The heat inside Block C always hit different after lights out, the kind of heat that made it hard to sleep and think.

He sat up in his bunk, eyes half-lidded, legs spread wide like, his eyes flicked lazily toward the opposite wall. He could hear 'em out there again those three knuckle-draggers from Block D. Razorback, Twitch, and that glass-eyed mutt they called Loom. Dumb names for dumb pricks. Noisy motherfuckers. Always rattling around like they owned the tier. Razor had a habit of picking targets that didn’t bite back. Easy meat.

Kain cracked his neck, slow, deliberate, like a bored predator stretching his jaw. He got twitchy when shit got boring.

“Mm... fuckin’ Razor,” he muttered to himself, rubbing at the thick scruff under his chin. “Always sniffin’ where he ain’t welcome.”

He stood, the bedsprings creaking under his weight. Bare paws hit cold floor no rush. He could already picture the scene. Nervous eyes. Shoulders tensing up. That subtle little stiff posture people got when they were trying not to look rattled. Kain had seen it a hundred times. Hell, he’d caused it a hundred more. But tonight... he didn’t feel like watching another mess from the sidelines. Not because he cared. Just... because he was bored. And because opportunity always showed up.

He found his mark exactly where he expected: quiet corner, avoiding noise, pretending things were fine. Typical. Kain’s lip curled slightly, without invitation, Kain slid up beside him and then that arm slid over the shoulders beside him with casual confidence.

He leaned in, muzzle close, voice low “Hey, you ain't lookin' too steady these days.”

A smirk ghosted his lips “Shame, really. This block? Used to be calm. Quiet. But then they let them D-tank rejects slither in. Razorback? He don’t know how to keep his fuckin’ mouth shut. Twitch can’t blink without lookin’ like he’s gonna chew off someone’s ear. And Loom... Loom’s got that dead stare. You know the type. Ain’t thinkin’ nothin’ but bone and friction.”

Kain chuckled, not loud “They been sniffin’ your trail, haven’t they?”

The silence that followed was answer enough. Kain didn’t push. He just let the weight of his arm settle, fingers drumming slowly on the shoulder beneath. “Now... I could say somethin’. To Razor. To Twitch. Hell, even to the guards if I gave a damn.”

A slow lean in. His muzzle brushed near the ear.

“Thing is, I don’t. Not really.” His hand dropped from the shoulder, trailing low, casually until it gave a smack against the ass next to him. “But... maybe I could care. I could make ‘em forget you even exist. Make sure they look the other way. Ain’t hard. Just takes a word.”

“And maybe a lil’... thank you. Y’know. A favor for a favor. Prison politics.” His claws scratched at the back of his neck, the heat making the fur stick to his chest.

“Cause see, I been real nice so far. Playin’ cool. Chattin’ about shit.”

He turned, facing his cellmate full on now, arms crossed over his bare chest, tail flicking once behind him “But I’m gettin’ bored, man. Real bored.”

A shrug. “Could keep sittin’ on my paws, lettin’ you sweat it out every night, pretendin’ like Razor ain’t gonna snap one day and drag you by your fuckin’ collar.”

Then he leaned forward, not threatening “Or we could strike a deal. You scratch my itch... and I make yours disappear.” His hand lifted again, two fingers pointing lazily downward “Your choice, roomie.”