AN: Arcana and all the rest: I get it, you're finding Judy frustrating. Now I admit that having Judy as a sympathetic character, while also having her as a believer in the status quo, is an incredibly tough path to follow. A razors edge if you will. The only Fic's I've had that have come anywhere near have done it by making the rest of the world so bad, that Judy just believing the collars are necessary (and nothing more) makes her a saint. Of course that really stifles the world in terms of being able to get a somewhat happy resolution.
Ignorance is also a part of this, but I can get that having Judy this ignorant and this much in denial for so long probably is very frustrating for you guys. Now, again, this was a stylistic thing on my part because I wanted humor based on Judy hilariously missing the point. From your comments, it seems that frustratingly is a much more accurate term (with the amount that's hilarious only known by you guys, not me).
Anyway... When writing humor you win some, you lose some...
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Also, Arcana, I'm afraid I'm not letting slip what my idea is in that Fic until it's released.
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Finally, reportedly one of my Readers (or ZTOP fans, at the very least) is actually one of my Sisters classmates. I meant to try and test that early, but I forgot. But not for any longer. That's right Anne at Newport girls high school, my Sister (Year 9 and in Austen house, IIR) wasn't lying! Now, go forth and irritate her!
But now, for the next chapter. Enjoy.
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Chapter 29:
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June 2002.
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It just so happened that today should have been lovely.
.
It was early summer, when every tree was filled with green leaves and the blossoms of spring had given way to the endless supply of sweet fruits that followed. The sun was high in the sky, almost reaching its zenith for the entire year. Warm, yellow, its light and heat touched almost everywhere in the town. It shone down bright from the picture postcard blue sky, which was clear as a blank canvas, bar the odd fluffy little cloud floating about here and there.
All perfect.
All white.
Almost like flying tufts of sheep wool.
It was like one of the drawings I used to do when I was still a child, back in Zootopia over ten years ago. Back when life was a slow boring struggle that could only be escaped by diving into these fantasies, scribbling them out on scraps of paper up in my old room of the tailor shop while I made up stories in my head of what our new life would be like. A life where everyone had mores hours to play than there were in a day. Where crying was banned and there was more food than you could ever imagine. Where everyone was your friend and you friends with everyone. Where no one got old, or ill, or sad or sick…
I suppose we were lucky, being so successful and not having a tragedy until now. Sure, some of the older Preds had died. Some too young, of illnesses that we might have been able to cure back in Zootopia. But that was all part of the cost we paid to be here and besides, the hate and the collars may well have tripped their hearts up much earlier in their lives compared to when they stopped beating here. It was all part of the cost we'd agreed to. The cost we gladly paid to be free…
But this though…
This was never supposed to be part of the price.
The tragedy was never supposed to be this…
.
Dressed simply, I walked by myself along the shopping arcade, shrugging off the looks of sympathy coming from the few mammals that passed me by. Barely a week had passed since it started, the first hurried words of warning called out as May turned to June, barely a day since I'd come down from the mountain with my mate on my back.
It was four days ago, that it turned from a fear to a dread, striking home as it sought out someone so very, very close to my heart.
It was three since I found myself fed up with the way that other mammals now treated me. I didn't want their sympathy. I didn't want them to feel sorry for me. I wasn't the one who needed their care and attention!
I dared to glance up…
I regretted it.
Another look of sympathy. Another look of sadness from a bear of all things, a mammal that had no idea of what I… no, what she was being put through.
For a second I wanted to punch him. To scream and shout. To make him understand that I wasn't some useless, helpless Fox who was powerless.
Who needed his sympathy and attention.
Instead I gave him a quick wave of thanks and carried on by myself. Mock politeness for the mock politeness he'd given me. If I had to hazard a guess on why I didn't lash out, I'd suppose it was due to the fact that he was right.
Or at least part right.
I was a helpless Fox, who was currently powerless and at the mercy of others. For the first time since leaving Zootopia, I was feeling like the world was against me. Only this time, it wasn't the faceless hordes of Prey mammals with their hate and prejudice and ignorance. It was something far older…
Far more powerful.
But still something with no face, bar those of its victims.
Something which, in our hubris, we'd all forgotten about. Which we didn't even think of or consider or pay any attention to. It was like an ancient deity that used to cull through the men and women of the earth in ancient times until it had been banished away and forgotten. It didn't care that we couldn't 'worship it' in the same way that others had in the past to banish it, and unleashed it had returned, not caring who it struck down as it came back, simply attacking those who were vulnerable to it without mercy.
No one had ever paid it so much as an ounce of attention.
And dear god, were we paying the price for it now.
Dear god were we sorry.
I walked into one of the café's, my ears flicking somewhat as the usual hubbub of talk failed to materialise. Instead it was a soft, quiet murmur that only got more-so as they saw just who had entered. It was too much… far too much.
"Just get on with your day," I muttered spitefully as I shuffled towards the counter at the end, not wishing to be the buzzkill that I evidently was. Instead of asking for my order, one of the giant otters behind the desk simply nodded and silently went about getting it as impersonally as possible. I'd been coming here three days now. Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner, and each time I collected the money in my paws, ready to slam it down on her counter before she could dare tell me that it was on the house.
I didn't need any sympathy.
I didn't want any sympathy.
And what did they know! Huh!? All these mammals just judging and judging and judging and lying… Unless they were suffering the same tragedy, how could they possible empathise? The bitterness kept on swimming through my mind as I threw down the coins and picked up the bowl of fish broth, its fragrant steam filling up the air as I turned to leave. I only paused to give the otter a quick thank you, mock politeness, and then I was off.
Out, out from the small front room full of mammals whose enjoyment of their day was obviously disturbed by me.
Out, away from those all those judging me or talking about me when my back was turned, all with those damned mocking looks of sympathy in their eyes.
I didn't want them…
I didn't need them…
They still kept coming, even though I could do nothing with them and had no way of giving them all to the one person in the whole world who needed it…
.
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It was if the whole town had been poisoned by this, rather than just a small portion. You used to have children out in the open, running and jumping and screaming and playing out on the grassy field. With sticks in their paws they acted out crazy fantasies, became heroes or villains and then switching sides faster than a coin could be tossed. You could just sit back and listen to them, shouting out made up stories that contained no sense or reason or drama at all, but kept them as entertained as could be none the less.
Now, at most, they just walked past with their heads hung low. Their voices quiet. Either silent or worried. Some Bears and some Felines hung about on a climbing frame while a racoon slowly swung on a swing. Some stouts, a ferret and a weasel were playing hopscotch and here or there, another child turned up to join in with something while another one left. And in all the crowd, just like it had been back at the cafe earlier, not a single canine was among them.
The change in mood hung over the town like a mist, seeping into everything and everywhere, but it was better this way. Better that their joy wasn't filtering through to me, or that they were coming up to me to ask me to join in. I just wanted to be alone to think about everything in my own time, at my own pace, without any other mammals trying to get in. Because, even though I tried to never let them see it, they did get to me… Just in the complete opposite way of what they, in their blind childish optimism, expected.
Looking either way, I skulked into Honey's house, weaving through the racks and shelves of produce that filled the front room. Unlike the hot, salty smell of fish from the previous cafe, this shop was filled with hundreds of smaller, finer scents.
Herbs…
Medicines…
In some cases, both.
Being as careful as we were, we'd stocked up on huge numbers of drugs and pills when we'd left Zootopia, and each new arrival would bring in more. Of course, they were almost always off the shelf, so it was all basic at best. Even so, it was the best we had to offer, and the best would have to do.
Madge was there, Honey's older sister, who'd taught herself first aid and had even done basic surgery, meaning that she was one of the closest things we had to a doctor. Knowing her personally, and knowing that she was helping, I smiled for real this time, though nothing much more. The Honey Badger just smiled in return, knowing not to speak, and passed forward the dust she'd prepared. Our most powerful painkillers, sleeping medicine, decongestants and a mix of herbs that was supposedly used in ancient times. I give her my coin and poured it into the soup, letting it dissolve up into nothing. I turned to go, only for my ears to prick at a very unwelcome sound. A voice…
"It's going to be OK, Nick."
I couldn't help but bare my teeth at that statement. How… HOW! How could she be so sure of that! I didn't know if I growled or not, but I marched out of the little pharmacy and practically bolted back towards my own house.
Paw in front of paw. Step by step. Head down, ears shut, eyes just following the slabs of the road till I reached my house.
Through the front door.
Through the empty shop, the splendid bolts of fabric on all sides getting covered in accumulating cobwebs and dust. We had the time to clean it, but no one had the heart.
Through the abandoned lounge, silent as it had been for days, and then up the stairs. My ears were already pricking at the pitiful sounds.
Through the kitchen, down the corridor, second on the right…
Into my sister's room, where I joined the four mammals already there. I slipped past them, putting the food down onto the bedside table and kneeling down to look at her. My sister… My poor, poor Lynn.
.
She looked so weak…
So very, very weak…
If I didn't remember her so strongly, I wouldn't have recognised her as the chirpy, bouncy little Vixen who'd giggled about and played with her friends just a week ago. Who stropped and was fussy and wouldn't touch the food that she couldn't get enough of the year before. Who, aged eight, had already got a mortal enemy and a long past of war and fighting, and had showed me all the scribble like drawings of the crazy traps she was going to use to prank her. Who had boundless energy, until the moment she got in from playing out with her friends at which point she'd collapse onto the lounge floor and curl up into a ball in her sleep. Who was curious about everything and then didn't want to learn about anything and was then looking about again as if everything was the most interesting thing in the world.
But instead of her wide eyes that had looked out with a sparkle in them, the amber irises that I occasionally caught a glimpse of were dull and tired. The edges were gummed up with sick, putrid off-white mucus that caught on all the fur it touched, gluing it all together where it helped to make her occasional eyelid movements so painfully slow. But it was her nose that was bearing the most of it. The snot was brown there, clogging her up so much that each breath sounded like a pained whine. Producing the vile substance must have been the one thing she was good at the moment, as with each breath and each minute more of it oozed out from her. Even now I watched it as it slowly made its way out of her nostrils before dribbling through the fur above her lip, fusing it together into a gross matt of filth that stank of sickness and decay. At first, we'd tried wiping it off. Then cutting it off. In the end, we'd just given up.
Mum and Dad were just looking on, practically reduced to shadows which hung faintly and silently by the wall. They clung to Mrs Badger as if for dear life, though she too seemed to be as still as a statue.
There was a whine.
A soft whine.
A pained whine.
A whine so faint that I nearly missed it.
I did catch it though, and as my ears swivelled forward I looked down at Lynn, tears slowly seeping from her eyes as she tried to move. One of her paws was out, trying to grab one of her stuffed toys and bring it in tight. Just barely, she managed to catch it with one of her claws and pull it in. As she hung on to it for comfort, slowly fussing through the orange felt with her paws and muzzle, I leant in to comfort her too.
"Don't worry Sis," I whispered, "Nicky's here with lunch and some things to make you better."
She didn't respond, staying silent as I came in close to hug her, my cheek fur rubbing against her blankets as I move in to cup her little head under my chin. I brought my arms in from the side, one curling around her back to protect her while the other went to her face, to stroke and pet. As my paw pads touched her cheek, I couldn't help but feel how hot she was. Even through all her fur, I could still tell that she was burning up.
"N…."
"Yes Lynn," I whispered again, smiling as she tried to speak. I lifted my head up and turned to face her, looking her in the one eye that was facing up, despite it being closed, and smiled as best as I could.
"Nick…" she managed to whisper out, her voice hoarse, weak and almost inaudible, the one syllable of my name a pained and tiring struggle to get out. As she said it, she lifted her head up so her stubby little muzzle was pointing towards me, her eyelids fluttering as she opened them so that she could look me in my eyes. I looked straight back into her eyes in return, her terrified, terrified eyes, never wanting to break contact.
"Don't worry, it's me Sis." I said again, reassuring her as I gently massaged her scalp. "It's your big brother, here to keep you safe. Here to…"
"I… I'm not hungry," she moaned, before her eyes closed and her head rolled away from me. I stayed silent, just moving back in closer, my tears joining hers, until someone else broke the silence without warning.
"You need to eat, Lynn."
Shaken by the sudden words, I turned up to see Mrs Badger standing there, just as she had been for the last half hour. I could tell that she was getting impatient, and while some part of me was naturally angry, I had to accept that she had a right to be so. However much I wanted her here at all times, I knew that there were a dozen other families going through this exact same pain right at this moment. I glanced down at Lynn, her eyes closed as if asleep but her breath heavy, before turning back up to look at both Mrs Badger and my Mum. My poor Mum who looked even more tired than my Sis, worried and terrified by what was happening to her while her heart slowly split in two from the pain. She hadn't slept, or even left Lynn's bedside ever since she fell sick. The fur around her eyes was stained by the tears she had cried. There was a short harrumph, as Mrs Badger reminded us of what had to be done, before Mum went over to the soup bowl and picked it up. I moved to the side as Mrs Badger came in close, taking her time to slowly stroke Lynn. "You need to keep your strength up to fight the virus," she said, her tone calming down as she waved Mum in close. "And the soup has your medicine in, medicine that will make it less painful and easier to breath."
Dad came over too, and together he and I worked our fingers behind Lynn's head and then cradled it in our paws. Lifting her up and pushing her back so that she was sitting up in her bed, the piles of blankets she was buried under rolling off of her like snow sliding off a roof, we all watched as Mum brought the food over, ready to feed her.
"Please sweetie," Dad said, his calm voice cracking here and there, betraying how desperate he was. "Please, eat for Dad…"
"And for your Big Brother," I added, before Mum spoke too, her voice soft and doting between her sobs.
"And for me, my precious little Vixen. You can do that Lynn, can't you? Come on big girl, you like this soup. It'll be tasty and help you get better."
The soup was placed under her muzzle, the rising aroma sending her nose into a set of soft twitches. Her eyelids fluttered and then strained as they slowly half opened. Managing a faintest of faint grins, she tipped her head down and her tongue appeared, the pink appendage slowly rolling out before dipping into the broth. A sigh of relief flowed across the assembled crowd as the soft sound of her lapping up the food rang out, Mum smiling faintly before she quickly dropped her feeding spoon and just let Lynn lap it all up straight from her bowl. Slowly but surely, lick by lick, the food and medicine began vanishing down her. In that time, Mrs Badger had left and Mum smiled a full, genuine smile as she witnessed the tiny victory in front of her.
Maybe a battle had been won?
But the war still raged on. None of us knew if we were winning. Or loosing… Or who knows?
It was no use thinking about that. Instead it just helped to focus on holding Lynn up, stroking her too hot head a dozen times a minute or so as she carried on eating.
Eating like a baby Kit?
Yes.
But it was eating none the less.
She'd got about three-quarters of the way through when things went wrong. Very wrong.
I'm guessing Dad spotted it first, as I saw his head cock to the side in curiosity before I too saw it. The twitching of her lips. It was far too violent to be shivering, which we'd largely eliminated thanks to the blankets, so we knew that it was one of the trembling fits that had been hitting her for the last two days. Her mouth chattering up and down, as if she was half trying to snap at something, half trying to nibble.
Mum saw it and pulled the food away, expecting it to calm down and the feeding to continue.
Instead it got far worse. Her jaw bites got wider and wider, as if trying to tear into some hanging fruit, while a fraught pleading cry of terror escaped her tiny muzzle as her eyes darted around in confusion. I glanced up to see Mum giving Dad a terrified look, before Lynn's teeth bared and that cry turned to a feral growl. The entire pile of blankets erupted as her limbs began kicking and clawing, tearing the sheet beneath into shreds all while her head thrashed about as if she were a maniac. Letting go of her, I pulled back in shock and just watched as she slipped out of Dad's paws, falling back into her bed where the convulsions got worse and worse.
"GET CHLOE!" Mum screamed, as Dad stood up and bolted out of the door. I heard him thunder down the stairs before I turned back to my sister, looking at what had become of her. Beneath the piles of blankets, she kicked as if she were almost trying to swim. Frantically pushing and pushing her limbs, I looked into to her face to see her eyes almost sealed shut. The few times I saw them open enough to gaze in at her eyes, my heart sank as I saw them tremble about in panic and terror, even though they likely betrayed just a fraction of how scared my brave little sister really was. I just stood there silent, having no idea of what to do to make it better. Mum, meanwhile, was in tears, just screaming out loud again and again. "LYNN! LYNN PLEASE!"
I didn't know if she could hear her or not, but her frontpaw convulsions slowed and she tried to steady herself. Through ragged breaths, made worse as she tried to breathe through her gammed up nose, I heard her strain as she took control of her front-paws and planted them on the torn mattress. She paused, breathing deep for a few seconds as tears flowed from her eyes, and then she pushed up, using all her strength, concentration and willpower. Trembling, Lynn rose up and looked at Mum, both mammal's eyes now pouring with tears of sadness and fear, but a smile of desperate hope growing on their faces. Her hind legs twitched and then they too came under control and, shaking as she did so, she managed to rise onto all four paws. She looked up at Mum, who was trying to dry her tears and compose herself, and managed to open her eyes fully as she walked forwards.
She managed one pace forward.
Then another.
Before her limbs buckled and Lynn keeled over again, growling and whining as she did so. Her eyes were once more filled with terror as yet another seizure began to rack her, and Mum and I could do nothing but watch and cry.
.
.
"I think that confirms it…"
"Confirms what," I asked as I stroked my sleeping sister, even though we all knew the answer. I just didn't want to believe it. Not after what I'd read about it. Heard about it…
"Distemper," Mrs Badger continued, her voice grim with worry. She had every right to be, because among Canines and various other sets of mammals, it had been once been one of the most dreaded killers of all. "One…" she continued, stuttering a bit as she talked. "One of the new arrivals has died from it. He was in his thirties, and from what I gather he grew up on the streets. He never got his shots."
"He got his collar though, didn't he?" my Dad half growled from across the room, his teeth bared and claws out, paws curled up into fists. He'd been pacing back and forth ever since he returned, just watching over Lynn. Just like me he was angry, angry at the Zootopians for doing this to her.
'Whmmmmph….'
I turned back to face her, and watched with pity as another set of convulsions racked her tiny body. Her jaw was scowling open and saliva was pouring out in waves, soaking her fur and blankets, all while she whined.
"She's going to be all right, isn't she?" Mum asked, suddenly sounding very hopeful and sure of herself, although I could easily pick up the fear in her voice, lingering like a shadow in the background. The fear that the answer would be no.
Mrs Badger was silent, rapping her toe claws as she thought, before she gave her answer. "I'm not an expert… but I do know that she should be coming to the end of the primary fever. Overnight, it should recede rapidly. She'll still have the disease, and have and second fever round after a week or so, but…"
"But?" Dad asked, leaning over Mrs Badger as he desperately waited for the answer.
"But it should be less serious than this one." She replied, to the sighs of relief from my Parents. "There will likely be complications, but we'll put her on a round of antibiotics to stave off any further secondary infections in the short term. Won't do much to help beat the virus, bar freeing up bits of her immune system here and there, but it's the most we can do."
"And in the long term?" I asked as I stroked her hand with my paw, my pads lingering over her now significantly harder ones.
"I see your looking at her Pads."
"I've read that this was called hardpad disease," I replied. "I can see why."
"Hardpads might be a pain, but they're easily manageable," Mrs Badger replied, as she leant down next to me to observe them. She slowly took one of Lynn's paws and carefully exposed the pads beneath, taking the time to slowly prod each one gently with her own claws, before turning back to us. "Back in Zootopia Equids wore iron shoes to protect their hooves from impact damage, and I'm sure a good tailor like your father, and you for that matter, could branch out into shoes and boots."
"Yeh," I replied, still doting on my sister as I carried on speaking. "Maybe make some nice big boots for her. Brown with a metal buckle or something on them, I think she'll like that. Won't you Sis?"
Lynn's only reply was her heavy, strained breaths. The question went unanswered for a dozen seconds or so, until Mrs Badger picked up from where she'd left off. "Exactly, and in any case, while I'm no expert, these seem to be in good condition. No cracks or anything."
"So, she'll be fine," Mum said as she too came over close, this time to pick up Lynn and cuddle her close against her chest, gently bouncing her up and down as she did so. Even in her torpor like state, Lynn knew what was happening and smiled, slowly nuzzling into Mum's chest fur as she sought out its comforting warmth and scent.
"I can't guarantee that. There is a slim chance that she'll suffer neurological deterioration, but I must stress that this is highly unlikely. Incontinence is unlikely but possible, and she may develop a neurological tic or twitch. Also, how many adult teeth does she have?"
Mum paused, thinking, before carefully opening Lynn's mouth with a claw to check. "Her front teeth and one of her canines… She lost another canine just before this. Is that important?"
Mrs Badger nodded. "The disease can commonly weaken developing teeth, making them weak and brittle. We have little sugar in our diet which helps, but no fluorine in our water which doesn't. Regardless, I'd advise that if she survives…"
"When," Dad interrupted sternly, before letting Mrs Badger continue.
"If she survives" she said, ignoring Dad's scowl, "then you put her on a very strict dental program."
He paused, turning away and giving a faint, weak chuckle. "Sounds like you're trying to sell more of your homemade toothbrushes and paste…" He muttered, although silence filled the air as his joke fell flat. It was only when another whimper came out of Lynn, and her convulsions forced Mum to put her back down, that the silence was broken by Mrs Badger.
"Marie, John… She may die," she announced glumly. "But if she survives tonight, and dear god is she fighting, then we should be past the darkest hour. Keep her warm, keep her fed, keep her loved. There's nothing more I can…"
She was silenced as the bang of the front door below being slammed open echoed through the building. We all paused as we heard the sound of a mammal racing up the stairs, before Madge Badger burst into the room panting.
"Madge…" her Mum began to stay, only to be interrupted by her daughter.
"Antibodies in the milk!"
"What?"
"Mothers pass antibodies to their babies in their milk!"
"You… You'll have to explain this," Mrs Badger stuttered out, as an excited Madge made her way over to my Mum.
"Mrs Wilde's been selling her milk to the creamery ever since she weaned Lynn, hasn't she?"
"Yes," her mother replied, her mouth piquing with interest as she did so. "I've been selling her a tradition herb mix to keep the rate up for years."
"And she got a distemper shot back in Zootopia!"
There was a pause, then as the realisation hit the rest of the crowds everyone's faces lit up. For the first time in days I saw hope, true hope, in my mother's eyes as she stood up, before racing off. She'd been milking herself for years, to the point where even in this crisis she'd done it out of habit. What she didn't have time for was moving the tubs over to the creamery, meaning that we had a ready supply here in the house. As the two Honey badgers left, aiming to spread their realisation to anyone else who it may help, we woke Lynn up and slowly fed her.
It was painful and slow, forcing the liquid down her. A few times, she gargled it up and let it dribble down her front. We just recovered what we could and carried on, maybe spending some time to wipe the gunk out of her fur. Slowly but surely, we worked through the supply and eventually, as it approached dinner time, Lynn had drunk all the milk.
Maybe it wouldn't help?
But even though her coughing, wheezing and shaking continued. Even though her eyes still looked out with fear or cried with sadness, gummed up with white mucus and pus and, on a few occasions, having one of her pale white nictitating membranes stuck partway over the eye… Even though her fever raged on and her breath wheezed through her hard, blocked up nose…
We had hope.
I had hope…
My sister was going to survive the night, and live.
.
As night fell, I brought my own basket into my parent's room and we moved Lynn over into it. There was enough room in there for two mammals plus her, so Dad decided to sleep in his own bed for the night. That left Mum and I snuggling up with her. Keeping her warm. Giving her company and comfort through her darkest hour. We wrapped in around her, embracing so that she was surrounded my familiar fur on either side, with a thick blanket on top to keep her warm.
It was crowded.
It was hot.
But neither Mum or I would have it any other way.
Lynn had come back too an hour or so ago, and so we both took the time to give her a preening. She may have been covered in spit, mucus, days old food and gunk, but we'd be damned if she didn't get the tender loving care that she deserved. While she still groaned or whimpered with pain, the odd sound of a purr here and there made our hearts swell, even though our tongues were soon laced with the taste of oil, dirt, mucus and other fluids. We'd do it all ten times over just to get another purr from her. To make her know that we wouldn't be abandoning her. That things were going to be okay.
.
Mum and Lynn fell asleep before me, rather easy as her kicks kept on coming in my direction. At one point I almost cried out in pain as one of her claws caught me, but still I stayed by her side. It was much later on, as the slats of moonlight filtered in through Dad's 'rooflight' that she woke.
"Niiiick…." She mewled out, her voice sounding slightly stronger. Her voice alone would have roused me, but pricking my ears as I heard her strength begin to return, I wasted no time in pulling off my sleeping mask to look on her face.
"Yes dear?" I asked, smiling as my night vision let me see her amber eyes fully open, glistening in the moonlight. However, I couldn't help but notice the fear in them. Nor the way her legs were beginning to convulse again, while her lower jaw trembled as if she were shivering.
"Am… Am I… Am I going to… to…to die?" She managed to say through her shakes, her voice breaking as she said it and tears beginning to flow from her eyes.
My ears folding back with worry, I pushed myself closer to her and planted a soft kiss on her burning hot nose. "No Lynn," I told her, cradling the back of her head with my paw as I brought her in for a hug, feeling her small hot body against mine and curling up to protect it. "You are going to live!" I said, not a word being a lie.
It was a certainty.
It was a simple fact.
My sister was going to live.
"Nick…" she managed to say again, as she began to sob. In the moonlight, I saw the gleam of tears coming out of her gammy eyes as she carried on. "I'm… I'm scared…"
"Don't be!" I told her. "Because you, Lynn Francine Wilde, are a brave girl. You are a strong girl. A big strong girl who's going to live on and who's going to have a great, great life. You remember last month, two days after your birthday when we played together on the beach?"
She nodded ever so slightly, but the smile she managed to put on her pale, quivering and twitching lips told me how much she remembered. All of it.
"Remember running on the sands Lynn? Building our sandcastles and the huge game of football you and your classmates played, where I'd been the referee. Me teaching you to skip stones on the bay and how we went for long swims in the cold water. We'd splash and play about until we were shivering to the bone! Then we raced out and furiously dug out holes above the tideline didn't we? All down on all fours, our front paws shovelling out sand behind us, or in your case onto your tail, before we both buried ourselves in warm sand. You said that you were bored after ten or so minutes, and so I blew raspberries at you, and you me, and I told jokes that made you laugh…"
Even in her dire state, I saw her giggle, before she rolled her eyes and her lips parted, miming out the words 'three humped camel…'
"Pregnant!"
I smiled as I watched the shadow of giggle crawl across her muzzle, before she pulled in a deep breath and spoke in a quiet voice, but one the was clear and smooth. "I remember burrowing out and licking your ears…"
"I remember that too!" I replied, giggling back with her. "You sure know how to tickle your big-bro!"
She nodded, and I leant in to kiss her. "Wanna hear another joke?"
She nodded slightly, but I frowned, shaking my head.
"I want to you speak out, like the strong girl you are Lynn."
"Okay," she whispered back. "I wanna hear another joke."
"There you go! Not too hard is it for my brave little Sister. Now, what do you call a cow's facial hair?"
She paused, her eyes closing as she thought for a bit, before she shrugged. "I don't know…"
"A Moostache!"
.
There was a pause, before Lynn curled up and began chuckling. I smiled as I watch her try and hold her laugh in, only for it to squeak out of her muzzle as it ran its course. Her eyelids were closing again, and I could tell that she was going to sleep, so I chose to give her a message to keep the bad dreams away. "You, Lynn Wilde, are going to live. We're going to be back on that beach in less than a month, and we're going to make that day look like the most boring lesson in school! You got me?"
She nodded, and I nodded too. "I'm gonna live…"
"You're gonna live," I replied and, as she drifted back to sleep, her paws and muzzle burying deep into the warmth of my fur for comfort as I kissed her, I said it again. Because I believed it.
Because it was the truth.
Because damn this disease…
My Sister, Lynn Wilde, was going to live.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I said it again when I woke up early in the morning, as the dawns light flowed in and heralded a new day…
.
.
.
I said it again as I felt the warm fur against me, slowly moving as it breathed in and out, stirring as the light woke her up.
.
.
.
And I said it again as I felt the cold nose, and cold pads, and cold fur up against me, still cuddled between us and only moving when we moved it…
.
.
.
I said it again as I cradled my sister, sitting up now and holding her tight against me as my eyes began to mist. Telling her, ordering her! Trying to get her to wake up and smile and to laugh as she always did, even as I felt her stiff limbs splay out as I held her close in my arms…
.
.
.
I said it again as my Mum woke up. She blinked, her mouth quivering as she slowly put her hand out and took Lynn from me. Holding my sister against her body, she gently rocked and bounced her up and down and closed her eyes as the tears began to flow out. She was silent at first. Then came a sob. Then the cries as she just said my Sisters name over and over again, as if saying it enough would bring her back.
"Lynn…"
"Lynn…..
"LYNN!"
Her cries exploded into full on screams. I just watched as my Mum wailed and shook, breaking down into tears as she took her baby closer and closer into her arms, hugging her tight and fussing with her fur as she did so.
I saw whatever hope she had left in her eyes vanish, as she stopped believing that her little Vixen would live.
I just stood there silent, not knowing what to do.
What to think.
I never knew when I stopped believing…
.
.
.
"I'm sorry for your loss," Mrs Clawhauser told me, as I stood by the gates of the school a few days later. She was quiet, her voice almost hoarse, and just like the liars before she was doing her mock politeness as society dictated. I didn't care this time though. Any insult I would have got from it just sailed over my head. It was the same for any relief, or comfort or whatever else I should have felt too.
"Thank you," was all I could say, before I slowly turned and began walking off. Away from the school, and the kids who were still attending. Still playing. Their crazy little games and happiness filled screams slowly fading away as I returned home. I'd wandered out as usual, ready to drop my sister off at the school in the morning. I'd dropped by the bakery, to pick up our food. When they only gave one pie, I asked where the second one was and without saying a word they gave it to me.
Maybe I should stop doing this trip anymore?
I had to admit, it was rather pointless.
My Sister was gone.
I knew that Lynn had died, of course I knew that. That was why I'd left her pie on the stone where we usually sat to eat our breakfast. She wasn't here to eat it, was she? I still ate the pastry case though, seeing as she didn't like that part.
Maybe she'd have learned to like it given a few more years?
The sky was a beautiful blue, the forests a deep green while the mountains up above were a beautiful pastel shade. The chirping of insects was everywhere, as were the calls and cries of children, still echoing out from the school. But the colours just seemed so much greyer, and the laughter so much more muffled now. It was same for the food, even the nicest and sweetest things that I could buy tasting almost, but not quite, like porridge oats or gruel, whatever it really was. I opened the door to our shop, ignoring the closed sign, and walked past the dust gathering racks of fabric. I went into the lounge, passing the cold fireplace, and walked out into the garden. Passing overgrown flowerbeds and berry bushes whose fruit was more often than not rotting off, I found a deck chair and sat down in it. Closing my eyes, and just sitting there.
Silent.
Alone.
Not feeling anything, or anyone. Two days had passed, and I hadn't cried or screamed or sobbed, or anything really. I hadn't broken down like my Mum, or gone into a terrible rage like my Dad, who ended up smashing a table and chewing on its leg as he screamed out…
In pain.
In rage.
In sorrow.
Both Mum and Dad had known what to do, accepting Lynn's death and dealing with it in ways they saw fit.
I didn't know what to do.
I just knew that my sister was gone…
.
.
.
"Farewell Sis," I told the wrapped corpse as we lit the funeral pyre. I stepped back as I watched the fire race through the bundles of sticks and the oil coated wood. Soon it was blazing, crackling and roaring, the tiny body of the little Vixen lost in the flames. My Mum just wailed and wailed, unable to stand or speak, while my Dad comforted her, letting her rest upon him for support. His head leaning in, he softly nuzzled her while sobbing himself. There were other fires too on that day. Just as there had been the day before. Just as there were the day after.
At all of them, I noticed other mammals doing the things that you'd expect.
Unlike me…
Maybe I was sick in the head, or some psychopath?
Maybe I had no empathy, or no emotions?
Maybe I was a freak, or a monster…
All I knew was that my sister was gone…
Out of the fifty mammals, forty of them canines, who'd caught the disease. Who'd closed their eyes and gritted their teeth as the distemper burned through them. Who'd suffered the pain, and the shakes, some of whom may have been crippled for life now.
A dozen had died.
All of them, bar patient zero, were young children…
Heh, nice use of a scientific term there…
I watched silently as the others cried. Their wails tugged me too, tearing and pulling at me and I felt myself mist up, but I didn't really see why I should be crying. My body didn't want to cry. Even though the tears should have been pouring out, they just didn't come.
I knew then that I probably was some kind of monster.
A new thing I knew.
Along with the fact that my sister was gone…
.
.
.
I stood back at the small plot in the cemetery as I finished help Mum plant Lynn's grave. We'd scattered her ashes in a carved stone pot, settled down on a flat slab of rock. Burying her dust under the dirt, Dad had returned with some foxgloves, which we'd planted over her. So that their roots would work down, and take what was left of her, and grow strong from her.
All of it was hemmed in and guarded with a small metal fence, the railings painted jet black but otherwise undecorated. In time, I guessed, nature would do that for us. Mosses would grow on the urn. Wildflowers would grow up around it and through the fence, hiding it. A crown of pink and purples and white foxgloves would grow on top of it. But now, the whole place was as unadorned as the simple words that had been carved and embossed into a jet black slab of slate, which we'd tied onto the railing and where it would stand, long after we too were gone.
.
Lynn Francine Wilde.
1994-2002.
Taken from us too soon by Distemper.
Aged 8.
.
I just shrugged as I read it.
Were they supposed to tug at me?
Affect me?
As far as I could see, those were simply all facts… Facts that were true…
Together with Dad, I held my crying Mum up as we took her away, and I thought about all the things that I missed about Lynn. Hundreds of happy, love filled memories struck out. Thoughts about how she brightened up my day to day routine, be cheeky, or fussy. How you could go from hating her and loving her at the same time, to just loving her fully in less than a minute or so…
I shook my head.
No use crying over it.
My sister was gone…
.
.
.
"How're you holding up Nick…"
It had been one week. One tired, dull and boring week since Lynn died and everything sort of changed, as if all the colour had been taken from the world.
I'd gone back to work.
That was okay…
Boring though.
And here I was talking with Hester, about how I was coping. I stood in the front room, working on some stitching as she came over to hug me around the shoulder. Her touch was warm and soft, and I felt myself relax as she pulled me into a silent hug, her cheek fur nuzzling against mine.
Putting down my work, I weakly hugged her back, my muzzle against her fur as I smelled in her scent. Her warm scent. Her scent filled with love and cheekiness, that reminded me of my sister. Her scent filled with the scents of the land and sea and, of course, Fox.
.
Just like my sisters…
.
Hester's scent, that made me want to stand by her and protect her. Die for her…
.
Just like with my Mum, when she was having my sister.
.
Just like…
.
Just like…
.
Just like Lynn's scent...
.
I sobbed… I sobbed again and pulled into Hester tight, my arms wrapped around her back and my paws clawing into her skin as I tried to hold on, suddenly scared at what was happening.
The tears just kept on coming out and out, and I struggled to breath.
Struggled to think.
.
About anything…
.
Except Lynn…
.
I realised what was happening, and like a slave I let it happen. My sobs turned into cries.
My cries into screams.
And the dam finally broke after one week. One week where I'd walked around with a hole torn in my heart. One week where I'd walked around, just doing things, like a good robot would. Not wanting to feel. Not knowing what to feel. And all that time, just thinking and grieving…
.
About how I was missing her. How I was missing her every single day and hour and minute and second. How I missed her so much that I didn't want to think about her. Be reminded that she wouldn't pop or run out of a door and past me or to me or into me at any second.
.
About all the fun we'd had together. All the fun we were going to have together…
.
About the hole her death had caused, how it had torn me apart.
And broken me.
.
"MY SISTER IS GONE!" I screamed, wailing into Hester as I just shook and shook and shook, clinging onto her for dear life as she held me back tight. Tear after tear just kept pouring out as I remembered her. I remembered the times we'd played and laughed and joke and bickered and snuggled and… and…
And all the times we could have had.
All this time I didn't know how to grieve for Lynn, thinking that I was coping by bottling it up, but it was like letting a cancer grow inside of my, slowly making me weaker and weaker. Only now it was coming out, and I felt nothing but the sobs and wails racking my body as Hester slowly picked me up and guided us, together, into a chair.
We sat down together, me still hugging her and crying into her, still desperate for her soft comforting fur and scent to help me through this. A shoulder to cry on. Someone to take my fear and sadness from me. I hugged her tight, my tears still flowing, and she hugged me back as I felt the drips of her tears falling onto me.
She never left me, just like I never left Lynn. She would stay with me, together, until the end.
Only this time there was a happy end, and knowing that I just cried and wailed and sobbed some more.
It must have been hours that we sat there. She, holding me tight and being there for me. Me, shaking and crying. Scared and helpless.
Only this time, my tears and cries ended with me alive.
Ready to face another day…
And as I recovered, slowly standing up as I breathed in and tried to think, I felt better.
My Sister was gone.
She was never coming back.
And it had broken me. It had made me sadder than I'd ever been before. Made me feel things that I never wanted to feel again.
But it was over now. I'd still be sad for a long time, but slowly the clouds would pass.
But, knowing what life was life under them, I realised something. And so, after taking a stiff drink to calm my nerves, I went back to the lounge and prepared.
Got Ready.
Ready to tell Hester something I'd realise about what that week meant for me. What that pain meant for me.
And what it meant for her.
It was something that she had to know.
.
.
"What do you mean, what I want Nick?" She asked incredulously, tilting her head sharply to the side as she did so. I paused, still dabbing my eyelids to dry the moisture left from the endless tears, before I continued.
"You… you wanted Kits, didn't you?" I asked her, before I saw her nod slowly. I'd seen how she'd doted over Lynn, and the other children in the school. Heck, she was going to work as a teacher sooner or later, that was how much she loved the little ones. But it was in there that the problem lay.
"When I lost… when I lost Lynn," I slowly said, struggling as I tried to put my thoughts into words. "It was like someone had torn out my heart. I didn't know what to feel, I think I just operated like a machine for a week or so until…"
"Until I helped you," she interrupted, a smile growing on her muzzle.
"Yes, but I still miss her. I still hurt Hess, even now… And it's a horrible pain. Horrible, horrible…"
"Horrible?"
I couldn't help but chuckle, but my mood soon returned to its sour state. "What I'm saying is that I never want to go through that again Hess! I never want to experience something that bad… or put myself at risk of something that bad again… And for what they say about Foxes mating for life, I'm certain you can still find a brave Todd who isn't a coward like me and…"
SLAP…
I yipped in pain as I felt the flat of her paw smack into me, almost knocking me to the floor. I looked up at her, still cradling my stinging muzzle, as she went forward and hugged me.
"You dumb Fox," she muttered, "You dumb, dumb, dumb Fox…"
"Care to explain," I moaned, before she pulled back and kissed me gently on my nose.
"You're still grieving," she said slowly, taking the time to explain it. "You'll get better though. You'll soon be back to form, and even if you aren't, I'm not gonna mate with anyone else! Foxes mate for life, remember? It's a bit too late for us to find new mates now, isn't it? YOU are my mate Nick, YOU are the father of my Kits and that's the way it'll stay."
"Are you sure about that?" I muttered as I got up, turning to walk away but pausing as I sniffed another whiff of her potent scent, which practically commanded me to stay.
"I'm sure," she replied as she jumped forward and hugged me tight, before her voice went ever so sly and cheeky in the way I both feared and loved. "Besides Slick, it isn't like you have any real choice anymore, is it?"
I turned to face her, cocking my head at her remark, before my gaze and nose slowly lowered. As if on que, she unbuttoned her trousers and let them fall to the floor. Her scent was intoxicating, and I stepped forward until my nose hovered just between her legs, and I sniffed in deep and hard as she giggled, ruffling my head fur gently with her claws. Her scent screamed at me, commanding me to protect her. To serve her. To lie down my life to protect her and our…
Our…
I gulped, and suddenly feeling very scared again I tilted my head up to see whether what she was saying was right. Looking up, I saw her smile and nob, before I suddenly felt very dizzy.
I remember seeing her eyes open wide in horror, as the room suddenly spun into a blur before my vision went black.
.
.
Authors notes:
.
I advise all readers, at this moment, to listen to the song 'First we take Manhattan'.
It will provide some perspective.
