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The drugs they'd given him slowly wore off, and he rubbed his eyes, at the same time, hearing a faint humming, some kind of song. Neil Young maybe? He couldn't be sure. With a start, he sprung up, squatting on his knees, and took a bewildered look at the badger in front of him. His long, somewhat pointy head hung down in his paws, and with such a defeated expression. He'd never seen an actual badger before; their range didn't extend that far south, but the animal had similar markings to his own, though a much abbreviated tail. He looked very broad, and strong. Yet this one certainly didn't seem ferocious. Simo had always heard badgers were a scrappy lot, unafraid of a good fight.

"You a guard or some Bible dude? Or some kind of narc? Better just tell me now, and save a lot of trouble!"But the Badger remained silent, sullen, and just glared at him. Simo was generally never this bold, but he felt on edge now. Though the room had just the drab bunks with their olive green blankets, a small dresser, and a pair of desks with Bibles and writing paper, it did have a large window overlooking the rolling green mountains. The sun at that moment was setting over the mists, letting in crimson rays that streamed across the room, and flickered in their eyes. Through the droplets of moisture that condensed on the windowpanes, the light shown almost iridescent in places, like small, silvery rainbows. Thinking back, he recalled the particular song the badger had hummed: No, he was just another boy sent here like himself.

The skunk dropped his defenses. He fluffed up the hair on his head, like a fluffy rooster, and gave his tail a swish, to make it look fuller, and as sign of welcome. Finally the Badger answered, and with an accent that was foreign. British? Australian? Quaint sounding, to be sure.

"You seem scared, or somethin'. Don't worry. I won't hurt you. Where you come from? You don't seem like anyone from down here in these parts. Oh, call me Simo. Simo Skunk."

Finally, the badger spoke."No, I'm stuck in this shit-hole just like you! My family had me shipped all the way from Cumbria. Lancashire. And nutters the lot of them. I'd almost be happy to be away from the fools, if I wasn't being held prisoner with some, some...skunk!"

Simo squinted, and looked at him square in the eyes.

"Now look here, badger-boy. We're both in the same mess. Besides, I bet we can get out of this prison, somehow. I'd reckon' it's best we work as a team, and not start off to fightin'. No use in that. So, what's yer name"

"Zevon. Or Zevo, if you like. But just don't make matters worse. Besides, I'm not in a good mood."

Simo tilted his head, and wondered who would be. He sat on the bed, next to the badger, and looked into his eyes. What curious features. He extended a paw.

"OK, let's shake hands, and be friends. After you get done bein' so ornery, maybe we can make the best of this. Besides, it's not so bad, being caged up with a badger looks as nice as you", and he squeezed his paw gently. As he did so, he thought he felt some small charge of current, as if the badger's bluster masked something mutual, some subtle electric fire that for his sake was playing within him. But maybe he was being too poetic, not to mention, somewhat aroused.

Just then, the two weasels burst into the room, followed by the bitter, old Reverend Fox.

"So! You just arrive, and I find you two sissies holdin' hands! Well, you're first night is gonna be rough! Guards!", and the Rev. summoned the weasels. They lifted Simo to the top bunk, cuffed his hand and foot-paws to the bed, and then, did likewise to Zevon. "There! That's how you'll spend your first night! The Lord has ways of punishing bad furs!", and he slammed the door, as the weasels checked the restraints, and gave them dirty looks, snickering as they slithered out.

"There. Now see the mess you caused!" hissed the badger. "You and your bright ideas!"

"Aw, now, you'll live. Besides, I'm a wiry sort, and I reckon' I just might be able to pick these locks, come night-time, with my long fore-claws. It don't do you no good to worry, now does it?" The badger just grunted. His odd, musky smell rose up, and made Simo restless; an element of the exotic filled him with a sudden longing, something beyond a mere lust. He'd already managed to twist one paw free, and after dark, he had plans. The badger just grunted, and soon, he could hear him softly snoring, as moonlight filled the room.