To understand a culture, it is not enough to just analyze a clipping. Of course, diagnosing an entire population based on a portion of its people or its history would be a fallacy, but it can be said that New York City would serve as a curious specimen of study for anyone interested. When the Great War ended, it was believed that the utopia created in the United States would be an example for the world. A model country where the superiority of beasts over humans would be proven. Since the end of the armed conflict, American borders were closed to any human and those who lived there were expelled as part of the ceasefire. New York City was booming with the influx of immigrants looking for a fresh start, which has caused its population to triple in recent years. A country tainted by the greatest military conflict that has ever occurred in world history, it still rose with the untreated wounds of the past, exposed to the new inevitable trials of a post-war period. As expected, neighborhoods and ghettos, mostly separated by immigrant cultures, gave the city new colors and leadership, as well as new forms of violence and lawlessness.

The current mayor, an ape named César Walker, was in trouble with crime. With the support of the general government, it approved tough measures to combat crime, drug and alcohol trafficking. Yet corruption in a new state like the one that ruled all of North America only saw restrictions as a means to increase its profits and influence. Gangs ruled the neighborhoods, put fear and what we might call "order" into chaos in the new world. Conflicts and deaths were constant in the headlines, present even in the Manhattan neighborhood, where the American elite had its nest.

In the heart of the city, considered the ground zero of the new hope of a whole species, is the University of Columbia, renowned even before the armed conflict as one of the poles of knowledge and scientific training. It has no gates or walls, the academic blocks seem to blend in with commercial buildings and the financial core. In the center, a large garden surrounded a tall, long black stone memorial, like a large blackboard. Engraved on its smooth surface were the names of soldiers who lost their lives in the conflict. Even after years of the ceasefire, people pay their respects to relatives, with flowers and notes left next to the representation of a longing.

The sun was already high in the sky when the drizzle started to improve. Peter crossed the garden, stopped in front of the monolith and lit a cigarette. He felt the toxic smoke fill his lungs, then the sensation of pleasure was present and released through his nostrils with white smoke. He watched a group of students crossing the garden and could not contain the feeling of nostalgia and anguish. He walked to the entrance of one of the academic blocks, up the stairs and past the open door along with a few students no older than him. He knew those corridors full of history and the smell of old wood was delicious for the memory. Professor Kludd was on his feet erasing the blackboard when Peter entered the room. The owl didn't seem to notice the panda's presence, which remained standing near the door without greeting it.

- Free for a coffee professor?

Harry turned to the door and faced the young panda who was watching him with a smile and arms crossed. He dropped the eraser on the table and turning his attention to a pile of books as he replied.

- Did you remember to bring the sugar this time?

With a nonchalant gesture, Peter opened his coat to reveal a small metallic bottle tucked into an inside pocket. The owl smiled at the glint of metal and left the room. They walked through the hallway side by side in silence. They descended the stairs towards the basement of the building where the chemistry laboratories were. The place was cold and silent, few students were seen inside the rooms. One of the frosted-glass doors read in gold letters "Hariwald Kludd - Department of Psychology." The owl unlocked the door revealing a small, windowless room with two armchairs facing each other and a small coffee table. One of the walls was made up of a long bookcase, filled with books. The room smelled of something citrus that Peter found oddly comforting. With the door closed again, Hariwald sat in one of the armchairs while Peter studied the bookcase.

- Can I borrow this one? - said the panda, looking at a dusty copy with curiosity.

- I don't think you came here to borrow books, but you know you can. - The owl watched him carefully, crossing his legs and resting his face in one of his hands.

Peter returned the book to the shelf and sat in the other armchair. He took the bottle out of his coat and took a sip before passing it to the professor, who accepted it but didn't drink it promptly. He looked at the young man with some affection. They were friends, and Hariwald knew how difficult it was for him to return to university, probably something important happened.

- She woke up - whispered the bear, even though they were both in a safe place, he seemed cautious.

The owl lifted the bottle to its mouth and took a long drink. It had been nearly two weeks since the Staten Island incident and still there was no logical explanation for what they saw on the boat. Investigations were made after the rabbit was rescued, but no one found anything unusual. As a man of science, he could only think he was under the influence of some hallucinogen. The survivor himself reported nothing unusual in his interrogation of the boat. Hariwald handed the bottle back and placed a hand on his injured shoulder before facing his friend again.

*** ***

The green grass that emerged with the onset of spring moved gently in the breeze, giving the lawn along Dublin Pond the feel of a vast sea of green. As a tradition at the turn of the season, families took advantage of the first warm day of the year for a picnic. The lake was full of young people who challenged each other in who would have the courage to take the first dip in the still icy waters. Perhaps this was one of the few moments in the city when beasts and humans shared the same space in the sun in harmony. Laughter and the scent of green filled the air with a vibrant sense of hope.

Helen, sitting by the pier, watched as a boy older than her emerged from the cold water in his bathing suit and swimming goggles. His wet blond hair glistened in the sunlight and soon he threw himself exhausted on the grass beside her. He was still panting without taking off his goggles, but then he smiled when she avoided his wet hand that tried to touch her.

-Get out Robin! I don't want to get wet - she protested as she turned away from the affection.

He grinned even wider and sat down removing his glasses. His brown eyes watched her tenderly and before she could react he enveloped her in a soggy hug. The girl grunted in protest. He let go of her with a laugh and rolled on the grass trying to fend off the young girl's punches.

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

- Okay, okay I'm sorry, that's enough Helen! - He laughed standing up and looking satisfied.

- Poor Robie, why don't you mess with someone your own size? - said an approaching voice. It was a young gray wolf, also dressed in his bathing suit, his fur dripping onto the grass.

- Is it? So are you looking for a fight? - replied the boy with a grimace.

Both faced each other and raised their fists as if they were boxers, when the wolf began to swing its body and raise its fur, splashing water everywhere. Hellen screamed madly and jumped to her feet, her blue dress soaking wet and her hair disheveled, staring at her two friends who were laughing and running towards the pier. The three of them fired at the wooden planks over the lake, and when the boys reached the end, they jumped together. The girl arrived soon after and looked around for them in the black water. She crouched down and stared at the shivering surface, as dark and dense as an abyss. Silence screamed in her ears and she became aware of the reflection staring back at her. Big red eyes in the midst of darkness. She felt a searing pain in the back of his neck.

Helen opened her eyes in fear and stared at the white ceiling. She could hear the sound of the rain mixed with his panting breath. For a few seconds she was motionless listening only to the sound of the rain. Still lying down, realized that the place resembled an infirmary. It was a small room, to the left was a window with the curtain open to reveal the light rain. A small table and a glass cabinet were at the far end and a dark wooden door was closed. She sat up in bed and looked at her own body. She was wearing a light green nightgown and when she looked at her hands she was confused. They were covered in soft white fur, as were her arms. She ran her fingers uncomprehendingly, thinking it might be part of her nightgown. She pulled back the sheets and looked down at her legs, covered in fine white hair. Confused, she slowly got out of bed. She felt her bare feet against the cold floor and walked to the window. When she got close enough she saw that the reflection had the same red eyes as her dream. She brought her hands to her face and realized that the reflection of the white haired rabbit staring at her was herself. Panic mounted and she felt sick.

Her desperation was such that she didn't notice when a light brown fur goat wearing a green plaid shirt entered, watching her as he held a clipboard in one hand and slowly closed the door. With the sound the rabbit seems to have realized that she had company and turned her frightened gaze to him. She didn't feel like screaming or running away like before, she just stood still. The goat approached slowly and calmly touched her shoulder carefully guiding her to sit on the bed. She offered no resistance and obeyed. He sat beside her and in a soft voice asked her name.

- Hellen Carrot - she replied looking at her hands moving her trembling fingers.

- Do you remember what happened, Miss Carrot?

- What place is this? - She asked still not looking at him.

- In my ward at the organization where I work in New York. I'm Dr William, responsible for the medical sector.

- New York? You mean in America? But… I can't go in here… I'm human. - Said the girl looking at him with red eyes scared.

- I know you're confused but...

- Doctor, I'm serious… I'm human! What happened with me? I… Am I a beast now?

- Why don't we talk about it later? You must be hungry. I'll bring you something to eat, for now, stay here okay? - said the goat gently with a light pat on the shoulder of the girl before withdrawing again.

*** ***

Stu's hands were shaking, but it wasn't from the cold water from the surgical sink. He was tired and he knew what he needed. Another sleepless night, but this time because of work and not because of memories he would give anything to forget. He crossed the hospital corridors that were losing the lull of dawn and now, with the change of shifts, they were filled with sounds and colors. He went into his office, put on his coat, and felt the tremors get worse. Annoyed, he barely bothered to check that he was alone when he opened a small metal vial that he took out of his briefcase. As soon as he raised it to his lips, he heard a knock on the door. He could see through the discreet crack that opened that it was David, a spotted dog with a tired look.

- Sorry for interrupting Dr Wild, I know you're leaving, but about that last patient, sir... - he started before being interrupted by the fox clearly out of patience.

- I've already got everything ready David, and if you have any questions ask the next person who's going to take over the day.- He took a sip from the bottle, not caring about the act.

The dog cowered in the doorway and left without continuing. Stu put the bottle down and for a moment felt bad for the boy. He was a good intern, as much as he pissed him off, he still knew he was a good doctor. He thought about going after him and apologizing, but exhaustion got the better of him. He left the hospital without greeting the other employees who wished him good morning and went down the street.

He crossed the Santa Barbara Church square and glanced briefly at the entrance. How long has it been since you went to confession? He would have a lot to tell Father Nutts the next time he visited, even if he didn't always tell the whole truth. He was grateful that the morning was cloudy, but still without a drop. The thought of the cold rain had already made him begin to feel a discomfort in his temples. He rummaged through the burnt leather case again without stopping in his tracks. He chewed three painkillers and it seemed the bitter taste on his tongue made him feel a little more willing, he could already see the red brick house a few feet away.

He walked through the faded gate and across the garden, whose grass was already more than a foot high. As he was looking for his keys, the front door of the house opened and something start to wrap around his legs. A red-furred fox, he couldn't have been more than 5 years old, looked at him smiling, wagging his fluffy tail from side to side. He smiled back and ran his hand between the boy's big ears.

- Good morning daddy! - shouted the child before releasing him and running back inside the house.

Still unresponsive, Stu stood in the doorway for a few seconds. The scent of fresh coffee filled his nostrils as a tightness in his chest grew. He closed the door behind him and as he looked into the kitchen he saw a very familiar silhouette. She wore brown pants and a navy blue sweater, her hair was short and as red as her fur.

- Good morning Catherine - said the fox softly, his heart seemed to freeze as she twitched her ears to hear him.

She dried her hands before turning back to her ex-husband unsmiling. Her dark eyes stared at him with an expression of discomfort. It felt like a hallucination, for months they hadn't sat at the table together. A dream that brought a nightmare feeling. Stu was as anxious as he wasn't in a lot of times, completely forgetting about his tiredness. He approached the table and poured a mug of coffee. The silence between them was deafening. Her perfume filled the kitchen and it made him more bewildered.

- Nick said he had forgotten one of the books here - she began, looking away and returning her attention to the sink - This place is a mess and I had to clean it up or I wouldn't have peace...

- I'm glad you came, it was a nice surprise

- We're leaving, come Nick - she called, taking her bag from the kitchen counter and running her hand over the child's head.

- Aren't we going to have breakfast with Daddy? - Asked the little one, still doodling the paper with a pencil.

- Next week you can have breakfast with Daddy… now you have to go to school - Catherine said affectionately kneeling beside the table as she took the pencil from his fingers.

The child wrinkled his nose without looking at his mother. She walked towards the entrance and Stu, still in the kitchen, hugged him tickling the boy who soon started laughing, before escorting them to the door. The weight in his chest only increased as he watched them disappear in the distance. The house felt dark and cold like never before. He went back to the kitchen and picked up the torn piece of newspaper on the table. Between advertisements for canned soup and the result of the last game, there was a doodle of a fox holding a bag in one hand with a sad expression. He took a sip of the hot, bitter coffee, feeling guilt fill his chest as he placed the drawing on the fridge with a magnet.

The doorbell rang and he felt his heart race. He dropped the mug in the sink and with hurried steps ran to see who it was in the hope that his old family had forgotten something. As he opened the door, a black-haired, strong-built goat wearing a suit stared blankly at him.