"Yes, I sympathsize with your dilemma, which is why I wish to clarify that this is not a human eradication," he spoke over the phone, trying not to snarl as he talked. "I differenciate between the humans off the battlefield that consider themselves outside the food chain, and those on the battlefield that consider themselves the top of it and anything that isn't human fair game. The Anthro Alliance only wishes to eliminate the aggressors, but. . . Well, no I can't speak for our associates in arms, but would you really rather take a chance with the humans? They aren't being picky with their prey -- if it doesn't look human, they eat. What makes you think that if they eradicate the anthros, they won't turn on you afterwards? Well. . . No. . . No, I think the anthros and what few ferals we've recruited would be an equal match, but with your support, our victory would be assured completely. I assure you, any losses to your side will be compensated tenfold. Okay. . . Okay, I will see you there."<br/><br/>He hung up the phone and immediately dialed the next number. Such was the conversation that he had gone through almost a hundred times today as he and his partners in the Boiler Room attempted to form an alliance between anthros and demihumans. Every organization of catgirls, foxboys, werewolves, kitsunes, mermaids, tanukis, nagas, centaurs, satyrs -- anyone that was not human but could have passed for human with the right kind of clothing -- was given a call. Some had accepted, others had rejected, but at the very least he was confident none of the demihumans were siding with the human aggressors. In less than an hour, the anthros would be getting reinforcements.