Chapter 37

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Mr Fox paused, smiling as he saw Councillor Canidae walk into the room, a gift card in her paw. He smiled a little more as she picked up a slice of coffee cake and walked on over to a seat. Looking at Kylie and Finnick, the pair of them with highly satisfied smiles on their muzzles, he gave a double whistle and tongue click trademark before walking off. He was passing behind her when he made a wry observation. "Mmmmm. Now that there looks like a terrific treat."

She paused, blinking, looking behind her and down to make eye contact with the vulpine, Mr Fox giving a sly wink back. "Mind if I have a seat."

She nodded, watching as he sat down before swallowing and speaking. "Honestly I've met some pretty cheap lobbyists in the past, but this takes the biscuit."

"-Cake."

"-Huh."

"It takes the cake. After all, that's the variety of confection you're eating, or have the food engineers somewhere done something incredibly confusing while I've been gone."

There was a pause as she looked at him.

"Mr Fox. You can call me Foxy," he said, paw out and shaking hers. "Mammal of the media. Influencer of the influenced. Ex-ranger, loving father of one soon to be two and proud uncle of a remarkable honours student."

Her eyes narrowed. "I like my eating and I like my talking, but not at the same time, and I know which one I'm preferring here. I'd prefer it if you got on with this."

"Heh, just striking up conversation," he defended. "Random musings that supply added context that I'll draw back on later. Just plain up explaining your problem out of the blue is unsatisfying. You understand where I'm coming from, don't you?"

She remained silent, turning down and taking another big mouthful of her cake.

"Ahhhh, of course you do! Making speeches, building yourself up, you are a mighty fine politician with a great, almost perfect, track record."

She remained unmoved.

"I mean, my nephew, if he were to take on politics in school, could have done a fantastic essay on your career highlighting all of the good you've done, while giving the most personal account imaginable of your one misstep."

She paused, her eyes fixed up at him as she swallowed. "Your nephew is the anonymous vulpine?" she asked, though she sounded certain of the answer.

Mr Fox nodded, his eyes narrowing. "Yes," he spoke. "And I'm not too happy about what has been done to him. Incidentally, a lot of mammals outside are not so happy too, but while they're focussing on a certain hippo right now, they might soon look to the mammal who left in the loophole that he used."

She sighed. "I agree," she said, pointing at him with a fork as she did so. "That law was never meant to be used like that."

"And so far our horrible little hippo gets to shut down any criticism of it by saying that we wouldn't care if the kit was a lamb, because it was meant to be used against sheep and…"

"-Well it was."

…

"Excuse me a sec," Mr Fox said, finger up in the air. "Can we rewind, I think we skipped a bunch or…"

"No," she said, shrugging. "I mean, the legislation wasn't anti-sheep and technically the intent wasn't, but when it was conceived everyone had it in their minds that the mammals being arrested with it would be sheep. Of course it was. Most of Bellwethers mammals were sheep, there was evidence that there were other cells, and most of those suspects were sheep. Once she was captured and we were chasing after any false leads and worrying about the chance of another attack, or a revenge attack, it would have been sheep doing it because those were the ones in her main group. Of course, the law was rushed through and naturally it had to be a blanket application to all species. In the future, you may well get deer or bison or coyotes or who knows what messing with that stuff again and it'll be used for them too… But the whole point of this law at the time was to help us stop any more terrorist sheep who'd be carrying on what the captured terrorist sheep had been doing."

"Well, that's blunt."

She huffed. "Well, that lot is always talking about 'saying it as it is', so there, you, go! It's just like if there were a bunch of… -say dingoes, as a species picked at random. A bunch of dingoes going around, say... -stealing babies. A law meant to crack down on kitnapping in response would naturally have everyone imaging it being used to capture evil dingoes. As in dingoes who are evil and kitnapping babies, not the common law abiding dingo you see out on the streets on Outback Island, happily living their lives and causing nobody harm, and paying their taxes...Is there anything wrong about that?"

Mr Fox twiddled his fingers. "Well, if perchance a certain hippopotami were too…"

"Well of course he would," she said, frowning. "It's a dead cat tactic. You've got a legitimate point they can't defend against, so they throw a dead cat on the table and say 'Phwoah, it's a dead cat.' And everyone else is like…"

"-OH MY GOD THERE'S BEEN A MURDER! CALL THE POLICE!"

"Exactly," she said, nodding. She looked away and huffed. "It's all that side knows how to do. Throw insults, make mountains out of molehills, gaslight and project and demonise anyone against them." She frowned, before pointing to herself. "Do you know many fat jokes have been hurled against me in my career? Do you know how many mammals out there personally refer to me as 'a joke'? It doesn't matter that my popularity in my district puts almost all other councillors in their own to shame! My career has hit a ceiling as too many mammals out there think of me as a 'big, fat, idiot wolf', as if I was created by some artist as a one-dimensional joke. And let me tell you, that wouldn't work if it weren't for the wolf bit."

"Quite, quite," Mr Fox agreed. "Anyways, funnily enough, my nephew has a similar tale about public demonisation and career limitation. Let's talk about that, shall we?"

"I suppose that is why you're here," she said, pointedly. "Again, it's that side again, doing what it does best. A law made to try and help heal an injustice that they benefited from, so they claim it's oppression. They fail to repeal it, so they mis-use it as best they can to ruin its reputation. Better yet, use it to hurt those it was meant to help."

"Listen," Mr Fox began, "I think there's only one individual here being oppressed, and it is by your law…"

She frowned. "And maybe you should listen too. There are some things that are so obvious they don't even need to be said: the earth is round, vaccines work, gravity makes things drop, this cake is very nice, civet coffee is stupid, we're here on my time not yours so I get to talk about what I want, and preds were oppressed and victimised by prey during the nighthowler crisis. Some, foxes like you, were oppressed before that and things just doubled up. And these things don't go away and things need to be done to heal them, because otherwise you're just accepting that the injustice is okay. And yes, repaying that injustice means that some mammal needs to pay, and those mammals should either be those with the broadest shoulders; those who benefited from it, ideally directly but indirectly will do; or those at fault for the oppression. Heck, when all three line up, defending them from their duty to pay their debt is indefensible, and just plain speciesist to those hurt. Heck, in fact my law, if anything, was the best thing that ever happened to sheep."

Mr Fox tilted his head. "And how is that?"

"Because it washed the general sheep population's hooves," she said, paws up in the air. "I mean we all know that Bellwether's cabal isn't representative of sheep in general, but it's clear that there's plenty of sympathisers out there. Which species were the backbones of the segregationist and 'Preyocracy' movement in the nineteen-hundreds? Sheep and the equids. When anonymous questionnaires are done, which species has the highest levels believing that preds are dangerous, foxes are untrustworthy, that you must stick by your own species? Sheep. Not the majority, but a sizeable minority, and that's a scientific fact that can't be disputed. Which species got Bellwether into office and panicked at the savage cases and was at the fore of 'silent majority' support for pred repressive policies: from curfews to public muzzle orders to building a 'dingo fence' on Outback Island and fully segregating it? And in terms of public violence and attacks, which species was most linked to hate crime attacks and pred business vandalisms? Sheep."

There was a pause for a second, before she carried on. "Even if they didn't know the truth, they hurt predators. Mammals lost their homes, their jobs, their businesses, they became poorer and had all manner of mental issues because they were preds and prey turned against them. Tricked by Bellwether yes, but they still chose to do it. They still bullied the cubs and kits in the schools and they still sprayed anti-pred slogans on the shops and they still created victims and ruined lives. And that's all supposed to go away because it was just 'a few bad sheep?' That doesn't fix anything, does it? Where's the fairness? It's a cop out. There's no attempt to address the bad apples spoiling the bunch, nothing like the denazification Germany went through and needed after thirteen years under Adolf Hirschler. Are you saying that that was oppression against cervids? That we shouldn't have done that? That we should just let these mammals live in their own realities, convincing themselves that they're the good guys, believing their fight is for a noble cause? One they romanticise and take pride in as they write their own histories about how noble their wars for oppression were, decades or even centuries after they lost? To the point where they can unironically stand against everything we stand for, doing things that will rightfully terrify most people and be a stain on our history forever, yet completely believe that they're the patriots!?"

"Well no…"

"Exactly. Which was why there were calls for reparations. Funding to help preds get their businesses going again, compensation for houses that were lost, so on and so on. But who should pay?"

"I'm going to presume the answer is wooly, right?"

"Well, most of it would come from general tax, but is it fair that victimised preds have their tax money used to pay them compensation for what society did for them?" she asked. "In any case, given how closed in they became, sheep communities came out at a slight advantage after the crisis. More sheep were hired in lieu of preds, also inspired by the new mayors 'good leadership', while money that would go to pred business went to theirs. So we have a group of mammals who were the most at fault, most at benefit and are generally well off. While straight up demanding money from a single species is illegal, raising taxes on wool sales to help chip in sounds fair, doesn't it? Lots of mammals thought that, though there were enough sheep politicians and sympathisers against this to use their majority to deny fairness. Both here, and on some really big things like therapy and compensation for the actual victims. Meanwhile I got so many letters from preds who wanted more. Who were hurt so bad and wanted some justice in this world against those who made them suffer, and felt like a wool tax was nothing. Who were calling for heavy reparations, payments to predators, and full on protests until that was done."

"Which didn't come, did it?" Mr Fox said.

She nodded. "Because I put forward this law, announcing that hell would rain down on those who dared mess with refined howlers, coded Bellwether's sheep, and used it as a compromise. We got mammals to get through the therapy and medical payments to the greatest victims while they didn't get the wool tax. And it worked. It redirected mammals anger enough so that general sheep, for better or I fear worse, could wash their hooves and carry on, no need to pay reparations, compensation or anything. As I said, it was the best thing that could happen to sheep."

"But," Mr Fox said, "not to my nephew."

"Well, obviously I can see that now."

"And what will they see when your pred-revenge policy is used by a pro-preyist prey to prey on poor predators putting them in prison for perpetuity?"

"They would not be happy," she grumbled. "I admit, were this a case like that nasty specieist gang it was used on a few months ago, and they were all predators, most predators would be for it. But used this way, against a kit… It's beginning to backfire."

"Yes, but you can change that can't you," Mr Fox began. "Imagine the headline: Nighthowler Act is acted upon' A simple quick change which means it doesn't affect any youth and if the Police Chief says no, it can't be used. You want to stand up for preds, well stand up for them by going up to his pred hating plans and…" He paused, grabbing the tablecloth and yanking it down, tearing it from beneath her plate. "-pull the rug from underneath them. Laugh along with them as he grumbles and my innocent nephew is put back in our care. Happily ever after, the end."

She nodded. "I have been thinking about that. It does depend on public mood but, seeing the protests out there and the mood in here…" She drummed her fingers on the table. "I think I've been convinced, -just. I plan to table an amendment in the free session early tomorrow morning. It'll be retroactive. Whether it passes or not isn't up to me, and of course you've got plenty of sympathisers or apologists on their side who'll vote it down. But, if nothing goes wrong, your nephew will be coming home."

Mr Fox smiled. "Why thank you, were you in my part of the city you'd have my vote."

"Thank you too," she agreed, before looking down at her half eaten cake and glancing up at the time. "-Now, if you don't mind."

"No I do not," he said, standing up and bidding her adieu. He left her at her table, walking past Finnick and Kylie and high-pawing each of them, before they walked out to join the main protest, a skip in their step.

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Kii Catano glanced left and right, before knocking hard on a classroom door. No answer came and, giving a final peek in, the cheetah stepped into the empty room, a sniffing ewe under her arm. She turned, made sure that they were closed in and alone, before diving down, hugging her tight and taking her weight as she collapsed into her.

"You are a good mammal," she spoke, her mouth straining hard with a mix of sympathy and anger as she got the words out. "You have done nothing wrong. You don't owe anybody anything because you're a sheep. You. Are. Not. Bad."

Maisy sniffed a few times, holding her back, tightly. The cheetah couldn't help but notice her attempt to form some words, only for her tongue to trip up before it could even begin to get them out.

Closing her eyes, breathing in and out, the cheetah calmed her own emotions, while her paw began to raise up to instinctively cradle the back of the ewe's head.

She paused as her pads touched the edges of the soft white wool growing up the back.

"Mind if I touch you here?" she asked.

"I… You…" she began, closing her eyes and mumbling a bit. She took in a few deep breaths, before carrying on. "Anyone can touch… It's only fair... Anyone can…"

"No," Catano spoke, a flicker of fire growing in her eyes. "I want to hug you here, and if you really want that, just say. If you don't want me touching your wool, I won't. I want to comfort you, not treat you like a bird in a petting zoo."

"I… Okay… I want…" she sniffed, nodding. The cheetah cradled the back of her head and brought her in tight. She had to strain her head a little bit to one side, avoiding the sharp tip of one of her horns, but she could put up with that.

She could. For Maisy.

The ewe sniffed and sniffed, slowly calming down before speaking out. "You can though… Anytime you want and…"

"Why?" Catano spoke, letting go and pushing her to arms length. She looked in her eyes, biting her lip, just unable to get it. "Why are you doing this to yourself? You deserve dignity. You don't have to go out letting others touch your wool, violating yourself, just to pay off some debt that doesn't exist!"

"But…" she began, mumbling. She looked away, shaking a little. "But it does exist, it's obvious, and…"

"What exists?" Catano asked, her soft voice tinged by a flash of exasperation

"Sheep Privilege," Masiy said. "I'm a privileged sheep. I…"

"Why on earth do you think that?"

"I… -It's obvious," she cried, shaking a little as her red eyes began misting up again. "I… -You're just like my parents, they keep on saying that it doesn't exist, they're just fragile like that. Fragile and speciesist, with their horrible conspiracies like PSC, and they're happy to just let preds suffer, and…"

"-Do I look like I'm suffering?"

Maisy blinked. "But you do, you…"

Catano grit her teeth. "Do I?"

"I mean no, but…"

"Because I'm not," she said, giving a glance around. "I suffered back when your aunt did what she did, but that was not done by 'the sheep'. It was not done by you. I don't care."

"I…" she mumbled. "But you suffered in school, didn't you? And speciesist mammals were out there judging you, and it was harder for you, and we had it easier and that is wrong and I have to…"

"You don't have to do anything," the cheetah urged, grabbing her hand hooves hard and looking into her eyes. Tears were beginning to form on her own, she couldn't stand this. It reminded her of some of the times she'd had to deal with suicidal mammals, seeing the things that they'd done to their bodies. It was like they were abusing themselves, and here she was doing the mental equivalent. "Who ever said that you had to?"

"I… -All the academics on speciesism, all the voices from maligned species that I need to listen to, it's the truth. I… I'm a privileged sheep, and I…"

"So, like your fox friends back there?" Catano asked. "The ones who thought that you framed Kris? Who was trying to push you into confessing?"

"I… It's okay, I understand them," she began. "They are victims, and they're right to be angry, and they know about my aunt and they're right to hate me and I was wrong to try and shut them down and…"

"Do you really understand them?" Catano asked, closing her eyes and thinking back.

"Of-of course," she mumbled. "They're my friends, not that I've been a good…"

"Are they though?" she said. "Do you know that they were watching horribly ovinophobic videos before talking to you?"

She paused, blinking. "I… -It was probably calling us out, -rightfully…"

"What, by saying that sheep are born evil?" she pressed. "They want to enslave all other mammals, and aren't really mammals themselves? That they're the source of all evil in the world? They want to use mind control, and all that?"

Maisy blinked. "I…" She trembled a little. "They're watching one of those…?"

Catano nodded. "They were," she said, thinking back distastefully. "And talking about it, laughing, saying that she had good points and…"

"-She?" Maisy asked, her voice cracking up a little. She turned away, beginning to shake. "N-n-no… Please not that one…"

Catano pushed back in and hugged her tight. "I'm sorry," she said, beginning to sniff herself. "I'm sorry…"

"But-but-but…" Maisy began to say. "They're my friends, and… I… -Maybe they just heard of it and wanted to see what one was like. -Or just found her so stupid she was funny, or… -They have to cope with sheep saying stuff like that about them all the time, I'm just being fragile and…"

"Just because some ram or ewe said horrible things about preds once doesn't make all this okay," Catano said, moving down to look her in the face again. "Two wrongs don't make a right!"

"But it's different… It's worse from us, we sheep have power, so what we say…"

"They. What they say."

"-It's wrong! It's speciesist. And as they're oppressed, what they say isn't speciesist to us, and…"

"It's not?" Catano asked, blinking. "Okay Maisy, if it's not then what's ovinophobia? What's all this crap given to sheep, making you think that you're less than other mammals. That you have to suffer for them. Do you know what I've seen? I've seen mammals scared up to here about being seen as hating preds, or doing things wrong, or daring to slip into those old anti-fox stereotypes or be seen even inferring them. And yeah, they should be, they're evil, mammals suffer because of them. But then those same mammals are treating your kind like you're monsters. That you're cursed. That all of you personally did something wrong to them, or are all nasty speciesists, or are all in on these terrible plots. You're treated like filth, and worse, nobody minds! Heck, they've got you hating yourselves! Thinking that you're some kind of monster with original sin who needs to go around whipping themselves. Where will that end, Maisy? If they keep on saying, 'oh, we're less than you, you need to pay us to make it right', then when will they say, okay we're even now? Do you even know? Do you know what I think? They don't have an end point. They just plan to keep it going on and on and on."

"I…" she began, trembling. "But I have to try!"

Catano shook her head. "I know it feels like that. I became a cop to make the world right and help those in need, and I've seen nasty mammals who guilt trip good mammals like you and use it to abuse them. They're taking advantage of you, like a gaslighting husband. They've convinced you that you're worthless and they're going to pull and pull on that to make you suffer."

"But we still have it better," she said, trembling. "Others are suffering more! And that's wrong, it's so wrong you're a bad mammal for denying it exists. Sheep made mammals suffer in the past, and we're bad mammals if we don't try and fix that and… and… and make it all fair."

"And who decides when that is?" Catano asked. It was the first thing that came to her mind. She liked to deal with right and wrong, on and off, you could define those easily. But this? "And how far down do you go before everyone agrees that's enough, huh?" she said, letting her train of thought carry her. "And if one sheep out of a million does an evil thing, does that mean you all have to suffer too? And what about sheep elsewhere? What about those Christian sheep in the middle east, being attacked by Muslamb camels for their faith. Oh, it doesn't matter that you're suffering genocide, you're still a species with original sin as some of your kind did very well in a city on the other side of the world. And if species have to all suffer for the crimes of one of their kind, how much should deer suffer, huh?"

Maisy blinked. "Deer? Why would… They're not like sheep…"

"Huh?" Catano asked, surprised that she didn't get what seemed obvious to her. "The species of Adolf Hirschler and Joseph Stagen, the greatest mass murderers of all time? What about pandas and Chairman Māo Zexiong? I heard he killed even more. And with the things Japan did in world war two, what about tanukis? From the royal family to the ones sweeping the street. Heck, they consider foxes a holy species over there. Hidekitsune Tojo, their prime minister, the attacker of Pearl Harbour and a killer of millions was… what species was he?"

"A fox, but…"

"-We don't blame foxes for him. Do you think tanukis and foxes should go around apologising for Pearl Harbour, huh?"

"No. That would be dumb, and…"

"Exactly," Catano said, sighing with relief. "All of this, all of this… You don't owe anyone anything because of what your species is, Maisy. You are not a bad mammal because you're a sheep. You're not a bad mammal because of who your family is. You're not a bad mammal because of the Nighthowler crisis, anymore than rabbits are for Ted Bunny, pigs are for Pol Pot-Bellied, horses are for Genghis Khan and Gabrielli the Thunderer, hyenas are for Shenzi Kalani or preds are because we used to eat prey. Because they're not, are they? We don't hold it against them all for way back then, and there is no magic line where doing that becomes okay. It's never okay! We all condemn them and move on with our lives right now and those that don't… Those are the bad mammals here."

"But…" Maisy began. "Even with how foxes get treated, and Kris, and how preds are made to think the very way their species is is wrong and…"

"If you think that mammals who make others think that 'the way their species is' are the worst thing in the world, that they're the most evil ones out there… -Do you?"

She nodded.

"Then those that make you feel like you're a bad mammal, that you deserve a worse life, that you should hurt yourself because you're a sheep and sheep are bad and you should feel guilty for being a sheep… Those are them, right?"

She nodded, slowly.

"And they're evil."

She nodded again, harder, an uncertain untrusted ray of hope beginning to shine through.

"And you should feel no shame in being a sheep just like foxes should feel no shame for being foxes, or I feel no shame for being a cheetah or a pred. No matter what these mean mammals on the internet say, or your so called friends, or anyone. Understand?"

Maisy nodded, and Catano sighed with relief, the tension leaving her body.

The ewe glanced around a bit, before looking down. "I…" she sniffed. "I just want to be a good mammal! And I'm just scared…"

"And I don't blame you," Catano said. "I'm pretty sure it's scary for everyone here. Bar the poor kit himself, you most of all, but…" She paused, tapping her foot, looking away. "I don't know if your family had anything to do with it, but if they did…" She took out a notepad and scrawled down her number. "If they forced you or anything, you can call me and you won't be in trouble. I promise."

Maisy looked at it like it was a death warrant. "But… But my parents, I can't send... " she sniffed. "I love them, and…"

"I know. They're your parents."

"-They didn't do anything. -I didn't do anything," she rushed out, pushing the bit of paper away. She glanced around and stepped back, her head fixing itself on the door. "We didn't…" she began to say.

"I believe you," Kii said. "Ninety nine times out of a hundred, I bet they wouldn't, but there's just a slimest of slim chances that…"

"But we…" she sniffed.

"Please, for me," she said, handing the bit of paper over. "You can call about anything you want. If mammals are bullying you because you're a sheep, or going to leak who your parents are, I can help you."

Maisy looked on, almost shivering, before taking the piece of paper and slowly putting it in her pocket.

"Besides," the cheetah said, remembering why she'd come here in the first place. "You're not our main suspect."

"I'm not?" she asked, almost collapsing with relief.

Catano nodded, before pulling out a picture of Duke Weaselton. "This mammal is. Ever seen him?"

"I… no," she said.

"You sure. I heard he had a fight with your fox friends after you'd left them. Did you see them anywhere?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I went straight out."

"Did you see anyone else?" she asked, out of curiosity.

"No," she said, innocently.

"Yeah," Catano agreed, "walking through those narrow paths cutting through the hills, it's not like you could see very far, was it?"

"Well, I went across a flat lawn and by the pond, but I wasn't really paying any attention," she said. She breathed in and out, pausing as she saw the time. "Oh mutton chops. I'm super late!"

Catano blinked, before bringing out another sheet of paper and writing a note on it. "Here, take this."

"T-thanks," she said.

"You're welcome," the cheetah said, bringing her in for another hug. "Go get washed up first. You gonna be okay?"

"I… I think…"

"Well, don't push yourself, and never let those mammals out there see that they're getting to you."

"I… I'll try."

She chuckled. She'd just borrowed a phrase from one of her colleagues, and she'd returned with his partners one. "Even better, don't listen to them."

Closing her eyes, blinking, she nodded. Catano saw her out to the door, gave a wave, and then pulled out her radio. A lot to think about, a lot to discuss. They arranged a meetup and she set off, mulling over all that she'd seen and heard.

There was a lot to think over.

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Nick smiled, looking down at Judy as she came over, holding Honey's paw. "Something I missed?" he asked.

"Yeah," Judy said, smiling wide. She glanced up at the ratel. "It seems you don't need to worry about her relapsing anymore. She did good. She did good…" The bunny looked up with a proud look on her muzzle and patted Honey's paw, a wide smile growing on her face.

"Yeah…" she chuckled, glancing at Nick. "Kinda bumped into some anti-sheep guys, and we didn't get along… Which I guess is good."

The fox nodded, breathing a sigh of relief and letting a smile grow on his muzzle. "Well, tell the good Dr Twirly Tail about that, I think she'll be proud too."

"...Who…?"

"Dr Amy…"

"Oh, right, I… Heh! That's a good nickname!"

"Well," he said smugly. "Nick-name's are my speciality, isn't that right Carrots?"

"Yup," she said, giving a slight roll of her eyes.

"Ah, you know you love me," he said smugly.

"Do I?" she asked back. "Yes, yes I do."

"You two sound like an item!"

The two blinked, and turned to face her.

"-I mean, you'd be really cute together!"

"Well," Nick said, crossing his arms and smiling. "It just so happens that we are an item, Honeybun…"

"HOT-DAMNNNNNN! -Also, I don't remember givin' you Honeybun privileges either but I don't care, use them all you want!"

Slowly uncovering his ears, Nick nodded. "Yeah, will do. You okay Carrots?"

"Yeah," she groaned, uncovering her own ears before folding them down on the back of her head. "Anyway, I think Honey has something else she wants to say."

"-Oh, of course," Nick said, clicking his fingers and turning to her. "You…"

"-Yup," she said, "I feel like forgiving now, so all is good."

"... Why thank you," he said, smiling. "Though I was also going to ask if you got that text of mine."

She blinked. "Oh, P-S-C?" She turned away, chewing air a little. "I… -It was another one of my old crazy theories. I came up with it after hearing reports from one of Bellwether's fundraisers and…"

"Hold on just a sec," Nick began. "From what I gather Dominic and Wassermaim were talking about it, so if you heard anything, it might be useful."

She paused, before slowly shaking her head. "I… -All I heard was that Dawn was talking to her brother, he handled their campaign finances and investments, after some big speech from Lionheart or something, and they mentioned it there! Nothing much else."

"What was the speech on," Judy asked.

"Well I think it started with Bellwether going on about how the prey mammals in the city, 'the little guys', needed security and 'deserved their slice of the pie too', and how common mammals deserved quality and… -Well, Lionheart then walked back to the stage and talked about how they needed to be equally able to pursue their goals and reach great heights, and do whatever they wanted, and not be held back by others, which he then used to pitch the MII! Which led to Bellwether walking off and shaking her head, and I found out that she went to her brother and he straight up said 'PSC', and she said. 'Yup.' And that's that."

There was a pause, the bunny and fox glancing at each other. "Nothing else?" Nick asked.

"Nope!" she said. "I mean, I came up with the dumb idea that it meant 'Prey Sheepification Conspiracy'. Dawn was talking about how all the prey out there should be dull and boring and sheep like, Lionheart cut in and said no they don't have to be, they can actually have lives… And then they referred to 'PSC', which I ended up saying meant 'Prey Sheepification Conspiracy…'"

"Making other prey more… sheepy…" Nick summarised.

She nodded her head hard. "Yeah!"

…

"-I mean, No! Not anymore of course, I'm…"

"We know," Judy interrupted, paw on her arm. There was a pause, the ratel deflating.

"Yeah."

"I mean, I don't think it really fits," Nick said. "But… -Well, we'll have to talk it through… And, at the very least, we have a new card up our sleeve for our operation tonight…"

"Right," Honey said, "I guess we're all set for that then."

Nick nodded. "The fennecs think so, I've heard no bad news from our other teams. And maybe if something bad goes wrong here and we get pulled back, we have to call it off… But it seems this thing went exactly as we wanted it to, in the end."

Judy couldn't help but agree. Looking around, though they'd had their worries, nothing bad had happened. Their plan seemed to have worked out, mammals had turned out against Wassermaim, and, fingers crossed, the message would get across. Indeed, it seemed that she wasn't the only one with the same assessment.

"-And done!" the Skunk reporter said, turning back to his crew. "Camera and sounds off."

His crew nodded and did just that.

"-And double check it this time!"

There was a collection of groans as just that happened, though they were cut off by a short 'oh, ooops.'

.Steven Stinkman stuck his paws on his hips and gave the offending mammal a stink-eye, before turning back to the mammal he'd been interviewing. "Thanks Mom!"

"My pleasure," Murana spoke, smiling and looking around. "I believe we're about done here."

"As are we," came a new voice, as Mr Fox, Kylie and Finnick walked up. Nick held his paws on his hips and glared at his former partner, who just shrugged it off in response.

"And your problem is?" he asked, gesturing around. Nick grumbled, but kept it cool as Judy walked past him.

"Here to join too?"

"Affirmative," Mr Fox agreed. "Though not after completing our own high-stakes mission."

"P-S-C?" she asked.

"P-S-C," he agreed. "Whatever that thing Mr formerly Bellwether was mentioning is, or may even be putting into action right now."

Nick nodded, his eyes scanning around before he did a double take. "Like talking to a ferret?" he asked.

"Well, potentially yes," Mr Fox began, only to pause, following Nick's gaze. There, beyond the protest line, was the sheep in question, talking to a snow white ermine. "As a certain striped bunny we know would say, the plot thickens!"

Nick blinked, before darting down to Judy and Finnick. "Got anything from them?"

The two squinted, their ears swivelled in for maximum pickup, only for the fennec to grunt. "Just the snow-tube talkin' 'bout being hacked!"

Indeed, she now seemed far more focussed on her phone, tapping it hard before marching off, Dominic Calrama taking off in the other direction. Nick glanced down at Finn. "Sure you don't have anything Radar?"

"Nope."

"I can see that," he said, a smirk growing on his muzzle. "Where's your teddy for a start?"

The fennec glared up. "Incoming wounded. I'm hearing him right now."

Nick just retreated into smugness as Mr Fox waved off whatever Dominic was up to. "Let him have his quote-unquote fun for now. Our little mission today helped us pick up the scent trail of his P-S-C'ing PSC-ness! -Amongst other things."

"One big, other thing, mainly," Kylie added.

"It seems we're on the home straight already," Mr Fox continued, "and as long as nothing goes wrong we'll be getting my nephew back as soon as we can. So he can be at home while we try and capture them that did it and deal with him that hurt him."

"Well, we don't hedge our bets," Judy warned. "Tonight's mission will still be going ahead, as planned."

"And I wouldn't have it any other way," Mr Fox agreed.

"-A very good way to do it," came the voice of Murana Wolford, Steven Stinkman at her side. "Best of luck with your fox nephew. Now, let's find raccoon son," she said with a smile, sniffing the air for a second or two.

"Uhhh, Mrs Wolford?" Nick spoke, slowly walking up to her. He pointed in one direction and the she-wolf turned, having to double take what she saw. There, on top of the rock and in the middle of the band the Lang family had brought in to play, sat Max Thrash.

On their drum kit.

Playing the absolute cussing cuss out of it.

.

Those down below couldn't see quite exactly what was going on up there. Conor, finding that Max was a master of his art, had pulled him on an ear piercing tour of hard rock injustice bashing songs. Jason, his african wild dog drummer, sat on the sidelines, a slight green of envy seemingly joining his many fur hues. Sure, the little raccoon wasn't better than him, but there was only a furs width to it. Nothing compared to the pawful of years. But any competitiveness between him and young Max were now being eclipsed by the rivalry between the raccoon and the guitarist who'd invited him on stage to try out. The silver fox had them belting through a very recent Who number, his claw tips raking down on the six-string of his double necker as his voice cried out.

"Down in Guantanamoooo," he pulled out, before giving it fast and hot and scathing in a cajun spiked accent. "-We still got the ball and chain…" Plucking his strings hard down at the deep and tangy end, he gave a spicy jam in the brief interlude before the next lines, even managing a play with his recently added vibrator arm, getting some cheeky vibrato in there.

Max, not to be outdone, somehow managed to fit in a rapid sequence of three descending drum rolls, finished off by a combined swing on the high hat and bass drum to round it off before normal service was resumed.

Conor's burning amber eyes fixed themselves onto Max's, Max nodded back, the silver fox repeated the previous verse, albeit with a new play on his guitar at his end. Max filled in drum downs and flourishes, all while keeping the tune, before pulling up at the end of the guitar work and beating out a waterfall of drum notes. The silverfox pushed on, his voice crooning as he entered the bridge. "There's a long road to travel… for justice to make it's claim…" Max's drums had been spiced up throughout, but now the fox cut in with some hot high pitched guitar plucks. "Let's bring down the gavel… Let the prisoner say his name."

And then the deep and spicy notes came again as he played his beloved instrument for all it was worth, an act met by Max Thrash and then exceeded as he went into the space set aside for his own drum solo. He pushed on, well past the original end point, and Conor just had to step back for a little bit. To try and cut in would be a crime against music, and they all knew that. Having the time of his life, Max finally returned to the where he was meant to be, giving a nod, and they all cut off into a quieter moment. Conor gave a few soft strokes of his twelve strings, eyes closed and swinging around as he slowly built up. "Mmmmmm -still waitin' for the big cigars!"

He let the six string rip again, pushing into the instrumental ending. They were taking this to the bitter end, the notes were getting louder and closer together, the original score dropped for wild musical instinct guiding the way. Near the beginning, the silverfox managed some cheer-winning Pete Howlsend windmilling and, not to be outdone, Max brought up his sticks and flipped them, or brought them down together in divebomber assaults on his high hats. By the end though, there was no room spare for flourishes, they just poured their souls into their instruments, focusing on them, pushing on.

Somehow, they managed a glance at each other, and then they knew.

They nodded.

Pushing on together, rising up as high as they could before…

In a flash, they both cut in one final glorious crescendo and ended it there, standing together and panting from exhaustion as the cheers of the protest crowd crashed up against them.

Down in the crowd, Murana was clapping on along with everyone else, even pulling her mouth up into a long proud howl, one joined by the many wolves across the plaza. At her side, Steven Stinkman had taken a break now that he didn't need to record anything, and was jumping up and down cheering…

Only to pause, suddenly look embarrassed, and start edging away. "I'm… -Just going to phone up Pete Howlsend's lawyer, see if we can use that," he said, before skirting off. A bunch of other mammals, taking some sniffs in, had edged a little away from the local area, though their excitement and the fact that any spray soaked items of clothing were now gone curtailed their reactions.

Up on the stage, Conor led Max out, showing him the microphone. The torch key raccoon grabbed it and shouted out. "Hi Mom! I made a new friend!"

"Yes, that's lovely!" she shouted back futilely, clapping all the while.

Nick, his mouth piquing, nudged up next to her. "You do realise that those are the Lang Wolves, right? Biker nutjobs come wannabe vigilantes come effective crime family?"

"Well, that looks like a fox…"

"-Who I think lives with them," he spoke, his frown growing. "Just thinking…" he carried on. "Young minds, influences, lots of bigger emotionally unstable mammals, do you really…"

"It'll be fine," she dismissed. "Max needs friends, and I think he's got a jam partner now!"

There was a laugh from a certain fennec fox down below. "You can say that again!"

She smiled and began walking off towards them, giving one last final glance back. "Besides, what's the worst way he could influence him?"

Up on the stage, Max and Conor were taking a breather, Jason and Conor's sandcat friend Saad taking over their positions. "Mam," the silverfox said, looking at the young coon and fussing his headfur. "Playing the Who like that," he said, smiling. "Are you Keith Moon-Moon's reincarnation or something?"

Max paused, blinking. "Who's Keith Moon-Moon?"

"...Oh, You don't know Keith Moon-Moon?" Conor asked, before sitting down, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and bringing him tight for story time. "You're gonna love Keith Moon-Moon."

.

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AN: Sorry for the minor delay in getting this out. Good old fanfic playing up in the oddest of ways.

And so we're at the end of the 'protest arc'. Originally just a few sentences on my plan, it came out to much more than that, didn't it XD.

I admit I was a bit worried that it would be too 'listless', go on for too long, etc. A lot of that came from the fact that, in hindsight, Nick and Judy are just standing there meeting 'new wacky zanny characters (™) each chapter (something that killed my interest in a different fic, which made me all the more worried). And, while I had planned to show a bunch of Born to be Wilde characters from the start (Carla, Jimmy, the Lang's), later ideas of mine also came up with a need/want to put in the related In Darkness I Hide Characters (Murana, Steve, Max), while me getting into Fire Triangle and realising I could showcase a few of those characters too (Vern and Conor) just added on. And yeah, if you haven't checked out those fics… Check out those fics!

Now, there's an old saying 'if what you put in isn't needed for the story, cut it out.' And, moving aside the internal want of mine to see Conor and Max, the young OC and young Sona of two of the biggest guys in the fandom, jamming together, these inclusions do serve a purpose. A purpose that one day will be magnificently clear, and hopefully glorious.

Of course, all would be moot if people got too bored before hand to even get there. Whether you liked the Nick-Judy stuff or not though, a lot of the bloat also came from other areas too. From a sidequest I gave Mr Fox, Kylie and Finnick, to Honey's test. For those who didn't like all the cameos, fingers crossed that they kept people entertained.

Whatever the case, if you have an opinion or take on this, please let me know. I want to improve as a writer and work out what my readers, even the silent ones, favour. The more I know, the more I can improve!

The next two chapters will involve a wrap up for all the stuff going on at the school, as well as a check up on Kris. And then, with chapter 40, we'll get to what you've all been waiting for.

Kurt vs Ton!

Battle of the Fat Bastards!