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The next morning, Virgil was once again in the market district, trying to pass scrolls advertising his father's shop to the citizens who walked by. The scrolls read, "Exquisite shoes, boots, and sandals in all styles! Quick repairs while you wait! Visit Julius Flaccus for all of your footwear needs!" Nearly everyone ignored him and he expected that those who did actually take a scroll did so to humor him, merely throwing them away after he was out of sight. He held out a scroll to an important looking Roman who grimaced and pushed the young hare away.

"Get out of my face, wretch!" The Roman said as she stormed past him.

Virgil wanted to scream. It felt as if the whole world was turning on him. His dreams had been dashed on the cobblestones of the busy Roman streets and no one seemed to care. The young hare thought about throwing all of the scrolls away, but his father's anger was not something he wanted to face again. All he wanted was to be noticed and to be cared about. Was that too much to ask? Virgil trudged away from the bustle and scents of the central market district to get some air. On the outskirts of the district was a large statue of Emperor Hadrian, under which stood a female crow who was shouting the daily news. The emperor's proud features and impressive rack of antlers were displayed for all of the citizenry to see as they walked by. The stag's striking face caught the attention of the passing crowd better than the crow's voice did. Trajan, being a wolf, was not related to Hadrian by blood, rather they were merely cousins- and maternal cousins at that. It was Trajan's deer wife that named Hadrian the new emperor after Trajan's death, as the old wolf had never officially named a successor. But Virgil knew how Roman politics worked. You were only able to advance if you could prove yourself to those around you until yours was the first name they thought of when a higher ranking position became available.

Virgil was drawn toward the noble visage of his Emperor, despite the hopelessness and anger he felt. He just wanted to be given a fair chance, to not be judged based on his meek appearance for once. His father never let him do any actual work in the shop and there was no way he was going to be a house-hare with his mother. Everything Virgil had worked for seemed to fail. The realization that he would never achieve anything in his life assailed him with the force of a sucker punch. The young hare felt lost. His parents may have cared for his well-being, but they didn't care about what he wanted out of life, and it seemed that no one did. Hadrian's proud, stone face looked down on him and Virgil felt emasculated by its cold eyes. He had to do something to make people see that he was worth something.

"Attention, citizens!" The crow was yelling. "Emperor Hadrian has declared a celebration of cleanliness today! Entry to the baths is half price!"

The baths! Virgil could get rid of the scrolls there! There was a changing room inside where patrons hung their clothing. All he would have to do is get inside, and slip the parchment in each neglected robe and his job would be done! The young hare adjusted the satchel of scrolls on his shoulder as he hurried off in the direction of the nearest public bath, grinning at himself for being so clever. The streets grew more and more crowded as Virgil neared the male entrance to the market district bath. No doubt every citizen in Rome was trying to take advantage of the lowered entry fee. Eventually Virgil made his way through the crowd to the entrance of the bath house proper. A short rat stood there, collecting coins from patrons. Virgil pressed two coins depicting the wolfish face of Emperor Trajan into the rat's palm. Neither of them spoke a word as Virgil crossed the threshold and entered the building.

The hare found himself in the atrium of the bath house, a large courtyard in which young males of every species were performing all manner of exercises. Marble columns surrounded the open air yard and Virgil found it difficult to look away from more than a few of the attractive males that tumbled and lifted weights for all to see. The hare noticed as well that he wasn't the only one watching. Many of the more lecherous older patrons didn't even try to hide their hungry stares as they observed the exercising youths. Virgil made himself concentrate on the reason for coming here: he had to get rid of the scrolls in the satchel over his shoulder. He made his way to the opposite corner of the atrium, toward the changing room of the baths. A tile mosaic on the floor in front of the changing room entrance read "bathe for good health." Like any Roman citizen, Virgil was no stranger to the inner workings of a bath house. He knew that he would have to strip along with all of the other men who were looking to actually bathe. The hare enjoyed bathing, but his freshly cleaned hide would be tanned if his father's scrolls weren't passed out by sundown. Virgil would have to be swift and discreet.

The changing room's walls were lined with wooden pegs, many of which had robes hanging from them already. Stone benches also sat at the bottom of each wall, and another tile mosaic, depicting an image of a bathing bull, was displayed on the wall across the room from the entrance. The men who entered the room with Virgil each sat at a bench and waited to be disrobed by the servants that bustled around the room. Virgil palmed a scroll and slipped it into a nearby robe, repeating the process as best he could down the wall until he had given out nearly half of the stack in his arms. He took a seat on the far side of the room, near the bull mosaic and the entrance to the steam room. He took the opportunity to place another scroll as one of the servants nearby turned his back. Finally one of them, a thin otter, approached the young hare and began unfastening his robe.

Virgil licked his large two front teeth nervously, but not due to his impending nudity. There were others in the room who were far less attractive than he. Rather, it was the possibility of getting caught that made his ears twitch and his hands shake. The otter hung Virgil's robe on one of the hooks and the hare watched as many of the men who had been disrobed left through the doorways to the steam room and the swimming pools. When the room was mostly empty and the servants weren't paying attention to him, Virgil stood, taking several scrolls from his satchel, which now hung from a peg. He clutched the scrolls to his chest as he slipped several more into the closest hanging robes. That thin otter was glancing over at him suspiciously every so often; Virgil had spent too much time in the changing room already. The hare suddenly realized he was still wearing his cloth subligar. With his ears turning red, Virgil gently removed the briefs and let them hang from his scroll-filled arm. The otter finally looked away and followed the other servants out of the room. Virgil took the opportunity to quickly slip more scrolls into the hanging clothing. His heart thumped in his chest while the pile of scrolls in his hands slowly shrunk. He was going to make it!

He had his hand inside a pristine white toga when a familiar baritone voice behind him nearly startled him out of his skin.

"Just what are you doing with my robe?"

Virgil turned quickly, only to come face to face with a beautifully proportioned, muscular chest. A path of reddish-brown fur trailed downward and the young hare gulped audibly as he lifted his gaze. Marcus, the lion recruiter from the day before, was glaring at him with narrowed, intimidating eyes. Virgil immediately looked back down, which didn't make the situation any less awkward as his curious stare fixed on the lion's crotch instead.

"I-I... uh..." he stammered, the distraction of the feline's ample endowment making it impossible to get the proper words to form in his brain.

"So, a coward and a thief, are you?" The lion said, scowling.

"What? No!" Virgil protested. "I just... My father sent me to pass out these scrolls... he's a cobbler..."

The hare didn't believe the truth when he tried to say it even though the proof was in his arms. But the recruiter's face softened as Virgil sputtered out the excuse. When he finished talking, there was a short silence before more males began filing into the room. He looked up at the lion who was glancing at him as if appraising a piece of fine jewelry. Why did he have to keep doing that? It made Virgil even more nervous. A leopard servant clothed in more finery than the others approached the lion from behind.

"General Quintus, sir-"

The lion interrupted him with a raised hand. "Not 'General,' Fabian. I am retired, remember? And you ought not be so familiar in public," he added with a smile, gently chiding the leopard for the use of his first name.

"Yes, of course, Marcus. My apologies. The oils and towels are ready in the private room for you."

"Fabian, you may take the rest of the day off," Marcus said.

"Sir?"

"You will receive payment in full, as usual."

The leopard servant glanced at Virgil with an uneasy look, but reluctantly gave in to his master's wishes. "As you wish, sir. Thank you."

As Fabian left the changing room, Marcus placed a large hand on Virgil's shoulder and began leading him toward the marble swimming pools. The room that housed the pools was dark save for light from the windows above that reflected off of the water in each swimming pool and danced along the walls. It gave the room an eerie feeling, as it was impossible to make out details on the silhouettes of the other Romans present. There were mosaics on the floors of this room as well, but they were difficult to see in the dim light. Virgil was shaking now, his heart racing as he clutched the remaining scrolls and his subligar to his pounding chest. He still had no idea what Marcus was planning and that alone terrified him. The private rooms were separated from the pools by a long, dimly lit hallway, and the lion led the hare to the one Fabian had prepared. The room itself was warm and no larger than the apartment rented by Virgil's family. The light from a large window near the ceiling was a welcome and comforting sight. A small washing tub sat against the right wall and a low, wooden bench was in the center, next to which sat a stool with several small pitchers of various oils on it. Five or six towels were stacked next to the door, which Marcus closed behind them. Virgil glanced around the room as his stomach turned over. What the hell was he doing here? The lion was a former general. Everyone knew the Roman army favored discipline, and the lion could easily break him in half if he wanted to. Virgil wrung his hands in front of him, awaiting the impending consequences of his suspicious behavior. Marcus approached the hare from behind and Virgil nearly leapt a foot into the air when the lion's hands gently gripped his shoulders.

"Relax, Virgil," Marcus said. "I am not cross with you."

"Y-you're not?"

Virgil had to admit that the lion's gentle massage on his shoulders did feel pretty good, but he was still uneasy. Marcus lifted the scrolls and the hare's underwear from his arm and placed them on one of the shelves around the room.

"Please, sit," the older lion said.

Virgil took a seat on the wooden bench. Marcus straddled the bench and continued massaging the hare's shoulders as he stood behind him.

"It was brave of you to try and smuggle those scrolls into the robes, even if it was underhanded and foolish," Marcus said. "I know quite well the lengths one must go to in order to prove themselves to loved ones and strangers, but devious behavior is seldom wise."

The lion turned Virgil around and looked into his eyes, but Virgil looked away, too afraid to return any of Marcus's odd affection.

"Why did you bring me here?" He asked.

"Would you rather I called the guard?"

"N-no..." Virgil's ears drooped and he shrunk away from the older lion's strong grip.

Marcus frowned slightly and stood up from the table to stare out the window toward the sky. Cool air quickly rushed in to sap the warmth left by the lion's body on the young hare's fur and Virgil shivered.

"I would like to offer you an opportunity," the lion said. "But I am uncertain if you are ready for it."

"What are you talking about?"

Virgil's gaze returned to the older lion's form and almost instantly zeroed in on Marcus's endowment.

"I want to offer you an apprenticeship," Marcus said.

A long silence followed as if time itself had ground to a halt. Virgil's heart raced in his chest at the opportunity. He opened his mouth to say yes, but paused. There was no way his father would approve of him learning from a general, retired or not. Even if Virgil wanted nothing more in the world than to give Marcus an affirmative answer, the threat of his sire's anger froze the words in the young hare's throat before they could pass his lips.

Instead, he found himself shaking his head despite his mind screaming at him to do the opposite. "I- I can't," he said.

Marcus turned toward him and gazed for what seemed like hours at Virgil's ashamed and apologetic expression. The older lion was analyzing him as one would analyze a strategy map before launching a tactical military maneuver.

"Then you should go," the former general finally said as he turned around once more to continue looking out of the window.

"But..." Virgil's mind assaulted him with a whirlwind of doubt, frustration, shame, and, worst of all, sudden, mysterious anger. He sat there on the bench, seething at himself rather than allowing the anger to consume him. He had to leave. If he stayed, he might lash out at Marcus, who had only been kind to him thus far.

"Fine." Virgil said, perhaps with more resentment in his voice than he intended. The young hare stood and violently pulled the door open, marching down the hall back toward the changing room. He threw his robe back over his naked body and left the baths in a huff. Halfway back to his home, Virgil's chest tightened suddenly and his eyes welled up with tears. Every task his father sent him on ended either in failure or with Virgil feeling like this. Marcus had tried to help him and Virgil could only be a coward. It wasn't fair!

Virgil's march had slowed to nearly a standstill several yards from the door to his home. The young hare couldn't stop crying so he pressed his back against the wall of the building and slid downward until he was sitting on the cobblestone. The cold from the stones against his bare rump startled him from his tears and his ears flushed red as he realized why the stones were so cold...