Chapter 48

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"Okay," Judy said, her foot giving a few nervous thumps as she breathed out. "Nothing like walking myself into this." Her mouth perked up into a nervous grin as the crowd around her nodded. Nick, Basil, Dave and Carmelita sat there, in their thoroughly vetted and bug-proof office, a whiteboard on display.

Nothing yet written on it.

The bunny chewed on her lip slightly. Were her front teeth getting too long, or was this awkwardness just hanging on to rub in the point. Yes, she was right, the only way to strike back and make any progress was to stop waiting for each one of their moves and actually do something, put their foot in, make them react.

But the golden question was how?

She sighed, at this rate they'd be throwing out another spark of chaos or something, and the group would be back to playing catchup again. She gritted a paw, her claws digging into her palms, not that it helped her focus or anything. Why couldn't they be the ones on the backpaw for once. Why couldn't…

Her ears jumped up and she facepawed, wiping them down before stepping out. "Right," she said.

Nick raised a paw up. "-Said Fred."

She gave him a skeptical glance that faded somewhat at his smug grin. "Basil, Dave, may you do the honours."

"Hmmmm?" the former asked, as the latter gave a short salute, walked over to Nick's upper leg on its chair and gave it a solid elbow.

"Ah," Basil said, walking over and repeating the action.

Nick, smiling as he looked down, looked up at Judy. "Your fox abuse outsourcing has a slight technical hitch."

"It's the spirit that counts," Judy said, pausing as Nick's grin grew further. "Anyway, we keep on thinking that we're the ones being played. Being forced onto the reactive. But, I think we all know that they've been too. And that's when they're most likely to make their mistakes and reveal their true paw."

With that, the bunny walked up to the whiteboard and wrote down 'Kris' arrest', underlining it for emphasis. "They could not have planned this. One of the runners transporting the manufactured howler drug got picked on, by chance, a complete jerk." She began drawing a very bad image of a not very attractive looking woodchuck, sticking her tongue out as she focussed on making it at least somewhat recognisable. A few stink lines added, she circled the portrait before drawing an arrow down to a triangle, a few lines and shading added to give it a rough resemblance to a vulpine of indeterminate origin. "Beavis acted on his own, using the howlers as a prank to frame Kris, being too immature to even consider the implications beyond 'Lol, this will be funny.'" Completely separate to Rattigan and his cronies plans at the time."

"Doubly so," Nick added, "as Kris wasn't even the original target. Ash was, Beavis just got the wrong locker."

Judy paused before shaking her head. "How could I forget that, I was there when he figured it out." She went back to the whiteboard, giving a rough copy of a vulpine face next to the one there. "Either way, the fact that Kris got thrown in got their attention again. Now, they could have acted worried, thinking that this leak might lead back to them. But instead, they got more involved. They put out a deepfake right before a vote about amending the Nighthowler act, resulting in Kris staying in prison for longer than he had to."

"And," Nick said, finger up. "They were hunting down Duke Weaslton too, given that he was the prime suspect. They didn't plan on Kris being kept in prison, or even being in prison, but as soon as it happened they realized they liked it. To the point they exposed themselves putting out deepfakes, sent their agents…" He paused. "Hang on," he said, turning to Basil and Dave. "Can you two get pictures of the stuff that happened at the ZNN newsroom blown up for me?"

"What?" Basil asked. "Think you've worked out who Mr Fox two really is or…"

"No, no. Two big cats followed him out, right? Lion and tiger, like the lion and tiger Rattigan sent out after Duke. Right?"

"Ah," Dave said, running off to a mouse sized computer terminal.

Nick nodded. "I've always thought that the lion and tiger the others talked about rang a bell. But I never had a picture to remember them by. That's changed now."

"Good," Judy said, turning back to the whiteboard. "Now, I could classify all the stuff with Kris and so on as just them throwing out distractions for us. Except…"

"Kris' father," Basil cut in. "Weird ancient Efrafan and Armyeenian stuff, the exact place that Rattigan last was when he went off the grid."

"That along with the entire Purrcific ring of fire," Dave commented, flicking print on the screen. "Going around on that air cruise."

"Yes," the bunny said, "but coincidences like this are too good for us to pass up."

Carmelita looked on, nodding a little, but otherwise remaining very silent and still.

"Either way," she said, tapping on the whiteboard. "They tried to get some very specific help from Dr Silverfox. Trying to paint themselves as his friend, trying to get him as desperate as possible so he would take their bait, agree to work for him, or just give them the information they needed without even knowing it."

"Alas," Carm said, "it seems there are others opposed to them on the other side of the law, who talked the dear professor out of that. Just like they came to battle his cronies at the polar bears house."

"Not that the enemy of our enemy is our friend, of course," Basil pointed out, rubbing his chin. "Now, the way I see it there are two contrasting rules at play here. That the simplest answer is the most likely one, and that when you have eliminated all that is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, is the truth."

"Oh, you like that saying," Dave said, rolling his eyes before looking at Nick. "Photo is set out to print."

The Fox nodded, stepping out and walking to get it.

"Either way, the most obvious answer is simple. Rattigan learnt of some treasure in Armyeenia and has been searching to see it complete. And, such is his obsession with it, he'd do anything to retrieve it."

"While I agree there," Carmelita said, "case in point the interest in Kozlov and his, uh, interesting necklace."

"But it was just a lump of metal," Judy said. "Damaged metal."

Carmelita gave her a level gaze. "Did he not intrust it to you? And does not that mysterious wolf who confronted Dr Silverfox also have an interest in it, to the point of having his own copy?"

"I, yes…" the bunny said, writing 'necklace' down and beginning to draw out what looked roughly like a bear. "I mean, I thought it was just sentimental…"

"Enough for the wolf and Rattigan to be after it," Carmelita pointed out.

"Maybe it used to be the wolf's," Basil suggested.

Carm glanced at him. "Then why did the fox and a bunch of other bears raid his home? I can see sentimentality working for just two mammals in a squabble. Many more…"

"Very valid point," the mouse agreed. "Now, as I was going to say, that would give a simple explanation for all that was going on. Except the nighthowlers." he began pacing about. "They were smuggling and refining them far, far before all this went on. So why?"

"Well, maybe they plan to raid the museum," Carmelita suggested, her paw going up. "Maybe they planned to use the chemical on the night staff, the guards, maybe even as a direct weapon against the police trying to stop the raid."

"Or a distraction for us to keep us off their tails," Basil pondered. "-Except, especially for something small like a necklace, it is not the stealing that is the tricky part. It's the selling of the goods. They could send a small team in to pick it up, take it out, chance are mammals wouldn't know until the next day."

"Unless it was a large object," Carmelita pointed out.

"Yes, but what large object could he be looking for?" Basil asked, as the door opened, Nick coming in and jumping into the conversations as if he'd never left.

"A tacky fake sarcophagus."

"Ha," Judy snorted, "I remember…" She trailed off as Nick walked over to the board, a firm determination on his face. "Wait, you're serious? I mean even if it was genuine it'd be the wrong culture…"

"No, no, hear him out," Carm said, a paw raised up. She looked at Nick expectantly, the fox nodding back and putting a picture of the newsroom scene, tiger and lion standing there, on the board.

"I knew a lion and tiger sounded familiar, and guess what, they are. I just needed to see their faces first."

Judy looked on too, pausing, before her eyes widened. "No, no, wait a second. That's not…"

"It is," Nick said. "I'm sure of it. The lion and tiger who we saw at Buster Moon's theater, putting a bid on that obviously fake sarcophagus. The one which, if I remember correctly about how Jack and Skye got together…"

Judy's eyes widened with recognition. "Got overbid directly by an eccentric fox, who carried it off then and there."

Nick laughed. "So even if they were pulling stuff all the way back then, their mysterious opponents were counterplaying."

"Unless this fox is a bad guy fox," Dave pointed out.

"In which case," Basil said, "they're fully against each other."

Nick nodded. "I mean, the possibility that there's multiple bad guys fighting against each other and we're just mistaking them all as one was always there." He stroked his chin. "But…"

"If we talk too long about what they might be doing, we're getting no closer to actually catching them," Judy said. She turned back to the board. "So, let's say that sarcophagus getting taken was the first interruption to their plan. How did they react to that?"

The room was silent for a second before Nick shrugged. "Well, Buster Moon broke the rules of an auction they were probably going to win anyhow. He then goes missing. Then comes back… with interesting recollections of events, so I've heard. We'll need to talk to him."

Judy nodded, starting to draw a very rough koala before Nick came up, took the pen from her and, ignoring her caustic glare, rubbed out the drawing and wrote 'Koala' instead.

He smiled, handing back the pen to a nose twitching, foot thumping, bunny, giving her naught but a shrug. "We'll also want to check with Oates' interview details."

Begrudgingly the bunny nodded, turning back to the whiteboard. "So, that messed up their plan… But they didn't learn about it until they checked in just before the end of the auction and found they'd be jilted. That was after the problems with Kris. The whole stuff with Kris then came next. That was an unexpected boon, given that they tried their best to keep it going. They even tried to start a riot at the end, bugging our own undercover operative only for it to backfire in the most satisfying way possible."

"Can confirm," Nick said, as Carmelita cleared her throat.

"Maybe," she said, tapping her feet on the floor a little, "the reason for the howlers is to do with a museum heist. It is a distraction, for us. If we're busy trying to capture savage mammals, then who will be there to stop us busting in and out of the museum."

"So, like Die Herd Three," Judy said, before pausing. "Well, not exactly, but you get the idea."

Carm paused. "I have only seen Die Herd Two. -But, if they're looking for a distraction, a riot at city hall would be just as good as savages. We're dealing with that, they bust into the museum and take back their sarcophagus…"

"Except," Basil said, "we don't know it's there and even if it is they wouldn't know about it yet."

Carm's ears went back, before jumping up once again. "The principal still stands. It makes what they've been doing with the howlers recently make sense too."

Nick's eyes widened. "Yup, they try and set off some kind of incident on Outback Island."

"Then with squirrels," Judy agreed.

Carm nodded. "I can still get in contact with the museum. They might be able to suggest potential targets." She smiled. "If we could fake moving one from place A to B…"

"How would they learn about it?" Nick asked. "And how would they not learn about it."

There was a long pause before Basil spoke up. "Let us rule out any leaks in the ZPD itself for a second. We showed Chief Bogo how mice could infiltrate and yes, we know that Rattigan has a bat he uses for infiltration and criminal deeds. But, this place is sound proofed, it's been checked over. Ergo…" He tapped his chin, pondering for a second. "Which of our plans did they hear about."

"Which was what I was going for at the start," Judy pointed out.

"Indeed, indeed. They found out about the undercover case on Wassermaim."

Judy wrote it down.

"They obviously found that Mr Fox was going to ZNN somehow, and interrupted that."

Judy wrote it down.

"And, as far as we know, starting off… They found out about your friends looking for Duke Weaselton, sending the lion and tiger to trail them on their investigations."

Dave nodded before pausing. "Hang on, if the lion and tiger who went after those two were the ones Nick and Judy and ergo they saw at that auction… -How come they don't remember."

"Simple," Basil shrugged. "They didn't see them on one of the two occasions, or even simpler, they forgot!"

"I… Oh, quite right."

"Anyway," the mouse said, squaring his eyes on the three listed events. "What is it that groups these together? That links them and their planning, that let them learn about it and play their game." He knitted his paws together.

"I would not be in the know for all these," Carmelita said, "So I could go and check out the museum, just ask around the staff. See if they might have any idea over what would be the target, from that culture."

"Eh," Nick shrugged. "Worth a shot. Same for Buster. Ask him about the lion and tiger, as they might have been the ones to take him." He paused, before a little grin grew on his muzzle. "And as we got our goat delivered to us about the time the koala went missing, I might as well…"

"Ooooh," Basil chirped. "Good catch. Long shot, but talking is free."

The group looked around at each other, nodding. "Okay then," Judy said. "Let's figure this out, before they make one of their moves again."

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Duke looked on, curious, as Little John sat back and reminisced. "I'm not gonna say I was that close to my brother." He chuckled a little. "Hard to imagine, but I was the runt of the litter, and he, well, was not. -Not to say he isn't a swell guy or anything, but he went out of his way to go out adventuring and all that. And I think that in his eyes I was a liability back then."

"Uh-hu," came the voice of the badger. "Any reason why you shot up eventually? Change of diet perhaps?"

"Genes with a mean sense of humour," Little John waved off. "Anyhow, this story ain't about me. It's about my big, now slightly littler, bro. So, when I was still going through school, he started going after a pilots license of all things. Don't ask me why, he just went up north and, rather than joining the oil mammals or truckers, went to one of these one-plane air carriers and got himself a gig. He didn't ask for much, he didn't get much, from what I heard a lot of the time he didn't even have a house! He just let his fur grow long and, if he couldn't bum a spare couch he'd go out to the forest and find a place to sleep. -Every winter he'd build an igloo, say he only needed the bare necessities." There was a pause, the bear shrugging. "Bare necessities for the nineteenth century… BC, I'd say. Either way, he'd earn what he could with a few of these cargo carriers, helping to load and unload the cargo on the cheap in return for spare change and the odd chance to get some experience flying and all… Because I guess up there the ground crew have never heard of a union."

Duke looked up, hearing the slightly cynical way the big bear had said it, and then watching on in delight as, while the rest of the group there whooped and cheered and laughed and 'about right-ed' at it, the large ursines left eyelid twitched ever so slightly.

"-Anyway," the bear shook off, "the point is after a few years scrounging and saving, he did get a basic pilot's license, got himself a regular gig at which point he really took things seriously. And, eventually, when he got the chance he got his own plane." There was a shrug. "And that was about time the wall came down, and a whole new wild west opened up. The far, far east."

"I heard Cape Suzette was the place for those wanting to try their paw making money up there," Meister said.

"Uh-hu," Little John agreed, waving his paw. "I mean, Medvedan tended to be the best airport if flying in and out of the far Eastern wilderness, but given the state the country was in, fuel was about the only thing you could bank on getting there. -On a good day. You'd actually need to get what you wanted to sell or buy in and out, and those at Cape Suzette managed to strike a deal where customs and all would be covered on their side. That way, you wouldn't need to worry about paying bribes or anything, most of the time. Anyway, you're right, the point is that for whatever reason that was the gateway to the far North East, and in a good place for all sorts of other air cargo too. So, what did my brother do? Went there, picked up an apprentice, and began flying."

"Into the great unknown, like a true adventurer. A good predator," the cacomistle said.

"Except," Little John said, a paw pointed out. "It wasn't unknown. Mammals lived there, they had always lived there." He threaded his paws together and leant forwards. "Mammals living off tiny plots of land where they could. Or more often than not nomads. Reindeer tribes who'd go around gathering up lichen and making soups from pine needles or fermented silage from harvested grass. Polar bears and arctic foxes, who'd live on the ice itself in the deep winter, fishing through holes before harvesting and burying eggs when the spring and the snow geese came. Musk ox tribes who'd wander across the tundra, burying stores of grass in the frozen earth, below the frozen earth, so it'd ferment and years later they'd eat it. Not that they didn't graze like unevolved beasts in the coldest months of the year. Or trade the odd mammoth tusk they might dig up, carving it into jewellery. And that isn't even mentioning the small rodents living off pine nuts and all that…"

"Proper mammals," the badger nodded. "Leading a proper life…"

"Apart from the fact it was a pretty miserable existence by and large," Little John cut in. "Scraping an existence by. No healthcare, no provisions, no nothing. Just what they could carry on their backs and a whole ton of superstition." He raised an eyebrow at the badger. "No offence, but you wouldn't have survived out there. Heck, chances are they'd have left you out in the snow as a cub, save themselves the food."

The mustelid was quiet for a little bit, before waving his paw. "Well, by that I meant they were in tune with the seasons. Nature, all that."

"Uh-hu," Little John agreed. "Very charitable of you to give them that. -But, eventually, development came their way. Now, I ain't gonna lie, the first thing they probably heard of the government they were under was when a bunch of chained up mammals were marched nearby and made to build a gulag. I ain't gonna defend that, but what I will say is that life did begin to change for them. Did begin to get better. Villages and towns were set up, sometimes just a single block of flats by the beach or something, but it was something. Mines began to open, the chance to do forestry work became available, and at the very least a helicopter would come around once a week or once a month. They got the chance to learn to read, to write, to get medicines, to have their ill taken to and from a hospital. They got a lifeline, and they learnt to rely on it. Raising them up. And then, one day, when all those who'd known the old ways had died, a wall fell on the other side of the world and that lifeline fell with it. And these mammals were left stranded and adrift, in abandoned towns in the middle of nowhere, no food, no medicine, no power, no help, no nothing. Thrown back into the savage ages, left adrift for themselves."

"And then," Conway said, "mammals like your brother came." His ears rose up. "To trade, to exchange, to give them that lifeline back."

"Well, most were on the cynical side," Little John waved off. "But my brother? As he flew around these villages, landing on a snowy beach here or a laketop runway there, exchanging foods and equipment between half a dozen towns before loading up on panned gold or diamonds sifted from the abandoned spoil tips to fly back, he saw the misery they'd been thrown into and realised he had to do something." His eyes narrowed. "Even if in many cases it was fighting off the vultures wanting to feast on their half dead carcass."

"Weren't there air pirates or something wacky like that operating around there?" the hyena asked.

"Oh yeah," Little John said, giving a little chuckle. "My brother had many an encounter with the worst of the worst of them, Don Karnage. Even rescued some mammals from him."

"Badass," Shenzi said, folding her paws. "I mean, that's what we're seeking out to do, isn't it? Fight the pirates! Fight the crooks trying to keep us down. The ones our guy is trying to uncover." She walked forward to pat the computer, Duke taking the chance to look up at Little John, the bear holding back.

"Yup," the weasel said, "that was exactly what you were trying to lead on to. Right?" He gave a wink and two thumbs up, the bear giving him a death glare in return.

"Not exactly," he said, clearing his throat a little. "I was actually going to talk about what all these locals were doing. Not so much the settlers from the west. Those who'd been brought to this area against their will… Well, to be fair, by that point those specific mammals were dead or too old to move, but their children were starting to move away. Piling into trucks, spending days to get to the nearest railway station to spend days travelling halfway across the world. But these were ones who'd at least heard of a supposed better place in the west. Those who'd always lived in the far east though, they just had long forgotten guides for survival. Old tales from their babushka about how her babushka would wander the wilderness in a tribe, digging out underground pots of fermented silage to munch down on under the midday moon."

"In their new homes, warmed by a power plant and fed with food supplies trucked in across the year, they hadn't needed them. They'd long ago let go of the skills, or only remembered them as helpful hobbies. Sure, they might have some buried pots going or something to help space out their meals or for old times sake, but the great stockpiles of long-stored caches were long gone. They'd never need them again, but now as the power went out and the trucks stopped coming they realised they very much did."

"Which is why what we're doing is so important for both predator and prey," the badger said, cutting Little John off. "I mean, I know you don't have as much of an issue with prey as most of us. Indeed, I like you, you're an idealist. Optimist. A bit naive, but eh we all have faults. But yeah, even those of us with issues…" He levelled a slight gaze on Meister, Shenzi, Alice. "Have to admit that scaring prey with our movement only makes things difficult for us. If we could use this as an example of why this post predator-prey-ness is such a danger to us, to them, to everyone, we could make real progress. Show them how trying to break the natural order just ends in disaster for everyone!"

"I mean," the bear said, clearing his throat. "This was more an unwarranted collapse of basic rights provisions. Imagine if the water and power were just turned off here. I… Alice, was it?" He looked at the swift fox. "Your ancestors used to hunt game and fish on the great plains, you might have heard stories about that. They used to know which fruits and roots were safe to eat and not. And you've got to agree your life is a lot more comfier and safer right now, and that's a good thing. And if everything was just turned back in a moment's notice, you'd absolutely suffer and struggle. That's nothing to do with predator, prey…"

"You know," Meister cut in, "high energy prices justified by highly exaggerated concerns of climate change are obviously a sheep engineered ploy. Our food is naturally more energy intensive and will be the first to be cut off or rationed if the supply lines fail, or the hysterical treehugging proxies get any kind of power. We're just the dumb unrefined savages, we should eat that fancy veggie soy stuff instead! And if the energy goes out and we have a cold winter, those with wool will be perfectly fine, especially when they start fleecing us for scraps of their fleeces." He looked at Little John. "Once they abandon blatant predator to prey wealth transfer and make their wool so expensive no-one can afford it, what will you do huh? As they sit cosy and tight while the rest of us freeze."

There was a long pause before Little John threw out his paws. "Dude, I'm a bear. I'll stop taking my hiber-not pills, dig a hole, and sleep it off until spring comes around."

"And what about me?" the cacomistle said. "I am tropical mammal. Me, my wife, my daughter, my family. We what, we shiver and freeze when the sheep cut off the power?"

"The sheep," Little John sighed. "Are not going to cut off the power. -And if they try it, you do realise there are so many mammals who'll get angry at it, they'd probably rise up and decide to finally take over and run the energy system. For us, for everyone, predator and prey. Let's move past that for a second…"

"I mean," the badger said. "That's what the mammals who got the ones your brother wanted to help into that mess in the first place said when they first got control. 'The Tsar is dead', 'Workers of the World unite', 'we are the union that abolished god', 'we are the nation that moves beyond pred and prey'. That was their ideology, predator and prey were figments, fictional, pointless distractions set up to divide us in the past by those in power. Now those mammals were dead and so they could build their post pred-prey utopia, where predator and prey meant nothing when compared to the divide, the class divide. And that made them so much more advanced than those of us here still arguing over it." He shook his head. "But in reality they were just sticking their fingers in their ears and saying 'La-La-La'. And when it all fell apart, it fell apart. So I don't know why you're defending it, or where you're getting at it here, unless you're trying to convince us you're the one who knows how to make it actually work."

"I…" the bear began to say, only for Duke to step in.

"Hey, he probably just heard just how much it truly sucked for these mammals back then." he shrugged, pointing at the hyena. "I mean, I know you don't like lions and lions don't like you. But if you were talking about the howler crisis or something, mammals began trying to bring up lions and hyenas... -Eh, you know, not the time. Distasteful. You know?"

"I… Guess," she said, as the badger spoke up.

"I mean, I'm confused here. What exactly are you trying to get at? I at first thought you were trying to explain why your brother was this great role model, and yeah, he is! Through hard graft and cunning he got into a good position, he flew into the wilderness to trade and fight off bad guys, he even chose to use it to help out some mammals in need by the sound of it. But then you say it's about the locals, and you start going off about how the locals, especially the prey locals, were tricked and set up and suffered. Stripped from their indigenous ways of life and such and having their culture attacked, which if you're trying to convince those who are against us… Yeah, I thought that was a really good way of taking something they always tend to yatter on about and say is really important, and point out how if they care about that they should support us."

"Nah," Conway scoffed. "When they do it, it's 'protecting indigenous rights'. When we do it, it's 'romancing the noble savage.'"

"Dammit," the badger groaned, shaking his head. "Shoulda known we couldn't…" He paused, looking back up at Little John. "But I mean, now you're saying it's nothing to do with them and all this anyhow. It's the fact that… What? The wall shouldn't have fallen, I mean…"

"Okay," the bear said, pinching his nose and breathing out. "Okay, let me just recollect my thoughts, it's been a long time since I heard all this… How they all worked together, to not be an unorganized herd as you put it and worked together…"

"-Uh-hu," Duke cut in, siding up to him. "Getting things all mixed up. Forgetting all the good predator things the preds were doing and prey things the prey were doing, and how they helped everyone out. Undid the damage the post pred and prey stuff… -whatever that was, did."

"Okay then," Meister said, looking at John, paws crossed. "What did they do to fix it?"

"What did they do to get the prey respecting us again?" The hyena added, as Alice yelled out.

"What did we do to get back in control?"

"Right! Right, right," Little John called off, pausing as he saw the slightly hostile looks and putting his paws up. "One at a time, please, I'm only one bear. I… -At least my brother had a little one to pick up some of the slack."

"Ahem," Duke said, crossing his paws and looking up.

Little John looked down and brought out a paw to gently nudge him far away. "I think you've been helpful enough," he said, eyes fixing on Duke for a long moment. And then he broke his gaze and turned back to the assembled group. "Now okay, yeah… My brother certainly had a lot of stories about how they suffered, how things for everyone didn't get better, they got worse. So all this noble savage stuff, yeah. It's a bitter pill to swallow. And that's also why my brother made sure that so many of his trips carried aid, carried supplies, tried to make up somewhat for what had been ripped from them. Because these mammals, all mammals, deserve support, deserve security, dignity. And…"

"Excuse me," the cacomistle said, finger up slightly. "But… What would point of trying to replace that be? What would the point of giving these mammals back this support flying in, coming in to drop them this and that…"

"Because this is the modern world," Little John almost groaned. "And mammals, all mammals, deserve…"

"Respect?" he said, his voice cutting in with a sudden more hostile tone. "That is what we are all here for. Not about food and riches and… -I mean yes, we want those. We deserve those. But this is about who we are. About respect. About not getting it changed by mammals who think they know best. You are not very respectful to me," he said, pointing at himself. "You not even let me finish my question. What is point of him trying to come in, do a worse job of the government that wrecked it all for them in the first place, if one day he is just going to leave, huh? Then it will be the same problem, all over again."

He was met with a round of agreement from the others, the badger especially clapping hard before looking at Little John. "Yeah, I'm really not sure what you think you're doing here with this story. We're a pack. Not a herd bleating for handouts or…"

"-I mean I was going to get on to what the predators were doing to build themselves up," Little John said in a panicked voice. His mouth opened and closed a little as the expectant eyes of the crowd lingered on him. There was an awkward silence, his eyes widened slightly, and he sat down. "Anyway, my brother, the pilot, he'd go from these villages to villages, maybe the odd town. And as I said, this would be three odd housing blocks on the shore of the frozen sea, a mix of a wolf tribe and a caribou tribe at a small coal mine. Or a bunch of musk ox at a fishing village."

There were a few scoffs from the table, one of them, the Badger, pausing and reassuring Little John. "Just at the idiots who thought they could move past 'pred and prey' and them being stupid. Carry on."

"Yeah," the bear said. "Anyway, you really were limited to some degree by what you could carry on a plane. Nothing too heavy, after all. Which for a coal mining village… Well, at this stage everyone was just logging wood, so nobody wanted anything from there. But you couldn't carry anything big or heavy by plane and so it was these dirt tracks through the forests. Big trucks, carrying things slowly, easy prey for bandits. And I mean really. -And here's the odd thing, do you know which mammals really, and I mean really, were the worst for looting these?"

The dramatic silence was broken by Mesiter. "THE SHEEP!"

"No," Little John groaned, facepawing. "It was not the sheep, it…"

"Well, not directly," the bobcat elaborated. "They probably had abused and indoctrinated 'sheep dogs', broken wolves, acting as their bandits. All the better, the blame falls on the preds."

The bear paused, blinking. "No, you don't get 'tamed sheep dogs.'"

"I mean, there was this cult out in Bunnyburrow, and I tell you…"

"You don't get 'tamed sheep dogs', period, ever," Little John said, leaning over and thrusting his finger down. Meister began to speak only for the bear to ignore him completely. "Anyway, it was actually the squirrels. I-"

"Oh yeah," the badger said in sudden realization, various simultaneous expressions of the same sentiment flying across the room. "No cuss it would be the squirrels."

The rounds of agreement kept on flying around, Little John left looking and wondering just what squirrels had done in this town to deserve this. And if this was the case, why the whole conspiracy stuff was on the sheep and not them.

"Stinking tree rats," Alice grumbled, joining the group. "Mean acorn munching cusses."

"I…" Little John said. "Anyway, the big thing with attacking these trucks was that the cargo was never that expensive. Big, bulky, you couldn't sell it anywhere either. But expensive fittings from the truck, spare parts of the engine, spark plugs from car engines too. You name it, they'd mob it and take it, often jumping onto the vehicle from the trees while it was still driving and picking it apart around the driver. Anything small and valuable like jewellery, well that's part of why the planes were so important. And yeah, they weren't the only mammals looting. Plenty of pred, prey, wolves, you name it." The bear let loose a long sigh. "There was one band of nomadic caribou, back on the wander, and scraping lichen and grass could not keep them fed. And so, when they, a hundred strong, found a small goat village of twenty with its own stores of food and vegetable plots."

He let out a shrug. "I remember my brother mentioning how he found a village just stripped bare like that of everything it had. All the food, anything of value that could be sold, or just burned for easy firewood. The villagers themselves were fine. I mean, twenty goats against five times as many caribou. All they could do was climb onto the roof of their apartment building in the middle of the forest and watch everything, the whole stinking livelihood they'd clawed out for themselves, get taken away."

The room was silent, all attention back now on Little John as he continued. "So it took a few ferry flights for my brother to get those mammals out of there, to a richer town that had shops and stuff, not that there was much in the way of food there anyhow. Especially, well, when another group of mammals who'd had the same thing done to them turned up. Tiny little lemmings, everything they'd scraped together stolen to feed hungry mouths, everything of value they'd tried to carry along the long dirt roads snatched from them by poverty stricken squirrels trying to fund the cheap medicine to treat their sick. And… And who was going to do anything about it? I mean, my brother wanted to, but he couldn't just go around over the forest in his plane, shooting any caribou herd he saw and hoping he was only murdering the guilty. And heck, he wasn't even up to doing that. He was a flying friend, not some fireforce or Sovanochi LARPer…"

"Sova-What-chi?" cut in the cacomistle.

Little John looked at him. "This demon bird in their folklore that apparently literally everyone there swore existed. -Heck, many would say they saw its glowing orange eyes at least once in their life. I can't remember the indigenous name, but the Russian one was that. -Which literally translates as owl of the night or something."

"Ah," chirped the sea otter, pointing at himself. "Like the Thunderbird."

"Yes, yes," Little John agreed. "Like how every culture across the world has giant evil birds in their folklore…"

"Uh-hu," Shenzi agreed, pointing at herself. "We had the izulu. The lightning bird."

"Exactly," Little John agreed. "As if you're a little guy, up until guns were invented bird of prey could just swoop in and take you off."

"Uh-hu," the hyena nodded, "but lightning bird is way better than owl of the night… All owls are owls of the night. What kind of cussing name even is that?"

Duke managed to smirk. "Some dumb bad translation of the original made by the russians."

"Well," Little John carried on. "Demon bird or no demon bird, the real problem facing these mammals was that caribou herd going around and picking everyone clean. And not long after that goat village was attacked, my brother began hearing that some local mammals were starting to put their foot down. Enough was enough. And one group, one species in particular, decided to go out and do something about it."

.

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AN: For anyone not liking the stuff with LJ and Duke... This whole stuff with them is wrapping up next week (until they become relevant again later, of course!). Also, the name Sovanochi and any resemblance to the usernames of any frequent commentator of mine is a coincidence...

No seriously, it is hahaha. First I clocked it was when he brought it up in a read through.