I can't say I've always wanted to become a mother. Yes, that thought was looming there in my brain, so far away, yet still there. Karma only knows why I decided to do what I did with Luke. In the middle of a disease-ridden prison, no less. Mom called him a dumb fox- and not in the way that she usually does with Dad. I think she was seriously wondering if Luke had any brain cells left, and implying that she sure didn't think so….

But back to the topic at hand- I'm sitting in the infirmary ward- it's room C3 on floor 39. At least the view is decent…

...Well, except for the fact that the windows are hazy like a Seaotter sky. Although, in a way, I suppose that's a good thing, because if I could actually see out of them, I might very well be tempted to find something around here that's heavy enough and sturdy enough to shatter the glass and jump. At least I'd be out of this hellhole. Let's see, are there books?

Window (barred), door (locked), walls (padded), aha! A bookshelf! Well, at least I'm not chained to the bed, that's about the only consolation I've gotten. I fainted- can't say I've ever done that before, but then again, I couldn't say I'd ever been a mother before, either. And as soon as I become one, I just had to go and faint.

Smart move, Miss Stehlen.

Or should I be saying Miss Wilde?

No clue.

All I know right now is that the future's looking bleak, and I am pretty Karma-darned sick of staring at the same empty, white room. Well, almost empty, there's a bookshelf, and yes, it does have books. Let's see, what looks good? Ah, Minkbeth. A little odd, but it'll do me. Only thing is, when I open it up, the first thing I read is this-

"There would have been a time for such a word.

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day

To the last syllable of recorded time,

And all our yesterdays have lighted fools

The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!

Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player

That struts and frets his hour upon the stage

And then is heard no more: it is a tale

Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,

Signifying nothing."

Nope, NOT what I was looking for. How about this one- it looks like an adaptation of Furcy Jackson. Odd books, those. He had this one called Fearless Acorns, don't ask. Anyways, his newest one is here- Magnut Chase And The Sword of Sunburn. Hmm, that sounds better. But again, nope!

"A cosmic yarn doth be spun long,

Enough for heroes sing their song.

But hereby be warned,

And take this heed- Death

Doth come up'n fiery steed.

Celestials' chains doth be wrought

So as to let nothing

Break them nought,

As time cannot rewind,

Of most mammals,

That is the thought.

Remember this, forget it not, you I dare,

When one on the lam doth make to air.

Of the mammals, air, land, and sea,

Those who can slip the chains

Are only three.

A yarn's spinning wheel doth change direction,

So it can break, with enough conviction.

When, in the cosmic sense,

A bribe one takes to make amends,

This is the key,

To release the first of three."

Yeah, no...but wait a sec...Oh, for Karma's sake, why does everything have to prophesize something?

"Isn't that the way we work, darling?"

"And now I'm hearing things…"

"Yes, things that are actually there. Quit cursing me, Electra, what you say is most serious."

"Am I drugged? Because this sure as hell doesn't seem like any drug I've ever heard of."

"No drugs here, Electra, just a warning. That sly fox stereotype isn't for nothing."


"Oh, Sweet Celestials above, what just happened?"

The last thing I remember is being knocked out by one of the guards.

"Well, lookee here, Jack, he's awake."

No words for you there, bub.

"What, cat got your tongue, fox? You worthless devil. I would just shoot you here and now, but wiser heads prevailed."

"Count yourself lucky, Johnathan."

Count myself lucky? I've been hanging from these chains for weeks, I get less than a cup of water a day, and a few crackers a to that regular thrashings by the guards, and if that's lucky, I don't want to hear what they're holding in reserve.

"Give up, Wilde. Then maybe we'll let you live. Or- you can remain silent, and the cycle will continue. That, or tell us why you killed her parents."

"Whose parents? And as far as I can tell, that wasn't this reality, that was the real reality."

" The 'real' reality? Look, here, Johnathan, if you can't get it through your head, I haven't spent years on Mayor Bellwether's ranks to be fooled by the scum of the streets."

Okay, that's it. I don't spend weeks chained upside down to be called 'the scum of the streets.' I'm not dying again.

"I don't care what you want or what you don't, LT. I don't give a flying f-"

"Ah, ah, language, foxy. Watch it, or you'll be out for good. Believe me, I always make good on my promises."

"I'm sure you do, but weren't you listening, bun-bun?"

As soon as those words passed my lips, I knew that I had made a colossal mistake. Even the Judy I knew would have likely tanned my hide for calling her a 'bun-bun.' But this eyepatch-wearing, battle-scarred rabbit before me…

I don't get scared very often, but boy, oh boy, this was a different situation.

"Mayor! Mayor! Mayor Bellwether!"

Bellwether turned to face the panicked ram that was rapidly approaching. "What is it, Capri? I thought I gave you explicit instructions to never interrupt a private meeting." She waved a paw at the fox seated in the chair across the table from her. "My apologies, sir, he doesn't understand much."

"I take no offense, Mayor Bellwether. I presume all is going well?"

"Yes, indeed, Atropos."

"My apologies, again, the most sincere apologies, but that isn't quite true anymore, Mayor."

"And just what," she said, eyebrows arched, "do you mean by that, Mister Kohrn?"

"Revolt, Ma'am. Sabotage from the inside."

"What?" Bellwether's eyes snapped wide open, fury burning bright behind them.

"Revolt, Ma'am. Code Red, Ma'am."

"Oh, dear." Atropos sighed disinterestedly. "See you later, then? Remember your promise."