A muzzle. They had to put a damn muzzle on me.

The shitty metal dug into the back of my head and into my face. I didn't get why this was even necessary. I had two guards who were at least double my size and weight, so I really didn't pose a threat. Not visibly anyways. And it wasn't like I was gonna go mental in the middle of an airport. Even despite me being feral and all.

People kept staring at me as they walked by. I would look at me too. The black one-piece with the white numbers, C41, on the chest was unmistakable. I was no longer a minor, but an adult.

It didn't matter I hadn't actually bitten anyone since I was like five years old. The muzzle had been a must. And so had the chains around my ankles and wrists. Surprisingly I hadn't gotten a collar too. What a treat.

I glanced up at the screens one of my guards had been eyeing for a while. It looked boring. Just a bunch of numbers and words I didn't understand. The numbers were easy, the words weren't.

The guard next to me cleared his throat, and I looked back down at my trainers. Had to keep my feral eyes off the normal people.

I was getting transferred from the youngster's facility in Ireland to the adult one in Scotland. Which also meant I got to leave prison for some hours.

And I got to look at people. I couldn't help but smile when a small boy grabbed a stuffed toy off the rack and put it in his pocket. His gaze landed on me, and he was quick to put the toy back again. He disappeared in a crowd of people almost stampeding through the halls.

Everyone kept looking at a little rectangle that I didn't understand, and their clothes were... Odd. Some wore completely black clothes and had piercings all over. Some were very colourful and even had very colourful hair.

I wondered what style I'd have if I wasn't in prison. I kind of liked the people who were extra. Who looked original. The piercings and tattoos. I mean, people had tattoos in prison and made them there too, but they looked nothing like the walking art some of these people were wearing.

A guy caught my eyes and held them for a long minute. He looked "normal". His clothes weren't anything to take note of, but the rest of him was. Olive skin, black waves of hair sculpted on top of his head, and dark blue eyes. He was massive, and he reminded me of one of my guards. That was until I realised he was one of the guards. Undercover. I should have known. I had seen him briefly at the prison. And then he kind of just disappeared. I should've known though, I wasn't only followed by the two guards beside me. Being as feral as I supposedly was meant there would, of course, be more than just the two. And this one had just caught me staring at something other than my shoes.

Shit. I wanted to kick myself in the head for being this stupid.

He stalked forward and stopped right in front of me. He bent over, forcing me to either lean back in my seat or stay very close to his face.

I leaned back. They had told me before departure they would drug me if I didn't behave, and I hated being drugged.

"Eyes down, C41," he growled quietly.

I kept my gaze locked with his for a second and then I looked down, making sure he knew I wasn't easily submitting to his bullshit, but still submissive enough. But not afraid. Never afraid.

"If I see you staring again, I'm going to have to drug you."

Surprisingly, he was the nicest one of them all. He wasn't very old, maybe 20 or 22. Straight out of the Academy of the Feral Investigation Bureau probably. Bird-guy. It was obvious from looking at his eyes and the way he moved. Everything was quick like a sparrow, and he could pin you down just by looking at you. Like some hawk, he would be over you before you could even think about breaking one of the many rules.

I had just broken one, and I didn't even get punished. They had to keep up appearances, I guess. A drugged feral was a good one for sure, but a submissive one was even better.

My stomach growled, and the Mountain sitting next to me glanced down.

"Keep it down," he said like I could control my body. I wanted to shoot him an angry look, but Bird-guy was still hovering over me like I was prey.

I kept my eyes fixed on my shoes again. Then I shifted uncomfortably, making the chains around my body clank together. Would I get reprimanded for that? I was just trying to not get a back-ache.

Nobody said anything, and the Mountain wasn't even looking at me. I dared a peek up at him and followed his gaze. He was staring at a dog-girl paying for a cup of coffee at a café. She was pretty. Typical dog-people, always drawn to each other. A pretty big weakness, if you ask me.

The guard next to me let out an annoyed sigh, and the Mountain turned his attention back to me. I was quick to avert my gaze before he caught me. My stomach protested again to the lack of food, making the Mountain growl back. I wanted to tell him, I couldn't help it, but the muzzle limited my jaw-movements. No talking for me.

Only looking around and sitting in a row of chairs, staring at the screens in a big hall. Shops lined the walls and blasted everyone with sales. I was bombarded with more colours than I could remember to have ever seen. I tried to look discreetly at this shiny thing dangling from the ceiling, but Bird-guy caught me. Shit. And my stomach protested again. He slowly closed his eyes and rubbed his jaw.

"We need to get some food," he said to the other guard.

The mute guard nodded and wandered off. I hoped he would get me something tasty until I remembered I was wearing a muzzle, and could basically only eat through a straw. Knowing them, they would get the burger joint across the hall to shove a burger in the blender and then make me eat it. Through a straw.

The guard returned with burgers and chips. He handed me a small paper bag of chips, and I looked down at them. This was going to be humiliating, but my stomach was making noises as soon as I caught the scent of deep-fried goodness. I couldn't remember the last time I had eaten chips.

But my hands were chained, and the shackles were connected to another chain around my waist, making it impossible for me to eat without bending over. And then I would have to shove the chips in between the wires of the muzzle. And then try to open my mouth enough for it to go in...

"Eat," Bird-guy said and moved his empty hand from his own bag to his mouth as if he was showing me how to do it.

I looked down again and fished a golden chip out of the bag, bent my back and tried to get it in my mouth. It was too short. The Mountain groaned at my pathetic attempt.

"Should we remove the muzzle?" he asked, sounding quite like an idiot. Bird-guy crouched in front of me, interlocking two fingers in the wires of the muzzle and pulled me close to his face.

"Try anything, and I mean anything, and I will shoot you in the head."

I didn't move, and I was sure to keep my eyes down. I just wanted the damn thing off. He unbuckled the straps on the back of my head and slowly removed the metal contraption from my face. I worked my jaw a bit, opening and closing my mouth.

Oh, the freedom of being able to open your mouth. Especially when you have two rather sharp canines digging into the inside of your lower lip. Running my tongue over the sore skin told me I was getting two nice blisters there.

I started slowly eating. I didn't know when I would get a chance to do this again, and I wanted to savour it. The taste of salt and fat filled me with a joy I didn't know existed. When I was done with the chips, I was handed a fried fish burger. I couldn't believe the mute guard bought me a fish burger. Me being a cat and all. Surprising the dog even thought about something like that.

I slowly sank my teeth into the soft bun, going through crunchy lettuce and then finally hitting the fantastic batter surrounding the fish. I was almost about to cry. This was the best meal I had ever had.

But I was not fast enough. The Mountain snatched the burger from my fingers and dropped it down into a paper bag. He then binned it in front of me. There was more than half a burger left there, now in the trash bin. I clenched my fists and tried not to get angry. Maybe if I behaved through this, they wouldn't put the muzzle back on me. I leaned back in my chair and looked down at my fingers, still shining from the grease.

It was still the best meal of my life, even if I only had a couple of bites. I would remember what the mute guard had done for me today. Store it away when I couldn't sleep. Positive things helped me sleep, and there weren't a lot of positive things, so I took what I could get.

Like remembering when a friend had gotten two rolls for breakfast, and he decided to share it with me.

Or Simon. Simon had been positive too. He was one of my positive stowaways.

When I was 14, an organisation thought it would be a good idea to get the young ferals to interact with non-ferals so the ones who behaved would get a designated "study-buddy"." Simon and I did no studying. Mainly because I can't read. Never learned it in prison. School was not a thing there, and I was the youngest prisoner they had ever had. Nobody knew what to do with me, so they pretty much just left me to the mercy of the older prisoners.

D32 had taught me how to pick locks and build small weapons out of anything, for example.

But Simon. Simon was positive. His once-a-week visits ended the day he kissed me. No touching the ferals, because maybe we were infectious.

He told me about the world outside, and how he wished he could show me. Then he had put his hand on mine, and we had looked into each other's eyes. And I had willed the distance between us away, just as much as he had.

I never saw him again. I wondered what he did now. If he had a girlfriend or boyfriend, or maybe he was married. He had been a bit older than me so it wouldn't surprise me if he had found a pretty bird or something. I had decided to file that memory under a positive, even with the end not being that. I had to appreciate the little things.

C59 was another positive stowaway. C59 taught me everything there was to know about being a cat. He was transferred to the adult prison years ago, and I was kind of hoping he would be at the one I was getting transferred to.

He made sure nobody messed with me. I missed him. He was the closest thing I had ever had to a friend, even though he would beat me up sometimes. He would hit me hard, so none of the guards could ever hit me harder. He had made me tough. Nothing could hurt me after what C59 had done to me.

When he was transferred he hugged me. It was the first time he had hugged anybody, I think.

I tried to pick myself up. This was not positive thinking, and sitting here frowning and moping was feral behaviour.

Bird-guy looked down at me. I was staring at into empty space, but I caught him looking out of the corner of my eye. I was rolling my jaw. I could kind of unhook it and make it crack, and I always did it without noticing, when I was thinking.

He pulled out the muzzle, grabbed a fistful of my hair and put it back on me without a word. I was close to doing something. He had caught me completely off guard, but I stopped myself. I needed to not get drugged and letting Birdie here put the muzzle back on without a fight seemed like the right choice.

We finally boarded the plane. I was the last one to board it, and it was a commercial airline, meaning normal people were on it too. And I was sitting in the front. The first two rows on both sides of the aisle were empty, all for me. I couldn't help but feel special.

The stewardesses gave me a terrified glance. I didn't look back. I slumped down in my seat and tried to not look scary. I didn't want them complaining about me just because I looked scary.

Birdie dropped down in the seat next to me and leaned back. He looked tired. He stretched his long legs, enjoying the leg space the front seats were getting. He was tall. Like 6'6'' or something. I felt like a kid next to him. Well, I was a kid next to him. Skinny and not very tall. Barely six feet. "Barely" being a very generous word here. More like barely 5'7''.

I wished I had gotten a window seat so I could look at the ground below us get smaller. I dared to turn my head and look. The seat next to the window was empty, making it easy for me to see. The Mountain and the Mute were sitting behind me, ready to tackle me if I went after the other passengers.

Birdie didn't say anything about me looking out of the window at take-off. I could feel the pressure in my ears building, and the engines were making a terrible noise.

I wondered how many people died in plane crashes a year. I was about to ask Birdie when I remembered the stupid muzzle. I settled back in the seat and started staring at the wall. The ride wouldn't be long. We would soon land in Edinburgh airport. A transport would pick us up there, drive for a couple of hours into the highlands and then I would be at my new home.

Yay.