Chapter 30

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.

"Heyoo Slick…"

…

"No. My vix ain't here. Why you after her, anyways?

…

"Oh that. She kinda instructed me to contact someone who was kinda their friend apparently…"

…

"Well who decided to be one of the blue boys, huh? Listen, you wanna take this up with my vix? You take it up with my vix!"

…

Finnick hung up his phone and slipped it away.

"Important team communication?" Mr Fox asked.

"Nah. Just Slick complaining."

Kylie raised his paws. "That could just be your interpretation, you know?"

"Maybe so, maybe so," Mr Fox rounded off. "In any case, morale always nosedives when valid concerns are suppressed, so some healthy grievance sharing is always welcome," he said, pausing as he saw a pair of security rhinos march past, an angry looking ferret in a trenchcoat and a protest sign held in a cage between them.

"Sheep supremacy must be opposed! Sheep tyranny must be opposed! Bellwether was the beginning! Oppose those who want to carry on her anti-pred system of oppression. Purge the government!"

"You could have spouted this crap, outside," one of the guards huffed.

"It's only crap to you as they pay you off, wool licker!"

"No protests or campaigns inside city hall," the other grumbled. "Now do you want your fine to become a month in jail?"

"Ovine privilege is ovine violence! Prey silence is prey collaboration!"

"Jail it is!" he said, as he left the secure area of city hall. Finnick looked around, peeling his ears. Everything seemed… quieter. Many of the mammals, especially up in the overlooking office areas, dimming the chatter.

"I don't think that was welcomed," Kylie slowly commented.

Things slowly got back into motion though, Mr Fox leading Kylie and Finnick up to a set of stairs and a lift marked 'viewing gallery'. The fennec gave a glance around, his eyes narrowing as he spotted Dominic Calrama, likely known around these places as Dominic Bellwether. He didn't really have the heart to call him that, having changed his own name to get away from a jerkish family himself. Okay… His lot involved favourite playing jerks whose only vision for him was as a line toer in their miserable controlling religion and as a receptacle for constant height jokes and petty insults (before he became a non-person to them). With Dominic, he didn't want to be associated with the most despised mammal in the city, though whether he was with her or not was a different matter.

He was still a suspect, and he tapped Mr Fox as they approached the lift. "Want me to tail him?"

"Or you could stick with me, see my cunning plan, and be out in time to carry on."

"...Totally on you if he's gone."

"Totally on me in the exceedingly unlikely case. Also, when I say 'ooh interesting', have a massive coughing fit."

"Right on," he said, as the door closed and they rose up. It quickly opened again and, turning around, they were soon moving along a wide corridor. Mammals of all sizes, from giraffes and elephants to tiny shrews in little carts, moved along, eventually arriving at their destination.

Zootopia's upper house, where all elected representatives sat.

Finnick looked on from the public gallery, walled off by floor to ceiling glass panels, spotting that zebra he'd seen earlier sitting down. Right now, a short wooled sheep… No, was it a goat, had the stand. Like a number of mammals, he was in his own little plastic box, in this case being circulated with cooler air. "The fact remains that the high taxes on 'mammal goods' and the low taxes on imports mean that all Kashmir goats like myself living in the city get a terrible deal for their wool. Now, some mammals might go on about how this 'opens up more opportunities' for those of my species in our traditional, poorer, habitat. They say it helps alleviate poverty. But don't forget that many terrorist organisations, including those responsible for terrible crimes against women and children, get much of their funding by confiscating their wool and selling it through the black market. Treatment for fleas and ticks is also far harder to come by, leading to more issues, especially in kids, when they are forced to hold onto their whole coat up until it moults. Regardless of these considerations, it's simply against our cities interests to actively kill our own, drop in the ocean, kashmir industry."

Finnick was annoyed again. Why weren't they talking about the stupid protest going on outside! Stupid politicians, all the same. And why the heck was that opossum watching it like it was a blockbuster movie! Regardless, he kept quiet, idly walking around with Mr Fox as a hyrax stood up, talking about the large tax take that such levies brought in and questioning how much the goats still got per year (making the point that mammals were never meant to live off of such sales, they were just there to act as a nice bonus).

On they slowly walked, before pausing. There, below them but a few rows away, was an obese black wolf in a gaudy pink coat. Councillor Aurelia Canidae, original writer of the act that was used to put Kris away. Up above her, looking through one of the regular gaps between glass panes, Mr Fox's eyes narrowed. Flexing a paw and pulling it back into his sleeve, he stood around, acting like he was just waiting for someone. His arm made a few testing motions, before he looked down at Finnick, his mouth opening.

"-Wait," Kylie cut in, staring up. "I really want to catch the next bit!"

SERIOUSLY!? Finnick almost shouted up, but he caught a look from Mr Fox. The big vulpine and the opossum were looking at each other, Mr Fox waiting for a signal from Kylie.

An asian palm civet was up and speaking. "In terms of the taxation regimes, there is a major distinction to be made. There are those items that grow anyway: wool, ivory, antlers. They are sold as luxuries, they aren't necessities, they don't take any real time and effort to remove for sale. Indeed in many cases they have to be removed or even fall off anyway. They are luxuries and, while they can be sold as a bonus, there is no reason not to tax them. In comparison, with milk, you have an essential food source that takes more time and effort to extract. Equipment, the regulations, herbal remedies to stimulate lactation before or well after childbirth and, lest we forget, the time in which heavy physical activity is stopped. In this case, taxes are counterproductive, especially given how the income can heavily augment that of certain larger species who can produce in major quantities, especially those who are dexterously challenged." He gave a nod to the zebra mare from earlier. "Thus, as is right, no taxes should be registered here. However, a terrible imbalance and injustice exists here, given that species with the ability to refine foodstuff have their produce charged and taxed in the luxuries range. For instance, with the coffee variety kopi luwak…"

He was met with a collection of groans from the entire house floor. Indeed, the only mammal that seemed interested in what else he had to say was Kylie, who looked on and nodded. Mr Fox, watching him, spoke. "Oooh, interesting."

On hearing that, Finnick immediately coughed. He coughed again, he began doubling over as he hacked out and wheezed. His noise drew a number of stares, all of them missing Mr Fox briefly flick out his right sleeve, something small flying out from it. No one in the debating chamber did too, being in the middle of half lidding their eyes in annoyance or full on facepawing.

That was until Councillor Aurielia Canidea heard something hit the seat next to her, bounce up into the back of the desk in front of her, and then land on her lap. She jolted, glancing around before looking down at… A gift card?

Oooh, free desserts, no questions asked! She turned it over, seeing 'Enjoy a terrific treat' written on the back. Well, a break was coming up soon and she was getting a bit peckish. Hey, never say no to free desserts, right?

She licked her lips, never noticing two foxes and an opossum walking along the viewing gallery above them, their little hustle going completely unnoticed. Finnick, recovered from his fake coughing fit, was now having to hold a real one in! Kylie was smiling, while Mr Fox just had a 'yeah, I know' look of supreme smugness on his face. They traversed the whole gallery and went down again, making sure they were in a corner before either made a noise.

Mr Fox gave a double whistle and twin tongue click trademark, as Finnick burst into laughter. "You Madmammal you! That… You…"

"Was fantastic."

"Heck yeah," he said, pumping his fist up before turning to Kylie. "You too, how did you…"

"I follow politics," he said, shrugging.

"Haha… Thanks for taking that one for the team."

"But I enjoy it…" he spoke.

"Yeah, sure you do," the fennec said, before looking up at Mr Fox. "Now what?"

"And now, for me, I lie in wait," he said, looking smug.

Finnick nodded, before looking out, spotting a certain sheep making a move. "You do that," he said, flexing his paws and cracking his knuckles. "I'm off to do my thing with politics possum!"

Kylie blinked. "Oh, okay then… I guess." He gave a glance up at a shrugging Mr Fox, before following Finnick on, unable to not feel just a little unfaithful.

.

.

It didn't take long for Wolford and Catano to reach the gym and, just like had been said, Brittany Voxen was unmissable. The red fox with long blonde plaited locks was currently on a weight bench, straining and panting hard as she pushed a dumbbell up and down, listening to music as she went. "Come on," she muttered to herself. "This is past for the academy, this is for you…" Waving a paw to hold Wolford back, the cheetah stepped in, standing over the young fox for a second or two before she took notice. Frowning a bit, she stopped her pushes and sat up. "You want me?"

"Hi, I'm Officer Kii Catano," she introduced, Brittany's ears folding back hard as she said it. "Do you mind if we talk in private?"

"Uh-hu," she replied. "Can I at least get some more stuff on first?" she asked, her eyes flicking down. She was only in a crop top and exercise shorts, so the cheetah let her get changed first, before leading her into an alcove area. Compared to how she looked when exercising, she seemed to be the exact opposite kind of girl. She wore summer a dress, the fabric a warm orange that seemed like a mix between her yellow hair and red fur. Its sleeves only went to the elbows and the pleated skirt section, pinched off at her waist by a decorative chain style belt, only just passed her knees. Her mouth piqued a little, obviously seeing an unnoticed raised eyebrow. "Hey, I like it. It's pretty and comfy, 'kay?"

"Sure," Catano said, "no judging. Though it's a bit rare seeing a girl doing weights, especially one with such good fashion sense."

Brittany smiled. "Thanks. Yeah, I…" She then froze, her eyes narrowing. "Is this you buttering me up?"

"Just being friendly," Catano said, paws up. "So… you could say so."

"Right," she said, rolling her eyes before sighing. She paused, letting them hang on the ground for a second or two. "I know what this'll be about, I… -I had no clue he was doing anything like that. Heck, going home that day I was joking to my dad about idiots spreading rumours, the one about it being Kris especially! I was like, 'heh, they're saying it was Kris, at least try to be realistic.'" There was a long pause. "But it turns out he was doing that stuff and… Most of me thinks that what was seen was what was seen, and I get why so many are thinking it couldn't have been him. But if not him, then who else? But the way he was treated by that DA was totally unfair, sorry to say that."

"Why would you say that?" Catano asked, pausing as the vixen's head tilted.

"I mean, you're the police, and he was caught with nighthowlers. Lots of mammals are now kicking up a protest and everything against what you did…"

"Against what the DA did," Wolford cut in. "Trust me, cops don't like mammals who think that others should get a free pass. But we hate those who meddle with our work even more, especially when going over our Chief. Enemy of and enemy it may be, I heard a lot of cops are more for those protestors than against… Though let's see if how they act today changes that."

"Oh, okay then," she said, shrugging. "But, apart from that, I can't say anything," she said. "Just… I'd like to know why he did it. It's such a waste…" Looking down and sniffing a little, she didn't notice Catano reach into her bag.

"We're not actually here about him," she said.

"Huh?"

"We're here about this mammal." She pushed forward one of Duke's mugshots, Brittany immediately frowning.

"Gah! Him? I thought that you guys had taken him away."

"We did a month or two back, but could you repeat what you know about him?"

She shrugged. "Well he'd set up shop outside the school and try and sell you this useless junk. Knockoff pens or leaky water bottles. And he'd always pester us into buying stuff, acting like we owed him. What's the matter then, was he selling bootleg stuff again?"

"Did you ever talk with him?"

"Urgh, only to tell him to get lost."

"So, nothing about stuff inside of school. Did he ever ask any questions about stuff like that which you answered?"

"No, I…" she trailed off, her eyes widening. "You think that he's involved with Kris?"

"I cannot confirm or deny…"

"So yes," she said, jolting up. She almost doubled over, paw to her heart, breathing in and out as a massive smile grew on her muzzle and her eyes misted up. "He… he might have stitched up Kris… He was innocent?"

Catano kept calm and professional. "I can neither confirm or deny…"

"You're confirming it by proxy," Brittany sassily interrupted, sitting back down again, shaking with excitement. "Okay, he went missing about two months ago, I haven't seen him since. But on that day Ash, Kris' cousin, said that Nick Wilde and Judy Hopps arrested him for selling alcohol or something. I mean, maybe it was revenge for that. How he knew about Kris I don't know, but maybe he was going in after Ash's locker, they're basically next to each other. I, -ah, you want to know if he asked anyone about the lockers!?"

Catano couldn't help but chuckle, she was a clever one. "Did he ask anyone?"

"No," she said, her tone darkening. "-At least as far as I know." There was a long pause as she scratched her head. "Buuut… He tended to sell stuff out on one of the fields, which wasn't that far from the back of the canteen and the loading area. Go there and ask around, it's a long shot but someone might have seen him."

The cheetah nodded. Just like before, it didn't help a case, but it didn't mean that the scent trail was dry either. At the very least, though, she was happy that she'd given this mammal hope. "We'll check it out," she said. "And thanks so much for all your help, it was very useful."

"You're welcome."

"And with that kind of mind and the effort you're putting in there, you'll make a great cop too."

There was pause as Brittany drew a blank, before shaking her head and laughing. "Gah… No, I'm not training up to be a cop. It's the fire academy I was talking about. Call me crazy, but I wanna be a firemammal," she said with a shrug and a smile.

Wolford crossed his paws and smirked. "I'll call you a hose dragger instead, hose dragger."

"Yeah, and when did anyone ever sing cuss the fire department?" she retorted with a smile, standing up. Catano waved her off, and she and Wolford were on their way again.

.

.

Running along, Nick and Judy didn't get a chance to talk until they'd reached the protest site and found that, thankfully, an uneasy truce was holding. The massive pack had dismounted, their bikes stored and guarded in a small corral to the side, and were now merging with the protest. On all sides, the officers were busy lining up along the barricades set up to protect important buildings: the city hall, the museum, the train station and Precinct One. Catching his breath, Nick almost glibly pointed out that the barricades around the pools and ponds were deserted, the ZPD obviously not minding if any of the protestors got bumped in and wet. He didn't though. Those little islands of defence were isolated and, call him a little claustrophobic, he did not want to be stuck in there surrounded by a protest about the mistreatment of a kit that was filled with Lang wolves.

The canines themselves were putting on their own display. Coming to the front of the crowded but not yet fully packed protest, many of them lined up with each other, shoulder to shoulder, and with one deft motion they put a foot paw forward and scraped a line into the earth. Taking a united step back, they left a solid line in front of them and nodded hard, staring forward.

Nick, behind his own line of metal barriers, nodded back, glancing into the eyes of a red furred she-wolf clad in tan alligator skin leathers. He understood.

They did too, seeing the tacit understanding in the rest of the police line and responding in the obvious fashion. They tilted their heads up in a long proud howl, one that dragged in wolves across the protests and from both sides. It was like a thundering downpour after weeks of stifling humid heat and, as its mournful cry faded, mammals everywhere seemed to relax a bit, the fear and dread in the air cleared away and replaced with a tense but peaceful arrangement. Nick visibly deflated, Judy turning to him as he did so.

"So, not as bad as you feared."

"You can say that again," he said, a faint smile growing on his muzzle. He was still a little tense, most certainly, but it seemed that today it would be okay.

"So, not as bad as you feared."

The smile grew. "Sly Bunny."

"You know I am," she said, with her usual (even if coffee powered) optimistic bunny perk. Many of the officers around were pulling back a bit, making sure that no line crossing would be taking place. Indeed, one of the wolves had his paws up and was coming forward, saying that there were a few frayed nerves going on in the crowd, and that they'd be fine with some cops in there just keeping tabs. He did insist that the cops cross the lines at certain points, but that was a fair compromise. Judy, happy to go on, quickly scooted forward, a slightly concerned Nick tagging along.

"Relax, Nick."

"Hey just because they're acting genial doesn't mean we go up to them and sing 'Kumbaya'!"

"Good thing we're going behind them," she countered, an annoyed look on his muzzle as they crossed through a gap in their line. On the other side, the crowd was still the same as before, though they still met the occasional group of pack mates. On about the third occasion where Nick steered her away a little, the bunny's nose was twitching enough for her to finally speak out.. "Okay Slick, who are they?"

"Huh."

"Nick, you know that I know that you know about them, and still feel that they're bad news despite the stuff back there. Any reason why?"

Taking a breath in he shrugged. "Well, seems like we'll be here for a while, so I might as well tell you," he began. "Remember what the academy taught us about Wolf Packs? The types?"

"Familial and Found," she recounted, remembering that it wasn't just wolves, but many social canines, that operated such a pack structure. The difference was simple. Familial packs were hereditary based, a literal family. They could range in size, but, even if weak between the edges, they were still bound with blood. Found packs meanwhile were ones that the mammal chose to join or was inducted into. The ZPD pack, for instance, encompassed all wolves, coyotes and many other canines working in the ZPD. Heck, Nick had gotten an offer to join, though he'd declined. Given their more isolated nature, foxes were on the edge: some would join, some wouldn't. Other found packs could involve sports teams, jobs, or just local areas or customs. There were some caveats, given that many wolves would already be part of a familial pack, thus it was acceptable to be part of one of each type, but never more. In terms of pack status, they'd also have to choose to commit to one, which they would rise up the ranks of while staying as a low ranker in the lesser one. If the packs were to ever come into conflict (very rare, but it did happen), then they'd side with whichever one they'd committed to, leaving the other.

Nick nodded. "Well, this one's a bit of both."

"Huh?"

"Orphans, runaways, estranged children, joining together to make their own family," he narrated. "The Lang family. They're one of the oldest, if not the oldest, found pack in the city. And given the background, there is one thing they absolutely abhor. Those who harm children."

"That doesn't seem so bad…"

"-I know, it doesn't sound bad. A lot of the time they just turn up to a hospital or courthouse or whatever when an abused kit is involved. They then line up like back there or escort their vehicle in formation, making them feel protected… -yup, you know the lot I'm talking about, it's these guys." He paused, pushing his paws open in front of him as he began verbally pitching. "'Hey there, those scary mammals who hurt you might be out there, but you have a ton of badass biker wolves on your side'. It's why they're here today. If it was just that, I'd be fine, but it isn't Judy…" He took a long look around, making sure no other officer was overlooking, before staring down. "They're more than a biker gang, arguably they're a full on crime family with the head being a crime lord. Mostly protection stuff with some loansharking, but…"

"But…?" Judy asked.

Nick gave another long look around, before looking down. "They often hunt down and kill child abusers. Can't be proven, but the mammals of the underworld know it. I remember, once, years back when I was tagging along to a meeting with Mr Big. There was an up and coming associate of his, George Macquarie, AKA 'The Penguin Broiler', an elephant seal who was getting an iron grip on Tundratown's pinniped communities – so seals, sea lions and walruses. He hated walruses, Judy, and he was boasting about how he was forcing them to sell their tusks to his own ivory shops at pennies to the dollar."

He paused to let her take it in, before carrying on. "Now, Mr Big did not like it, but he was putting up with it as those were the one holdouts in the district against his rule. He was putting up with it until Georgy boy mentioned ordering his loyalists to get their children to bully the calves of those who refused. Mr Big… He was shocked, he ordered George to tell him that that was a single incident. The idiot then boasted about it being his main method for enforcement, and how he even had teachers under his control, to get the bullies off, make the bullied take the blame, and give them terrible grades and detention after detention too. And how, if the parents held out even after all that, he'd then get adult goons to start robbing and beating the calves until their parents caved in. He actually said out loud, 'I go to bed at night dreaming of how many mustachy-mutt kids are sleeping in hospital on my orders. It is the most wonderful feeling.'"

The fox kissed his paw and let it out into the air, leaving it hanging, Judy's face contorting with a mixture of anger and disgust. "What… next?"

"Mr Big told him that, being the exceptionally generous and too merciful shrew that he was, that he was to transfer all his millions of assets and organisation to him, only keeping a hundred thousand bucks and a one way ticket back home to the bottom of the world to his name. He had twenty four hours to leave the city. George laughed. He had some of his mammals in there, and elephant seals are massive Fluff. With the weapons in their flippers, they could have fought their way out against Big's bears. Even Kozlov was scared, Kozlov. The giant polar bear who, according to who you ask: was in the Soviet version of Seal Team Six, was the guy in charge of the mammals who acted like the KGB to the KGB, was the first mammal to spend ninety seconds shovelling on the roof of reactor four, or was so feared in Afghanistan that mammals there still flee in terror on the site of polar bears…"

Judy's nose twitched. From their brief conversation, the second seemed chillingly likely.

"Anyhow, the Broiler asked Big how the hell he expected him to agree to that, and why he shouldn't kill the shrew and become Tsar of Tundratown then and there. I… I was terrified, Judy. I thought it might be the end for me. But then Big looked at him and said something I'll never forget. 'In twenty-four hours, I'll send a recording of this discussion to Lady Lang. Kill me now, it goes out now'. And then it was George's turn to be terrified. He panicked, agreed to the terms, and hammered out the details then and there. Ten hours later, I stood witness for Big as Macquarie cast his icebreaking yacht off and sailed away to somewhere nice and south of New Zealand."

There was a long pause. "I… Surely they can't have been that bad?" Judy asked.

He looked at her gravely. "George got to where he was because he was brutal and, despite everything, clever. One of his top lieutenants tried to carry on, he may have lost the money but he still had the command structure. He refused to stop the practices, and three days later he was found dead. A new one tried the same thing. Four days. A new one. Two. A new one came up and said that he'd stop any attacks on walruses. He was still headstrong, but a few days later he came in, bruised and shaken. Mr Big supplied some of George's money, and he gave it to all the calves that had been targeted, before falling in line."

Judy gave another glance up at a pair of wolves walking past, her nose twitching. "But couldn't he have taken all his assets when he ran?"

…

"Those killed were all incredibly lucky. None of them got hit by the thing they really feared, a thing that probably wouldn't think twice about hunting down George to the bottom of the world. "

Judy remained quiet, nudging up to him and holding his paw.

Nick spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Ever heard of the North Pier Musk Mill?"

She nodded, a bit confused. "That was skunks being held in cages and milked for their musk," she said, shivering and grimacing at the memory, sanitised for true crime television as it may have been.

"Bucks, does and kits," he said. "Imprisoned until some mammals or mammal attacked and freed them, half burning down the place in the process. None of the victims were killed, but many of the perps were. Many escaped too, only for their bodies… or what was left of them, to be found later, burnt to a crisp."

Judy looked queasy.

"They weren't the only ones. There's been no more for the last three or four years, but back in the day, before and after North Pier, you'd hear about it often if you were in the right company. As far as the ZPD officially knew, and I even checked the records, it was a sick new trend amongst mobsters. Criminals who did terrible things to women and children, found burnt to death… Officially all done by different mammals and unconnected to each other."

He paused for a second or two. "The few witnesses, mostly criminals who'd never say anything to the cops, all said the same three things." Judy's nose was twitching and, as he looked away, she felt him tighten his paw, more and more. "One, the mammal who did it sprayed them with a slow burning chemical, like methylated spirits or something, which took long and terrible hours to do the job. It was long and terrible because, two, they'd be tranquilised before. There was one mammal who was struck with a dart but not attacked, just a low level thug, wrong place wrong time. He said he fell down and was trapped in his body. Mammals could kick or punch him, a porcupine fell on him and he felt nothing. But he was aware of everything going on, and so would those who…"

"Sweet cheese… Oh Sweet cheese…"

"The third is that the attacker was always a female wolf, dressed in red. And so, though an urban myth at most to the public, in the criminal circles it became the monster under the bed. Don't hurt or injure women or children, or 'The Dark Flame Wolf' will get you."

Judy blinked, clicking her fingers. "Didn't Honey mention that?"

Nick nodded. "Yeah, it was on her board. She probably has, or had, her own theory about who, or what, she was."

Judy nodded, trailing off into a long pause. "The Lang family. You said that their leader was 'Lady' Lang?"

He nodded. "Original name: Annemarie Luna. I saw her picture once. A white wolf with crescent moon earrings, I'd say she'd be in her sixties right now. From what I heard, 'The Dark Flame Wolf' was a normal coloured wolf, but hey. Fur dye, am I right? But what you're thinking is what most others in the underworld believed, and still believe. I wasn't one of them, but I still think that, whoever it is, is one or more of their pack members."

"So, that's why you're scared of them," she said, gesturing to a pair of Lang wolves walking past.

He nodded. "Well, more that they'd just cause chaos. But still, there are some out there who have no qualms doing things like that…" He looked out, absently gazing. "You don't know what it's like to fear them…"

Judy nodded, thinking a second only to blink with a realisation. They only harmed those who... and Nick feared… "-Wait, hang on. You said they only…"

"-Crap, wait. Let me explain," he urged, paws out. "Remember the musk mill?"

She nodded her head.

"While known before, that was the first time everyone realised just how determined 'The Dark Flame Wolf' could be. The mill wasn't an individual with bodyguards, this was an operation a few times bigger than Lionheart at Cliffside. Wiped out in one evening, and it was still in everyone's… well, in certain company everyone's memory a few years later, when I fell out of favour with Mr Big."

"Out of…" she began mumbling, before her eyes widened. "The Skunk Butt rug."

Nick nodded, with a sigh. "I mean, that rug was nice. It was gorgeous, velvety soft and it smelt beautiful. I didn't know it was a skunk butt rug, Mr Big didn't until one of his bears told him, and let's be honest, if you had an amazing sheep wool rug that you saw and loved, only to find that it was made of horsehair, would you be that angry? I mean, yes, it came from a skunk, but unless you were a raging speciesist that didn't spoil what it was. No. The real reason that Mr Big was mad at me was because, back at the musk mill, they would shave the butts of their skunks to get clean tube access. The rumour was that they repurposed that fur, for instance into…"

"-Rugs."

Nick nodded. "I mean, it's absurd. The amount you'd make from them is tiny, especially as the fur would definitely be contaminated with spray given what they were doing. And if you were trying to keep it a secret, why the hell would you sell traceable DNA evidence on the open market? But what's logical isn't always the public sentiment, or criminal underworld sentiment for that matter. A skunk butt rug, especially such a fine one, would be viewed as coming from that mill, even years after its closure. I didn't realise that it was a skunk butt rug, and when some of the bears began telling me, I wasn't just angry that they were insulting what I'd worked hard to find. I was angry that they'd insinuate that I was supporting that evil enterprise. Never mind that I thought that rugs coming from there was stupid, I knew what they meant by it. It just made me angrier, more stubborn, and more resistant to considering that I'd made a mistake…"

"And when Big learned the truth," Judy began. "He thought it came from there."

"I tried to say that I thought it was a wool rug, and that even if it was from a skunk it wouldn't be from there… He said that at best I was careless, at worst I was a swindling disgrace of a mammal. Either way, I was a persona non-grata anymore, due to the risk I'd tempted."

"But it was only a rug, well after the event, and you were still scared that 'The Dark Flame Wolf' would…"

He nodded. "It didn't help that, after the musk mill incident, she, whoever she was, began using skunk spray bombs in her missions. What happened there was personal, everyone knew it was a sore subject, and that you weren't going to take any risks. However small it might have been, Mr Big felt it way too large, given what she could do. I was thrown out, and for a small while, even I feared that I might…"

He was broken off as Judy's arms wrapped around him. "Well, whoever she is, she was probably smart enough to know that you did nothing wrong there."

"Yeah," he said, relaxing. "And it's been a decade or so, so I'm pretty sure I'm in the clear."

"Good," Judy said, paws on her hips. "After all, if she came after you I'd probably get badly injured defeating her."

Nick gave her a smile, raising a warning finger. "Don't get cocky, Kit."

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The Lang family belongs to Berserker88 and MindJack, from their awesome fic Born to be Wilde. As for 'The Dark flame wolf'... Check out Darkflamewolf's fanfic 'In Darkness I hide' to get the action packed lowdown.