Chapter One

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You'd think it unlikely that a sheep would even approach a lion, let alone become friends with it.

Sure, society may have changed. Sheep hybrids, lion hybrids, and other types of mammal hybrids now exist, covering the population. But predators were still seen as a threat, and other hybrids never dared to approach lions for any other reasons other than business, too worried for the safety of their own kind.

Some are foolish though. You'd find them on the daily news at that point, talking of their disappearances. But nothing really could be done about the system, lions, tigers, and other predators were often in positions of power, in government, mafias, and even to gangs. No one dare oppose them.

What a dumb little sheep Briar is.

That's not what he told himself however, standing in front of a huge iron gate, belonging to one of the post powerful men in the area. A mafia don lion, at that. He was out of place, this was predator territory, a small lamb didn't belong here. Passerby's gave him looks, maybe that of confusion, disapproval, or even hunger. But he was determined, ringing the bell with a near stern face.

Nearly stern, because how was a 5'0 white, fluffy-haired sheep that near covered his eyes with his equally fluffy tail that twitched as he waited rather impatiently,  supposed to be taken seriously? Cute, would make for a good meal maybe.

Probably why it wasn't often believed that he was a reporter for a popular news station. While herbivores did often have jobs like this, they didn't dare venture into the dirty work, such as interviewing a lion about yet another recent disappearance. No, they kept to the weather and brighter topics.

Which Briar of course found absolutely stupid. Someone had to stand up to the creatures that used them as if they were playthings, food, ragdolls.

It was probably a foolish plan. Even if he found evidence, no one would listen, too busy trying to keep themselves "safe" and away from harm.

The man near jumped when the the creaky gates opened, letting him inside. A Butler had come to see him in, a wolf hybrid. Despite them being way smaller than a lion, he seemed to tower over the lamb. They didn't speak, just quietly glaring down at him.

"Pleased to meet your acquaintance too," Briar scoffed. "Would you mind leading me to the Don? I'd like to have a word with him."

"Who are you and what's your business?" The wolf drawled lowly, seemingly unamused in the slightest.

"My name is Briar Halls, I'm a reporter and I'd like to do a short interview with your overseer, Reuben Griffin, if he doesn't mind. I called in about a week ago to his assistant? They gave me the okay yesterday."

"Ah, he did mention something about dessert." The omnivore sneered, licking his chops. The fact that it may have not even been a joke made him sick.

"Not very professional of you, really." Briar kept his cool, waiting for the wolf to lead the way. Which he did, seemingly reluctantly though, opening the doors to the huge mansion's entrance. The wolf left him in what Briar guessed to be a parlor, silently motioning for him to take a seat.

Briar found himself sitting there for what seemed like forever. Probably more like twenty minutes, but it felt that way. He stared into the furnace, the soft pops and crackles of the fire calming him. The sheep had near dozed off when he heard the sound of something heavy, something huge walking his way. If he were any other sheep he might've been shaking when a huge shadow was cast over them, knowing well it was Reuben.

The lion came round, sitting on the lounge across from him. "Well good morning young man~" a grin spread on his bronze face, displaying his huge canines, and maybe then Briar started rethinking his whole decision of coming here. That mouth could rip him apart at any given moment, and judging by the ripped body of the enormous man that was not very will hidden with his robe, it would only take seconds for him to be nothing more than lamb chops.

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