Freefall

The streets of Ridgecliff stretched out like a maze, their cobblestones worn smooth by years of footsteps. Lanterns flickered softly, casting elongated shadows on the walls of brick buildings, while the crisp evening air carried the distant hum of traffic. Brendon followed a step behind Devina, his paws tucked casually into the pockets of his coat, eyes shifting to take in every detail.

Devina walked with an air of practiced authority, her heels clicking sharply against the ground. Her crimson fur glinted under the lamplight, and her green eyes, sharp and assessing, scanned their surroundings as if every corner might hide something of interest—or danger.

Brendon cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "So," he started, glancing sideways at her, "Ridgecliff always this quiet, or is it just because I'm here?"

Devina didn't slow down, but one ear flicked back slightly. "You could say it's the calm before the storm," she replied dryly. "Though I suppose you'd be familiar with that."

Brendon smirked. "Well, small towns do have a habit of hiding big secrets."

Her eyes narrowed a fraction. "Is that so?" she said. "Then you'll feel right at home."

Their path took them past a row of market stalls being packed up for the night. Merchants, both human and anthro, moved with weary efficiency, some throwing wary glances at Brendon as he passed. He noticed the stiffness in their shoulders, the whispers that died as soon as they caught sight of his gray and black fur.

Devina seemed to notice too, her mouth tightening. "Don't mind them," she said coolly. "Ridgecliff has a… complicated history with wolves. Bad blood from old wounds."

Brendon's eyes flickered with something unreadable. "Doesn't bother me," he lied. "I'm used to it."

Devina's ear twitched. "I see."

They continued in silence for a few moments before she spoke again, voice even but with an edge that suggested a well-rehearsed speech. "Ridgecliff is home to three sentient beings—humans, anthros, and hybrids. Each with their own ambitions, their own… perspectives."

Brendon arched a brow. "And those perspectives being?"

She glanced at him. "Humans want stability and control," she said, matter-of-factly. "Anthros focus on maintaining their presence and traditions, while hybrids just want respect—something that seems in short supply."

Brendon chuckled. "Sounds like you've got it all figured out."

She met his gaze with a faint smirk. "Someone has to."

They rounded a corner, and Brendon noticed the way Devina's eyes lingered for a split second longer on certain faces—mostly foxes, wolves, hounds and occasionally reptiles. Her posture seemed to tense slightly whenever they passed a group of them, her chin tilting a fraction higher.

"Something wrong?" he asked, tone almost lazy.

"Nothing I can't handle," she replied crisply.

Brendon's eyes narrowed, studying her. "You talk like you've been doing this job a long time," he said. "But that's not it, is it?"

She paused, a flicker of surprise breaking through her composure. "Excuse me?"

"Your coat," he said, gesturing lightly. "Custom-made, but the wear on the cuffs doesn't match the rest. You used to do something more… umm.... you know active... like getting into fights?" His eyes glinted with amusement. "Or am I wrong?"

Devina's smirk returned, sharper this time. "Clever," she conceded. "Maybe you're not just a brute in a suit after all."

"I try," Brendon replied with a half-smirk of his own.

But before she could retort, a sudden gasp from down the street made them both turn sharply.

---

The Fall

Time seemed to slow. Brendon's ears pricked, eyes snapping to movement on the far side of the street. A figure—a human kid—was falling, limbs flailing against the night sky. From a building at least twelve stories high, the body tumbled like a ragdoll, the sickening inevitability of the impact turning Brendon's stomach.

"Shit—" Devina hissed, already sprinting.

Brendon's paws hit the ground hard as he followed, instincts sharpening. His senses flared—the rush of air, the heartbeat thundering in his ears, the distant screams as bystanders realized what had happened.

They skidded around the corner just as the boy hit the ground with a dull, bone-snapping thud.

Devina and Brendon pushed the crowd to reach there and sees the horrific view. The boy was lying on the ground eyes open looking towards the sky. His head from behind wide open, brain can be seen, blood flowing out from there a lot. One of his leg is seems to be bended in a harsh way.

Devina dropped to one knee beside the body, two fingers pressing against the boy's neck and other hand with her handkerchief to block the flow of blood. Her jaw clenched. "No pulse," she said, voice tight but controlled.

Brendon's gaze swept the surroundings, nostrils flaring subtly as he took in the scents—fear, blood, a faint whiff of something acrid. His claws flexed involuntarily.

"Back!" Devina snapped at a cluster of onlookers, her tone brooking no argument. "All of you, back!"

The crowd hesitated, eyes wide, but began to edge away at the sight of her glare—and Brendon's unblinking stare.

She pulled a phone from her coat and hit speed dial. "This is Assistant Mayor Foxington," she said tersely. "We need officers and forensics at the east end, now."

Brendon's eyes lingered on the boy's hands—fingertips bloody, nails cracked as if he'd tried to hold on to something. His jaw tightened. "He didn't jump," Brendon muttered.

Devina shot him a glance. "You're sure?"

Brendon nodded, tapping the railing fragments embedded in the boy's coat. "Grabbed from behind," he growled. "Tried to stop the fall."

Devina's eyes narrowed, green irises darkening. "Then you mean this is a murder?"

Brendon didn't reply, but his silence spoke louder than words.

She exhaled sharply, rising to her feet. "Looks like your first day on the job won't be as quiet as we hoped," she muttered, eyes flashing.

Brendon's lips pulled back into something that might have been a grin, but the darkness in his eyes made it look more like a snarl. "Wouldn't be the first time," he said, cracking his knuckles.

Devina glanced at him, and for a split second, he saw something flicker behind her eyes—approval, or maybe just curiosity. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by the cold efficiency of an officer managing a crime scene.

"Come on, Sheriff," she said, voice brisk. "Let's see what kind of monster we're dealing with."

Brendon's eyes glinted in the shadows. "Lead the way."