focused on Izzy continued rubbing his belly for a few seconds more while staring into the squirrel's eyes before grinning and resigning to the fact that he wasn't going to be able to torture this one.

"I'm gonna go find some other little snack to have some fun with...I'll meet you in the lobby. When I see you, you'd better have a full belly!"

The grey wolf nodded at his instructions and chuckled at his final remark.

"Oh, don't worry..."

He turned to face the wide-eyed little rodent again.

"...I will."

The white-furred wolf chuckled and turned to leave as the rodent squeaked in fear, sinking back further.

"See ya, Leo. Enjoy him!"

He waited until the echos of the wolf's decrescendo of footsteps ceased completely before inching closer to the trembling squirrel, the rodent countering every movement forward with a backward scoot of his own, whimpering desperately as his predator came ever closer to him. Once he felt he was at a satisfactory distance for the moment, the predator allowed another painfully long chunk of time to go by without saying a single word, each second seeming like an eternity to the poor, terrified squirrel who was left to hover in a space of not knowing what his fate would ultimately be. What was going to happen to him? What was this wolf going to do? Silence only offered an opportunity for his mind to dream up all kinds of horrible possibilities and there was no shortage of things to worry about as all kinds of possible plans and ideas that this wolf might have for him zipped through his head. Finally, though, the smooth sound of the wolf's baritone timbre filled the room, making the rodent jump at the sudden noise and horrible potential for his worst nightmares to come to life as the wolf finally announced what he had planned for the timid little squirrel.

"You know, Squeaky...I don't think you realize how lucky you really are here..."

The shivering little squirrel could only continue to offer his wide-eyed stare in response to the wolf's words as he was forced to remain in the dark in regards to what his fate would ultimately end up being. He couldn't even really beg yet - he didn't know what to beg for! Things were not helped by the fact that the rodent had, in response to being given the nickname 'Squeaky', well...squeaked. The soft, rodenty sound echoing into the wolf's ears and causing a smile to spread across his face and a quiet chuckle to sound from his lungs. He couldn't help it - rodents always acted so stereotypically...rodent-like...when they were caught and scared. It was as if there was some kind of 'What To Do When You're Caught By a Predator' guide-book floating around out there that all the rodents of the world had gotten their hands on. Rodents were just so...rodenty.

"I mean first of all, you have no idea how lucky you are that I just convinced my friend to let me have you. Did you see how he was drooling at the sight of you? How you could almost feel in the air how much he wanted to stuff your little rodent body into his mouth?"

Another frail and pitiful whimper sounded from the squirrel at the wolf's words. The questions couldn't have been more rhetorical; of course the squirrel had noticed that! How could he not? The squirrel had spent his entire life 'noticing' things like that (and then developing complex and recurring nightmares about them). He was a prey after all, and a timid one at that; his whole life had been devoted to the singular fear of being caught and devoured. It was what he thought about constantly, night and day.

"He's a pretty damn sadistic predator. He's the kind of creature that little guys like you must have nightmares about."

The rodent couldn't help but let out another squeak at the wolf correctly guessing exactly what was going through his head. A shiver went down his spine - it was like predators knew everything about you. They knew your reactions, they knew your outs, they knew exactly what you were going to do to try and escape, they knew every single move of yours in advance. That was what truly scared the little squirrel - prey were hive-minded creatures that were preprogrammed by instinct to react to certain things in a certain predetermined way. What was scarier, though, was that predators knew this and not only knew it, but shared the information with their fellow predators to better improve their hunting. During his life-time scavenger hunt for books, Izzy had happened upon hundreds of hunting guides (both for prey in general, and specific prey species) and books on 'hunting theory', the study of predation and hunting as a whole and an art form. The first time he'd found one (very excited at the prospect of an entire book written about squirrels), he rushed back home to read it as he always did when he found a new book. He didn't look for a new book for 2 months after that. The terrifying text had brought attention to something that Izzy had for some reason overlooked all these years - you are predictable and predators know your every move. What really hit hard about the horrible book was that it was so nonchalant, so text-book. It presented all of the ways a squirrel will react to being hunted and consumed and it did so in a manner that suggested that there were absolutely none that they had neglected to mention or didn't know and had left out of the book as such - it simply said 'this is how a squirrel reacts and this is how to counter it'. What was even worse, though, was the fact that...the book was right.

"I mean, he reeeeally gets off on torturing little critters like you. And you really seem like the scared little whimper-y 'oh please don't gobble me up, Mister Big Scary Wolf' kinda prey. Am I right, Squeaky?"

The squirrel eep'd as he sunk further under his blanket-shield, the predator's words not doing much to assuage his fears of predator knowledge beating prey instinct. The wolf's grin only widened as the squirrel answered 'yes' to his question without speaking or even meaning to.

"Exactly. I have the feeling that if he did his usual routine on you, you'd most likely descend completely into delirium...or at the very least, you'd be so broken and defeated that you wouldn't even squirm when he slurped you up...and that's no fun. But that's not even the biggest reason you're quite a lucky little snack."

The squirrel's eyes got nearly impossibly wide as the predator's words bounced around in his head. Things were looking worse and worse with every word the predator spoke and yet another sad squeak emanated from the squirrel's lungs at being called a 'little snack'. There are certain words that just can't help but send shivers down a prey's spine when spoken by a predator and 'snack' has got to be at least number 3 or 4 on that list. That mental notion that to the rodent, a 'snack' was a few acorns or a handful of walnuts and to a predator, a 'snack' was...well...him.

"You might have noticed that my friend and I kinda have a...thing...for squirrels like yourself. Well, we belong to a little organization that gets together every so often to fawn over our love of eating you little tree-rats."

Izzy gasped softly as the wolf's words hit him. They were members of The S-S...S-Squir....S-S-Squirrel E-...? The rodent's current dark and woeful state suddenly seemed to be millions of times worse. He was so terrified of this, he couldn't even say the name and now...now he's...oh, please no...

"...T-T-The...T-The S-S-Squ..."

As hard as he tried, he couldn't get the entire thing out. This certainly wasn't helped by the fact that his voice (silent until now) was not eager to cooperate, making his already weak and shaky voice sound even more feeble and squeaky. The pathetic display, however, was not lost on the wolf who arched an eyebrow at the squirrel's sudden vocalization and tilted his head.

"Yeah, The Squirrel Eaters. You've heard of us?"

A particularly pained whine sounded as the rodent reeled back in fear, as if the wolf's words had an electrical charge that had sent a million volts through his system. That was confirmation - yes, this wolf was a...*gulp*...'s-squirrel eater'... How could this possibly get any worse? The wolf chuckled softly again.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'. Wow...that must be scary for you, to know that we're out there. I wonder how a little prey like you found that out. Anyway...we get together pretty much every month to explore our fascination with our favorite food...you. Man, we spend hours talking about you bushy-tailed little morsels. Your rich, delectable squirrelly flavor...the feeling of that fluffy tail sliding down the throat...the way you fit so well in a predator's belly and how you're just the right size to make us nice and full while still forming a nice lump once you settle down in there...mmmmmm..."

The wolf's eyes had drifted shut at his own description as he let his mind wander to a series of very happy and enjoyable mental images and scenarios and sensations. The squirrel's eyes, on the other hand, couldn't have been wider and more dilated as he trembled and whimpered in fear. You mean this predator /wasn't/ the sadistic one? This was the nicer one he was oh so lucky to have? If that actually were the truth, he wouldn't even dare to wonder what the other wolf would have done with him. Snapping out of his trance of pleasurable thoughts, the wolf's eyes reopened as he cleared his throat.

"Sorry...got carried away there...anyway..."

The wolf shook his head lightly to banish the pleasant daydreams from his head as he continued.

"I happen to be in charge of a very important aspect of said group. You see, because we've gotten such an enormous amount of support from the community and such, we like to reward our members from time to time. One of the ways we do this is by, every other month or so, providing the group with a little bit of entertainment. In short, we catch a little squirrelly like you and have some fun with them. Then, at the end of the meeting, we choose a lucky member that gets to put your species in your proper place. So, everyone leaves happy and one of us leaves with a full belly...it's a very popular event. Which brings me to my point: I'm the one who hunts down the squirrels we use...you see what I'm getting at?"

Izzy didn't react at first, as if the wolf's words were merely bouncing off the squirrel's body without being absorbed. When the words (and more importantly the idea) finally did set in, Izzy's jaw almost dropped in shock. He merely stared, in a trance of shock and horror as his mind flashed through screen-grabs of his nightmares of exactly what the wolf was describing. You mean...this entire time...it was...they actually...he's going to...? The squirrel was completely blown away in shocked terror...it's one thing to say his nightmare is coming true because his nightmare is of being eaten, but...it was as if the script of his darkest and scariest dreams had been handed to this wolf to replicate in real life. All of that was really going to happen to him? He was actually going to have to go through all of the things he had been put through in those nightmares? For a moment, his fear overrode everything, making even squeaking or whimpering impossible; he just stared, wide-eyed. The wolf couldn't help but let out another gentle chuckle at the squirrel's reaction; he had expected as much and it was just kinda funny to see it play out in real life. He almost could have said 'and his eyes will widen...NOW!' and timed it exactly down to the second. The wolf just smiled and folded his arms across his chest, waiting for the rodent to come back down from the plateau of fear created by the sudden unveiling of what certain hell was in store for him. Slowly, the sound of the squirrel's pitiful whimpering returned as the rodent began to digest the information he was receiving. As if suddenly snapping out of it in realization that he had to at least try to convince his captor not to force him to live out his most terrifying and horrid nightmare, the squirrel clasped his paws together in a submissive, pleading position with a squeak as he regarded the wolf with the saddest, widest eyes the little guy could muster. He quickly found his voice, the urgency pushing past his fear and shyness - now that he knew what the wolf had planned, he felt as if he could drag him away at any moment now and wanted to beg for mercy while he had a chance.

"...oh p-p-please, M-Mister Wolf...p-please don't t-take me! Please! I-I...I-I'll do w-whatever you w-want, p-p-please!"

The pitiful beg was topped off with an equally pitiful whimper as tears began to form in Izzy's eyes, making them shine slightly. As the squirrel began to sniffle, the wolf's grin widened as the little guy finally spoke, the emotion-filled words instantly signaling to the perceptive predator that this squirrel was more than just scared of being eaten...he was really frightened. He had heard his fair share of prey beg and plead throughout his life and he knew what 'I don't wanna be eaten' sounded like and while there certainly was plenty of that in the squirrels voice, there was a lot more too. He was really, really scared. With this in mind, the wolf spoke again quickly (ordinarily, he would have let him hang for a while without responding just to make him sweat a bit more, but this squirrel was more terrified than the wolf thought he would be). He still allowed himself to let out another chuckle as he replied, though, the sight of the squirrel begging pathetically scratching an itch in his predator brain.

"It's okay squirrel, that's what I've been saying - you're lucky, because I'm not going to do that to you."

You know, there's really only so much a little squirrel heart can take! This revelation was even more shocking than the first. So, he wasn't going to be forced to live out his nightmare after all? This wolf wasn't going to do that to him? The squirrel tilted his head, his paws still together in a begging posture, tears still threatening to trickle down his face at any moment.

"...y...y-y-you're...n-not...?"

The wolf had to bite his lip to keep himself in the real world and not once again lose himself in his thoughts - in that position, his paws together, his head tilted, his eyes brimming with tears...he looked exactly like one of the advertisements for the club that he had helped print up the previous month. They had taken that picture of the squirrel they had caught that month begging for his freedom and decided that it was such a good shot, they would use it on the ads that got posted all over the city and printed in local papers. The wolf entertained himself with the thought that, by the time the ads were printed, the squirrel in the picture was already curled up inside a predator belly. He quickly shook the thought from his head as he felt those scared little timid eyes peering at him, pleading to know about his fate.

"No, Squeaky...I'm not bringing you with me to the club to be this month's snack."

The squirrel's world suddenly seemed so much brighter and the wolf could practically see the burst of relieved happiness fill his veins by the change of facial expression on the little rodent's features. He wasn't going to The S-S...The...that club the wolves belonged to... He wasn't going to be that month's "entertainment" and snack! The little squirrel was practically over-joyed as realization flowed through every part of his body. He couldn't believe it - he was perfectly set up to experience the absolute worst thing he could possibly imagine and luck actually smiled upon him this time! This sort of thing never happened. The squirrel quickly bowed deeply to the predator, trying hard to show his submission and acceptance of the wolf as a creature much more powerful than himself. He wanted to thank the predator for his mercy and kindness.

"...oh, th-thank you, M-Mister P-Predator! Th-thank you, thank y-you!"

The wolf let out another chuckle at the squirrel's response, his predator ego getting a nice stroking from the sight of the feeble little creature bowing in submission and gratitude. This was the way it should be, after all...the squirrel should be bowing to him - he was a predator and the squirrel was...a squirrel! As his smile widened, a slightly devious look on his face, the wolf kept his arms folded across his chest as his words once again filled the squirrel's ears.

"Well, you're welcome Squeaky...but I'm not sure I'd be thanking me if I were in your position."

The squirrel lifted his head and looked into the wolf's eyes, confused by his words. Maintaining his submissive posture, the squirrel's vocal chords squeaked to life once more.

"...w...w-why n-not...?"

The wolf's smile didn't falter.

"Well...I decided that I'm not taking you back to the club...because you're so plump and scrumptious-looking, I don't want to share you. I want you all to myself."

For the third time that day, Izzy could feel his eyes widen in realization as he was once again presented with the complete opposite of his understanding of the situation being revealed as true. You mean...he was going to be eaten after all? In the shock and joy of being informed that his worst nightmare was not about to be made into reality, he had completely forgotten that the wolf was still a predator, and a squirrel-loving predator at that. Why didn't he see this coming? It was so obvious! He was so busy being distracted by the whole rigamarole with The Squir...The Squirrel Ea-...that club of predators that like squirrels...that he had completely forgotten that he was still in the clutches of a hungry wolf that listed his species as his favorite food. His horror had allowed him to let his guard down and now he was doomed. I mean sure, the prospect of literally living out your worst nightmare down to the tiniest minute detail was certainly the most horrifying thought the squirrel could imagine, but slipping down into this wolf's belly didn't sound too good either! He had incorrectly identified this lose/lose situation as having a possible happy ending for him and now his hopes were dashed even more than before. Immediately, he jumped back to his previous position of 'terrified, timid little prey whose afraid of being eaten' and covered the majority of his body with his blanket again, the desperate child-like measure of hiding under a blanket from what scared him merely steadfastly communicating that this prey was obviously weak and pathetic, an easy meal for any predator worth their salt or not. His trembling returned in full force, the familiar sound of Izzy whimpering filling the air once again as his squirrelly world descended once more into despair.

"...y...y-y-you're g-gonna...e-eat me?"

This earned another chuckle from the predator.

"Of course I am, Squeaky! What did you think I was going to do? I already said I wasn't going to let you go! You're my catch and you're gonna end up in my belly, where my catch belongs!"

The squirrel whimpered at his words as the wolf pat his stomach to emphasize his point, not just because they confirmed his impending consumption, but because he had asked a rather good question and it was one that Izzy didn't have an answer to. What did he think was going to happen? Even if he wasn't going to be dragged away to the wolf's...club...what did he think the wolf was going to do to him? He was right - he had already stated to his friend that he was uninterested in letting the squirrel go. What else was there to do but eat him? The darkness returned to the squirrel's mind as it re-entered the prey setting of 'please don't eat me, please don't eat me'. It was a mode that got switched on pretty easily in the company of a predator and, for Izzy, it was going full force right now.

"...oh, p-please d-don't, M-Mister P-Predator! I...I d-don't w-wanna go in a...w-w-wolf b-belly!"

A desperate whimper once again served as the proverbial cherry on top of the piteous plea. The tears that had all but disappeared in the squirrel's relief and happiness were threatening to return once again as the rodent's ever-changing fate seemed to have finally settled on something terrifying. The wolf began to inch closer, which utterly terrified the little rodent who continued to scoot backwards as before, desperately whimpering and whining as the predator came closer. Regardless of the manner in which the wolf intended to go about consuming the squirrel, him being closer could only be a bad thing. It made certain that his plunge into the wolf's body could occur at any moment, creating the feeling of walking across a thin glass floor perched hundreds of thousands of feet in the air, each step possibly the one that brings down the entire thing and sends you crashing into a surely torturous fate. With the squirrel within arm's reach of the wolf, every movement and word spoken by the little rodent would be cautious and meticulously planned, in fear that anything perceived or inferred as anything but utterly submissive and flattering would lead to...*gulp*...punishment. As the wolf was inching closer, however, something caught his eye and caused him to pause to inspect it. After a few seconds to register that what he was seeing was actually what was there, the wolf reached over to the stack of books next to Izzy's bed, grabbing and lifting up the top book - the autobiography. Inspecting the cover again for a few seconds more, he glanced up at the squirrel with an odd smirk on his face.

"You've read this?"

Slightly confused and still reeling a tad in shock and fright, it took the squirrel a while to figure out that the predator was expecting a response and a few seconds more to actually figure out what the question was. He shook his head 'yes' quickly and shallowly. This caused the wolf's smirk to widen as he turned the cover back towards him and began to flip through the pages as though it were a flip-book and he could see something in the blocks of text whizzing by at a pace too quick to read. As the blurred page numbers grew higher and eventually stopped going by altogether, however, the predator frowned somewhat as if something weren't right. Opening the cover back up (this time starting at the back) and flipping a few pages in, the predator's gut feeling (excuse the pun) was confirmed as he realized that the last couple of pages were missing. He glanced back up at the squirrel, the smirk now replaced with a small frown.

"The last few pages are missing? Aww, that must mean you never got to read the ending."

Again, the squirrel's reply was slowed by confusion - why was he asking about a book while approaching to gobble him up? As fast as he could, though, the squirrel nodded 'yes' again, this time slower and more somber as the sad memories flooded back a little.

"Aww. Do you want to know how it ends?"

Really, what the hell was going on? A literary discussion in the middle of the fur-frizzling fright of becoming wolf chow? His eyes must have subconsciously screamed 'yes', though, as the predator proceeded as if he had said it aloud and the squirrel was actually glad the predator had inferred it that way. Even though he was about to become food and was currently given the space of about 30 seconds to come to terms with the fact that his life, from this day on, was going to be completely devoted 100% to keeping this wolf's belly full and fed and was hereafter going to spend every second of his life (completely against his will) being this wolf's belly-stuffing, simply existing to take up space inside of a predator's body, the pain and sadness the squirrel had experienced when he turned the page to see ripped paper and the inside of the back cover had turned 'finding out the ending to that book' a life's goal. And it was hard to say 'no' to completing a life's goal, about to be gobbled up or not.

"He eventually blew up at her and kinda cussed her out and the argument got pretty intense. They both said things they didn't mean and vowed they would never speak or meet ever again, but eventually they settled their differences and were just as good friends as they always had been. Better, in fact. Relieving all of their anger and tension had made them much closer, their friendship being such that it was able to withstand harsh words and crossing the proverbial line. At the end of the day, their friendship still remained solid no matter what was said."

Izzy simply stared, wide-eyed as the wolf regaled him with the book's ending, the words so incredibly fitting and the knowledge of how the story ended so satisfying to hear. The predator merely returned the squirrel's stare with a content smirk as silence settled over both of them. The wolf could tell the squirrel had enjoyed hearing that and he was glad to have been able to clear up the missing elements of the story. He let a brief pause go by before, just as he was about to speak and break it, his hungry stomach broke it for him by growling loudly in protest that his nose could smell squirrel but his tongue couldn't taste any and his inner-belly-walls couldn't feel any. The squirrel was instantly broken out of his satisfied stupor when the sound hit his ears, his situation suddenly hitting him again like a ton of bricks. That aside, he was still going to become wolf chow!

"Well, sorry Squeaky, but I'm hungry. It's time for dinner."

The squirrel instantly resumed his whimpering, trembling form that the wolf had grown so accustomed to. The predator chuckled as he resumed his advance on the terrified little rodent. His voice emerged behind a wall of squeaks and whimpers.

"...n-n-no, p-please! P-Please don't e-eat me! Pleeeeease!"

The squirrel whimpered like mad as the wolf finally got right next to the him, forcing him to confront the body that he was going inside of. The predator looked down at the squirrel with a wide smile.

"Wow...you have no idea how lucky you are that you're my meal instead of my friend's. I mean, I'm not really that sadistic of a pred and I'm enjoying it. If he heard you begging like that...man, I don't even think I want to know the kind of shit he'd put you through!"

The squirrel just whimpered and started to sniffle again as the tears finally began rolling down his face as his hope for escape almost completely evaporated.

"...p-p-please...*sniffle*..."

"Aww. Poor little squirrelly."

Although his words seemed sympathetic, the slight chuckle as the wolf spoke and the tone of voice that suggested that he was more excited about getting the rodent into his mouth and belly than he was comforting the crying lil' squirrel did little to combat Izzy's fear and destitution. Far worse for his emotional well-being, though, was the wolf proceeding to reach down and grab Izzy's tattered blanket and begin to peel his one and only shield away from his weak and defenseless body. The squirrel whimpered and squeaked desperately as his only remaining comfort was taken away from him. He dared not try to grab it back or hold on to it as it was taken away, terrified that any show of physical rebellion of the wolf's actions could lead to far worse punishment. He was a wolf, after all...he could easily do any number of terrible things to the squirrel's feeble little frame. The predator smirked as the squirrel pitifully reached desperately for his only defense as he took it off the squirrel, rewarded with the sight of the rodent he would be dining on shortly. His mouth watered madly at the sight, belly letting out another growl as the squirrel's whole body was finally revealed, all his for the taking. Tossing the blanket to the ground (which didn't go without a pitiful whimper from Izzy), the wolf once again regarded the squirrel with a pleased smile.

"Aww. Don't worry, Squeaky. It's much warmer in my belly than in this ratty old blanket!"

The rodent was left to whimper and sniffle in sadness as the predator just looked him over for a second, his feast to the eyes soon to be a feast for the taste-buds and belly. The only thing left blocking him (at least partially) from the wolf's view now completely gone, the feeble critter curled up into a little squirrel-ball as he sulked in misery and self-pity. After a few moments of nothing had passed, he slowly lifted his head to meet the eyes of his predator again, his wide and tear-filled eyes looking very pitiful indeed.

"Aww - you have a cute 'please don't eat me' face!"

As he said this, the wolf got down onto the bed with Izzy and leaned in close to him, causing the squirrel to squeak in fear and try to scramble backwards. Failing and hitting the wall instead, the rodent remained practically stationary as the predator took advantage of this and gave a nice lick to the prey's cheek. Izzy whimpered sadly as the predator retracted his tongue and smacked his lips, the wolf's eyelids weakening slightly as the flavor of his prey spread across his taste-buds.

"Mmmmmmmm, you're delicious! Oh...*smack*...so tasty...you're gonna be fantastic!"

The squirrel didn't even have time to react to the wolf's terrifying words (a predator calling you 'delicious', especially after tasting you...that was a whole new breed of scary...) before he suddenly came under attack from the very same tongue yet again, the tasting wolf-tongue sliding up his neck and face (taking a much longer and harder stroke this time) before again retreating back into the wolf's mouth and another moan of gustatory pleasure soon following. The squirrel let out a squeal of fear as he felt the warm wolf tongue run along his fur. He felt a shiver go down his spine at the realization that he was being...*shudder*...tasted, There was only one step after 'tasting' and that was 'eating'. He tried begging his captor yet again but all he got out was "plea..." before his sniffling and shaky breathing forced him to abandon the attempt, which made him sound all the more pitiful to his wolf captor who chuckled as he continued to enjoy the squirrel's taste.

"You might as well stop begging, Squeaky. It's not going to work. I know you don't want to be eaten, that's a given, but you're prey...and that means you're food. It's unfortunate, but that's just the way it is. You can't change your species."

The squirrel's gaze slipped downwards as he whimpered again; that was the predator mantra, it seemed. In every single book that involved a discussion or manifesto or what have you about hunting and eating prey, that was the one thing that kept resurfacing - species defines all and it can't be changed. Whatever you're born as, that's what you are and certain species eat other certain species. That's just the way things are, always have been, and always will be. The maxim made predators out to be so innocent, as if resisting would be rude. What did you want them to do, starve to death? They don't take acorns off of squirrel, after all! It was, perhaps, the most humbling thing to any ego or self-esteem - to realize that you are 'just food'; that you're life and everything you'd like to do with it comes in second behind 'keeping a predator full'. That mantra was almost worse than the predators just straight up saying 'we like to mess with prey for fun'. At least then, sadism would be the driving force behind it and that's a lot easier for a terrified prey mind to understand and rationalize. A predator being nice to you while preparing to gobble you up like you're nothing more than a handful of nuts is what really messes with the mind; a terrible fate from a gentle voice means you have to keep reminding yourself that you're in danger and not to trust anything they say. Suddenly, the rodent went almost completely limp as the grinning wolf reached out and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, lifting him slightly to eye-level with the predator. Izzy felt himself rising in the air, eyes going completely wide as two realizations blasted across Izzy's mind like a very determined preacher with a megaphone. First of all, the wolf had grabbed him and he was closer to the canine's mouth now more than ever - his journey into the predator's body was creeping ever closer. Secondly, as Izzy felt his body being hoisted up above the mattress, the wolf was lifting the little squirrel's frame up as if he was a pillowcase filled with feathers - the difference in strength was front and center as the wolf unintentionally provided supporting evidence for all of the terrible mental images the squirrel had not long ago of all the horrible things the much more powerful wolf could do to the rodent's feeble little body if he really wanted to. Shocked at the sudden development, the squirrel went almost completely still as his wide-eyed stare continued to peer into the wolf's eyes, a silent plea for him to reconsider his dinner plans. The predator's returning gaze, however, showed only the excitement of an incoming meal and the satisfaction of having a scared and whimpering squirrel all to himself. As he seemed to like doing, the wolf allowed a few seconds to pass in silence, just enough time for the rodent to fully comprehend the nightmarish situation he was in and about to experience. After what seemed like an eternity, the wolf licked the lips forming a grin on his face.

"Ready to be food, Squeaky?"

The words broke the squirrel's momentary wide-eyed trance and the rodent's shivers and whimpers returned in full force, with certain consumption mere seconds away now. His horrified mind ignoring the futility that he knew was so well embedded in what he was doing, the squirrel desperately begged his captor for his freedom once again. This felt like his last shot.

"...p-p-please don't e-eat me! P-please! I-I'l do a-a-anything you w-want, p-please! I d-don't want t-to b-be...d...d-d-dinner..."

The shine of a single tear ran down the rodent's face as his disparity reached a climax in the face of such an unavoidable fate. His last grasp for freedom was completely dashed as the wolf's smile only widened as the squirrel pieced together his final desperate plea. The only real hope the rodent had was a complete last minute turn around of the wolf's emotions; the only thing that would grant him his freedom at this point would be the wolf suddenly feeling the exact opposite of every indication he had given of his feelings so far. This nearly impossible-to-accomplish feat didn't seem to be something that could be pulled off by even the most skilled communicators, and especially not tasty-looking prey in the middle of being eaten. Much to Izzy's dismay, finally finishing the sentence and getting all the words out only earned another chuckle from the wolf, whose pleased smile remained as intact as ever before.

"Sorry, Squeaky...but you're a squirrel...and do you know what wolves do to squirrels?"

The wolf waited a moment, as if expecting an answer. Izzy was leagues away from actually providing one, the pain of his hopes being dashed combined with the rather sadistic question (Izzy already knew what he was going to say, so why was he drawing it out so much?) caused him to crumble behind a wall of pitiful noises and trembling once again, his eyes closing in fear as he shook in the predator's grip. After a moment or two of waiting for a response, the wolf pulled Izzy close to him and whispered in his ear.

"...they eat them."

Even though he had already guessed exactly what the wolf was going to say, actually hearing it being uttered by the predator himself in that deep voice sent shivers down the squirrel's spine and caused another whimper to sound as his fate was rubbed in his face. Before too long, though, the voice spoke again.

"It's dinner time, squirrel."

That was the first time the wolf addressed him by his species and not the rather fitting nickname he had given him. The rodent in question didn't have time to register or pontificate this, however, as the wolf quickly opened his maw wide and lifted the squirrel above it, dangling the little bushy-tailed rodent mere inches above the gaping wolf maw silently calling for him. If he were of sound mind and body (that is, not about to be swallowed by a wolf), his terror certainly wouldn't be helped by the fact that the wolf maw almost seemed like it really wanted the squirrel inside of it; something about it looked...eager. The wolf's tongue itself looked as if it was anxious to have the little squirrel inside; it seemed like if it could talk, it would be demanding the wolf hurry up and stuff the little rodent inside! The way it quivered with anticipation, inviting the squirrel to hop on in where he belonged...it almost seemed like it was yet another force urging the squirrel to fulfill his rodenty destiny and become a bulge in a wolf's belly. That made the squirrel outnumbered, 2 to 1. As it was, however, he was lucky to be able to even register what was happening and it took him a few seconds to notice that he was moving downward, the wolf slowly lowering him into his awaiting maw. This sent the squirrel into a flurry of panicked squirms and squeaks as his fate was no longer an abstract concept but a physical maw that he was heading right towards. He was no longer afraid of 'being eaten', he was afraid of the gigantic wolf mouth right in front of him! His desperate struggles for freedom and pitiful rodent-like sounds, however, did nothing to prevent or even slow his descent into the canine. He wrapped his bushy squirrel tail around his body as he got closer and closer to the wolf muzzle, inadvertently and unknowingly making himself that much easier to eat. Now, with his tail out of the way, he would just slide right in.

"...no, no, p-please! P-please! N-no!"

The wolf's eyes broadcasted his happiness as he lowered the squirrel into his mouth, his tongue impatiently waiting to get that first good taste of his prey, that wonderful burst of flavor as the critter finally hit your tongue. He didn't have to wait long. The squirrel let out a sad and desperate squeak of a whimper as he felt himself get plunged into wolf-flesh, his feet being enveloped in warmth that he knew could only be one thing. As the rodent cried out in anguish, the wolf's tongue cried out in pleasure-filled joy as the flavor of the squirrel flowed over it. A soft moan reverberated around the squirrel as the wolf shut his maw, sealing his lips around Izzy's ankles, as he slurped and licked the squirrel's paws. The sensation of the warm muzzle sealing around his lower legs as the wolven tongue rubbed and slurped his paws, coupled with the reverberating moan that let him know the wolf liked what he tasted sent Izzy into a desperate, terror-striken panic. There wasn't a single sign that pointed towards freedom or mercy; there was nothing changing the wolf's mind now.

"..n-no, p-please! P-please don't e-eat me! P-please, M-M-Mister Wolf! I-I-I'm b-begging you, p-please!!"

Even now, as every single sign the squirrel could see pointed towards him being wolf chow, his terror-striken mind demanded that he beg his predator for mercy. There were still enough neurons that believed that if he just submitted to this wolf enough, he could keep his freedom. His words so far, though, seemed to show pretty much no results (aside from some amusement) and certainly didn't seem to deter the wolf from giving his first gulp, pulling the squirrel in up to his knees. The rodent squeaked loudly at suddenly being pulled deeper into the predator, his desperate whimpering serving as an auditory backdrop to the scene as he attempted to squirm his way back out of the wolf maw he was currently trapped inside of. Tears now began to flow freely down the squirrel's face as he wiggled desperately in the wolf's grasp. Occasionally, the rodent would let out a characteristically squirrelly chittering noise as all systems and options he had to escape his fate now crumbled like clapboard in an earthquake. His options, few to begin with, were cut down instantly to zero the second his feet entered the wolf's maw. He was food now, it was just a matter of how much time the wolf decided to spend enjoying the squirrel's wiggling and flavor. The rodent let out another yelp as he felt the wolf tongue (now slurping on a great deal of his body) suddenly flex and push, flipping the squirrel over onto his stomach in the wolf's mouth. Another moan announced that the wolf had also gotten a great deal of flavor off the squirrel as a lovely byproduct of this maneuver. Perhaps caught up in the delightful burst of his prey's flavor, the predator subconsciously took another smooth gulp (a little larger this time), sucking the squirrel in up to the middle of his stomach. For some reason, being no longer able to see the wolf's face suddenly made the situation seem a lot more desperate, the rodent feeling like he was in even less control of the situation now more than ever. Even though his begging wasn't working, it would certainly work better if the squirrel could look into the wolf's eyes, now impossible thanks to the angle at which the predator held his catch. Now, it was even easier for the wolf to simply ignore his meal's pleading and gobble him down like the tasty little squirrelly snack he was. It seemed like every single step, no matter how small or simple, made things millions of times worse for the frightened little rodent. The exact opposite was true for the wolf, however, as he moaned and murred at the delectable, yummy taste of squirrel that soaked into his tongue. There's something about eating your favorite food that just fills you with a particular type of gustatory satisfaction that nothing else can. You feel like you are actually eating, not just filling your fuel tank. You feel like you're experiencing the pleasure that such a simple satisfaction of one's needs can offer, not just keeping yourself alive for one more day. It is a truly pleasurable experience indeed and one the wolf currently reveled in as the squirrel squirmed in his grasp.

"...n-nooo...p-p-pleeeeease..."

The wolf tongue slurped and licked over the squirrel's soft belly, taking his time and enjoying his favorite part of the meal. It was so warm and soft and flavorful...he could just lick for hours. While not possessing the will-power to actually do so for that long, he still spent a great deal of time lapping at the squirrel's little tummy, 'mmmmm'ing all the while at the taste and sensation of having that yummy squirrel belly on his tongue. It was a great analogy for the squirrel/wolf relationship in nature - a squirrel's belly goes inside of a wolf's belly. It was almost some new kind of irony. The predator took another rolling gulp, this time pulling the rodent in up to his shoulders. The squirrel let out a particularly sad wail of a whimper as he was slurped backwards, feeling utterly helpless as he was sucked deeper into a fate he couldn't even see anymore. He could certainly feel it, though, as the warmth enveloped his body and the wolf tongue quickly went to work, slurping at and licking this new squirrel flesh, desperate not to miss even a single inch of the tasty treat. Every part of him was to be suckled on and enjoyed. Izzy tried to form words to beg again but his fear and shaky breathing caused by his tears made his words to come out as merely a tearful mumble, a desperate muttering of syllables from the vocal chords of a very scared and defeated creature. Being more than halfway down a wolf's gullet will do that kind of thing to you. Here, the wolf paused again as his tongue explored the new squirrel meat, allowing Izzy to completely comprehend and agonize over the fact that his legs were now tightly gripped together by the wolf's warm, constrictive throat. And we all know what step comes after the throat. The processing of this information caused the squirrel to squirm weakly in the grasp of the wolf's gullet, merely giving the wolf an inner throat massage (which earned another soft moan from the predator) and rubbing his yummy body on the wolf's tongue, giving him a nice burst of squirrelly flavor which the wolf (and his tongue) greatly appreciated. Soon, though, the desire to have the squirrel curled up inside of him once and for all became too strong and the wolf cut his tasting short and began to slowly slurp the last of the squirrel in, the small bit of Izzy remaining outside getting slowly sucked in to the wolf's muzzle. This was the cause of great panic within the squirrel as he started to disappear from the outside world. He gave one last desperate plea, finding the words quickly in the short amount of time he had left to speak them.

"...no! N-no, please! P-please d-don't e-e-eat me! D-don't slurp m-me in, p-p-please! Please, nooooooompphhhhhhh!!!!'

The squirrel's words were turned into muffled moans as the wolf's lips finally sealed completely around the rodent, totally cutting him off from the outside world, officially making the wolf's body his home. The wolf didn't gulp his treat down just yet, though, as he was content to savor this last bit of his dinner before he sent him down to his belly, where the squirrel belonged. The predator knew this would be the last taste he would get of the lowly little snack before he finally filled his belly and he wanted to make it last. The wolf's eyes drifted shut as he rolled the squirrel around with his tongue, licking and slurping on the succulent rodent's body, moaning as all his hunting and searching for the right prey payed off in a blast of unadulterated flavor and pleasure. He was so happy that he had kept this one for himself. The idea that this rodent could have ended up in someone else's belly in place of his own was such a terrible thought, though luckily something that the wolf would never have to worry about. Less could be said for enjoyment of the squirrel, however, as he desperately thrashed and begged for his release, the poor rodent forced to stew in the wolf's mouth, waiting for a final gulp that could come at any moment while still knowing that there was no way he was getting out of it. What did he matter, though? He was food; he didn't ask the acorns that he ate how he could make the experience any better for them, did he? Of course not; food is food and it's there to be eaten. There is no other reason for it to be around. Squirrels eat acorns because they're food and wolves eat squirrels for the same reason: they're food.

In a state of complete predatory pleasure, the wolf gave one last long slurp before (still reveling in the taste) giving a final powerful *GULP*, the squirrel crying out as he was squeezed down the wolf's throat in a single lump (that lump being all he was to the outside world now) before being deposited in the wolf's cramped belly, forcing the little squirrel to curl up against his will as he filled into the wolf belly wonderfully, a perfect fit.

As the wolf luxuriated in the wonderful sensation of prey filling his midsection, the predator groaned and leaned back, lying on the squirrel's bed as he soaked in the good feelings. The sensation of the meal plopping into his belly made the wolf shiver in predatory delight; it always seemed like the better a meal tasted, the nicer it felt to finally have it sealed up in your tummy and this squirrel was no exception, a wave of pleasure flowing over the wolf's body, starting at and emanating from his full belly. His paws immediately began stroking the lovely lump the squirrel formed in his midsection, the soft rubbing of his full stomach only enticing more pleasure and causing another soft groan from the satisfied wolf. The story was quite different, however, inside of the stomach that was getting all this attention. The emotional state of the creature within (the one making that belly lump in the first place) was quite the opposite of the full and content creature outside, on the squirrel's bed. Terror-striken at finally being in the one place his entire life had been a mission to avoid (a pred's belly, that is), the rodent whimpered and whined pathetically as his tear production increased two-fold, the defeated little squirrel crying in fear and defeat. At long last, he had been eaten and now had an entire lifetime of being mere wolf-chow ahead of him. Every fear in his life could be summed up as one: don't get eaten. Everything else was merely a variation on that theme, his myriad of fears just a restating of that one simple goal. He was afraid of so many other things simply because they might lead to getting eaten; it was what had guided every single movement and decision the squirrel had made. Well, until now. Now, he had no decisions to make, he was food. He used to be Izzy, now he was simply wolf food. He used to be a living, thinking individual who possessed thoughts and opinions and aspirations, but now...he was simply a lump in a wolf's belly and would remain that way for the rest of his life. It was his purpose, after all - what did the wolf have to gain or prove from letting him out? It was like buying food just to let it rot out on the counter. Food goes in the belly and once it's in there, it has no reason to come out so it stays there.

Completely awash in terror and more scared than he had ever been in his entire life, the squirrel squirmed frantically in the wolf's gut. It was a completely subconscious reaction and it felt like the only thing he could do. Sad, defeated squeaks and weeping emanated from the wolf's tummy as the creature trapped inside thrashed and squirmed frantically. Needless to say, this was just yet another twist of the volume knob on the wolf's pleasure. The movements of his prey within caused him to moan softly and rub harder, curling up a bit on the rodent's bed as he relished in the pleasure the little squirrel gave him by being within his belly. As the squeaky creature wiggled about in the tight confines of the wolf tummy, giving the predator quite the inner belly massage, the squirrel would be able to feel a gentle moan reverberating all around him.

"Mmmmmmmmm...that was delicious!"

The wolf licked his lips, savoring the remnants of the squirrel's flavor that still clung to them, moaning as the taste brought back wonderful memories of rolling the squirrel around on his tongue earlier.

"Mmmm...so yummy...mmm, that delectable squirrelly flavor...I never get tired of that taste. It's kind of unfortunate I was so hungry...mmm...I could have just tasted you for hours...!"

The wolf rubbed his belly faster at the thought, the pleasant image of the squirrel getting slurped into his maw flashing through the wolf's mind as he smacked his lips in search of more of the squirrel's taste to aid this fantasy. The wolf wasn't quite done iterating on the squirrel's high quality as a meal, however.

"And don't even get me started on how great you feel in my belly!"

He gave a few pats to his squirrel-filled tummy to emphasize his point before resuming his passionate rubbing.

" Mmmm...I've never felt this satisfied in my life. You're a perfect fit in there, all nice and snug! You were just such a good meal..."

The wolf let out another soft chuckle as he informed his meal of how good he was at his job as wolf food before sighing in satisfaction and just enjoying the wonderful sensations surging through his body at the moment. He was a predator, after all - he had every right to simply savor the sensations of having a squirming squirrel trapped inside of him. Inside, however, still squirming and still terrified, the rodent forced his vocal chords to make sound and begged his captor once again, the futility of the situation only inspiring the desperate plea instead of hampering it.

"...p...p-p...p-p-please...p-please l-let m-m out, M-M-Mister Wolf...p-p-please...I d-don't w-w-wanna be in a...w-w-wolf b-b-belly..."

The plea trailed off into pitiful whimpering and tears, the overwhelmed squirrel completely at a loss as to how to get out of this situation. The reason for that was simple - there was no way out. The only way out was if the wolf wanted it, and he clearly didn't. The squirrel obviously had absolutely no hope of being anything else but a wolf's belly-stuffing at this point, but his mind (still desperate for freedom) wasn't able to accept this. The predator's response was fairly predictable. After another short chuckle (and shiver of pleasure at the sensation of power and domination of having someone beg you to let them out of your belly granted), the wolf gave his tummy another possessive pat, letting the squirrel housed inside know that he belonged to the wolf completely now and he'd better get comfortable because he had no intention of letting his delicious catch go.

"Could you squirm a little bit more, dinner? Yeah, like that - where you push against the belly walls like that...yeah, that's it..."

The squirrel let out another wail-like whimper of defeat at not only the completely rejection (in fact, complete refusal of existence of) his plea, but also at being informed that his final, desperate attempt at escape was actually only pleasuring his predator. His attempts at begging completely resigning to his sobs, the squirrel continued to squirm in the wolf's tight belly, finally nice and settled in his new home and proper place. To the predator, the squirrel had finally fulfilled his purpose and now began his proper life as a lump in a wolf's belly. Finally, the squirrel was no longer walking around uneaten and had at last taken that destined trip down a pred's throat and could now live a proper prey's life of keeping a predator's belly nice and full.

As his prey sobbed and squirmed in his gut, a large smile spread across the predator's face. Full, satisfied, and warm, the wolf rubbed his belly as he drifted off to sleep on the rodent's bed (the rodent's body heat could still be detected on the mattress). He would meet back up with his friend (who would also have a nice, full belly) and share stories of how delicious their prey was (and of course, he would have a great little show-and-tell during the next meeting) later but for now, the predator simply lied back and enjoyed being a predator. He would surely get a lot of jealous looks and envious belly rubs from fellow Squirrel Eaters when he showed up. Teasing that month's squirrel was going to be even more fun now that he carried around with him an example of what was ultimately going to happen to the rodent once they'd had their fun. But, all of that could wait. For now, there was a full belly to attend to...and it felt amazing.

Izzy had so badly wanted to know how the story ended, but instead...he became a part of it.