Mama always say, "A good deal leaves both sides feelin' like dey got robbed."
Which meant, right now?
We was about to get screwed.
I sat where I wasn't s'posed to, starin' up at da Capybara sittin' on his rock throne.
His paws stretched out, his tail lay flat, an' his eyes?
Watchin'. Calculatin'.
Didn' matter dat Mama was bristlin' like a porcupine. Didn' matter dat da Silent Three was sittin' perfectly still, too still, like dey wasn't even breathin'. Didn' even matter dat Chop was still twitchin' like he wanted to grab me by da scruff an' throw me down a tunnel.
Dis Capybara?
He was takin' his time.
Kweek ("Been watchin' ya,") he finally said, his voice low, slow, draggin' over da words like he was chewin' on 'em.
Kweek ("Watchin' all of ya, but mostly... dem.")
His paw flicked toward Grim, Grit, an' Gale, who didn' so much as blink.
Mama crossed her arms.
Squeak ("Ya want somethin'. Spit it out.")
A small chuckle rumbled from deep in da Capybara's chest, more felt than heard.
Hup ("Smart.") His tail flicked against da stone. "I do want somethin'. Da question is—do ya want what I got?"
Mama's ears twitched.
Didn' answer right away. Didn' say no, didn' say yes.
Dat was a bad sign.
Meant she was actually thinkin' about it.
Da Capybara leaned forward, big paws pressin' into da rock beneath him.
Kweek ("Word's spreadin'. Ya family caused a stir. Fights, whispers, rodents askin' questions.")
His gaze drifted back to da Silent Three.
Kweek ("Some are scared. Others are... curious.")
I swallowed hard, fur pricklin' at da back of my neck.
I didn' like da way he said curious.
Didn' like da way he was lookin' at my siblings like dey was somethin' to be studied instead of sumone to be respected.
Mama's voice cut through da air, sharp as broken glass.
Squeak ("What's da offer?")
She wasn't playin'.
She wanted da deal now.
Da Capybara smiled. Just barely.
Hup ("Stay. Join us. Ya family earns protection. Food. A future.")
His paw gestured at da massive underground chamber around us.
Kweek Kweek ("Ain't many places left for rodents like us. Ya got a choice. Take what's offered... or fight for scraps 'til da cats sniff ya out.")
Da room went still.
Da Capybara's words hung in da air like damp moss, weighin' heavy on all of us.
Even Chop wasn't clickin' his teeth no more.
Dis wasn't jus' a casual offer.
Dis was a decision dat couldn't be undone.
Mama didn' answer right away.
Didn' take da bait.
She let da silence stretch, let it breathe, like she was testin' if da Capybara would flinch first.
He didn'.
Instead, he just watched her, patient as a still pond, like he had all da time in da world.
I glanced at Grim, Grit, an' Gale, wonderin' if dey was gonna say sumthin', if dey already knew what was gonna happen.
Dey didn'.
Didn' even look fazed.
Jus' waitin'.
Finally, Mama's tail twitched.
She exhaled slow.
Squeak ("We stay... on conditions.")
I sucked in a breath.
She wasn't refusin'.
She wasn't acceptin' blindly, either.
She was bargainin'.
Da Capybara's ears twitched, just slightly.
Not surprised.
Maybe even expectin' it.
Kweek ("Let's hear 'em.")
Mama held up one paw.
Squeak ("One—we ain't fightin' in no pit, no matter what kind of rules ya got.")
Da Capybara nodded.
Didn' seem to care much about dat.
She lifted a second paw.
Squeak ("Two—my kids don' belong to ya. Ya don' command 'em, ya don' own 'em, an' ya sure as hell don' test 'em.")
Her eyes locked on him real hard at dat last part.
She wasn't stupid.
She knew exactly why he was interested in Grim, Grit, an' Gale.
An' she was darin' him to say it out loud.
Da Capybara was silent for a moment.
His tail flicked, paws shiftin' slightly against da rock.
Kweek ("Done. But ya still answer to me while ya here.")
Mama nodded.
Dat was fair.
She lifted a third paw.
Squeak ("Three—we leave when we want. No chains, no threats, no traps.")
Chop's tail lifted, his teeth grindin' again.
Didn' like dat part.
Didn' like da idea of rodents comin' an' goin' freely.
Da Capybara stayed real still.
Didn' speak right away.
Jus' let da weight of da words settle.
Den—
He nodded.
Kweek ("Done.")
A Choice Dat Ain't Really a Choice
Mama's shoulders relaxed.
Not by much.
Jus' enough to show she knew she'd gotten da best deal she could.
Didn' mean she liked it.
Didn' mean she trusted it.
But she took it.
An' dat's what bothered me.
Mama didn't like takin' deals.
Didn' like owin' no one nuffin'.
Didn' like settin' roots in places dat could crumble under our paws.
Yet here she was, acceptin' a deal from a rodent bigger den all of us combined.
I glanced at da Silent Three.
Still quiet.
Still unreadable.
Like dey already knew dis was how it was gonna go.
Maybe dey did.
Maybe dey understood sumthin' I didn't.
Or maybe...
Dey just didn' care.
I clenched my paws, diggin' my claws into da dirt.
Squeak ("We coulda said no.")
Mama didn' look at me.
Didn' break her stare from da Capybara.
Her whiskers twitched—just barely.
Like she was holdin' back words she wasn't willin' to say in front of him.
Den, real quiet—so quiet I almost didn' hear it—
She muttered:
Squeak ("No, we couldn't.")
Dat hit harder den I expected.
I looked around da chamber again, eyes bouncin' from da glowin' mushrooms to da still water reflectin' da stone ceiling.
We wasn't just stayin'.
We was trapped.
Da Capybara's deal was a cage wit' an open door.
Da kinda cage where leavin' was still an option—
But da second ya tried,
Ya'd realize da door wasn't open no more.
Da fur along my back prickled.
Rusty Ain't Gonna Like Dis
I could already hear Rusty's complaints in my head.
"SWEEK! ("We shoulda kept movin'!")
"SWEEK! ("I don' trust dat big rat!")
"SWEEK! ("Let me bonk him!")
Yeah.
He was gonna lose his mind.
But right now, none of dat mattered.
Mama had made da call.
An' just like dat—
We was stayin'.
Da Capybara didn't smile.
Didn't congratulate us.
Didn't say nuffin' about how we just joined his kingdom, his game, his world.
He just sat there, watchin' like he was already thinkin' ten steps ahead.
Like he knew dis wasn't da end of da conversation—just da beginnin'.
Finally, he raised one heavy paw.
With a slow, almost lazy motion, he gestured toward Chop.
Kweek ("Show 'em to their place.")
Chop's tail lifted.
Not in aggression.
Not in anger.
But in annoyance.
He didn' like dis job. Didn' like wastin' his time on newcomers.
Didn' think we was worth much.
His big teeth clicked together.
Low. Steady.
Not a threat.
Not yet.
Just a reminder.
Ch-ch-ch ("Follow me.")
We followed.
Didn' know where we was goin'—
But it didn' matter.
We was goin' anyway.
Da tunnels stretched deeper den I thought possible.
At first, I figured da Burrow was just one big chamber, maybe a few side rooms, some hidey-holes.
I was wrong.
Da deeper we walked, da bigger it got.
Tunnels twisted in different directions.
Some led to dens, packed tight wit' creatures curlin' up in nests made of cloth, leaves, an' stolen human scraps.
Others opened into storage chambers, where nuts, berries, an' seeds sat piled in careful stacks.
Everywhere we passed, creatures watched.
Eyes peekin' out from burrows.
Tails twitchin'.
Whispers followin' us through da tunnels.
I caught glimpses of mice an' rats, their small bodies dartin' between crates.
A group of chipmunks gathered near a pile of stolen cloth, sortin' through scraps like tiny merchants.
A prairie dog chewed on a root, his beady eyes followin' our every step.
Even a chinchilla, sittin' atop a rock, glanced up from cleanin' his fur to give us a long, slow stare.
They all knew.
Knew we wasn't from here.
Knew we wasn't one of 'em.
Yet.
Mama walked wit' her head high.
Didn' react to da stares. Didn' acknowledge da whispers.
She acted like we belonged here, like she wasn't second-guessin' her decision.
Like dis was jus' another tunnel.
Me?
I wasn't as good at pretendin'.
I stuck close behind her, keepin' my tail from brushin' against da walls, ears twitchin' at every voice I couldn' quite understand.
Dis place was full—not jus' wit' bodies, but wit' tension.
Like every single creature here was tryin' to survive.
Tryin' to climb higher in a world dat didn' have space for weakness.
Dis wasn't a home.
Dis was a system.
A machine.
One where ya either fit in... or got crushed.
Chop didn' say much as we walked.
Didn' explain nuffin'.
Didn' tell us da rules.
Cuz he didn' need to.
We'd figure it out.
Or we wouldn't.
After what felt like forever, Chop finally stopped in front of a tunnel dat dipped downward into a smaller chamber.
Not as big as da others.
Not as fancy.
But ours.
For now.
Chop's tail smacked da dirt floor once.
A dull, solid sound.
Thwack.
Ch-ch-ch ("Dis ya space. Don' wander too far.")
He turned to Mama, his gaze sharp.
Ch-ch-ch ("Rules get broken? Ya deal wit' it.")
Mama nodded, tail flickin'.
Squeak ("Understood.")
He snorted.
Didn' say goodbye.
Jus' turned an' walked off, tail draggin' behind 'im.
I waited til he was gone.
Til his footsteps faded.
Den let out a breath I didn' realize I was holdin'.
Mama turned, takin' in da space.
It wasn' much—a dirt floor, a few cloth scraps shoved into a corner, an old crate tipped on its side like a makeshift wall.
But it was dry.
It was warm.
An' for now...
It was ours.
I glanced at da Silent Three.
Dey didn' react to da new space.
Didn' explore.
Didn' even look all dat interested.
Jus' sat down like dey been here a hundred times before.
Like it didn' matter where dey slept.
Mama sighed, sittin' down against da crate.
Her shoulders sagged slightly.
Not much.
Jus' enough for me to see dat she was tired.
I swallowed.
Stepped forward.
Squeak ("Mama...?")
She glanced up.
Didn' say nothin'.
I hesitated.
Looked at da dirt, at da scratches along da walls, at da faint smell of other rodents dat had lived here before us.
Squeak ("Did we make a mistake?")
She was quiet for a long time.
Den—
She exhaled.
Ran a paw over her whiskers.
An' finally muttered:
Squeak ("Don' know yet.")
Dat was da scary part.
Not da tunnels.
Not da creatures watchin' us.
Not da Capybara's plans, or da deal we just got locked into.
It was da fact dat even Mama wasn't sure.
An' if she didn't know—
What chance did da rest of us have?