#drug trafficker

[blueiscoool]

Drug War 

Mexican forces firing from a helicopter against Sinaloa sicarios following the arrest of El Chapo’s son Ovidio Guzman this morning.

Ovidio Guzman, son of El Chapo and alleged major fentanyl trafficker, arrested in Mexico

Ovidio Guzmán, a top leader of the Sinaloa Cartel and the son of Joaquin "El Chapo" Guzmán, the notorious drug lord currently serving a life sentence in a U.S. prison, has been arrested by authorities in Mexico, the country's secretary of defense, Luis Cresencio Sandoval, announced Thursday afternoon.

Guzmán was captured by Mexican armed forces in an overnight raid in a small town just outside the city of Culiacán, the capital of the Mexican state of Sinaloa.

He was transported by military aircraft from Culiacán back to Mexico City late morning on Thursday. Officials said the operation had been in the works for more than six months.

[petnews2day]

Drug dog found 18 bags of meth in central Nebraska traffic stop, sheriff’s office says

New Post has been published on https://petn.ws/sPcwq

Drug dog found 18 bags of meth in central Nebraska traffic stop, sheriff’s office says

Jessica RathgenCourtesy: Merrick County Sheriff’s Office LINCOLN, Neb. (KLKN) — A woman was caught with 18 bags of methamphetamine in central Nebraska, authorities say. The Merrick County Sheriff’s Office said Sunday that it pulled over 42-year-old Jessica Rathgen on Highway 30. A deputy and a drug-sniffing dog found the meth — plus some marijuana and […]

See full article at https://petn.ws/sPcwq #DogNews #CentralNebraska, #CourtDocuments, #Crime, #Deputy, #Dog, #DriverSLicense, #DrugBust, #DrugCharges, #DrugDog, #DrugParaphernalia, #DrugTrafficker, #Drugs039, #HallCounty, #Highway30, #JessicaRathgen, #Marijuana, #MerrickCountySheriffSOffice, #Meth, #Methamphetamine, #MisdemeanorWarrant, #Nebraska, #SheriffSOffice

[cup-o-stars]

The Scoliosis Brothers.

I have like two longer comics that will get done who knows when, but they aren't half as funny tbh. Corazon being unreasonably sensitive and petty about Doflamingo is my bread and butter I think.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Passion for Fashion Part 3

Danny nervously twirls his thumbs as Dan paces before him, mumbling insults to the Waynes under his breath. They were supposed to go third in the walkway line, as it was supposed to be in alphabetical order, but just as the computation was going to begin, a disaster struck.

Tim Drake-Wayne had been kidnapped. In broad daylight, as the teenage CO-CEO was getting out of his limo, a group of men broke through the crowd, swinging guns around and demanding everyone to get on the ground and give them their valuables.

Of course, there were security who attempted to gain control of the situation, but it seemed that three of their newest hires were traitors and in on the heist. A shoot-out was ensured.

Drake-Wayne had been taken in the chaos, and Bruce Wayne had passed out from worry. He and the rest of his kids were on their way to a hospital- a secret location to deter further kidnappings of the remaining Waynes- and the first runway of the competition was canceled.

Danny hadn't seen anything from the model changing room, but Dan had forgotten his make-up bag in the front entry and had gone back for it while Danny changed. He had been front and center when the whole thing went down.

"Who just lets themselves get taken like that!?" Dan huffs, practically spitting fire. According to the ghost, Tim Drake-Wayne's actions were an act, and the teenager had been able to get away from his kidnappers but didn't.

Dan found his nonaction insulting since it paused his fashion show.

"Um, look around you? Situation awareness." Danny tells him, gesturing to the cage they had been shoved into. While the people had been preoccupied with Tim Drake-Wayne's kidnapping, a second group of men had gone in through the backdoor and taken all the models.

Danny had thought it was the staff moving them until he noticed a few people crying as they were placed into vans. In his defense, most people aren't used to seeing someone armed like he is, so the gun-waving hadn't tipped him off.

Dan had joined him later when he followed the coordinator- another traitor- to the vans, and his counterpart had only gotten upset when they took his make-up bag.

"Please, this is just metal." Dan rolls his eyes, bending the bars and straightening them out again to prove his point. Danny doesn't mention the electric buzz the bars release, as neither is really affected by the shock. It's more of an annoying light show. "Sides, it's not like we're human. Not like them."

He tilts his chin to where other models sob in their cages below. They are all waiting for their new owners to pick them up. At least, that's what Danny was able to gather from the men's taunts. They were taken by human traffickers, who had buyers look at the competition lineup and pick which model they wanted before the actual kidnapping.

Danny and Dan were in such high demand they would be sold at an auction that would take place while the rest of their pals kept the Bats busy. Danny had no idea who the Bats were or why they would save them instead of the police.

"Tell the whole world why don't you?" Danny hisses, twirling his thumbs more " If they found out what we are we could be turned over to this world version of the Guys In White."

"Oh no, I'm shaking in my human boots." Dan rolls his eyes. He resumes his pacing. "If the Waynes had taken this seriously, we could have been seeing the results of the judge's panel already."

"Dan, this is a little more important than your fashion Obsession."

"Excuse you, my Obsession is a medical condition," Dan huffs, sliding down the cage bars, and for a brief second, his hair flickered to white before it settled back into black. A flash of pain crosses his face. "My core is killing me."

Danny winces. "Right, sorry, that was insensitive. How about I steal you some paper and pens so you can design a ball gown?"

"I like that."

Danny turns to the bars, bending them open and closing them behind him. He carefully makes his way across the giant shipping crates, to an office at the top right corner.

They are at the docks, hidden somewhere in a warehouse among many crates that will be shipped out, and Danny is honestly a little offended they have yet to be found. Sure, the kidnappers had driven through the sewers on a strangely built road that led them here, but surely someone would have noticed the apparent fact the van disappeared at a fake dead alley?

Weren't there cameras in almost every corner of the city? Dan had warned Danny about them while doing his Obsession-driven research, and both agreed not to Go Ghost while in public due to them.

Now, they could escape, but Danny wasn't kidding about the Guys in White or whatever their equivalent was here. He would rather know what level of competence they have before he makes any rash moves.

Danny also wants to see his fellow models' buyers, and he would like to have a word with them. His ghost Obsession may not be protection- much to the shock of many- but Danny has always had a moral compass that pointed to protecting others around him.

Dan knew and respected this about him, so his counterpart was willing to sit and wait for the buyers. He's just a little angsty since it disrupted his obsession.

Danny grimly peeks into the office window when he sees the coordinator talking on a phone. There doesn't seem to be anyone else around, so he carefully opens the door and creeps up behind the man.

"-If you ever want to see your son again," The man is saying, smirking. Danny can't see it due to the man facing away from him, but he can hear it in his voice.

On the desk is a laptop that repeats what he said only, the sound sounds robotic and unrecognizable. Is that a voice changer? "I suggest you ask Batman to find your boy before it's too late."

Batman? The man they were supposed to help save his humanity?

Danny knows it's a risk, but this is too much of a chance to pass up. He carefully picks up the office chair and brings it down hard on the disgusting man's head. The coordination lets out a chocked grunt of pain, but he's out like a light when he hits the ground. His phone flies across the floor, and a voice is heard speaking urgently.

Danny ties the man to the bolted-down desk using zip ties- the same ones they had used on him and the rest earlier that day, before picking up the phone.

"Hello? Is this Batman?" Danny asks, jumping slightly when the laptop repeats him in a creepy robotic voice. "Wait hold on, I think I can get rid of this voice thingy."

"...what?" A man asks over the phone, but Danny pays him no mind as he tries to click some boxes.

"Hello, testing one two three," Danny says, wincing when the voice changer makes him sound high and unnaturally squeaky. He sounds like he's trying to audition for Alvin and the Chipmunks. "Hello? Hello? Wait, I think I got it."

"Who are you? Where is Tim?" The man asks, and Danny almost rolls his eyes. He hates it when someone interrupts him while he's working with tech.

"Wait-there it is! Can you hear me alright? Do I sound normal?"

"....I can hear you."

"Awesome! Are you Batman, and if so, have you considered the importance of mental health activities? Like hugging your kids once a day? That really boosts your serotonin and dopamine levels." Danny asks, attempting to channel Jazz as much as he can. There is muffled sound across the phone line, like someone is attempting to smother a laugh.

"No, this is Bruce Wayne." Mr. Wayne says after a moment pause, "You have my son?"

"Oh," Danny tries not to sound as disappointed as he feels, but he may have failed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Wayne I don't think your son is here. I think they were using him to distract you and the police of the missing models."

There is a strange lake of sound on the other line before Mr. Wayne responds. "Can you tell me who I am speaking to?"

"Danny Fenton. I was one of the models that was taken." Danny says, then he realizes the cops must be listening in because that always happens in movies; he lowers his voice and tries to sound in shock. "I think we're in a warehouse? I'm not sure, but I was in a cage when I woke up. They said they're going to sell us. I escaped, but there were guards everywhere, so I tried hiding in the office and heard the man you were speaking to come in. I hit him with a chair."

"Mr.Fenton," A new man says suddenly, "I know this is a terrifying situation, and I-"

"Are you Batman?"

"....No, son, I'm Commissioner Gordon"

"Oh."

"Do you want to speak to Batman?"

"Yes."

"Can I ask why?"

"I need to tell him to hug his kids."

Danny waits a few seconds for a response, but he hears nothing, not even the wind. They must have muted themselves. He leans on the desk, mindful to give the kidnapper a solid kick to make sure he's still out, and glancing over to the window to make sure there aren't any guards coming his way.

"Mr. Fenton, did they give you anything strange?" Commissioner Gordon asks

Danny thinks for a moment before humming. "They gave all of us something in a needle. I don't know what it was, but it felt funny. My brother has been acting weird since he got it."

"Okay, you're doing good. " Commissioner Gordon sounds like he is frowning but the words cause something in Danny's core to pur."Okay, son, everything is going to be alright. I need you to do something for me. Every Gotham warehouse has a serial number; you can find it in the main office on the power box. Do you see the box?"

Danny glances around until he sees the small little green box. He hurries over to it, throwing the door open. "I found it."

"Good. Can you read me the number?"

Danny reads them off as quickly as he can. Once all ten digits are within the police's hands he asks again. "Do you know if Batman partakes in his kid's interests?"

"I can ask him for you."

"Would you? That would be great. It's important to let people know you care about them by showing an interest in what they are passionate about. My brother Dan really likes making clothes, and even though I don't think I can model, I do it for him, you know?"

"You're a good brother."

"Thank you.....I'm tired Mr. Gordon." Danny says suddenly eyelids becoming heavy. He slides down the wall a lot like Dan did before.

"I'm sorry to hear that but I need you to keep talking to me, Mr. Fenton."

"Batman should tell his kids he loves them. His love language may be an act of service, but Nightwings' is words of affirmation. Nightwing needs to be told he's loved."

"Mr. Fenton! Stay awake for me! Mr.Fenton!" Danny hears someone yelling, but his core is purring even more now, and the sound is luring him to sleep. Suddenly he thinks of his counterpart in the cage waiting for his paper and pen.

"I have to go. I promised Dan I would get him some stuff so he could design some clothes. Bye-Bye."

"No! Don't hang up-!"

Danny drops the cell phone after pressing the end call button and ignores it when it rings again. He hurries over to the desk, looking for paper, but finds the table lacking. Thankfully, an open suitcase has sheets that he borrowed and a few pens.

He takes them all and runs back over the crates to where Dan is. Once he arrives, he notices many models are no longer distressed. All of them are smiling with a dazed look, and a few are even giggling. He waves at a few as he hurries back to his cage.

Dan is there, muttering under his breath and twisting his fingers in the air as if he were drawing in the sky. Danny bends the bars and holds up his prize. "I got the stuff!"

"Thank the ancients! I was never going to finish Mr. Hot scales suit without it!" Dan cheers, turning one of the sheets over to a clean side. He throws his whole body on the ground, using the smooth surface to start his ball gown.

Danny watches him for a moment before his purring core is too much. Dan reaches out to grip his leg, enclosing it in his warm palm and that's all Danny needs before he's fast asleep.

Dan continues to draw for a few more minutes before he, too, is overcome with sleep. Neither notices Red Hood or Robin bursting into the warehouse, guns and swords blazing, just as the buyers arrive. They or any of the models are unaware of the smackdown that happens until everyone involved with the scheme is behind bars.

Robin finds their cage, stepping through the bent bars and pausing at the sheets of paper scattered across the slumbering teenagers. He flips one incredibly designed ballgown only to have his eyes widen at what's written down.

"Robin to Batman," he says, staring at the paper and pressing his communicator. "I have a complete list of everyone who was buying today and past buyers. We can dismantle an entire ring with this."

"Good work, Robin."

"It wasn't I who found it. It was the Fentons."

".....Are they hurt?"

"Drugged but otherwise unharmed."

"Good."

There is a pause before Nightwing speaks up "Tell me you love me B."

"No"

Danny Fenton's eyes briefly open to stare into a surprised Robin's eyes. "Tell him Batman his humanity is at risk. Says the Ghost King."

"They gave him the good shit," Spolior laughs, having heard Fenton through the coms.

Elsewhere, Tim Drake-Wayne stares at Killer Croc aka Waylon Jones who is replaying the video of Dan Fenton catcalling Waylon from his cage right after the fashion designer was dosed with high levels of morphine.

"Hey Papi, why don't you come up here and let me dress you up in the proper wrapping for a walking gift like you?"

"Hey...hey are you from the EverBurning tribe? Cause those are the hotest legs and tail I have ever seen!"

"Mr.Hot Scales, I promise Danny is the only ally of FarFrozen. I'm team EverBurning all the way! Kiss me!"

"What the actual fuck?" Tim asks, and Waylon nods.

"I have no idea, kid. The first time any of my merchandise flirts with me."

[fuckyeahchinesefashion]

OP: Check out. The fully-sexual charged cinematic movement design.

Cnetizens: How did the director come up with the idea to have him kneel on a playing card, adding so much aesthetic energy, is that some kind of genius?

[thehmn]

Turns out I’ve been illegally trafficked drugs across borders when I brought my CBD oil with me to Norway.

Had a slightly worrying conversation with a Norwegian who was very upset that she can’t buy CDB oil legally in her home country and I’m sitting there like “I have a vial in my suitcase right now…Oh no, am I the lamest drug trafficker in the world?”

It didn’t even occur to me that I could be doing something illegal because you can buy CBD oil in fucking make-up stores in Denmark.

I understand her pain though. CBD oil has been extremely helpful managing my insomnia and anxiety (Funny thing is, I bought it to help with insomnia but noticed a change in my anxiety levels first. I didn’t even know I had anxiety until I didn’t have it anymore) and I wouldn’t be functioning half as well as I do now without it.

[moistrodent]

I love how Hazbin Hotel brushed over Angel Dust’s drug use, because in the eyes of the show drug use isn’t something very traumatic, leads to much more vulnerable to human and sex trafficking, SA, and abusive relationships. Drug use is very complicated but in Hazbin Hotel Angel Dust’s drug problem is mentioned like…four times and one of those three times was a fucking joke. Drug use is often very misrepresented in media, also being an addict doesn’t make you a bad person, drug use shouldn't be criminalised (it makes it much harder to seek help), and rehab shouldn’t expensive as fuck. And also Angel Dust’s name? Weird as shit. That’s like naming your OC crack. It’s treating Angel Dust like he’s only his addiction wich is really horrible representation for obvious reasons. Vivziepop does not know how to represent serious topics, she either uses it for fetish bait or an actual literal joke. Also his name? Doesn’t make any sense. The effects of PCP were discovered over ten years after Angel Dust canonically died. It’s so clear Vivzepop didn’t do any research on the topic she’s trying to represent, it takes five seconds to google this shit.

[89ad]

[batboopp]

i like ghostmaker and batman as narrative foils not in the “ghostmaker is incapable of forming relationships with or feeling empathy for others, therefore batman is better” way but in the fact that ghostmaker IS better. literally. more stronger mentally, emotionally, physically. stronger in the way he carries himself and how he sees himself and how he treats others (depending on your definition of strong) and yet, he’s still so so miserable. he can lie to himself all he wants, or ignore everything but blatant fact, but it still doesn’t change the fact that even though he follows batman’s “I work alone” rule better than the actual batman ever could, he still loses to bruce in some way. bruce was willing to shoot someone for khoa, willing to follow and stay, and khoa straight up couldn’t handle it. therefore, he is worse in the one thing that makes batman, batman. that nothing will ever tie him down, no matter what. not Bruce or his city or his rouges.

except, that’s not entirely true anymore, is it? because this time, he does stay. he meets Bruce’s kids and indulges bruce in banter and playfighting and even fake ‘dates’. he stays, and leads, batman inc. and he does it considerably better than batman. of course, he still kills people. he can barely stand batmans kids and the feeling is entirely mutual. he still treats others as expendable next to his mission. but, he stays. he stays with bruce, with someone, in some way this time. he’s learning, he’s willing to learn.

[ineffably-human]

Guillermo must read like a Southern Gothic post to his entire family.

Imagine your only kid has been married to his work in food service/the railroad/food service at the railroad? for fifteen years and it's the reason he never sees you. One time he came home and said he could get you a mini-fridge from his friend who was once dead but it's fine now. He left to go get it and didn't come back. Some people are filming the whole time.

Another time he disappeared to London for a year, and when he came back he finally let you see his house. It's a trash-covered mansion with a tree through the ceiling. He appears to live there by himself. He's exchanged his sweaters for Versace and a watch that's more expensive than God. He tells you he's gay, which you knew, even though you've never talked about it and he's been sending you photos of some woman you haven't met (you think?) for years. Some people are again filming, this time for his grandma's birthday, except there's no cake or presents and you never see a copy of the videotape.

He bought you a house last year. But the first time he's come for your birthday in three or four years he doesn't bring a gift, and spends the time frantically whispering to someone on the phone. The people are still filming him. It's been like five years of them filming him. He's in the sweaters again.

He tells you he can't say why or what's going to change for him, but he can never see you again. You ask if what he's doing is making him happy but don't give him time to answer. It's the first direct question you've really asked him all evening. Then you ask him where his crucifix is. He needs one, it'll help. It's really important that he have one, and he keeps losing them. So scatterbrained. This is what will make it better.

(You don't see his face as you force the chain around his neck. You don't see him disappearing before your eyes. Was it always this way, with you two, or did it happen over time?)

You casually tell the cousin who's been lecturing him all night that he comes by weekly now to say goodbye forever. Your sweet boy, so dramatic, even as a child. So mysterious. You just don't know what he's thinking. But he'll be back.

[illyrianbitch]

god political correctness is ruining our society, like wdym people cant sell y/n to one direction anymore?

[ophilosoraptoro]

CONSPIRACY OF SILENCE [Banned Discovery Channel Documentary]

Before Epstein, there was Boys Town.

This documentary was pulled just before its broadcast date, in 1994. It was never aired.

[brekitten]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Danny Phantom, Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Danny Fenton & Jason Todd Characters: Jason Todd, Danny Fenton, Clark Kent, Lex Luthor Additional Tags: Fentonic 2024 (Danny Phantom), Danny Fenton Has a Space Ghost Core, Protective Jason Todd, dad jason todd, why is that not a tag, Kryptonite (DCU), Kryptonite is Rock Candy, Beta Read, Stardust - Freeform, Candies, Kid Danny Fenton, Adopted Danny Fenton, Crack Treated Seriously, One Shot Series: Part 20 of Cat Soulmates Fentonic 2024 Spoilers, Part 2 of All My Daydreams Summary:

Lex Luthor and Superman are fighting. Tiny little toddler Danny is there and decides to help his favorite superhero by eating the rock candy that seems to be hurting him.

Stardust | Candies

Day 20! Got this one done yesterday, so it wasn't panic written this time! Beta'd by the amazing @catnek-writing-things , give her some love yall!

I am determined to make her accept compliments, and I am stubborn. I will not give up. I refuse.

[brookiedaaroacecookie]

I love the idea that Uzi has the robot imitation of insomnia (basically she has difficulty getting into sleep mode) bc she’s an angsty teen, but then she finds ASMR and pirates the heck out of it. Then when she and N finally get to sleep together (for wholesome cuddle time and nothing else ofc get ur mind out of the gutter) she turns on ASMR to sleep and N is like, “idk what this is but if you like it I do!”.

[allthecanadianpolitics]

Ottawa’s police oversight board announced the sudden resignation of its chair Thursday after one of the chair’s immediate family members was charged in a major police operation targeting organized crime and drug trafficking in Ottawa. Gail Beck, who was appointed chair of Ottawa’s Police Services Board earlier this year on the recommendation of Ottawa Mayor Mark Sutcliffe, submitted her resignation after only seven months on the job. Beck’s resignation was submitted on the same day that Ottawa Police announced a slew of new criminal charges connected to a police operation that is being billed as the “largest drug bust” in Ottawa’s history.

Continue Reading

Tagging @politicsofcanada

[guardian-of-da-gay]

The Caravan

Read on Ao3

For Whumptober 2024 Prompt 12: Starvation

tw for starvation, betrayal, non-consensual drug use, trafficking

Knuckles had been a small child when he left his village for the last time.  In his young mind the best thing to do was bring as much of his people’s food stores with him as he could carry.  Even then, he had a superior strength so this was quite a lot.  Unfortunately, his arms were small.  Eventually he had to pare down.  But then he had the reverse problem.  He’d left behind too much.  Luckily foraging had been one of his chores since he could walk and he had some practice with hunting.  Unluckily, he did not have practice providing entirely for himself.  He hadn’t realized how much he relied on his tribe until he lost them.

The less he ate, the more his strength waned.  His hunting suffered and then his foraging too.  Weak arms wouldn’t pull him through the trees.  Tired eyes missed shoots on the ground.  Occasionally he’d turn over a log and find a mouthful of insects.  But it wasn’t enough.

Soon he could feel the shape of his bones under his fur.  He had to stop often to rest.  He tried to be brave and push through, but his legs would start to shake.  More than once they fell out from under him.  He tried to eat some unfamiliar berries once and spent the next two days curled under a bush unable to move for the pain in his belly.

He feared he would die before finding the Master Emerald.

Then he found the caravan.

His tribe had warned him against outsiders.  They would lie to you, throw you in a cage, and sell you.  Knuckles trusted his people, so he did not trust outsiders.  Instead of revealing himself to the caravan, he stole from their food scraps.

It was mostly vegetable peels, but it was more than he’d had in days.  He gorged on the whole pail and was delighted to find a few stray bones at the bottom.  He was sucking the last tiny morsels of meat off of one when he was caught.

He tried to get away.  He got sick instead.

When the strangers grabbed him, he thought for sure that he would be lied to, thrown in a cage, and sold.

They gave him more food instead.  And a place by their campfire.  They tried speaking to him, but he didn’t know the language.  They spoke among each other while the one who had found him ladled warm broth into a bowl.  She gave him a little and watched him close.  When he was not sick again, she gave him a little more.

Eventually, she decided he had had enough and led him into one of their wagons.  It rained that night, but Knuckles slept soundly on the floor, a roof over his head for the first time since he left his home.

Knuckles stayed with them for many days.  Everytime he thought he should leave he would be offered more food and the memory of clawing hunger would keep him there.  It was fine, he rationalized.  He wasn’t giving up on his search for the Master Emerald.  When they came to a village where he might find more information about the Emerald or Longclaw’s apprentice’s whereabouts, then he would leave.

His temporary tribe was strange to him.  One day he would know them as ‘possums’, but at the time he only knew that they weren’t echidnas.  They had no quills or spurs.  Their tails were long and naked.  And they had large, fleshy appendages on their heads that he eventually learned were ears.

While their appearances were strange, much of their lives were not.  Their days were filled with travel and work, gathering food and supplies.  The men whittled and hunted and the women weaved and cooked.  The children did chores and were just obedient enough to avoid trouble.  At night they would all eat together and sing songs or tell stories that Knuckles did not understand.

The similarities between the possums and his people was both a comfort and a source of pain.  Being around caravan made him realize how starved he was for a tribe.  He used his strength to help the men and beamed under their praising tones.  He joined the games of the other children.  He didn’t speak their language, but chasing and hiding and digging and building forts from sticks required no words.

Every morning he spent with the women, under the tutelage of the possum woman who had found him.  She brought him along to help her with chores.  He was the only child eager to work.  It was familiar.  He’d helped with chores in his old tribe.  And it gave him a chance to learn things.

Knuckles was especially hungry to learn about what wild foods he could eat.  He would go foraging with his mentor and always took care to note what was edible and where such things could be found.  He was determined to never again let himself get in the state he had been in when he first arrived at the caravan.

It wasn’t just foraging that Knuckles learned about.  As they worked, he devoured as much of the language as he could.  He learned ‘yes’ and ‘no’, ‘breakfast’, ‘lunch’, and ‘dinner’.  The possum woman would poke his bony sides and he came to understand ‘too skinny’ and ‘eat more’.  Come here.  Go there.  Pick this up, carry that, set it down, hand it to me.  Line them up.  Like this.  Good.  Let’s eat!

In the early days with the caravan, the possum woman managed his food.  First he was offered broth, then smashed fruits, then whole, soft foods.  She limited him often at first, but he quickly learned that no matter what his stomach thought, if he gorged himself, he would be sick.  With her guidance, he was gradually able to return to eating normally.  Maybe even more than that.

Knuckles’ belly was always full and he was proud each time he heard the tribe speak a word and knew it.  Some words he didn’t know but heard often.  Something was ‘close’.  They were getting ‘closer’.  He didn’t know what it meant, but he knew the caravan was passing more and more strangers.  Knuckles learned there were lots of different kinds of not-echidna people.

One night it seemed there were more strangers on the road than ever.  There were even other caravans.  They all set up their own camps.  The pack of children he’d joined all wanted to explore and see the other non-echidnas.  But his companion drew him away and out of sight.  He didn’t understand why, but he trusted her.  She had proven that she knew what was best. She was kind and she fed him.

That night she gave him a hearty soup.  Unlike that first night, he was allowed as much as he wanted.  With his belly so full and warm, Knuckles nodded off right there at the fire.

He woke in a cage.

He was in a village of some sort, but not like the one he came from.  Wooden buildings towered around them on all sides.  He was surrounded by cages full of wild creatures that brayed and squawked and clucked.  The smell of their waste was one of many overwhelming odors to fill the air and their noise was only matched by the sounds of the people.  

There were so many of them.  Some hurried about carrying boxes and baskets full of fruits or fabrics.  Others wandered down the rows of cages, talking and laughing and yelling, eating food as they went and pointing out the creatures around them.  They pointed at him the most.

His friend stood beside his cage.  She reached between the bars and pinched his side where his ribs used to show.  Knuckles was too shocked and confused to do anything.  She looked up at a stranger who stood over Knuckles.  The stranger walked around the cage and stared at him.  He nodded and dug in his clothes.  A second, larger stranger knelt and picked Knuckles up, cage and all.

Knuckles looked around wildly as he was carried away.  The stranger counted gold disks into his friend’s hand.  It was then he realized: He had been lied to.  Thrown in a cage.  Sold.

That was the first time he was betrayed.