Chapter 26: The Law of the Jungle

"You sure you don't want to come in?" Jamie asked with a sparkle in her eye. "Just to sit together? Maybe…" She stood up on her toes and just barely grazed the soft, caramel fur of her cheek against Joseph's. "Cuddle a little bit?" she ended with a giggle.

The fox smiled but pulled away, feeling the fire ignite in his chest again at the warmth of Jamie's face against his. It had been almost a week and two dates (including this one) since he had had his nightmare, but its aftereffects had not quite faded yet. The pounding of his heart and the thoughts that flew through his mind as his girlfriend gently nuzzled him still twisted his heart and churned his stomach, even as her touch brought him unspeakable joy.

"I would absolutely love to," Joseph told her more or less truthfully, "but I am a gentleman, and so I will not be the one to incite a scandal."

"And what if I dragged you in?" the bunny said with a smirk as she took hold of his blue silk tie, pulling his face down to hers. "Would you be able to resist my dazzling rabbit charm?"

Joseph felt his mouth go dry and his heart begin to beat even faster as he felt the tiny puffs of Jamie's breath flow into his nose, sending his senses into overdrive again. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, silently praying that his girlfriend couldn't smell the testosterone flooding his veins.

"Don't tempt me, Miss Hopps," the fox said playfully but shakily. "I have the approximate willpower of a stick of celery."

"Well, I wouldn't want to take advantage of your fragility, Mr. Wilde," the doe said, softly brushing her lips against his in a kiss that sent the ecstatic flame rushing once more through his veins. "Not yet, anyway," she quipped.

The fox's only response was to stare down into Jamie's sky-blue eyes as he huffed and puffed like he had just finished a marathon, using every ounce of willpower he had to control his thoughts—and paws.

When Jamie noticed that he failed to speak and simply continued to breathe heavily, a concerned look crossed her face. "You okay?" she asked him, laying a gentle paw upon his russet cheek. "You look like you're in pain. Are you sick?"

Joseph shook his head quickly, trying to get his breathing under control. "No, no, I'm fine," he assured her, although the look in his eyes betrayed his nervousness. "It's just…"

"What?" the doe asked.

"You can get me a little riled up sometimes," Joseph replied with a nervous laugh. "I'm…still getting used to this whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing, I guess."

A dazzling smile broke across the bunny's face as she reached up and wrapped her paws around Joseph's neck. "I'll be good from now on," she said with a wink. "I wouldn't want to sully my fox's chaste reputation."

"Oh, it's you I'm worried about," Joseph assured her, wrapping his arms around her waist gently as his voice took on a slightly more serious tone. "I…I just don't want to lose control one day and do something I'll regret."

"Oh, Joey," she said, causing a wonderful stab to go through his heart as she used his pet name, "I know you would never do anything to hurt me." She then pulled on his tie once again, bringing his lips to hers in a kiss that was simultaneously stronger and more tender than the last.

God, I hope you're right, the fox thought as he brought his paw up and laid it against the back of Jamie's head, the feeling of her warm ears against his paw pads making his head buzz like a beehive.

When, after a considerable amount of time, the couple finally pulled apart, Jamie softly rubbed her nose against the white fabric of Joseph's dress shirt. As she gently held herself against him, Joseph caught a familiar scent rolling off of the bunny—it was her scent, but different. It was stronger and mustier, almost wild—

The fox's eyes snapped open as he realized what the scent was. Oh, the thought, laying his paws on Jamie's shoulders and gently pushing her backwards through the open door of her apartment. Oh, Jamie, why did you have to make this harder than it already is?

Instead of voicing his thoughts, Joseph chose instead to plant a tender kiss on the soft caramel fur of Jamie's brow. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, sweetie," he whispered, the term of endearment almost bringing tears to his eyes. "Good night."

"Good night, Grasshopper," the bunny said with a tiny giggle.

"Oh, we're doing nicknames now, are we?" Joseph asked her, already beginning to feel more at ease now that he was several inches away from her.

"Well, we've gone out three times now, and that's the only drink you've ordered, so…"

"It's a good drink!" the fox defended lightly. "At least I don't always carry around a bag of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups in my bookbag."

"You don't go to school, foxy," the doe said with a grin. "And don't begrudge me my peanut butter cups. Sometimes they're all that gets me through the chemistry lectures."

"That's it!" Joseph announced with a clap of his paws. In spite of the alarm going off in his head, he approached Jamie once more and wrapped his arms around her waist, spinning her in a quick circle just inside the doorway. "You," he said in a faux English accent, "shall be my Buttercup."

An ecstatic grin split the rabbit's face, her pure white teeth nearly blinding Joseph with their beauty. "I think I can deal with that," she said. "So long as I get to see you dress in all black with a mask on and a rapier on your hip."

"As you wish," Joseph said playfully, and gave his girlfriend a final kiss goodnight before releasing her and backing away elegantly from the door. He bowed to her, barely brushing his lips against the back of her paw as he went. "Good night, sweet Buttercup," he said.

"Good night, valiant Grasshopper," Jamie retorted playfully, slowly backing into the apartment as Joseph turned and began walking down the hall to the stairwell. He heard the door shut behind him with a nearly imperceptible click.

Once he had reached the lobby and exited the front doors of the Grand Pangolin Arms, the fox decided that he would walk home rather than hailing a cab. A warm wind had blown in earlier today, keeping most of downtown Zootopia and Savanna Central at a comfortable 62 degrees. As he walked down the lamp-lit street, Joseph thought back over the events of the last week.

Including tonight, he and Jamie had been on a total of three dates. Their first, of course, had been exactly one week ago at Bella Notte and Verdant, a night Joseph knew he would remember long after he had forgotten his own name. Their second had been on Wednesday-the one week night Jamie usually had off-when they had both agreed on a lower-key evening and opted to go to the movies. They had seen a horror flick called Leatherface, a slasher that Joseph had found bland and unrealistic, but which, much to his simultaneous delight and stress, had scared Jamie right into his arms. Tonight, they had gone to dinner in a café situated in the top canopy of the Rainforest District, followed by a nearly two-hour walk along the lakefront, during which the pair had idly chatted about nothing in particular, each simply glad to be in the company of the other.

Though he had promised her sister he would, Joseph still hadn't talked to Jamie about the nightmare he had had. He had a few different reasons for keeping it to himself—the first of course being that he felt too ashamed to tell her about the thoughts he was having. He didn't know if he could stand the look of revulsion that he was certain would enter her eyes the moment he told her about what he had tried to do in his dream. The fox knew that Jamie would most likely be forgiving—that was simply who she was—but he couldn't bear the idea of her looking at him differently after learning what he felt towards her.

Hey, dummy, a subconscious voice said inside his head, did you not smell her just now, or even when she nuzzled you before you even started dating? She's probably having the same thoughts and feelings you are.

Joseph swiftly shook the idea from his head as he rounded a corner onto Pine Boulevard, a slightly more run-down section of the downtown area. No, he thought to the voice. There's no way she could ever look at me that way. She could never…want me.

You thought she'd never want to date you either, and yet, here we are, his inner voice retorted. Stop putting yourself down like you're some ugly dirtbag and accept the fact that Jamie is into you.

The fox decided to ignore his inner voice, trying instead to focus on something other than Jamie—sweet, beautiful, perfect Jamie, the girl that had made him happier in a month than he'd been in his whole life, the girl who looked at him as though he was the only person in the world worth being with, the precious bunny whom he was already beginning to picture in a flowing white gown—

Joseph was abruptly torn from his thoughts of church bells by the dimmer, yet much more present sound of gunfire from somewhere off to his left. His head instantaneously snapped toward the sound, listening closely to make sure he hadn't imagined it. When he heard two more shots ring out in the distance, accompanied by a male yell, he broke into a sprint without even thinking about it.

He ran nearly seven blocks inside of a minute, the only other animal he saw being an impressed-looking cheetah that gawked at his speed as he flew by her. He heard one last shot ring out, accompanied by a loud grunt and the sound of blows landing on flesh, and rounded a corner into the dimly-lit parking lot of a second-hand store, one that he recognized from when he had accompanied Nick and Judy on their patrols. In the space of half a second, Joseph took in the horrible scene before him.

Lying on the ground in a pool of pale orange light from the streetlamp above, a tigress feebly rolled onto her side and struggled to breathe, the knife wounds in her stomach and chest preventing her from doing so. Hot blood poured from the wounds onto the tigress' lemon-yellow blouse, the pale light of the streetlamp making it look like black oil. Raising his eyes, Joseph saw the figures of two mammals struggling a few feet away from a plain black car, one massive and black-furred, the other about a foot taller than Joseph himself with gray-and-white fur lining his face. The smaller mammal, who seemed to be a wolf, was caught in the hulking embrace of the larger, snarling and clawing at the beast's left arm in an attempt to free himself. The larger mammal, who seemed to be a bison, raised its right arm, allowing Joseph to catch a glint of light flashing off of the razor-sharp knife in its hoof.

In the instant it took Joseph to realize what was happening, the bison made its move. With incredible strength, the hulking animal brought the knife down across the wolf's neck, a startling red line appearing almost instantly on the white fur of his throat as a shower of blood sprayed out of the wound.

"NO!" Joseph shouted, putting every ounce of strength he had into his legs, moving so fast that he was sure he felt his ankles shatter. He was, however, not fast enough, for the damage had already been done. Joseph slammed into the bison's shoulder with the strength of a freight train, hearing a satisfying crack and a roar of pain emanating from the animal's muzzle. The wolf fell away weakly, clawing at the wound in his throat as Joseph tried to pin the bison down on the ground. He punched the bison full-on in the face, but was surprised when the mammal's hoof struck him in the chest with the force of a cannonball, throwing him backward and through the large window of the second-hand store. With the tinkling of broken glass and a multitude of stinging cuts, Joseph landed on the floor of the shop in front of a shelf full of old VHS tapes, the wind knocked clean out of him. He sat up quickly, his head spinning and the broken glass digging into his hands and feet as he tried to draw breath. Although he'd had exceptional training by HYDRA, they'd never taught him how to take on an opponent that was roughly five times his size-though it had been on the schedule.

With an aching cough, Joseph leapt back through the shattered window only to see the bison fleeing down the dimly-lit street, a red circle on his left shoulder slowly trickling blood onto the leather jacket he was wearing.

For a moment, the fox considered going after the mammal, but then glanced to his left and remembered that there were two mammals bleeding out on the ground. He shot a look across the parking lot to where the tigress lay, and saw to his despair that she was no longer moving, her shoulders lacking the steady rise and fall that came with breath. Even the pool of blood she was lying in had ceased to spread outward.

Knowing that there was nothing he could do to help her, Joseph turned his attention to the injured wolf. He stumbled over to him and fell to his knees at the wolf's side, quickly ripping off the expensive sports jacket Nick had bought him and pressing it against the bloody wound on the canine's throat. The wolf gazed up at him, fear shining through his crystal-blue eyes.

"You're gonna be okay," Joseph lied as he continued to apply pressure to the wound. "I—I'm gonna call for help." He removed his left paw and made to retrieve his phone from his pocket, but was stopped by a sudden gargle from the wolf's throat. He saw the canine raise his right paw and weakly tap on his left shoulder, indicating the object strapped to the blue fabric of his shirt.

As soon as Joseph saw what the object was, his heart sank. In a tenth of a second, he ran his eyes across the rest of the wolf's body, noticing that he was dressed in a deep blue shirt and pants with a black tie hanging loosely from his collar. A sob tore itself out of Joseph's throat as he looked at the wolf's chest where, just above his failing heart, there sat a gleaming golden shield inscribed with the words "Trust, Integrity, Bravery" encircling a golden star. His eyes flitted to the right side of the wolf's chest and were barely able to make out the name "Wolford" through the blood that covered the gilded nametag.

"You're a cop," Joseph said shakily. The mammal, Officer Wolford, nodded tersely, once again tapping the radio strapped to his shoulder. Joseph quickly grabbed the device, his shaking fingers fumbling at the buttons as he tried to find the one that would connect him to dispatch. When he heard a squawk and a faint static tone, Wolford nodded again, indicating that he could speak now.

"Joseph Wilde to dispatch, Joseph Wilde to dispatch, do you read?!" the fox screamed into the microphone. He released the mic button and waited for a reply, which came half a second later.

"This is Clawhauser," came a cheery voice from the other end of the radio. "Who am I speaking to again?"

"My name's Joseph Wilde!" he shouted frustratedly into the device. "I'm friends with Nick and Judy! Please, there's an officer down at—" The fox quickly glanced over to the street corner, his eyes pulling their location from the street sign. "88th and Mango!" he said. "It's Officer Wolford, he's been attacked, he's had his throat cut and he's bleeding out—"

"Hold on, hold on," the cheetah replied in an infuriatingly calm voice. "You said Officer Wolford is—"

"JUST GET THE PARAMEDICS HERE NOW, GODDAMMIT!" Joseph screeched into the microphone. "For Chrissakes, he's bleeding out, a tiger is already dead, and the bad guy's taken off down the road, headed south on 88th! Send help NOW!"

"Got it, got it!" Clawhauser said nervously. Joseph dropped the mic to the ground, pressing his paws once again into the now blood-soaked coat on Officer Wolford's throat.

"You're gonna be alright," the fox lied again, applying as much pressure to the wound as he was sure was safe. "Help's on the way, they're going to save you."

The wolf responded by trying to say something, but the slit in his throat prevented him form forming a coherent word.

"No, no, don't talk!" Joseph said, trying to comfort him. "Just…save your energy, okay? Help is on the way."

Wolford ignored him, desperately trying to choke something out through the blood in his windpipe, this time managing to make a sound like "Shhhh".

"Officer, you've gotta stop trying to talk," the fox begged him, the sodden coat sliding down a bit over Wolford's bloody shirt. "You're just making it worse—" His admonition was cut off when the canine raised his paw again, this time clutching at his neck. Joseph thought he was clawing at his wound and tried to stop him, but then realized that he was grasping for something under his shirt, another "shh" noise escaping his bloody lips. Fear and worry coursed through Joseph's body as Wolford tugged a bloodied silver chain out from underneath his red-soaked collar, and the fox saw that it was hung with two intersecting triangles, one pointing upward and one pointing downward, forming a six-pointed star.

Joseph's eyes widened as he realized what the wolf was trying to say. "Shh," he gurgled out. "Maa…yis…"

"You're Jewish," Joseph stated, his eyes catching on the bloodied silver of the officer's Star of David pendant. "You're Jewish, aren't you?"

Seemingly unable to choke out any more sounds, Wolford simply nodded, his limbs beginning to shake.

"It's okay," Joseph said quietly, momentarily removing his paw from the canine's neck so that he could place it comfortingly upon his brow. "I know it. I'll say it for you, don't worry." The fox's heart shattered as tears began to flow from Wolford's crystal-blue eyes. He knew he wasn't going to live long enough for the medics to get there, and he wanted to say his final prayer.

Joseph drew in a trembling breath, trying to be strong for the mammal dying under his paws as he softly began to say the ancient words of faith, which he had memorized during his more devout days of studying his own Christian faith. "Sh'ma, Yisrael," the fox said, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears, "Adonai eloheinu, Adonai echad. Baruch shem k'vod malchuto l'olam va'ed. V'ahavta eit Adonai elohecha, b'chawl l'vavecha, u'v'chawl nafshecha, u'v'chawl m'odecha."

The faintest smile of thanks spread across Wolford's lips as Joseph finished his recitation. He let out a cry, and then repeated the words, this time in English. "Hear, O Israel," he said, now crying openly, "the Lord is our God, the Lord is One. Blessed be the name of his kingdom forever and ever. And you shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength."

As he felt Officer Wolford's body beginning to convulse beneath his paws, Joseph realized that there was no longer any point in applying pressure to the wound—there was nothing he could do, and the night was still silent, the air unbroken by any sirens. He removed his right paw from the sodden sports coat, reaching down and firmly grasping Wolford's paw in his own. The canine squeezed it weakly, the fading blue eyes meeting the burning amber.

"Stay with me, Wolford," Joseph begged him. "Come on, man, just—just hold out until the medics get here, okay? You—you're going to be fine."

The officer merely looked at Joseph, a look of serenity passing over his face as he gave Joseph's paw one last squeeze. He coughed violently, a spray of salty blood almost hitting Joseph in the face, and then he lay still, his crystal-blue eyes staring lifelessly into the night sky.

"No," Joseph cried weakly, reaching up to grasp Wolford's face and shaking his head. "No, no, no, NO! Wolford, come ON! Wake up, man, please!" He grabbed the canine by the shoulders and shook him violently, praying that life could be breathed back into his limp body. When no such miracle occurred, Joseph placed his paws on the wolf's chest and feverishly began trying to restart his heart.

"No, Wolford, come back!" he shouted, barely hearing the crack that came from the wolf's chest as he accidentally broke one of his ribs. "Wolford, please, man, don't go. Please, j-j-just c-come back…" He tilted the officer's head back and placed his lips on his, plugging the wolf's nose and ferociously blowing air into his lungs, only to be sickened by the whistling sound his breath made as it exited the hole in Wolford's throat.

Realizing that there was nothing more he could do, that the officer was truly gone, Joseph pounded his fist on the wolf's chest one last time and let out a gut-wrenching wail, then fell back on his haunches, his shoulders shaking with grief. He still didn't hear any sirens, the only sound breaking the stillness of the night being his own ragged sobs.

After weeping for almost a minute, Joseph wiped his eyes on the back of his paw, feeling the cop's still-warm blood smear across his face, and knelt back down next to Wolford's body, closing the officer's unseeing eyes with his fingers as he uttered a final prayer.

"May the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, welcome you into the light of his everlasting glory," Joseph said shakily. He wasn't sure if it was really a valid Jewish prayer, but it sounded right all the same. He then folded his paws together, laying them gently on Wolford's chest, and was silent for a moment. Then, feeling a tug in the depths of his memory, Joseph cast another glance at the cop's serenely still face, and bowed his head once more.

"Now this is the Law of the Jungle," the fox whispered through silent tears, "as old and as true as the sky, and the Wolf that shall keep it may prosper, but the Wolf that shall break it must die."

The night was utterly and absolutely silent as the tears of the fox fell and mixed with the blood of the wolf, as if all of nature and the earth itself were keeping vigil for the fallen warrior. "As the creeper that girdles the tree trunk," Joseph continued, "the Law runneth forward and back. For the strength of the pack is the Wolf…

"And the strength of the Wolf is the Pack."

Nick was awoken from his deep slumber by the sudden and obnoxious ringing of his cell phone from the nightstand on his right. Letting out a groan of annoyance, the fox tiredly rubbed at his eyes and glanced at the digital clock on the dresser before answering.

"Who the hell's calling at 12:30 in the morning?" he muttered to himself. He felt Judy stir softly beside him as he creakily sat up on the edge of the bed, lifting his phone from the nightstand. He looked at the screen and saw that the caller was none other than the Chief of Police.

"Oh, no," the fox muttered, suddenly awake. He clicked the green "accept" key and raised the phone to his ear. "Hello?" he answered tiredly.

"Wilde," came the gruff voice of Chief Bogo. "Sorry to bother you at this time of night. Were you asleep?"

"No, sir, Carrots and I were up on the roof doing the Cha-Cha slide while Gazelle played the bongos," Nick said sarcastically.

"Very funny, Wilde," Bogo said, his voice even more monotone than usual. "I need you and Hopps to come in."

"May I ask why, sir?" the fox asked, rubbing a paw across his tired eyes.

"Because," the buffalo replied. "your son is here."

"Wait, Joseph's there?" Nick asked, a surge of adrenaline waking him up in a heartbeat. "What is he doing at the station? Is he okay?"

"He's fine," the Chief assured him. "Well, more or less."

"What do you mean, 'more or less', Chief?" Nick asked impatiently. "That kid might not have my blood, but you better believe that he's my son. So is my son okay or not?"

"He's fine, Wilde, don't worry. He's got some cuts and a bruised sternum, but he'll be fine. It's his mental state I'm more worried about right now. He...he needs you here."

"Chief, what the hell happened?" the fox said. Before Bogo could reply, he heard a soft, sleepy voice speak from behind him.

"Nick?" Judy yawned out to him. "What's going on? Who is it?"

"It's the Chief," Nick told her. "Something happened. Joseph's at the precinct."

"What?!" the rabbit asked, shaking the sleep from her head. "What happened?"

"Just get here, you two," the buffalo said grumpily, apparently having heard Nick and Judy's side conversation. "The kid is…well, he's shaken, to say the least."

"We'll be right there, Chief," Nick said, briskly hanging up the phone and standing up. "I'm gonna go pick Joseph up," he told Judy.

"Well, I'm coming, too," she insisted.

Knowing that there was no point in trying to stop her, Nick merely nodded and slipped his boxers on from where they lay on the floor. He then went over to their closet, putting on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt while Judy slipped on a pair of sweatpants and a ZPD t-shirt. Within two minutes, the couple was out the door and on their way to the station.

The first thing that Nick and Judy noticed when they walked through the front doors of Precinct One was how utterly and absolutely silent it was. Even on the few occasions that the pair had been here this late, there had been a handful of officers walking around the atrium, idly chatting while Clawhauser munched on his cereal or jammed out to Gazelle. Judy noticed Officers McHorn and Rhinowitz crossing the lobby, but they were completely silent. Even Clawhauser, who was seated at the front desk, was quiet, his eyes cast downward and his head in his paws.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Nick whispered to Judy out of the corner of his mouth as his eyes scanned the room for Joseph. They found him sitting on the long bench on the left side of the room, seated a few feet away from Chief Bogo, who had his hoof on the shoulder of hulking tiger in nightclothes that was sobbing gently into his paws.

"Is that Fangmeyer?" Judy asked Nick quietly as they passed, giving the two a wide berth.

"Yeah," Nick replied. "What the hell happened that could've made the big cat cry?"

"Something horrible," the bunny said as they approached the spot where his son was sitting. Nick could smell the coppery scent of dried blood on him, but he could tell it wasn't his. The kit had a thick woven blanket laid over his shoulders, his paws lying limp on his knees with his blank amber eyes facing forward, staring at nothing. He looked like he was completely in shock.

"Joseph?" Judy said softly as she laid a paw on his shoulder. At her touch, the fox slowly turned his head to face her, and she saw that his eyes were puffy and bloodshot. "Are you okay?"

Joseph only responded by slowly shaking his head, his eyes lowering to the floor.

"It's okay, bud," Nick said as he sat down next to the kit and wrapped a loving arm around his shoulders. "We're here now, it's okay." Joseph immediately leaned in to his surrogate father's embrace, resting his head softly against Nick's chest like a child. "You want to tell us what happened?"

The fox sniffled before he spoke. "I was walking home from Jamie's apartment after our date," he said, his voice hoarse. "I heard gunshots, so I went to go check it out."

"Why would you do that?" Judy interrupted. "You could've gotten hurt."

"What was I supposed to do, just let someone die?" he responded indignantly. "Not that it mattered, anyway. I…I got there too late."

"What do you mean, you got there too late, buddy?" Nick questioned him.

The kit drew in a shaky breath. "It was a murder," he explained. "There was a tiger woman lying on the ground, her throat cut. She…she was still alive when I got there, but not for very long. I…I think the gunshots I heard were from…Officer W-w-wolford."

"Wolford was there?" Nick asked, his stomach suddenly feeling as though it had dropped out of his body.

Joseph nodded tersely. "I think he was on patrol or something; I saw his cruiser. He—he tried to shoot the bison that slit the tiger's throat, but he only made one shot, I think. Then the bison threw the tiger away and…and went for Wolford."

"Joseph," Judy said cautiously, "where is Officer Wolford?"

At that, fresh tears began to fall from the kit's eyes once again as another sob escaped his chest. "I…I tried," he choked out, "but I…I wasn't fast enough. He—he killed him."

Both the officers hung their heads at the news, their hearts sinking like lead. They had both known Wolford fairly well—had sat with him at Verdant when they'd run into him on the night of Joseph and Jamie's first date. He was a good man, a good cop.

"I tackled the bison after he c-cut Wolford's throat," Joseph continued shakily. "I knocked him down, but he threw me through a window and ran off before I could get up. The tiger was already d-dead, but Wolford was…just lying on the ground, ch-choking—"

"It's okay, buddy," Nick said comfortingly as he squeezed the boy's shoulder. "You don't have to say anymore."

"Yes, I do," the fox insisted. "I—I tried to use my coat, the one you bought me, to stop the bleeding, but…the c-cut was too deep…I…I tried to save him, but I—oh, God…"

Unable to say anything more, Joseph simply dissolved into tears and buried his face in Nick's shirt. The elder fox, knowing that there was nothing to be said, simply wrapped Joseph in a fatherly embrace as his shoulders shook like an earthquake. Judy, too, wrapped her arms around the kit from behind, pressing her face into his back as tears began to flow from her eyes as well.