Mama always say, "Da Wilds belong to da stabby-fluffies, but down below? Down below belong to somethin' worse."
I didn' know what she meant.
I do now.
Da Lost Ones led us deeper into da tunnels.
Da deeper we went, da weirder it got.
Walls covered in old, crumblin' hooman stuff. Rusty beams, pipes dat leaked funny-smellin' water, faded scribbles dat hoomans musta wrote a long time ago.
But dat ain't what made my fur prickle.
It was da noise.
Soft.
Distant.
But huge.
Like da sound of too many paws in one place.
Rusty twitched his nose. "Sweek?" ("Dere a stampede down here?")
Torn-Ear snorted. "Squeak." ("Dat's da city.")
Mama's ears twitched. "Squeak?" ("City?")
Torn-Ear grinned."You'll see."
We turned a corner.
Da tunnels opened up.
An' den?
I saw it.
A whole city, underground.
It stretched forever.
Wooden bridges, tangled tunnels, lil' makeshift houses made outta old hooman junk. Tiny lights, stolen from hooman stuff, glowed like fireflies.
An' da animals—
So. Many. Rodents.
I thought only hamsters lived down here.
I was wrong.
Mice. Runnin' across da rafters, squeakin' at each other.
Rats. Big ones. Grizz looked tiny next to some of 'em.
Squirrels. Their tails flickin' as dey leapt from ledge to ledge.
Prairie dogs. Standin' up, watchin' da tunnels.
Porcupines. Movin' slow, their quills rattlin' when sumone got too close.
Beavers. Big, stocky, chewin' on wood near da river tunnels.
More guinea pigs. Rusty lost his mind."SWEEK!" ("LOOK, DERE'S MORE DUMB-DUMBS LIKE ME!")
Mama yanked his ear. "Squeak!" ("Shut up.")
Chipmunks. Scurryin' up walls, their cheeks so stuffed wit' food I thought dey was gonna pop.
Pouched rats. Quiet, sneaky, draggin' bags of stolen junk.
Pocket gophers. Diggin' holes in places dat probably shouldn' be dug.
Chinchillas. Fancy-lookin' ones, sittin' on ledges, whisperin' to each other like dey had secrets.
Springhares.Big jumpy ones, leapin' 'round like dey got hooman springs in dey legs.
Scaly-tailed squirrels. Creepy-lookin' ones, starin' from da high-up tunnels like dey knew somethin' we didn'.
Dis wasn't just tunnels.
Dis was a whole world beneath da world.
An' in da middle of it all, watchin' from a high-up ledge—
Da biggest rodent I ever seen.
Da Capybara.
I ain't never seen one before.
He was huge. Bigger dan Grizz. Bigger dan Rusty. Bigger dan anything dat lived in da tunnels.
He sat on a big, flat stone, surrounded by da biggest, toughest-lookin' animals in da city. His fur was scarred in places. His eyes? Calm.
Too calm.
Like he already knew why we was here.
Torn-Ear led us right up to da ledge.
Den, he bowed his head. "Squeak." ("New ones, Boss.")
I gulped.
Da Capybara tilted his head.
Den, real slow, he spoke.
"Kweek." ("Welcome to Da Burrow.")
Mama stepped up first. Her tail twitched, but she didn' show no fear. "Squeak." ("We ain't here to cause trouble.")
Da Capybara watched her. His big ol' paws flexed against da rock.
Den, he nodded. "Hup." ("Good. Cuz if you was, you wouldn't last long.")
I didn' like dat.
Twitch clung to my side, whisperin', "Sqwek." ("Iz dis place better den da stabby-fluffies or worser?")
I didn' know.
Rusty?
Rusty beamed."SWEEK!" ("I LIKE IT HERE!")
Mama smacked him.
Da Capybara chuckled.
"Kweek." ("Ya got guts, new ones. But guts don' mean much down here.")
Mama frowned. "Squeak?" ("What do mean?")
Da Capybara's ears twitched. He glanced down at da city below.
Den, real slow, he said—
"Down here, only da strong survive."
An' sumthin' in his voice made me realize—
We wasn't guests.
We was bein' tested.