The leaves had turned golden and brown, falling one by one to the muddied ground, covered with dried footprints of the animals who worked day in to day out. The leaves were as crisp as the air, as it brushed through the tall trees and through Animal Farm, or what Napoleon preferred then to call Manor Farm in its old name that made the animals' knees knock.

All of the animals, except for the pigs of course, were starving, their stomachs rumbling consistently, they were loudеr than the cries of the onеs soon to be executed for crimes they had never committed.

They all put in the most labor that they could while the pigs rested endlessly, claiming they were doing, "work."

The animals never did notice the heavy scent of whiskey beneath the pigs' breath; maybe it was because the pigs kept their distance from the other animals they considered to be lowly creatures who did not deserve their time and patience.

The population dwindled, and of course Napoleon did not care, it did not matter to him.

As long as he lived, he was happy, and he continued to add more and more rules to his liking, with Squealer loyally at his side as he usually was.

The buildings were run-down, and the place a larger mess than usual. No longer did the animals care of their living quarters, as it seemed they never got time to sleep or even to rest for a brief second.

The air had a bitter taste to it that it never had before, and the animals feet and legs were always coated in mud and dirt, along with the dried blood of their loved ones from when they had watched them killed in front of their very own eyes.

The morning was cold as usual, with the sun leaking in through the fluffy gray clouds that seemed to resemble the color of their empty, dying hearts. The wind whipped at their fur, feathers, their ears, or their tails, making them shiver as each harsh wind swept by, their effects lasting as long as it took for the winds to pick up again.

That morning however, despite the dull weather and the dark clouds, their hope would be restored and their happiness replenished.

Napoleon was outside, which was very rare, with Squealer happily prancing at his side, both of their heads held high and clothing adorning them, they looked so much like people that it repulsed the farm animals. Yet there was nothing they could do, as the ferocious dogs, who had once been harmless young puppies, surrounded Napoleon and Squealer, emitting low, drawn-out growls as they normally did to ward off any animal who dared to near them.

The squish of mud beneath their hoofs repeated over and over, the animals all freezing in their spots as they watched him, slightly stepping back from the pig who they realized was far worse than Jones, with his accompaniment, Squealer, of whom spoke with such soothing words that sometimes they all forgot their troubles; that was until Squealer left and their memories undoubted themselves once more. "Bow to Comrade Napoleon!" one of the dogs barked, its teeth flashing white and covered with dried blood from the slashing of throats of the animals by commands of Napoleon: the dog did not ever feel guilt, never did feel his heart droop at the acts he committed. It was rumored that the dogs no longer had hearts and they had withered away while serving Napoleon's merciless orders. Perhaps they never did have hearts, and thus were perfect to be Comrade Napoleon's servants. Perhaps their hearts had been stolen as they had been stolen as puppies from their mother. "Bow now!" growled another dog with muscles that rippled beneath its short black fur, gnashing its teeth and taking a threatening step forth with eyes that gleamed an unnatural blood-red.

All the animals clenched their muscles, jumping from the sudden loudness that broke past their eardrums and flowed into their minds, yet they stood still, unable to respond. Even the largest animals had eyes so wide that they bulged out of their sockets.
"What did we say?" the first dog said. "Only traitors do not bow to their Leader."

Still, the animals were frozen; the fear had finally gotten to them. Their muscles seemed unable to work for them, and their eyes remained unblinking, their jaws agape.

Weeks passed and Benjamin continued to make the same inspiring statement in each meeting. The animals continued working a little less everyday just like what Benjamin had told them to do. Nevertheless, the dogs and the pigs did not notice the change in their work except for Napoleon. He noticed that there was not enough food produced but the pigs supervising the animals believed that it was because of the insects and the drought this year. Nevertheless, Napoleon continued to suspect that this was the animal’s plan to sabotage Manor Farm.

After the workday was over, the animals returned to the barn. The black cockerel crowed again and Napoleon entered into the barn guarded by three dogs.

The animals stood still as the upper animals passed by. Napoleon announced to the lower animals, “Starting tomorrow, there shall be dogs guarded inside the farmhouse overnight. It seems that there has been a threat in this farm and someone has been stealing our food. Any animal caught in the farm stealing will be executed immediately.” The speech ended with the sheep’s bleating of “Four legs good, two legs better! Four legs good, two legs better! Four legs good, two legs better!”

The Bali myna starts to whistle at Napoleon when the sheep are in chanting cacophony.

After his statement, the lower animals were fed with their typical ration of food and the upper animals left the scene to enjoy the night in another party with Mr. Pilkington and other farmers.

As soon as the animals had finished their rations and settled down, Benjamin called an emergency meeting. The animals one by one gathered around him and waited patiently. Benjamin spoke in a firm tone, “I am well aware that we have all heard what Napoleon said, comrades. Hence forward, dogs will be guarding the barn every night starting the next day. Tonight, comrades, may just be the last day in which there will be a meeting. This is the sign that we are waiting for that we, comrades must strike together. Tomorrow will be the day in which we will attack and overthrow the wicked Napoleon.”

The animals were shocked and amazed to hear. One of the horses asked, “How do we fight them? Some of us are afraid. The dogs are ferocious and the pigs have humans to help them.” The crowd of animals murmured in agreement but Benjamin was not surprised by the question.

“I understand your fear. I lived through the rebellion of Mr. Jones and witnessed many deaths on the battlefield. What the pigs have told you about the rebellion are false. I used to have a great friend and he was a great warrior in the rebellion. He was a brave stallion, strong but gentle. In the rebellion, he charged without falling back and continued attacking the opponent. He was shot at a few times but continued to fight as if he had received no pain. He never wanted to kill anyone, only to drive the enemy away. I wish that at tomorrow‘s battle, all of us would be like that. I believe that it is better to die free than to spend the rest of our lives living as slaves. I will risk my life tomorrow and if something were to happen to me, tell the future generations of animals what happened in the battle tomorrow.” At the moment, the animals were inspired to fight. They were ready and didn’t care whether they lived. All they want to do is end Napoleon’s rule.

More and more Indian elephants began plowing before the final showdown.