The horizon darkened in the city. Civilians started to turn on the lights in their windows, dotting the city with a plethora of twinkling lights. Xenon sat on top of the building, examining everything below. He was looking for the signs of… something. He didn’t know what yet, but he figured it would happen tonight.

            “If only there were more clues,” he muttered, lifting a hand to his muzzle. He gently stroked the whiskers on his lip, feeling their tingling sensation with each wave of his finger. “I don’t think I could stand this for more than a month.”

            “Really? I kinda like it,” a familiar voice whispered. Startled, Xenon turned to face the newcomer. In the window of the nearby building, he saw a rather tall, portly figure standing in the darkness. Once it noticed he was staring, it kicked off the window sill, landing on the rooftop with a large thud.

            “Makes the fat man more mobile?” Xenon asked, trying to display a hint of teasing in his voice.

            “Hardy har har.” The character retorted, rolling their eyes in disdain. “What’s it like actually having a mouth? Biting off more than you can chew? Which is honestly just… fruits.”

           “Sassy today, aren’t you, Sarge?” Xenon grimaced, looking up at the portly rabbit that used to be a werewolf.

            “Only as sassy as you’re being,” Sarge said, sticking out his tongue. “Saw you were up here… thought I’d come say hi.”

            “Company is always appreciated. Stake outs can be… awfully dull.” Xenon put a hand to his chin. He felt short strands of fur brush against his cheek, making him recoil. “But no, I don’t have a mouth still. Seems this mystery poison only changes certain physical characteristics. Selective, if you will.”

            “Meaning someone wanted to turn people… into rabbits?” Sarge asked, lifting up his hands. “Okay, well, why do I now only have four fingers instead of five and you still have three?”

            “Can’t give me what I didn’t have to begin with, I suppose?” Xenon lifted his hand, examining it. It was odd to him to see his fingers were mostly the same while Sarge’s lacked one digit and were stubbier to boot. “What poisoned you?”

            “Salad. I’d be damned if I let a good salad go to waste,” Sarge snickered.

            “Wait, you actually knew what poisoned you?” Xenon looked over at Sarge, incredulous toward the werewolf’s words.

            “Speculation, really. Salad tasted off, even as far as a potentially bad salad goes. Last I checked, a ranch dressing doesn’t taste like cherries. Color was off but… I assumed it was one of those weird pink dressings I’ve been seeing around.”

            “Emulsified dragon fruit, right?” Xenon asked.

            “Think so.” Sarge shrugged. “But that’s beside the point. How did you get poisoned?”

            “Injection. Not as tasty as your assailant’s method, but effective I suppose. Got me in the back while I was walking to the office.” Xenon lifted a hand to rub his back where the injection happened. After the assault, the rest of what happened was a blur, as he was in too much pain to recall much information. He never realized that antennae turning into ears could be so terribly uncomfortable.

            “Explains why you were out of commission for a week. Only thought to come here cuz this is your usual stake out point.” Sarge sat down next to Xenon and placed a hand on his back. “How long you been here?”

            “Hours. Since the sun went down. Assailant hit me at the stroke of midnight, so they must go under the cover of night,” Xenon nodded.

            “And their attack frequency has been every single night for the past two weeks. If you counted mine and yours, that would be the Monday and Wednesday of last week.” Sarge lifted a hand and stared at it.

            “I was the first. But why? Why did they target me?” Xenon wanted to question this more, but he was running into a dead end. He’d run into multiple of those with this case. “It’s too exactly on my schedule for it to be a mere coincidence.”

            “Probably trying to get you out of the way… or from my experience, just wanting to experiment on you.” Sarge’s voice grew somber as he peaked over the edge of the building. “’bout the eighth time I’ve been forcibly T.F.ed into something.”

            “T.F.ed?” Xenon asked.

            “Transformed. Werewolf, mutated werewolf, mutated androgynous werewolf, mutated idiot werewolf, mutated idiot werewolf with a penchant for eating anything in sight…. The list could continue.”

            “There’s three more to go. Seems finite.” Xenon said, taking his eyes off the street to look at Sarge. “What of your jacket, though?”

            “Jacket?” Sarge asked.

            “Isn’t that a special device of sorts that cloaks you as… what was its name? Chunky? Chornbee?”

            “Chomby?” Sarge asked. “I mean, I guess? It really is a transformation, though I don’t mind. Been getting used to it.”

            “It has a time limit, right?” Xenon asked.

            “Yeah. Two hours. If I don’t unzip the hoodie by that time, I’m stuck like that forever.” Sarge looked over at Xenon and smiled. “Of course, I know what you’re going to say. No, I don’t think it’s too risky to use. If I get stuck as Chomby, then I’m stuck as Chomby. It’s not like I hate being a big, round, huggable… doohickey thingy with a penchant for music. It’s a lot of fun. Makes dances livelier!”

            “Much more exhilarating than a rabbit, I’d reckon?” Xenon asked. “Rabbits and Wolves are mammalian, so there’s not much difference.”

            “Field of vision, I guess? Eyes are more aimed toward the side of my head now… but I’ll manage. Got used to it after a few days,” Sarge shrugged again. “Thematically, it fits, though!”

            “Why’s that?” Xenon asked, turning his attention back to the road below as he saw someone walking under a streetlight with a bag of groceries.

            “Well, werewolves don’t eat salad… conventionally, anyway. I do. Now I’m a rabbit. Eating salad seems to be a given.” Sarge huffed, bending his leg so he could rest an arm on his knee.

            “I thought you were going to say Year of the Rabbit, actually,” Xenon admitted. “I don’t think you should be confined to only eat one thing if you have the ability to eat what you want.”

            “Tell that to everyone else,” Sarge said with a dissatisfied smirk. “I was an oddity to them on all fronts. Werewolves aren’t fat, werewolves aren’t vegetarian, werewolves don’t wear clothes, werewolves don’t enjoy being surrounded by people… werewolves aren’t biologically hermaphrodites through a bunch of weird mutations.”

            “I get the vegetarian thing for rabbits, but the rest seems to be unrelated.” Xenon lifted a hand to scratch his ear. “Ever tell those guys to mind their own business?”

            “Nah. I let them have their fun. Worst they do is poke my belly… and give me belly rubs… and ask me when I’m due,” Sarge shook his head. “Well, since we’ve been turned into rabbits during the year of the rabbit, do you think we’ll have good luck?”

            “Sounds a bit silly. Almost like Zodiac signs. What was yours before now?”

            “Was and still is a dog,” Sarge said.

            “Oh… that’s coincidental.” Xenon looked away.

            “Very,” Sarge agreed, looking in a separate direction. “So, what does this guy look like?”

            “The subject change lets me know I may have upset you,” Xenon looked back at Sarge. “You know I am honored to know you, right? Aside from Tony, you’re the only person who’s not afraid of me.”

            “Hard to be afraid of a guy like you,” Sarge said, still looking away. “You look like a giant grasshopper or something, but you have the personality of a cinnamon roll and smell like lavender.”

            “And you are someone who has a keen sense of observation and has a level head in rough situations,” Xenon said. “You also have the personality of a cinnamon roll made by a cinnamon roll… and whether werewolf or rabbit, you look like a big, soft, squishy cinnamon roll anyway.”

            Sarge put a hand to his mouth to prevent himself from laughing. “Do people actually say that about me?”

            “More often than you’d think. Of the two of us, you’re the one who brings people in with your charisma. Everyone talks about you… just wish more would think better of me…” Xenon sighed, watching another person walk by in the dark.

            “Does it matter what they think? You get the job done no matter what. People come to you because you’ve got skill and reputation. That should be admirable, right?” Sarge asked. “Besides, with the serial rabbit-transformations happening, you don’t have to cloak yourself anymore. Maybe try being yourself more? Now’s as good a time as any to try.”

            “Do you really think they’d like me?” Xenon asked.

            “Why wouldn’t they like you?” Sarge asked, looking down at the street again. “I like you.”

            “You like everyone Sar-” Xenon started.

            “HEY! I think we found our perpetrator!” Sarge hissed.

            “What?” Xenon asked, looking around the streets. Sure enough, he could see a figure slinking down the street… toward the woman carrying groceries.

            “I’ll see you down there, Xenon,” Sarge said, immediately bounding off the rooftop onto the wall of the adjacent building.

            “I’ll keep an eye out until you get to him, then I’ll be down,” Xenon nodded.

            Sarge smiled. Lifting a hand, he gave Xenon a salute before letting go of the wall and falling. Xenon heard a thud, followed by another thud, then another. In a few moments, he saw Sarge bounding down the street toward the woman and the assailant while zipping up his hoodie. As he saw Sarge grab the hood of his jacket, he noticed Sarge’s shape began to widen and expand. Sarge then pulled the hoodie over his snout as his body continued to shape into a strange, green and black creature. The creature put its hands to its ears, pulled them back… and dashed forward at blinding speed, covering the ground between the creature and the assailant within mere seconds.

            Xenon took a deep breath as he stood up. “Thanks, Sarge.” Taking a step toward the edge of the building, Xenon looked at the street below. Seeing that there was no one underneath him, he jumped off the building and fell the ten stories to the ground below. Landing on his feet, he felt his backbone absorb the impact of the fall – a perk he was thankful he kept before being turned into a rabbit. Once he could stand up straight, he started to run in the direction the creature and assailant had gone, ready to crack the case of the Year of the Rabbit.

Seems I wanted to draw something to celebrate year of the rabbit? As such, have Sarge and Xenon as rabbits! :D

Artwork/Story/Xenon/Sarge (C) Me