Sleepy Fox Hollow damn the dark, damn the light

Clarence pinned the man down, growling and breathing heavily. The crowds were roaring, the metal was clanging as they cheered and slammed their fists against the fence barring him from the outside world. His vision blurred around the edges and his chest ached - why was he unable to breathe properly?

Now would be the time where the crowd demanded blood. He was supposed to kill the man beneath him, tear his throat out and make his death a spectacle. 

But he didn't.

The boy stepped back on unsteady feet, numbness overtaking his body. A hush settled over the crowd, and when Clarence looked up, the fence was gone. The concrete floors were replaced with grass, the roof replaced with light blue sky. 

It really was a beautiful day. 

Blood coated his neck crimson and splattered the grass grotesquely. Clarence paid it no mind. Staggering backward, he settled down on his haunches, still trying to draw breath into his lungs. 

His exhale was a wheezing sound, wet and strained. 

But he couldn't hear the crowd anymore. There was no fence, no cage, no collars or concrete. 

He'd gotten out. 

Maybe it was always going to end bloody for him. Maybe there was some sick sort of fate that would never allow him to fully escape the violence. But... he hadn't drawn blood this time. 

That had to mean something... right?

Everything had slowed down, or... maybe it just felt like it had. Clarence sank down onto his stomach, muzzle resting on the bracelet around his forelimb. He couldn't hear it clinking. 

Would he be missed? @Valour would certainly be alright without him, but... perhaps Clarence's life had had some meaning, somewhere. The spotted boy couldn't see it, now - couldn't see anything, anymore. His vision had faded into darkness and his breathing grew stuttered, rattling in his chest. He was intimately familiar with that sound - he knew what it meant. 

And he was scared, but he was kind of happy, too. He wasn't trapped in a cage. He wasn't cold, or in pain, and he didn't have people screaming at him. His final moments weren't spent in terror and agony on a cold, concrete floor.

No, Clarence's last breath would be drawn while he lay on soft grass, with the sun warming his fur. 

;-;