Welp, as I promised here's the first chapter of my second fan fic. I kinda made it up on the spot, using characters I plotted out, but now that I have the first chapter I think I know where to go from here. Hope you enjoy! PS: all charterers are original

The snow crunched beneath Fritz's feet as he shuffled along. He and his older brother, Cory, trudged down the icy road, wood in their arms. It had taken a day total to find wood dry enough for kindling and they needed to hurry back to their family before the sun set, and the cold became unbearable. Fritz’s arms felt like they would collapse, this was his first time hauling wood with his brother, and he re-adjusted the load in his arms not wanting to appear weak. He stole a glance at his brother, and sighed in frustration. His brother was as perfect as ever. He held more than twice Fritz’s load and his gold eyes practically shown in the sun. His muscles flexed as he too re-adjusted his load, and his calico splotched fur gleamed with cold sweat. Fritz had often wondered what it would be like to be his brother. He himself had plain brown fur, unlike anyone in his family, and dark eyes. He was often told he looked angry because he had “no expression” in his eyes. He was tall and scrawny, with no warrior skills.

His brother met his gaze and grinned. Fritz grinned back. He faced ahead, letting his face fall into what he hoped was a determined, but nonchalant expression. “So,” his brother spoke, his voice deep and manly. “How has school been?” Fritz looked down. He felt guilt rise in his throat but he pushed it down, he couldn’t tell his goody-two shoes brother that he had been skipping school, and hiding in the lake house, He couldn't tell his brother that he didn’t go to school because of the bullies. He couldn’t tell his super smart brother he left because he was failing all his classes. He couldn’t tell his brother that he had stolen sheets of paper and colored ink to practice drawing. He couldn’t tell anyone, anything. So he shrugged, “Fine I guess…”

They looked ahead again, falling into uncomfortable silence. But Fritz didn't mind. He had spent three months now, not speaking to anyone at school, and then heading to his room to write songs for hours, only coming down for dinner.

A cold wind blew through the air and they sped up into a run as dark clouds chased them through the snow. Fritz suddenly felt a piece of wood slipping from his grasp and he paused. Cory stopped abruptly as the wood toppled into the snow. Cory scowled, “Urgh! Ok it's fine, just leave it, it's useless. I'll just come back tomorrow for more.” Fritz scowled back and ran ahead of his brother, fighting back the angry tears. He hated that he was emotional. They ran along until they came upon a small village in the middle of a small clearing. Night had fallen and they ran, slipping through the sludge to the largest of houses in the cul de sac. They ran to the door and it slammed open in their faces. Their mother stood in the door, her calico fur barely visible in the darkness of the house, though they could clearly see the dangerous glint in her wild yellow eyes. “Well!” she said impatiently, motioning them inside. “What took you so long!” she whispered angrily. “Carla and Troy are asleep! They went to bed with no dinner because of you lollygaggers!” Fritz shrugged off the insult and walked inside, to the living room.

His father was very wealthy, and they had plenty of food and water, their house was two stories, unlike most of the smaller houses in the neighborhood, and they would have no problem paying someone else to get wood but their father believed in consequences. From a young age they had had to earn almost everything. They had to fill water from the well in order to get candy when they were two, and by the time they were four they were learning how to earn their own dinner. Their father believed they had to work for these things like he did when he was a kid, so when Cory and now Fritz came home late with wood, the whole family would not eat. It was a horrible solution in Fritz’s opinion. He walked down the hall, averting his gaze from the walls. He knew what was on them. Gorgeous paintings of the family filled the hall, all of the individuals and a family portret. He knew them by heart. There was him and Cory, and his mother first. Then on the other side of the hall was his majestic father, he had piercing green eyes and white fur that always combed perfectly, not a hair out of place. Then his youngest sister and brother, twins, who were nearly identical with their grey eyes and speckled orange fur. Only Carla, his sister, had a large splotch like a heart around her nose, giving her a permanent happy look.

Then was a portrait of a buck who looked exactly like Fritz, besides the dark black ear. But Fritz was not allowed to call him family. That frame was of Prince, the eldest child. He had left, fed up with the cruel lifestyle, right after the twins were born, leaving to a place not one rabbit could find. His father had torn the frame from the wall for seven years, until he was sure Prince could not be alive. He had replaced his frame on the wall during a short funeral, where no one was allowed to cry. Fritz had considered running away like his brother many times, but he knew that if his brother couldn't survive, neither could he. Sometimes he found his mother staring out the window, as if she hoped he would somehow be alive and come home. And Fritz knew that she wished it with all her heart, because when their father was gone she would cry and sometimes call his name. Everyone had loved Prince, Cory and him had been close, closer than Cory and Fritz. Fritz had never really gotten to know Prince, because he was always off helping the neighbors in order to earn food. But he did have one fuzzy memory…

Fritz stood at the edge of the well, looking into the depth of it. The darkness of the bottom made him wonder how far down it was. He leaned forward, suddenly there was a laugh behind him and he spun with a cry. But before he could see who it was he had been pushed over the side. He landed with a loud splash at the bottom, and after righting himself he began to call for help, then he remembered the rules and he didn't want to get in trouble. He stood there, shivering and bleeding for hours until dark edges closed in on him, and everything went black. He remembered waking up in an unfamiliar room, lined with thousands of books, and maps, and special stands. He looked at the figure who was sewing a gash in his head and recognized it to be Prince. He had begun to cry out but Price noticed he was awake and forced a thick painkiller down his throat. Then the room closed again, and nothing had changed. He was in his bed, Prince wasn’t there. He assumed it was a dream, but he never noticed the scar, hidden beneath his fur on the top of his head.

Then there was arguing. His father stormed into the hall, his face livid. Fritz sprinted up to his room as his father's angry shouts echoed through the whole house. As he stomped through the upper hall he could hear loud cries coming from the twins room. Troy was sobbing. “Oh Troy!” came Carlas squeaky voice, “Troy! I know, but you can't cry, what if they hear you?”

That was it. Fritz was done. Tomorrow he would plan it out, but he was leaving. He was done. He ran the rest of the way to his room and opened the door. He stepped in a puddle of paint but he ignored it. He ran to his small bed that had taken him years to earn, and he collapsed onto the ink stained covers, breathing in the scent. Then he turned over, with a surprising amount of new vigor. He closed his eyes, wishing himself to sleep. It took a while, because of the yelling from below, but eventually he drifted off into dreams of adventure. Of brown bucks and funerals, of paint, and of the freedom he would soon have.