Despite what some may assume looking at the situation from the outside, there was no resentment. Such an assumption is an easy and understandable one to make; surely, there had to be a nearly uncountable number of preys that felt a great deal of anger and resentment both for the myriad of species that saw them as mere  disposable food on legs that served only one purpose as well as the ostentatious way they flaunted their superiority and perfect moral standing on utilizing sentient critters as simple food. Given the conditions prey are forced to live under and the physical and mental abuse they are subjected to, it would seem quite an easy task to find a mouse or rabbit or chipmunk or what have you that could easily deliver an hours long soliloquy on how predators were simply mangy, snarling, vile abominations that should be forced to live their preyish lives for just one day so that they could see how it feels to have to live in constant fear that every single unidentified noise or clump of matter disguised in shadow could finally be the one predator that would finally end your life as 'innocent little prey just trying to get by' and damn you to a life of simply existing in a pred's gut. There must be so many deeply angry and frustrated preys out there that would give anything in the world for it all to be reversed for just a day or two so that they could hunt down all of the species that had made their lives such miserable and unfulfilling stretches of time and make them see how it felt to be hunted as food. They want a pred's worst nightmare to come true, in other words. While this was certainly true of many preys, it of course wasn't true of all of them and it couldn't have been further from Izzy's mind. The little brown squirrel didn't harbor a single ounce of resentment for the scores of species and creatures that would love nothing more than to gobble the little guy up and demonstrate to the rodent his proper place in the world. It was little surprise upon getting to know the little rodent; just speaking to him for a very short time would reveal that the squirrel most likely didn't possess a single negative feeling for anyone.

He never thought of it that way. He never thought 'I wish we could hunt /them/ and make them see how it feels'. There were plenty of reasons for this, the biggest and most obvious one being his submissiveness. His personality was very far removed from the archetype of what kind of personality one would expect from a life lived completely under the shadow of being the 'inferior' form of life. There was no bitterness. The only thing the squirrel was concerned about was that he was a squirrel and a lot of creatures ate squirrels. He didn't want to be eaten so he avoided it as such, but if the people who hunted him told him that they were the superior creatures, who was he to argue? It wasn't hard to see their logic, after all, especially if one had been confronted with this subjugation their entire lives. How can one argue with 'I'm better than you because I can eat you and if you disagree, you'll end up inside of my stomach'? Even if one were simply going along with this line of thinking merely to please those who wish harm upon you and still secretly hold doubt that their words are true, after hearing it for years and years as well as seeing the fate of those who dared to disagree or talk back or even simply look tasty...what would it matter? False submission would turn into real submission soon enough and you could easily lose yourself in the game of pred and prey. Even if you were a frustrated, predator-hating, prey-have-rights, squirrels-are-people-too creature, time and reinforcement would easily break you or at least soften your standpoint to the extent that it could easily be manipulated by a predator. Because at the end of the day, prey were prey and they only had each other on their side.

Izzy didn't resent predators for what they did, he was too busy bowing down in abject terror to them. Nothing was scarier to the timid little squirrel. Though the rodent possessed a great deal of fear and that fear was divided fairly equally to a countless number of things in his life, predators were by far the absolute most terrifying thing his squirrelly mind could comprehend. They were horrifying, all of them. Of course, he feared specific species but just predators in general took the number one spot on his top ten list of fears. Just the thought made the little guy shiver in fear and usually that was all he had. He had of course seen predators before (of a number of different species) but the few times he had actually gotten a complete view of a predatory creature, fear clouded his thinking so much that he found it difficult to remember most details. He had only seen a handful of predators in his life (a cat, a fox, a couple of wolves) but, fortunately for the squirrel, he had trouble recalling much about what they looked like. Despite this, his mind had no trouble forcing them into his nightmares. His imagination seemed quite happy to fill in the details he hadn't remembered with features that were even scarier than the ones that had actually been there. And if just the thought was enough to make the squirrel tremble, imagine what actually seeing one would do to him. The sight of a pred would turn the squirrel into a wide-eyed, whimpering little mess of a rodent. They were just so scary. They were /predators/.

Thus, Izzy spent little time looking out his window. It was hard to resist because he very much enjoyed gazing at the predator city in the distance, letting his mind wander and delve into complex daydreams about what life as a predator must be like. Often, he would submit to his yearning to at least take a peek and would quickly lose track of time and end up gazing out his home's only window for hours at a time. The minute he pulled himself out of his daydreams, however, he was quick to avert his gaze and scamper to somewhere further back in the room; somewhere darker, somewhere where he couldn't be seen from the outside. There was a good reason he was scared to look out the window for too long; its close proximity to such an active pred city meant that a great deal of predators stalked the streets and alleyways in search of a meal and statistics mandated that if you looked long enough, you would get a front row seat to one of your prey comrades taking that fateful plunge into a predator's stomach...and that was something the squirrel most definitely did not want to witness. So, he would often make do with a quick glance and the occasional daydream-driven stare that would make him wince with realization once he finally came back down from his mental plateau.

It was a very cold afternoon and Izzy had found himself doing just that: staring out his window, squinting to try and make out the city in the distance. This was the only view he'd ever had of the predator city and he would often try and imagine what it must look like up close, his thoughts filling with images of those tall buildings and busy streets and happy residents bustling about. Of course, at the same time, Izzy trembled at the thought of getting that wish and being able to see the city up close and personal...the only prey that got to see the city in person were there to be sold as food. It was an odd paradox: Izzy wanted to see the city so badly but the scariest thing in the world would be actually achieving that dream as getting to see it would mean that he was about to be sold as a meal in one of the many establishments that specialized in the sale of live prey. With that in mind, he was content to simply admire it from a distance and hope with all of his heart that he never actually got a closer view. Izzy had let himself stare a little longer than usual this time and felt that familiar twinge of regret and fear prick at his nerves when he finally snapped out of his trance, shaking his head slightly to shake off the stupor and wanting to kick himself for allowing his gaze to linger on that long. He had to stop doing that; not only did his vulnerable position put him exactly where predators roaming the street could see him (like he was right there on a platter for the taking) but even if their hungry gaze didn't land on the squirrel in the window, there was always the aforementioned risk of witnessing the gobbling up of whatever other poor critter the pred snatched up and that was potent nightmare-fuel in and of itself.

Quickly scurrying back to the far side of the room where he couldn't be seen from the window (it was around dinner time, prime hunting hour for all of the preds that frequented this prey slum for a meal), the squirrel sat with his back flat against the cold wall but not before first grabbing a book off the tallest stack next to his bed. This was his usual routine - every day at this time, he would scurry to the side of his apartment furthest from the window, taking a book with him to keep himself calm while he waited to see if he would make it through another round of intense hunting. There were several stacks of all different sizes and heights by his bed (he liked to read before going to bed as it helped calm his nerves) but the tallest one contained all of his favorites, the ones he would pull out when he really needed to calm his frazzled squirrelly mind. Checking to make sure he got the right one, he smiled a little before taking his position at the darkest corner of his house. Quickly shuffling into place, curling up so as to be as small and hard to see as possible, he quickly opened the front cover and began reading. It was almost like a measuring stick for prey success - start reading and if you are able to reach the last page, you've succeeded in not becoming food. Let's see what page you get to, in other words. This book was very special to him; it was one of his favorites. It was kinda scary because the author was a fox and there was a picture of him on the cover and foxes were scary but, as long as he closed his eyes and opened the cover quickly enough, he could forego the terrifying image and get to the text. The reason this was one of his favorites was a mixture of two things: first of all, the writing was excellent and the author's use of the language to describe the story he was trying to get across made thousands upon thousands of pleasant images float across Izzy's mind. It was simply a good book, and that's a universal thing. The other reason was more specialized to prey in particular: this was one of the very few books out there (and the only one that Izzy was currently in possession of) that made absolutely no mention of predator superiority at all. It was simply a story about predators and it only involved predators. There were practically no mentions of prey in the entire thing and there wasn't a single chapter that involved the characters munching on some poor critter they had bought or managed to catch themselves. Of course, it was a humbling thought that an entire, fulfilling story could be told without even acknowledging the existence of your kind, but seeing as how when predators mention prey they're only talking about one thing and one thing only, Izzy didn't look a gift horse in the mouth. It was nice to be able to read an entire book and not once come upon a sentence or paragraph or chapter or even entire volume about how predators were superior in every way and prey were just there for food.

Izzy had only gotten about 5 pages in when he was interrupted. Thankfully, though, the interruption wasn't being snatched up for dinner, it was a voice. A cry for help. Izzy jumped and nearly dropped the book when he heard a very clear male voice yell 'help!' topped off with a grunt of pain. The squirrel's mind went haywire, dozens of possibilities flashing through his head. Silence returned as the voice's cry echoed away, leaving the rodent to wonder if he had even heard it at all. Confirmation was quick to arrive, though, as the voice called out again.

"Please...*grunt*...someone help me!"

The squirrel was both scared and curious now. The obvious answer to the questions that the voice had raised was that any desperate cries for help at the prime of hunting hour would be from some unfortunate critter that had failed the simple game of pred and prey and was now disappearing from the land of light and fresh air forever. Izzy winced at the thought; a poor, terrified little defenseless creature calling out for help that he knew would never come. What prey would be foolish enough to try and help a prey currently being devoured? It would be a mighty nice way to secure a two course meal for the pred, but even if you fit into the aforementioned group of frustrated, irate prey that dreamed of one day getting revenge on the preds that had made your life miserable, no one was that stupid. Even they had to admit that there was nothing they could do to save a fellow prey creature from being devoured like that. Hate them all you want, they are still right about one thing: they're stronger, no question. That simple answer didn't seem to line up with what was happening though. There was something about the voice that just seemed...different. The timbre and tone-of-voice suggested something quite bizarre: it sounded like a pred. Prey have a sense about these things; there's something in a prey's mind that can tell the difference between a prey's voice and a pred's even if they are both saying the exact same thing in the exact same way. Something inside Izzy told him that this was a predator yelling for help and that just didn't make sense. First of all, why would a predator be calling for help in the first place? What could be so wrong with a pred that they would cry out for help like this? Izzy looked at preds with an almost naïve, child-like view: they were /predators/, creatures capable of devouring little critters like him, the real people of society, the superior beings...how could they need help? It was kind of a silly notion, but Izzy viewed predators as such powerful, superior creatures that it seemed odd one would require help like this. It just didn't seem in a predator's nature to him. Perhaps this was because, as mentioned earlier, Izzy had seen remarkably few predators in person (thank goodness) and so his view of them had been left to the propaganda that the predator collective around him churned out, accented by stories told from prey to prey as well as the nightmares and mental images the squirrel had collected over a lifetime of fear and hiding. He thought they were the opposite of everything he was and a plea for help is something the squirrel would do himself...thus, it was a touch odd to imagine a predator doing it.

The other reason this struck the rodent as odd was that not only was the mysterious voice calling for help, it was calling for help in the middle of a prey slum. Now, regardless of what your mental image of predators is, we can all agree that /that/ is something one has trouble imagining a predator doing. First of all, what help could a prey possibly offer a pred aside from a delicious meal? If a predator calling for help in the first place is odd, then a predator calling a prey for help is kinda silly. I mean, it fell short on many logistical levels: how could a prey possibly help a predator and even if there were a reasonable answer to that point, what kind of predator would actually ask said prey for said help? One would think a predator would be too proud and unwilling to accept prey as actual people to ask favors of them or admit that they had something the predator could not do without (again, aside from a full belly) even for just a moment. Still, something about the voice just seemed to indicate anything but a prey. Izzy couldn't place exactly what it was, but there was something in the voice and choice of words that did not fit in with the scenario of 'a poor little prey calling out for help while being swallowed up for dinner'. As Izzy was contemplating all of these strange notions, another grunt of pain sounded from several stories below causing the squirrel to flinch again. Whatever it was, it really sounded hurt and it pained Izzy to hear another creature in such a state. Whether pred or prey, it hurt the squirrel's heart to hear someone in such pain. Thinking before his instincts and nervousness could stop him, he quickly scurried to the other side of the room, carefully placing the book down on the hard floor, and ducked underneath the window, making sure that every part of him was 'safely' hidden just out of sight. His tail was twitching so much with nervousness and worry, he had to actually reach out and hold it next to him to keep it from swishing out where it could be seen and giving away his position. He was still apprehensive about looking out the window at this hour (especially if whatever creature lying injured out there was indeed a predator) but his curiosity and worry was getting too strong to ignore. The circumstances surrounding this event were bizarre and Izzy had a burning desire to know what was going on. If it were obvious that this was simply the panicked cries of a little critter becoming lunch, the squirrel would have tried to hide himself as best as possible and wait until whatever was feeding had left before coming out, a long stretch of terrible nightmares surely awaiting him as the sounds of the poor little critter would continue to echo in his mind long after it had transitioned from sentient creature to food in a belly. This didn't seem so black and white, though, and so the squirrel wanted to know what was happening. If this was something other than an ingestion-related cry for help, he wanted to see if he could indeed answer the creature's pleas.

Izzy waited there for a moment longer, trying to work up the courage to ease his head up and take a quick peek to check if whomever was hurt could even be seen from his apartment. 30 seconds later, he was still trying to gather up the intrepidity, all of his natural prey cautiousness and fear suddenly beginning to catch up to him. Was he crazy?! What was he doing, checking to see if it was a pred? Who cares what kind of creature it is, you're safe and hidden. If it's a prey, just let them get eaten and mark one more predator belly as 'full'. The fewer empty stomachs, the better your odds; better you than them! And if it's a pred, what does it matter? They're a predator, they have someone out there who will help them if they fall. Unlike prey, they have others on their side who would come running at their call for assistance. Also, unlike prey, they had a 9-1-1 system in place for just this kind of thing! If it's a hurt pred, they /had/ to have a phone on them and all they had to do was fish it out of their pocket, dial 3 numbers, give their location, and within minutes there would be a team of medical experts at their disposal. Prey didn't have those luxuries and preds did, so why was he so concerned that there might be a predator hurt somewhere? Again, though, Izzy was not a frustrated or angry or resentful prey. If someone was hurt, he wanted to help and it didn't matter the laundry list of reasons that it would be unwise or potentially bad considering his crippling fear of being eaten. Just as Izzy was about to give up and return to his hiding place, however, a quick shout of pain sounded (louder this time) and another plea for help soon followed.

"Ahh! ...*grunt*... Damn it! Someone help!"

The pain and anguish in the creature's voice had hit a high water mark and Izzy quickly found the courage he had been seeking. Inspired by the desperation in the creature's voice, the squirrel suddenly lifted his head ever so slightly and slowly, barely peeking above the bottom of the window frame. All at once, the real situation hit him.

First of all, yes - the injured critter could definitely be seen from his apartment. In fact, said creature was actually lying right in front of Izzy's building next to a small cropping of dead and shriveled bushes. Second, yes - it was definitely a predator. A fox to be exact. Also, yes - he was injured. The fox was down on his side, clutching at his ankle and foot like it was trying to tear itself off and escape from him. It was obvious even from this distance that the creature was in quite a lot of pain, even if he hadn't heard the obvious overtones of suffering in his voice already. The squirrel yelped and ducked back down behind the window at the sight of the predator, suddenly feeling very vulnerable with a pred so near. It was way too close; close enough to see is way too close.

The squirrel could hear himself squeak softly as he ducked back down into his hiding place. Why did it have to be a fox? Seriously, out of all the species it could have been...why a fox? The little squirrel was absolutely terrified of them. Not only were they simply just a scary sight to behold for a little prey like himself (they were one of those species that you could easily identify by just their silhouette), but stories about foxes were quick to come by in the prey community, especially if you were a rodent. They were just so scary...their athletic and physically adept build...their rows of sharp teeth...their stereotype of cunning and tricky critters you could never really trust...they were just a terrifying species in general. They had appeared so frequently in the squirrel's nightmares and were one of those species that he always could swear he was being watched by. Though Izzy feared every predator species, there were a few that just horrified the squirrelly down to his very core and foxes were at or near the very top of that list.

Again though, just as Izzy began to shiver in fear at the sight of a pred (this being only the fourth or fifth one he had ever seen), another sharp grunt of pain tugged at the little squirrel's heart and his head once again slowly rose slightly to get another look at the injured pred. A crazy idea began to swirl around in the rodent's mind. It was the craziest idea he had ever allowed himself to imagine and most likely was the craziest thing a prey could do. Pred or no, seeing someone in such pain with no one around to help stirred a great deal of pity in the compassionate little squirrel, Izzy overcome with a great desire to do something to lessen the suffering creature's pain. The fox's grunts and groans of pain had settled into a constant murmur of suffering as he lie there, helpless. Izzy could relate to that; being completely helpless with no one around to assist you or lessen your suffering any. He knew what it felt like to be completely defenseless and without anyone to help you so he had an inclination to help the poor injured pred out. He wanted to lend his assistance in any way he could, to show the fox that he wasn't alone and there were other people that felt like that too. The predator was awfully prey-like, in other words, and as such Izzy was inclined to show him that he was not alone in such a state. No one was helping him after all; not a single person (neither predator nor prey) had come out of the shadows to assist the downed creature. Even though he was a terrifying predator...Izzy felt a little sorry for him and wanted to make him feel better. Feeling more than insane and acting against every single instinct and thought and warning in his body, Izzy grabbed a medical kit and scampered out his door and down the hallway, heading for the stairs.

As the soft pitter-patter of his paws impacting the unforgiving metal stairs echoed all around him, his mind was considering simply leaping out of the squirrel's head and finding a new owner, someone who wasn't as stone-cold insane. What was he doing, running out in the middle of the street to help a predator? The sight of an injured predator should be a welcome one for a prey - not only does it mean the predator (who was obviously there to get a meal, why else would he be in a prey slum like this?) got his comeuppance for treating critters like him as food, it also meant that he was no longer really a threat. Even Izzy could outrun him at this point; how was he going to give chase with an injured foot? Everything in Izzy's mind was screaming at him that he should have just done what his prey instincts told him and stayed where he was and just let the predator fend for himself. If it were a prey lying injured out there, no predator in their right mind would attempt to assist them. Unless by 'assist' you mean take advantage of the defenseless prey and scarf them down, thanking the powers that be for granting them such an easy meal. Still, though...something kept him going forward, something within him maintained that he needed to at least try to help this pred out even if that thought by itself ran counter to every single emotion and action the squirrel had ever had and taken. Pushing himself forward before he had time to change his mind, Izzy soon found himself at the entrance to his building, the dilapidated wooden doors (with cracked glass windows) serving as his final and only barrier between the predator filled nightmare of the outside world and safety. This was always the hardest part of it - actually going through those doors. Whenever he had to go out to scavenge for food, he would always freeze here and stand behind those doors for what seemed like an eternity, trying with all of his might to gather up the courage needed to push them open and dart out into a cold, unforgiving, cruel world. This time was no different and Izzy found himself simply standing there, body shaking from fear and nervousness, trying to force himself to push his hand forward and part the two enormous doors that psychologically seemed to protect him from all of the dangers that lurked beyond them. Now that he was still and the sound of his descending footsteps had stopped echoing, he could hear the fox's groans of pain much clearer and louder now than he had in his apartment, though they were still muffled slightly by the door. That familiar sound once again giving him another burst of compassion-fueled courage, he slowly lifted his paws and gently pushed against the rotting wood, the two flimsy barriers parting easily and exposing the little squirrel to the outside world and all of the dangers therein.

For just a moment, caught up in the distraction, Izzy had almost completely forgotten what he was doing and the whole reason he was going out in the first place. Again, the rodent went through this practically every time he went out to forage for food and the squirrel had done that several times throughout his life so, momentarily, he forgot that this was a special occasion and allowed the minor victory of gathering up the courage to force the door open to distract him. What reminded him was the sight that greeted the rodent's eyes when they finally focused - the sound and motion of the doors opening had obviously grabbed the predator's attention and the predator was now staring directly at the exposed squirrel. Izzy froze, his eyes widening, as the fox simply stared at him, the look on his face indistinct and hard to read but still showing traces of the pain he was obviously still in. He seemed more confused than anything, as if he really wasn't expecting to see the squirrel at that moment and Izzy could certainly say the same. Fear beginning to shoot through his veins, the squirrel simply stared back with widened eyes, the logical part of his brain screaming that he should hurry up and explain himself before the fox lunged at him or something. Injury or no, he was still a predator. The only thing he could offer, though, was his terrified stare and trembling. After a few seconds of this undeclared staring contest passed, the fox's gaze suddenly shifted away from the squirrel's face and to the bag that was slunk around the rodent's shoulder. The fact that it was white with a small red cross sewn onto the center of it gave a good indication of what it was and contained. The pred's eyebrows arched as his mind put two and two together and his look instantly changed as he figured out what was going on, his gaze returning to the squirrel's wide, fearful eyes.

"Well...what do we have here, a little squirrel medic?"

Izzy gasped softly at the fox's words. The sound of the pred's voice coupled with the fact that Izzy knew he was actually speaking to /him/ hit like a ton of bricks, the cold fluid of fear rising in his bloodstream. Besides that, though, the gasp was also a reaction to the predator correctly guessing what the squirrel was trying to explain before he even got himself together enough to actually explain it! Predators were always one step ahead of you; they knew what was going on before you did and they knew exactly what was going through your mind at any given moment. They know you better than you know yourself (at least that was how it felt) and the squirrel subconsciously took a small step back. The fox, despite the pain, chuckled slightly at this.

"You don't have to be scared, squirrel. I can't chase you with my ankle fucked up like this."

Well, that certainly was nice to hear, despite the fact that it could so easily be a lie. Still, it was good for the nerves to hear the predator at least acknowledge that he was at a disadvantage and would be risking further injury if he attempted to chase the little squirrel down (especially if he ran up a tree). Timidly, he undid his earlier step back with a step forward, putting him back in his previous position. The fox grinned at this.

"Good. Now, tell me...what's a little squirrel like you doing out here?"

Izzy's throat immediately slammed shut in nervousness in reaction to the predator requesting that he speak. That always happened when he had to talk - his throat would close tight in apprehension. He was so afraid he would say the wrong thing that he got very nervous when an answer was requested from him and with the other person in the conversation being a predator, it was all the little guy could do to keep himself from simply bolting at the invitation. He had a very hard time speaking to others and the 'other' in this case being someone who could fit his entire form quite nicely in their belly did not help the situation any. Still, he fought to gain control over his vocal chords and explain himself. Even though the fox seemed to be (despite the obvious pain he was in) quite calm and also despite the fact that his belly seemed empty at the moment and he was obviously here to hunt down a meal, his words and body language thus far had given little indication that he had any tricks up his sleeve. You never knew with predators, though.

"...u-um...I, u-um...."

The squirrel had to take a deep breath to calm his nerves enough to finish his attempt at a sentence.

"...I...I s-saw that y-you were...h-hurt and....I...I w-wanted to...h-help..."

Now it was the fox's eyes that widened, though it was out of surprise not fear.

"Really, now? Well, isn't that sweet...you're a kindhearted little rodent, aren't you? That's pretty brave of you to come all the way out here to help a predator like me."

Izzy's fear and anxiety quickly gave way to bashful blushing in response to the compliments. The squirrel's gaze dropped as his face reddened, a little smile spreading across it as he squeaked softly. He struggled to get his voice to work again, although this time his vocal chords were frozen from shyness as opposed to gut-wrenching fear.

"...th-thank y-you, M-Mister P-Predator..."

The pred's grin widened at the squirrel's response as he shifted himself a little so that he was sitting up rather than lying flat on his side.

"I gotta tell you, I was not expecting a prey to come help me out, much less a squirrel..."

Izzy's gaze remained cast downward, the rodent suddenly (for better or worse) feeling a lot more comfortable with this predator than he was mere moments ago. While he still was nervous and apprehensive about being this close to a predator, no matter what kind of injury he might have, the fox's choice of words and tone of voice (not to mention the fact that he had just complimented the squirrel, something Izzy didn't experience often let alone from a predator) left him to believe that this pred might be able to accept Izzy as a person and hopefully agree not to eat him in exchange for the squirrel providing him some relief from the pain currently wracking his body.

"...w-w-well y-you...you really s-sounded h-hurt..."

The fox grunted.

"Ughh, yeah...I am. I came here to get some dinner; I was hunting this mouse when I caught my foot in that tree root over there..."

He gestured to a thick tree root that had pushed its way above the dirt and snaked across a small patch of the ground above it before sinking back down to the depths below. There was a small pile of upheaved dirt right beside it, indicating where the predator had tripped and also indicating that he must have been going pretty fast at the time.

"I think it broke my ankle...and I banged up my elbow pretty bad when I hit the dirt."

He lifted his arm slightly and faced his elbow towards Izzy so he could have a better look. He had indeed cut his arm pretty badly and it was bleeding, causing the red fluid to trickle down, the droplets landing with a splash on the ground below. He paused as the squirrel looked over the wound from a distance.

"So, are you a little medic or something, Red Cross Squirrel?"

Izzy's gaze lowered slightly once again in bashfulness as the fox addressed him, nodding his head 'yes'. The vulpine grinned again; it was kind of a chilling sight, regardless of the intentions behind it. A grinning predator was quite the recurring image in the squirrel's plentiful nightmares and it was rather frightening to see one in real life, even if Izzy had reason to believe he was safe (at least momentarily) with this particular pred. The fox motioned for the squirrel to come forward.

"Great! Well, come on over. Don't be shy."

For a moment, the squirrel felt a bolt of danger shoot through his system at the request. It was like, all of the sudden, the situation and its absurdity hit him; go over to a grinning, empty-bellied, clearly-hungry-and-frustrated-that-his-prey-got-away, you-could-practically-hear-his-stomach-growling predator? How batshit bonkers was he? What was wrong with him? The pred is down and hurt, completely (even by his own admission) unable to hunt him and here he was, about to willfully go within his now very limited striking range. Why not just jump into his mouth and hand him some salt and pepper shakers?! What was he thinking?! This sudden jolt of fear and hesitation must have been visible through his facial expression because the fox seemed to sense that he was losing his nerve.

"It's okay; how stupid would I have to be to eat a medic while he's healing me? You don't have to be afraid."

That was a pretty good point - he was hurt and bleeding, why would he eat the only one who could help him? To trade getting medical attention for a full belly seemed a foolish thing to do; he couldn't walk on the injured foot and blood was flowing pretty badly out of the wound on his arm at this point. It was pretty cold out, too - hypothermia was certainly possible especially with him losing blood. Not to mention the fact that he was an injured pred stuck right in the middle of a prey slum; the shoe was kind of on the other foot now. Even though his predator ego wouldn't allow him to admit it out loud, he was in a rather vulnerable position. As long as prey stayed out of his incredibly limited striking range, they could do whatever they wanted to him, instigate any act of revenge for everything preds had put the prey in this little shantytown through that they wished. Even a mouse could chuck a rock a fairly far distance, certainly far enough to hit pretty hard while still guaranteeing your safety from any lunges the pred could muster. Even though he was a pred, he was kind of in trouble. Finding the strength to power through the reprise of nervousness and anxiety, Izzy slowly and cautiously made his way towards the pred, trying his best to divert his eyes away from the fox's terrifying grin. The predator nodded and continued to motion the squirrel over; he seemed very happy that the squirrel had decided to come closer. Pretty soon, Izzy was standing right next to the powerful creature, trembling slightly in fear...this was pretty terrifying after all; he had never been this close to a pred before, regardless of the alleged safety. The fox chuckled as he looked up at the trembling rodent, clearly pleased with what he saw.

"See? I told you; nothing to be afraid of. I'm not gonna hurt you."

The squirrel, still shivering, nodded shallowly and smiled a little.

"Get to work, medic squirrel."

Quickly snapping out of his little trance, Izzy nodded again and quickly knelt down to tend to the fox's injuries, going for the bleeding wound first. Getting that bleeding under control would be top priority. The predator tilted his arm and positioned it to make it easier for the squirrel to see and work on as Izzy inspected the wound. He quickly unslung the bag around his shoulder and opened the zipper holding it shut, pulling out some supplies he would need. The kit didn't have any latex gloves, so instead the first thing he grabbed was a square of gauze. Tearing it out of its paper wrapping, Izzy was just about to begin applying pressure to get the bleeding under control when he hesitated and looked up into the predator's eyes. The fox was quick to identify what was wrong and was just as quick to respond.

"Don't be afraid to touch me. You do whatever you have to do, Doctor Squirrel."

The rodent blushed at the nickname before nodding again and using the pad of gauze to apply pressure to the wound. He was very nervous (and still shaking) as he performed first aid on this pred; his mind just kept saying 'you'd better do this right!'. Somehow, though, he managed to push all of his fear and apprehension aside for just enough time to tend to this injured pred. Predator or not, this was an injured /person/ and he deserved treatment just as much as anyone else. It didn't take long for the bleeding to ebb and then stop completely and Izzy instantly went to work cleaning the area around the wound. It wasn't big enough to require any irrigation but there was blood and a bit of dirt around it and that kind of thing was just asking for infection. Once it was clean enough, the rodent placed a fresh pad of gauze on it and dressed it, making absolutely sure that it wasn't wrapped too tight, a quick capillary-fill check confirming that it wasn't too tight so as to cut off blood flow and the predator's words confirming that it wasn't too tight so as to be uncomfortable. With that task complete, Izzy moved onto the pred's injured ankle, what had alerted him to the fox's presence in the first place. A quick check revealed that, despite the pain, it was most likely not broken. It didn't look dislocated either which meant it was probably just very badly sprained. In this case, though, it was always better to assume fracture until x-rays proved otherwise so he decided to splint it, if not just to provide some pain relief. Quickly doing just that, Izzy grabbed a splint from his bag and began to demobilize the fox's ankle, making sure that the splint was nicely padded so there would be no discomfort for the predator. The fox watched him the entire time, the squirrel trying his best to not let the uneasy feeling that his prey senses filled his head with in response to the knowledge that he was in the predator's line of sight get in the way of his work. That was one of those senses prey had - you just /knew/ when those terrifying eyes were pointed at you. Securing the gauze in place and making sure it was taped down nice and securely, Izzy checked over his work one last time, satisfied that the fox had been taken care of. His wound was cleaned, bandaged, and dressed; his ankle was immobilized and splinted...he had done it! He had actually fixed this pred up! Somehow, altruism had broken through the enormous amount of timidity and fear that prevented this squirrel from doing so many things throughout his life. He had actually done what had seemed impossible mere minutes ago and now, the fox was all bandaged up and (although he certainly would have to go to his doctor to get checked out), would recover and be fine again in no time!

Letting out a squeak of accomplishment, Izzy set about reassembling the medical kit and putting everything back in its place before sealing it up with a 'zipp'. As Izzy tidied up his supplies, the fox looked over the squirrel's work, tapping his splinted ankle on the ground a few times to ascertain how much pain walking would cause him. He seemed impressed with what he found.

"Wow. Thanks a lot, little squirrel. You're quite the little medic, aren't you? I gotta say, when I left my house this morning to hunt for food, I certainly did not expect to end up as a patient to a little squirrelly EMT. Not even in my most bizarre dreams did that situation or any variation of it show up, I must admit."

Izzy blushed again and lowered his gaze bashfully.

"...I...I w-was...h-happy to h-help..."

The fox smiled.

"Well, thank you! You did a great job - my foot doesn't even hurt at all anymore! I can definitely stagger my way back home now. You really helped me out, little guy."

Izzy squeaked softly as his gaze lowered even more and his face flushed an even redder color. He was so happy that he had helped this pred out and that he was so pleased with him. Just the fact that someone was so happy with him and thankful for his actions was enough to make the squirrel blush, but...a /predator/ complimenting and thanking him? He couldn't even squeak through his bashfulness to say 'you're welcome'! And to think he was hesitating to do this! To think he was considering simply leaving this pred to the mercy of the environment and whatever the angry prey collective around him were capable of doing to him in his vulnerable state! He was just thrilled that he had helped someone so much and that they were so thankful for said help. All of the hesitation and anxiety almost completely vanished at the predator's words - hearing how happy the predator was made everything entirely worth it. The fox only smiled back at the squirrel, that predatory grin now far less threatening and scary, as he sat up further and leaned in closer to the blushing squirrel. All of the sudden, the fox grabbed Izzy with both hands (one paw on each of his forearms) and held him not unlike Izzy's splint held the fox's ankle, not too tight so as to be painful but not so loose as to encourage it to weaken or give way. The squirrel yelped in surprise as the paws grabbed him and pulled him closer, that smile still wide as ever on the predator's face.

"You know what would really make me feel better, though? A nice little squirrel tucked away in my belly."

For a moment, Izzy just continued to stare in shock, the sudden change of pace a little too much for his mind to handle and completely absorb momentarily. When the words finally did sink in, though, the squirrel's eyes widened immensely and he felt that all too familiar nip of fear and danger tug at his senses again as he began to tremble. As he stared wide-eyed into the predator's still grinning gaze, his squeaky little voice sprung to life.

"...w...w-what?"

The fox's expression didn't change even slightly in response to the squirrel's query.

"Well, I'm still hungry; I mean, my catch got away, didn't it? And now that my foot is injured, I'm not going to be able to hunt...and you happen to be right in my reduced pouncing range..."

The predator's voice carried such an air of obviousness, as if he was surprised the squirrel was having trouble understanding what was happening. It was so obvious, after all - he had come within the striking range of a hungry predator that couldn't hunt anymore...what did he think was going to happen? Now that he was done bandaging, he could help the pred in a different way. It would be killing two birds with one stone - he gets his injuries patched up and gets a full belly all from the same squirrel. Now, that was fully utilizing your prey! Izzy, however, was far less excited about the predator's ingenuity and desire to get full use of his prey...in this case, him.

"You're the one that came all the way out here...you had so many opportunities to run away...and there's no way I could have caught you if you ran. You chose on your own power to come out here and get this close to me...this is the ramification for your actions."

Again, his tone of voice just dripped with an almost condescending air of 'what part of this don't you understand?'. Izzy couldn't believe what was happening. The pred was going to eat him after all? Even after all he had done for him, even after all of his kind words of praise and thankfulness? Almost at a loss for words, he could feel the cold fear begin to once again rise through his bloodstream, suddenly feeling like maybe his prey instincts had been right all along and maybe he /should/ have just stayed hidden in his apartment.

"...b...b-b-but I...I j-just w-wanted to...h-help..."

The predator smiled and nodded his head.

"And you did! You helped me out a lot, far more than I expected from a little prey like yourself. If you were a pred, I'd say that I owe you one. But, thing is...you're not. You're a squirrel...and foxes eat squirrels...and I'm hungry..."

All kinds of emotions began swirling around in Izzy's head as his happiness at having done a good deed quickly faded back into terror and fear at being in the grasp of a hungry predator. This fox was no longer a helpless, vulnerable creature that Izzy felt the need to comfort and make feel better, he was a terrifying and vicious predator that had every intention of ending the day with the squirrel curled up inside his tummy. The squirrel's prey mind instantly switched gears from 'oh thank you Mister Predator that's nice of you to say it was no trouble I'm just glad I could help' to 'oh god please don't eat me please don't eat me I'll do anything please don't eat me!'. It was an easy switch to make, since the little squirrel had spent his entire life in the former mind set and there was plenty of incentive to beg for your freedom in the strong grasp of the much more powerful predatory creature.

"...oh, p-please don't e-eat me, p-please...I..."

The squirrel's attempt at begging dissipated into a sad whimper, the situation hitting him all at once and flooding the little rodent's brain with lightening bolts of panic.

"You wanted to help, I know. And like I said, you did! But I'm hungry and you're food...even though you fixed me up and everything...you still belong in my belly."

The squirrel whimpered pitifully in the fox's grasp as his world suddenly didn't seem as bright as it had mere moments ago. Just a minute or two ago, the squirrel allowed himself to delve into a daydream he didn't often fawn over; for just a moment, it felt as if predator and prey really could get along and function as equals, both offering each other whatever they could bring to the table and forgoing the evolutionary path that had led them to this world of one mercilessly devouring the other. For a split second, the comradery that seemed to exist between himself and the predator he had helped allowed the squirrel to slip into the realm of prey fantasy and dream of a world that was far less cruel to him and his kind. Cold, hard reality hadn't waited long to assert itself, though, and the rodent was now jolted into the truth of his existence - prey were eaten and predators did the eating. Even though he had risked everything to help this predator out and save him when no one else dared to step forward, he was still just food in this pred's eyes and his noble act of altruism was not enough to spare him from his ultimate fate as a tasty little squirrel.

"...p-p-please...p-please let m-me g-go..."

The predator nodded his head 'no'.

"Sorry, squirrelly...the only way I'm leaving this spot is with a tasty little medic in my belly."

Another whimper emanated from the poor little squirrel's lungs, tears threatening to form in his eyes.

"...b-but...p-please! P-please, I'll d-do a-a-anything!"

The predator chuckled at the squirrel's words, his eyebrows arching.

"What else could you do? You've already patched me up...what else can you do for me other than fill my belly?"

Izzy's gaze dropped as a tear trickled its way down his cheek, the little squirrel sniffling sadly, a quiet whimper softly squeaking from his lungs.

"...p-p-pleeease..."

The fox couldn't help but chuckle a little, though he truthfully meant no offense in the gesture.

"Aww...poor little squirrel...you thought I wasn't going to eat you, didn't you?"

The squirrel could only offer another pitiful whimper at the vulpine revealing that not only was eating him the predator's intentions all along, but he was actually surprised to find that the squirrel thought otherwise. How could he have been so stupid? What was wrong with him to go running out in the center of danger to do something so insane? Did he think he was a combat medic or something, darting out into a rainstorm of bullets and explosions to save young lives at the battle for Normandy? What had gone through his little squirrelly head? Didn't he know not to trust a fox? This sad little preyish whimper only got another soft chuckle in response before the predator leaned in and licked the squirrel across his face. This only caused another flurry of pitiful sounds to come from the lowly little creature as the vulpine smacked his lips, pleased.

"Mmm...you're tasty, squirrel. Much better than that other rodent I was chasing. I guess I'm pretty lucky to have run into you, little guy!"

The fox spoke of this so nonchalantly, as if it was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary...and it was. This was something that happened a countless number of times every single hour of the day. Someone, somewhere was having this exact same thing done to them and it might even be another fox and squirrel. It was simply how the world turned - predators need food and prey are food. Even though, to the squirrel, this was a traumatic and life-changing event, to the fox it was merely a meal and nothing more. A tasty, squirmy, enjoyable meal...but still just a meal. Izzy tried to beg the predator for his freedom again, but his words stopped short of his throat and came out as a tiny squeak as his tears began to flow freely now that his begging (his only hope for freedom at this point) had led to nothing. The rodent-y little sound just made the predator's grin widen.

"Awww. Is it really so bad, spending your entire life stuffed in a fox's belly? Is it really that terrible to fulfill your purpose as fox food?"

The little squirrel whimpered quite sadly in response to the predator's questions. His mind just wanted to scream back "Are you crazy?! Of course it is! What am I supposed to do, jump for joy? How would /you/ react to being informed that you were going to, from here on out, spend the rest of your time curled up inside of someone's abdomen, merely a disposable scrap of food? How would /you/ react to never being able to see the outside world ever again, the only indication you exist being a slight bulge to a predator's belly? How /should/ one react to being nonchalantly informed that you are hence forth going to be known as 'food' and spend the rest of your life as a lump in a fox's midsection? Should I pop open some champaign and get some party favors?!". Despite all of that, though, all the squirrel could offer in response was another whimper and a barely audible 'please' amid a sea of sad sniffles. Again, though, the fox couldn't help but chuckle given the squirrel's reaction.

"Well, then I guess it is!"

The vulpine had almost been seriously asking the rodent if it truly was that bad - being a fox, he really didn't know what it was like to be in the rodent's position, in the clutches of a hungry predator that had their mind set on gobbling you up and merely using you as a piece of food to fill their belly, and was genuinely curious if it really was as terrible as prey made it seem. Was it really that bad or were they just being drama queens and overreacting? Well, judging by the squirrel's reaction to all that was going on, the former definitely seemed to be the correct answer. That's not to say he was concerned or would use this as an indication that he should go easy on the squirrel or even perhaps let him go free, he was simply curious. Food doesn't get mercy, it's just food. Did the squirrel ever thank the acorns and walnuts and almonds and seeds that he managed to scrounge up? Of course not; why would he? The same, therefor, applied to the squirrel himself - regardless of everything, he was food and it would be silly to let him go. As if on cue, the fox's stomach growled hungrily, demanding that he hurry up and get the little squirrel inside of him and sate his stomach's needs. Not only was he hungry as it was (nothing made a stomach more demanding than a catch managing to escape) and not only did he have a tasty little prey in his grasp (whose deliciously appetizing scent was filling the vulpine's nostrils every time he inhaled now, complimented nicely by the scent of the rodent's fear), but the submissive and fearful reaction he had gotten from the squirrel so far had set his predatory mind spinning like crazy. Sadistic pred or not, evolution has (by necessity, perhaps) hardwired a predator brain to run wild with hunger at the sight of a lowly little submissive creature such as this one. He couldn't help but salivate at the sight and sound of the little squirrel begging and sniffling in his paws. His stomach growled loudly in impatience, causing the squirrel to squeak again.

"Well, squirrel, I'm hungry. It's time to get gobbled up."

At these damning words, the squirrel began to squirm in the fox's grasp, squeaking and whimpering like mad as his fate quickly approached. His wiggling was easily kept in control by the grip the fox already had alone and squeezing a little tighter halted them altogether, causing the squirrel to squeak again and sniffle sadly as his mind filled with desperation.

"But, first..."

Without warning, the vulpine suddenly pulled the squirrel into a hug, the surprised rodent letting out a little squeal as he was pulled tightly against the fox's body. This caused another short bout of squirming as the confused rodent didn't know what was going on at first but then quickly melted into the predator's embrace and wrapped his arms around the larger mammal, cuddling into the hug, starving for affection. The vulpine chuckled as the squirrel stopped resisting once he realized what was going on, his grip moving from around each of his arms to around his entire body in a tight hug. The squirrel clung to the vulpine, crying pitifully into his shoulder as the fox held him for a bit, patting him on the back with his bandaged arm. The grinning predator just let a few moments of this pass, allowing the squirrel to enjoy a last bit of affection before he took his plunge into the predator's body. He figured he deserved as much, even if he was just food. I mean, he had been kind enough to mend his injuries after all; he could at least give him a little something back. The squirrel snuggled closer into the pred's warm embrace, his eyes closed as they leaked tears down his face. He wished he could just stay like this forever; everything was so scary and overwhelming and unfair. This hug meant so much to the squirrel, he didn't want it to end. After a few more moments, though, the fox reached over and took hold of the squirrel's arms again and gently peeled the little rodent off of him, leaving the squirrel to whimper sadly as the warm, comforting embrace was exchanged for the cold air and even colder knowledge that he was going to be fox food in mere moments. The predator chuckled again as he looked over the pitiful little squirrel in his clutches.

"You looked like you needed that."

A small squeak served as a confirmation that he had been correct in that assumption (and the squirrel's reluctance to let go was a good indication that he wished he were still in that embrace). Satisfied that he had offered his prey a little warmth and affection before dooming him to a lifetime of being belly stuffing and with all of that out of the way, the fox prepared himself for his actual meal. 

"All right...ready to go in my belly, squirrel?"

The squirrel whimpered loudly as he, eyes still closed and leaking tears, shook his head 'no', sniffling sadly. The fox only chuckled.

"Well, sorry, but it's time to be food, little guy. You're gonna be a delicious meal!"

The squirrel only whimpered and shook his head 'no' again softly, silently pleading with the pred to let him go, far beyond the ability to form words in his pitiable state. The fox's response came in the form of another lick to his cheek and a soft growl as the vulpine enjoyed the rodent's flavor. Izzy let out another soft squeal of fear as he felt the terrible fox tongue lick over his face once again, sampling him like a simple snack. Izzy opened his eyes slowly just in time to witness the fox smacking his lips, savoring the sample of the rodent's flavor he'd just received. His wide-eyed, tearful, sad little look must have been a very pitiful sight to see. The predator, however, only growled again in approval as he licked his lips and lifted the squirrel up a little, to make it easier to shove the little guy into his waiting maw. The squirrel in the equation panicked at this development, squirming and squeaking desperately, wishing with all his might that the predator would change his mind at the last minute and allow him to scamper off with his freedom. Unfortunately, that did not seem to be the case, as all his struggling did was earn him another quiet chuckle.

"Have a nice life in my tummy, squirrel."

With that, the fox opened his maw nice and wide, giving the squirrel a good view of the drooling vulpine's rodent-devouring maw, his rows of razor sharp teeth, and of course the pitch black abyss of the fox's throat, the tight and squishy tunnel that would lead to his new home from here on out. As you can imagine, this was not a pleasant sight for the horrified little squirrel, the poor squeaky critter beginning to squirm and struggle quite intensely, energized with desperate thoughts of escape. Again, though, his wiggling was easily controlled with very little physical exertion on the predator's part, causing the squirrel to whine pitifully as the best resistance he could offer was quashed by the predator with virtually no effort, guaranteeing his trip down that terrifying, pulsating gullet that lead deep down into the fox's belly. The squirrel was left to simply whimper and whine sadly as the predator brought his prey closer and closer to his gaping maw, the little rodent forced to watch that hungry muzzle get larger and larger and larger until it completely overshadowed the poor little squirrel. As the fox guided the rodent's head into his wide open maw, the squirrel's view suddenly filling with the sight of the vulpine's tongue and the air suddenly becoming much more wet and humid, the squeaking little creature finally found his voice. And what a time to find it!

"...n...n-n-no! P-p-pleeeeease!!!"

The fox merely grinned around the squirrel in his mouth, allowing the rodent to hover above his tongue and under his upper pallet for a moment, before glomming down on him, the squirrel getting held against that ever tasting tongue by the roof of the fox's mouth. Izzy heard as much as felt a low moan of enjoyment reverberate around him as the vulpine maw collapsed around the rodent, sealing him up in wet, squishy fox flesh. The squirrel squealed in fear as he was suddenly encased in the warm muzzle, the fox tongue underneath him flexing and moving in constant motion as the predator tasted his snack. It was so immensely satisfying to finally have the lovely taste of rodent on his tongue, his insides had been literally aching from the disappointment and slight humiliation at having lost the snack he was after. It was truly damaging to the ego to have a prey get away on you and it can make you desperate to take it out on whatever other little critter happened to be unlucky enough to fall in your line of sight. With that in mind, one could understand how enjoyable having the little squirrelly on his tongue, doomed to a future of certain consumption, was for the vulpine predator. It made everything okay again. Not only did the mouse he was hunting get away, but he had (whether accidentally or on purpose) caused the predator to injure himself. And who happens to come along but a little medic squirrel, exactly what the doctor ordered! It was unfair and a touch sadistic, but it was a very nice way to repair an ego damaged by a prey that managed to escape to then take out your frustrations on a similar critter; show those squeaky little snacks what happens to insulant little rodents that need to learn their place! All of this, however, faded to a background murmur as the delicious flavor of his prey spread throughout his mouth. All other reasons for eating this little squirrel paled in comparison to 'he tastes really fucking good!'.

As the predator slurped his little squirrelly snack, his eyes drifted shut as his tongue rubbed him all over, soaking up the wonderful flavor his little rodent body had to offer. The squirrel in question however, completely encased in fear and darkness, could only squeak desperately and try his best to squirm as he felt himself slipping further into the fox's body ever so slowly. Although the fox had chomped down on the squirrel's chest, the constant motion of the predator's tongue as well as the squirrel's squirming had caused Izzy to slowly sink deeper into the hungry pred, the rodent now sealed inside the fox up to his belly. The predator hadn't even really noticed this as he was too busy luxuriating in the pleasurable sensations and flavors that having a little rodent in your mouth, wiggling around on your tongue, had to offer. So engrossed in his pleasure was he that he didn't even notice the squirrel slide in a bit further due to his oral muscles weakening slightly as a result of his surrender to the wonderful sensations rocketing through his body. He craved prey so badly, the already terrific flavor of the meal he had secured multiplied several times over as the fox turned his earlier loss into a win; it was almost worth losing that prey if it meant that the prey he actually gobbled up would be that much more satisfying. And it certainly was! Suddenly, the squirrel felt himself come up against some resistance and instantly knew exactly what it was - the fox's throat. His squeals and squirms immediately tripled in the wake of this unwanted new information. Everything seemed to be going too fast, the fox far too eager to get the little squirrel down into his belly where he belonged. It just seemed like all of the milestones of being swallowed were zipping right by him before he even had a chance to register the previous one. A predator's arms, a predator's mouth, a predator's throat, a predator's belly; those were the mile-markers of becoming food. And he was already at the third one! This fox seemed very eager indeed to get this little squirrel inside of him and it made for quite the bewildering experience to the little rodent at the receiving end of it. Encased in darkness and disorientation, he had trouble even guessing what part of the process he was now on. Was he in his throat or his belly? Did he even want to know in the first place? The only time his blind panic was interrupted was when he hit the threshold between steps and the opening to the esophagus was one of them; it marked the boarder between step 2 (a pred's mouth) and step 3 (a pred's throat). Knowing that it had only been a matter of seconds and he was already face-to-face with the next to last step on the list of directions to a fox's belly sent the rodent into a flurry of panicked squeaks and squirms, begging and pleading with only his mind to be going anywhere but where he was headed. He would give anything to be absolutely anywhere but where he was...if only he had stayed in his apartment with his book and just let the vulpine fend for himself. Now, here he was - food. Food for the very creature he had felt such an inclination to help. Life just isn't fair.

The fox, feeling his prey reach the back of his throat, prepped himself for the first gulp, very much looking forward to the sensation of the little squirrel taking the plunge into his waiting and eager throat. His squirming was assisting his tongue's quest for flavor quite nicely, though, and so he decided to simply wait and allow the squirrel to continue rubbing himself against his predator's tongue. Silly rodents...they never learned that squirming only makes it more enjoyable for their pred. Pausing for a moment to allow the rodent's flavor to wash over him before the first gulp, another deeply pleasure-filled moan emanated from the fox's lungs, the sound nearly deafening for the little squirrel hovering just at the entrance to his throat. After a moment or two, though, the fox just couldn't take it anymore and gave a nice powerful *gulp*, the strong throat muscles that the squirrel was squished up against suddenly grabbing him and pulling him down as the terrible sound of the fox's swallow echoed in his sensitive squirrel ears. That sound was so horrible...it was almost as bad as the swallow itself. Another moan was quick to sound as the fox felt the squirrel get pulled down his throat, the gulp pulling the rodent's hips and thighs into his mouth to be licked over and enjoyed. The only thing left of the squirrel for anyone to see were his kicking legs and characteristically fluffy squirrel tail; everything else was being tasted and enjoyed by the vulpine predator, the squirrel's very body merely a source of pleasure for the pred. The fox let out another chuckle (though muffled of course, he did have food in his mouth after all) at the sight of the squirrel's kicking legs and twitching tail hanging just outside of his maw. It was just a funny sight to see and it mixed well with the gustatory enjoyment the fox got from continuing to snake his tongue around the squirrel's flesh. Izzy's tears flowed like water now, the desperate little squirrel completely hopeless yet still unable to accept his fate. There was still a small part of him that believed there was something he could do to stop or even just slow down his descent into the fox's stomach even though every indication so far was merely the depressing yet unavoidable truth: he was going in this fox's belly regardless of what he did or how unfair the whole situation was. He could already feel that terrible fox tongue slurping over his hips and legs, after all; clearly, there wasn't much of him left outside.

Hovering somewhere in predatory heaven, the fox subconsciously took another rolling gulp, pushing the squirrel's upper body further down his neck and pulling the squirrel's legs into his muzzle. The squirrel let out another pitiful and pained squeak as he felt himself slip even further down the predator's throat, his worst fear so close to becoming reality now. As the predator licked and slurped his legs, matting the fur with his saliva, the familiar sound of the fox's moaning once again filled Izzy's ears. With the rodent's feet and tail now being the only things left outside his muzzle now, the vulpine leaned back, supporting his head with his paws, a dreamy smile of delight stretched across his face (though it was a little hard to see, since it was being obstructed by a very twitchy squirrel tail at the moment). Being a predator was awesome and the fox simply sat back and felt good about himself for a moment; a strong, fearsome, predatory creature that had caught an insignificant, inferior little squirrel to swallow up like the snack that he is. He had forced a submissive little critter to sacrifice his life to keeping himself full and happy and comfortable. That was quite the dominant thing to do and the fox couldn't help but let his ego swell a little at the power one felt from doing such a thing. His eyes drifted shut again as he tasted his prey, the poor little critter still trying to fight his way back out even though it not only wasn't going to work but obviously simply increased the pleasure the predator got from snacking on him. All the better for the pred - the squirrel had been foolish enough to trust a fox and he was now paying the price. Silly squirrel should know better...but good thing he didn't! Otherwise, he wouldn't be enjoying a lovely meal at the moment.

The fox's stomach let out another impatient growl that almost seemed to be out of jealousy, as if it had spent so much time hearing from the tongue and throat how great this squirrel was but had yet to actually get to sample him itself. The sound utterly terrified the little squirrel held so tightly in the predator's throat, inspiring another quick bout of entertaining whimpers and squeaks and another round of pleasurable massage-like squirms and wiggling. Reminded of his hunger by the deep grumble his stomach emitted, the fox tensed his throat and took another smooth gulp, pulling the squirrel's feet into his maw causing the rodent to once again hit against some fleshy resistance. This time, however, the realization that his descent had been slowed by something was much more terrifying than before, filling the rodent with his most desperate thoughts of escape yet. There was only one thing it could be, only one more step left - the stomach. He had finally reached the fox's belly. All of that squirming and begging and struggling...it was all for nothing, as here he was, about to officially become fox food.

Hearing and feeling the squirrel's panic at having reached the entrance to his stomach, the fox chuckled and decided to take an extra long time licking and suckling his yummy little squirrelly feet, letting the prey hover in that terrifying space of 'not yet in the belly, but one more swallow will put you there'. A little sadistic, but hey...a pred's gotta have some fun and the fox was completely within his right to toy with his snack. The squirrel was just food, after all. Taking a nice long time running his tongue over the rodent's feet, letting it glide lovingly over each individual foot paw, the fox rumbled in pure enjoyment. This was so nice; everything was just so perfect. His bad day and misfortune had given way to such good luck upon meeting this little squirrel! Instead of empty-bellied and injured, he was now on his way to a beautifully filled belly with absolutely no damage to show for it (thanks to the nice medical work of the very critter giving him such a nicely rounded belly!). After spending a good 5 or 10 minutes slurping over the squirrel's feet, the predator very slowly prepped himself for yet another gulp, this time making sure the squirrel knew far in advance that it was coming. The next gulp was certain to push him into the fox's belly and the fox knew that the squirrel knew that, so he wanted to torture him a little. When the fox did things like that, the squirrel squirmed and gave him a lovely inner massage and made such cute little noises...why wouldn't he want to do that as much as he could while he had the chance? Though he held off on the actual gulp for as long as hunger and biology permitted, that dooming swallow eventually happened, the squirrel's head getting forcefully pushed through the stomach's entrance and finally sliding out into the vulpine stomach, the squirrel's new home from this day forth. The fox let out a particularly pleasured moan at the sensation of his prey breaking the barrier between throat and belly; that part always felt so good! It also offered a nice preview to what having this particular little prey in your belly would feel like and wow...this fox was certainly happy to have snatched this little squirrel up while he was busy blushing and being bashful. The predator would have just hated himself if he actually allowed /both/ preys to escape him today. Thankfully, though, this was not the case as the squirrel had been so caught up in his shyness and blushing in response to the predator's kind words that he was child's play to grab and gobble up.

With the squirrel's head and upper body in his belly and his feet now in his throat, the squirrel's tail (the only indicator that he had ever existed to the outside world) was pulled into the fox's maw and the predator completely sealed around the entire squirrel with a smack of his lips. The vulpine spent a good deal of time running his tongue through the lovely fluff a squirrel tail had to offer, occasionally glomming down on it with his entire maw and finding the feeling and texture of it to be very similar to a marshmallow. It was quite a nice capper to the succulent and delectable squirrelly meal and the fox entertained his mind and taste-buds squishing the little squirrelly tail around in his mouth for quite some time. His stomach, however, was not happy with this delay (having the squirrel partly in his belly but not entirely inside yet making his tummy very impatient, the feeling of incredible pleasure just around the corner) and grumbled angrily, demanding the fox take that final gulp and seal the little squirrel inside of him once and for all. The vulpine in question was very happy to oblige his stomach's demands and, as the squirrel was still reeling in the knowledge that his tail was being tasted meaning that there was nothing left outside for the world to acknowledge his existence outside of being fox food, the fox tilted his head back and gave a nice strong GULP, the last of the squirrel slipping down his throat and filling out into the fox's belly, forcing the little squirrel to curl up inside of the predator's midsection as the entrance to the tummy sealed shut behind him. The squirrel let out a defeated wail as he heard and felt that final swallow, feeling the grip the fox's throat had on him tightening as it squeezed the squirrel forward, pushing the last of him into the vulpine's belly, sealing him up tight.

The sensation of the prey filling out into the empty tummy was quite pleasurable indeed, the sight of a nice lump forming in the fox's belly easily visible to anyone near the predator at the time. With his meal finally sealed up in his belly, the fox groaned in pleasure as his paws immediately went to his full belly and began to rub, so utterly pleased with what he had done. This was more like it - full and satisfied, that was what a fox deserved to be! The balance had switched quite nicely; the fox had gone from the suffering, unlucky one to the sated, pleasure-filled, full-bellied predator he should be and the squirrel had become the little belly-lump he was born to be; everything had worked out for the better! The squirrel should be the one suffering, not the fox and he had finally fixed what was wrong with the scenario.

"Mmmmmm...oh, you were yummy, squirrel. So tasty and flavorful!"

The fox took a moment to smack and lick his lips, the wonderful flavor of the prey that had passed through those lips mere moments ago still clinging to them and there for the enjoying. Still rubbing his full and squirming belly, the vulpine shivered at the sensation of finally putting a little rodent like Izzy in his proper place. The strike to his ego had been paid for...not by the rodent that had caused it in the first place, but all is fair in love and vore. Point is, there was a rodent in his belly...that was all that mattered. And it sure felt good! The fox patted his belly as he spoke again.

"You feel nice in there, squirrel. Must be pretty tight 'cause I can feel every little movement you make. Do me a favor and keep doing wiggling around like that - it feels pretty good."

The fox chuckled at his own words, the squirming squirrel within finding little humor in the situation. He had begun squirming upon entering the fox's belly, his movements simply being an unintentional subconscious reaction to plopping into a predator's stomach, the final piece of the puzzle falling into place for the squirrel. There was no escaping now - it was all over. He squirmed and wiggled around quite energetically, trying to push the walls of the fox's belly away from him as if he were in the middle of a huge crowd of people and just needed to push everyone away to give himself some room. The emotionless tummy walls, however, were not affected by the squirrel obviously wanting them to leave him alone and continued to cling to the little guy and hold his entire body tight. He just couldn't believe it - he was actually completely sealed up inside of a fox...and there was no way out. He was going to stay there for the rest of his life; the only way out was if the fox let him out and judging by the pleasured noises and actions and words that greeted him as a result of his struggling within the belly, there was very little chance the fox would ever feel the need to do that. It looked like he was stuck here, forever trapped inside of a fox, simply a meal and nothing else. The predator chuckled again as the squirrel whimpered and squeaked some more in response to his taunting (though truthful) words and continued rubbing his belly.

"Mmmmm..."

After 10 or 15 minutes of simply lying there and enjoying his full belly, the fox pulled himself to his feet and prepared to return home where he could curl up in bed and continue enjoying the lump in his tummy and think about how pleasurable the rest of his life was going to be now that he had a yummy little rodent tucked away inside of him. As the fox started off for home, he was surprised at how little pain walking now caused him. Thanks to the squirrel's well administered first aid, the fox could walk like normal without even a little bit of pain. He barely even limped! The fox just smiled and rubbed his belly some more, gently stroking not only his satisfied tummy but also the crying little squirrel curled up inside. He felt no need to thank the squirrel for his good work at this point, the pleasant feeling the squirrel gave the pred by being inside his belly overshadowing everything else about the rodent now. Now that he had the little guy sealed up inside of him, he had almost all but forgotten it was the squirrel that had healed him in the first place. That didn't matter now - he was food and that's what made the squirrel worth having around. The fox eventually made his way back to his house, carrying the medic that had treated him inside of his swollen belly. If it hadn't been for the squirrel, the pred wouldn't have even made it home and the rodent's kindness had been repaid with a torturous, horrible, nightmarish plunge down into the fox's belly to live out his worst nightmare and remain all sealed up inside of the organ for the rest of his life. But, that's just what had been meant to happen - prey is meant to be eaten, all arguments aside.

It serves him right for trusting a fox.