Dear Diary,

As it would turn out, Mr. McCloud is nothing like I feared he might be, and I have so much to think about and write about. In a good way! But I need to start from the beginning.

Like I said in my last entry, Miss Sinclair picked me up in the café in Corneria city, and so I got my first look at my employer. A tall, white-furred Spaniel, very fashionable. As from our emails and holo-calls, I already had the impression she was a peppy, bouncy, and very friendly young woman, and this was confirmed in person. She shook my paw eagerly and told me how happy she was I took the job. She offered to buy me a coffee, and I told her I already had one while I waited for her. And so we walked to her car, got in, and were on our way to Mr. McCloud's home.

We made small talk, animated by Miss Sinclair's infectious kindness. How was my trip? Very good, thank you. What did I think of Corneria so far? Very bustling and big. And was I excited? I certainly was. I resisted the urge to ask questions about Mr. McCloud—despite my nerves I wanted it to be a surprise—but I did ask how she knew him. This led to a delightful story of how a young McCloud stumbled into her life in high school. She was his senior, and her and her friends took him under their wing. Needless to say, there are many stories there.

"I have sisterly feelings towards him," she said. "That's why I vetted you myself. I wanted to be absolutely sure you were the right person for the job. A reporter with lesser character would've seen this as just a means to advance a career, and give little respect to my friend. But you? I can already tell you're a good person. And I'm good at getting a sense of people."

"You're very kind," I said, blushing. Her smile just brightened.

Oh, and she urged me to call her Fay. She appreciated my manners, but Miss Sinclair sounded too stuffy. So, Fay it shall be.

Sooner or later, she added, I would get to talk to Fox's other team members. Peppy Hare, the elder statesmen of the team who flew with Fox's own father. Slippy Toad, one of Fox's oldest friends and gadgeteer wunderkind for the team. And Falco Lombardi, ace pilot and wild child. Getting their sense of the war would flesh out the narrative, even if it was from Mr. McCloud's perspective. I was about knocked off my paws, even sitting down in the car. Getting to talk to all of them? Incredible.

And then I was asked about—and Fay's brow creased—the details of what happened to Fox's father, James McCloud, to gauge what I knew. I knew only what I heard from the front during the war. His death, and betrayal by Pigma Dengar, were known even out in Cerinia. Horribly tragic. And all the worse because it came about through treachery. I told her what I knew, and she nodded.

"Whether or not Fox chooses to talk about it in the book is his decision," she said. Of course. She smiled when she heard my quick response, but looked somber again when she added that more than likely, he would talk about it, but he would not mention his mother. That made me wonder, but I could tell that whatever was there was not Fay's story to tell.

Everyone has their boundaries.

Going on around us, outside the car windows while we talked, was a remarkable transition. The dense urban streets of Corneria city melted into the beautiful countryside and forests of the planet. It was eye-catching; I never would've thought that a planet with such a huge and developed capital city could have such pastoral scenes. It made me think of home. Cerinia is more tropical than temperate, but still. I missed the Mother Planet already, but tempering than homesickness was a desire to see more of Corneria.

We traveled winding roads, idly chatting, when Mr. McCloud's home finally came into view.

On Cerinia we have a saying. The home reflects the mind. Even without our powers we can tell the state of a person just through looking at their domicile. Seeing Mr. McClouds cozy farmhouse, two stories and situated on the edge of some woods, with its lovely porch and rocking chairs, immediately gave me a sense of a man at ease. Or at least a man with a lot to put him at ease. Instead of an ostentatious or pretentious McMansion of some braggart, here was a picture of an easy country home, postcard perfect. Simply beautiful.

And there, sitting on the steps to the front porch, was a vulpine.

He was a young man around my age, with a mug in his paws filled with what I guessed was coffee. His ears stood up when he saw Fay's car pull into his driveway and park. He wore jeans and a t-shirt, and his build was athletic, though when he stood up and approached the car I got the impression I was taller than him.

We got out of the car. "Fox!" said Fay. "How gentlemanly of you, waiting for us."

The vulpine—the Fox McCloud himself—simply smiled and shrugged. "You would've barged in anyway, Fay," he said. "Best to greet the storm myself."

I noticed his eyes. Typically, I would expect a war hero to have eyes that were hardened, callous even. Nursing some deep pain behind false bravado or a perpetual vacant stare. For how peripheral Cerinia was in the Lylat War there were fierce battles nearby. Men and woman came back changed or wounded or didn't come back at all. And I saw their eyes in my reporting days. But with Fox eyes, while I did see that hard edge, I also saw…warmth. Goodness. The war was clearly a crucible, and he more than many others knew that, but while it must've put him through so much it did not destroy him. He walked right up to me and—blushing a little, and probably noticing I was a tad taller than him—gave me a smile and held out his paw.

"You must be Miss Krystal," he said. "I'm Fox McCloud. It's nice to meet you."

…if mother were there, oh goodness. She would've smothered him in a hug and never let him go. I liked him immediately.

"Please to meet you, Mr. McCloud." I said.

"Please, call me Fox," he said, chuckling.

We shook paws. Goodness, he was quite handsome.

"Excellent first impression!" said Fay. "Let's get inside, so we can talk things over."

The inside of Fox's home confirmed the earlier Cerinian adage. Fox's home was orderly, cozy, and his choice of furniture was perfect for the home. Rustic pieces that were neither too fussy or too boring. Fox kept a good home, and I assumed that his mind was in similar good order.

We sat in his living room and hashed out the details of the job. Over however many sessions necessary, Fox would dictate his memoir to me while I wrote his words and made the necessary artistic and narratorial changes. I would ask the relevant questions as well. Fox was worried by how long the job would take—he didn't want to waste my time, as he said, bless him—and me and Fay urged him not to worry. We'd get thought it alright, and this wasn't my first writing gig. Briefly, the topic of my powers came up for disclosure, and thankfully Fox and Fay were already aware and knew the customs. No, of course I wasn't a wanton mind-reader, and Fox had seen so much of the system that while he had never been to Cerinia itself, I wasn't the first Cerinian he'd ever seen.

Fay would be the one paying. Fox wanted to cover it himself, but Fay was insistent. She procured my advance pay, and also let me know she would be covering where I would stay for the duration. It was an apartment she owned in the city, quiet and peaceful and perfect for any writing work. I was floored, and grateful.

And that's where I am now, in that apartment. I can confirm, it is nice.

Anyway, we parted ways. I would arrive tomorrow to begin the work, sometime around lunchtime. In the meantime, for this evening, I'm organizing my thoughts while taking in this incredible view of the city from a window by my desk.

…I like Fox. I know I said I liked him immediately, but I need to emphasize it. I'm eager to hear his story. Part of what got me into writing and reporting was the adventure of meeting people, and Fox is that sort subject a reporter dreams of meeting. I know now more than ever that this job is a blessing. Mother Maira is good to me this day.

The work starts tomorrow. Well, time to rest then, and get ready for it all.

Text conversation between Krystal and her mother, Lapis.

Krystal: Met Fox today. You'd love him to bits.

Lapis: Oh, well now I might have to show up sometime. Unannounced, of course, for maximum effect!

Krystal: Mother…

Lapis: It's more fun that way, dear~.