October, 1968

Cambridge, Great Britain

It was a bitterly cold afternoon, and it was only going to get colder as the autumn wore on. The bright colors of the leaves outside provided a lovely view, though the dull, gray sky left much to be desired. Even so, there was something attractive about the contrast of the dark reds and oranges stretching up to meet the gray, overcast blanket shrouding the British countryside. A warm and heavy smell of cinnamon, nutmeg, and cocoa had enveloped nearly every inch of the house, and it became quite difficult for Jack Moffitt to focus on his work in the parlor as he wondered what Anah was baking. It could be anything from a quick bread to biscuits. Maybe muffins or cake. Regardless, it was a delightful, but very distracting smell. The quiet clicking of the typewriter stopped, and he stood from his desk and entered the kitchen to see the jet-black Egyptian cobra turning pages in a cooking magazine with her tail. The oven timer was ticking, and the faucet was running as Anah was filling the sink with hot, soapy water to clean the dishes and tools used in her latest creation.

"Might I ask what you're making?" Moffitt asked.

"Oh, a cake, dear," Anah replied. "Different recipe that I am trying from this." She gestured to the magazine.

"It smells heavenly. Making me a bit hungry, actually."

"Good. That means you will eat."

Bad choice of words. "Anah—"

"You are skin and bones, dear."

And here she goes… Moffitt shook his head, grinning and sighing, then returned to the parlor. Papers were strewn around his typewriter, as he was trying to put together an article for one of Cambridge University's journals on archeology. He wasn't someone who contributed very often, largely because he didn't feel he had much to say, but when the event was featuring expeditions of some of the university's most prolific professors, past and present, he was first in line to offer some stories about his father's work in North Africa. The hard part was choosing a favorite.

He kept writing until hearing the front door open, and got up to greet his wife, Vanora, as she entered the house with their dog, a lovely gray Siberian husky, Livna. A cold gust of wind blew in after them before Vanora got the door closed. "Hello, darling," Moffitt said.

"Hello, Jack." Vanora stood on her toes to kiss her husband.

Moffitt resisted an urge to flinch back when his wife's ice-cold skin touched his. "Your face is so cold, Vanora."

"Well, it's very cold out, love. What did you expect?"

"Good question. Hang up your coat and come warm up. I'll make a spot of tea for you." Moffitt crouched to greet Livna. "You love this weather, don't you? Yes, you do, you funny little ball of lint."

The husky began licking his face and trying to put her paws on his shoulders.

"Nope, get down, Livna. I'm sorry." Moffitt stood, his smile fading. "How was she for this walk?"

"Same as yesterday, and the day before," Vanora replied. "We came to the wooded area just west of the park overlooking the town, and she started barking."

"Did you see anything strange?"

"No. There was no one around. I find that to be equally odd, because there are usually people around. The last few days, there's been no one. It might be the weather, but not even one other person? Strange."

"Indeed." Moffitt rubbed his chin. "Livna's very well-behaved otherwise."

"Yes. I don't understand what's changed."

"To be honest, I'm not convinced this is a change with her. We've walked that route many times over the last year, and she never reacted like this. Suddenly something changes. Perhaps there's something in the woods that she senses."

"Perhaps, but can I say something?"

"Of course."

"I find it funny you're saying this when for years, you thought dogs weren't as intelligent as most people claimed."

Moffitt folded his arms over his chest. "I am well aware of that, darling. I'll stand by my words that one mangy stray in North Africa wasn't intelligent. I don't apply that to all dogs."

"At one point, you did."

"Yes. At one point."

Vanora smiled before poking her husband's nose.

"Oh, really?" Moffitt smirked.

"I love you, Jack."

"I love you, too, Vanora. Please—" He held out his arm. "Let me get you warm, my darling."

Livna whined while gently placing a paw on Moffitt's leg.

"What? Would you like attention?" Moffitt patted the dog's head, finding himself unsure of whether or not Livna's behavior on walks was something to be concerned about.

He didn't think much of it the rest of the day, preferring to spend that time cuddling with Vanora, trying Anah's new cake recipe, and having to tell his teenaged son, Jules, to not eat two large slices of it no matter how good it was.

It was late at night when Moffitt and Vanora were approaching the end of their bedtime routine, with Vanora watching the latest episode of Doctor Who and Moffitt trying to handle both Anah and Livna on his lap. He noticed Livna kept glancing toward the window, but she would always go back to nuzzling him and licking his face. When the television was turned off and Vanora went to sleep, Moffitt turned toward the window, listening. He could hear the wind, rustling the dry, brightly colored leaves of the hazel tree and the shrubs around the house. There were crows and ravens calling in the darkness, foxes barking, and owls hooting. Nothing sounded out of the ordinary. He began psychically probing the yard for snakes, only finding some common adders curled up in a burrow by the tree, as it was far too cold for them to be out. Moffitt severed his connection with him, and shifted to get comfortable. We'll figure this out.

That morning went like any other. Everyone was up and getting ready for work, while Jules, whose own schooling with Anah was pleasantly flexible, was outside taking care of the horses. After tea and breakfast, Moffitt and Vanora headed into Cambridge. Moffitt had a few things to work on in the archives, then took his midday break across the street in the department of zoology. Dr. Oliver Millington, who had been good friends with Moffitt for the last twenty-three years, was having his own tea and lunch while working on some papers in the back of the ophiology lab.

Naturally, a few of the residents of the lab became excited upon seeing Moffitt and gathered to the fronts of their tanks for attention. Moffitt paused by a tank holding an eight-foot-long black mamba, who was pressed up against the glass. "I know I have to take you out first, Mahlah, otherwise you start hitting the glass with your cage décor."

Mahlah climbed up Moffitt's right arm to wrap around his shoulders after being let out of his tank. "Is that why Millington has been putting more lighter things in my tank? Using the bunches of plastic flowers does not have the same effect."

"Yes. That's the point. It's so you can't break anything." Moffitt went into the back office, knocking on the door despite it being open. "Oliver?"

The older doctor jumped a little, nearly spilling his tea. "Jack. Good gracious, I didn't hear you come in."

"Sorry. Don't spill your tea, now, that would be dreadful."

Millington set his cup on the table. "Of course. Now, is there something I can do for you, or—" he gestured to Mahlah, "—do you already have what you need?"

"No, I do need to speak to you about something, about an animal, but it's not snakes."

"I'm not exactly an expert in anything that isn't a snake."

"What about dogs? Specifically, Siberian huskies?"

"Even that, I'm not entirely sure. You'd have to talk to my son-in-law. Why? Is everything alright with Livna?"

"I'm not sure. Over the last few days, every time my wife has taken her out for a walk, Livna has taken to barking at the woods by the park overlooking Cambridge."

"Animals can sense things that we can't. I wouldn't be surprised if there was something in the woods disturbing her."

"You don't think this is an issue on her end?"

"Well, have you ever had this happen before while walking her in this area?"

"No."

"Then I think it's worth investigating. Take Livna on her usual walk, and take Anah with you as well. She might be able to provide a clearer answer."

"Alright. I appreciate your thoughts anyway." Moffitt adjusted Mahlah around his shoulders when the mamba started nosing around his shirt collar. "You don't belong in there."

"You're welcome. Is there anything else you need? How is your article coming for the archeology journal?"

"Quite well, actually. I'm about halfway done. I'll let my father have a look at it first, then tidy it up so it'll be ready for publishing."

"Good. I wouldn't mind reading it myself. Have you been letting Jules drive more?"

"Of course I have. One small accident isn't going to make me want to take his driving license away. He's been far more responsible than most."

"That, and—" Millington lowered his voice, "If you don't mind me pointing this out, it's not like Jules has any friends to steer him in a bad direction."

Moffitt sighed and nodded. "You're quite right. He needs friends. Good friends. Hopefully, that'll change one day." He pulled Mahlah's head out of his shirt collar while continuing to talk with Millington. "Aren't you still hassling the financial boards about getting a grant for sea snakes?"

"As a matter of fact, that's what I'm working on right now. I'm looking over some studies sent from Australia to write up a detailed report on the needs of the various species I'm interesting in keeping here. In terms of other things, I have a fellow researcher down in Oxford who requested samples of western diamondback rattlesnake venom. I've set that in my schedule for three in the afternoon. You are welcome to help, but I can handle it with someone else if you are busy."

"Don't we still have Pepper?"

Millington sighed. "Yes. We still have Pepper."

"You'll need me, then. Better she bites me than anyone else." Moffitt grinned before holding up his right hand, revealing two healed puncture wounds on the back, just below his ring finger. "Still have the scars from last time we extracted venom from her."

"I'm still hoping she'll get used to the process, but I'm prepared to put the sign on her tank to remind us not to bother, and just keep her for standard research. We have more than enough western diamondbacks anyway."

"That we do. So, I suppose I'll see you in a couple of hours to help out with that."

"That would be appreciated."

Moffitt returned Mahlah to his tank and returned to his office in the archives to get more done before going back to the zoology department to help Millington. Pepper was a defensive western diamondback who was donated to Millington after a researcher at the lab she was born in had used a bad technique in extracting venom, resulting in the snake's right venom gland being ruptured. Millington ensured Pepper made a full recovery, and was presently working on introducing her to the process again. So far, it was a slow and nerve-wracking process, as Pepper's previous experience made her terrified and more likely to be aggressive.

All was quiet in the laboratory until Millington opened Pepper's tank. The viper recoiled in the back, rattling her tail. Moffitt crouched down to get on eye level with the nervous snake. "Hello, again, Pepper."

"What do you want?" the rattlesnake asked.

"We're taking you out to collect some venom. It won't take long."

Pepper put her head under one of her coils. "No. Please, don't."

"It'll be alright, I promise. We're not going to restrain your head." Moffitt showed her his hands. "I'm not wearing gloves. I won't squeeze you. I'm just going to take you out gently, alright?" He looked over his shoulder at Millington. "Step back, just in case she flies out." He put both arms in the tank, reaching to gently stroke Pepper's side. She pushed his hand away with her body and slithered over to the other side. Moffitt kept trying to reassure her. "This process doesn't have to be scary. It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you—"

Pepper struck out, briefly getting her fangs into Moffitt's left hand, then pulling away and hiding under her body again.

"Well, blast." Moffitt tasted something akin to metal from the snake's venom beginning to circulate through him as he took his arms out of the tank. Blood ran freely from two fresh puncture wounds on his left hand.

"She got you?" Millington said.

"Yes. It's alright, though. Just need a bandage and I'll be right as rain."

After closing Pepper's tank, Millington brought Moffitt into the back office to clean and dress his wound. "She was a little gentler than last time," Millington said. "I wonder if she's starting to get used to this."

"Possibly. I'm thinking we leave her out of extractions for a little while. Let her get used to handling in general." Moffitt held his arm as still as possible to let Millington wrap a bandage around his hand.

"I agree. I feel like I've been pushing her too much," Millington replied. "Poor thing."

"With time and patience, she'll be alright." Moffitt looked over his hand once Millington finished wrapping it.

"I can handle the rest of the snakes," Millington said. "You go on home and take it easy."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. I can get one of the interns to assist."

Moffitt sighed. "Oh, alright. I'll see you tomorrow, then. Have a good night."

There was about a half-hour until Moffitt had to collect Vanora from her office to go home. He spent that half-hour double-checking labels in his office. His hand was still sore and he was slightly warm and lethargic from the rattlesnake's venom working its way through him, having been rendered inert by the mysterious magic that had been present in Moffitt since birth, as stated in various prophecies. He told himself he probably shouldn't be using his injured hand, but kept using it out of habit.

The university gradually became quieter and quieter as people began packing away their things to head home for the night. Moffitt closed and locked the enormous shelves and racks holding the university's artifacts, and went into his office to close up his briefcase and put his coat on. Time to get his wife. He left the building and headed across the road to the institute for magical research, climbing a few flights of stairs before reaching a row of offices next to the second floor of the library. He arrived just in time to see Vanora leaving her office. She set her briefcase down to hug and kiss him, and he gently pulled her in for a much longer kiss.

"I missed you today," Moffitt whispered.

"You say that every time you come to get me," Vanora said.

"Because it's true, darling. I love you and I miss you when we're apart."

Vanora stood on her toes to kiss his cheek, and went to take his hand. She froze upon feeling the bandage. "What happened to your hand, love?"

"Oh. A rattlesnake bit me," Moffitt said, grinning.

Vanora let out a sigh. "You know, only you could say that so nonchalantly. Are you okay?"

"Of course I am."

"Is this the same one that bit you two weeks ago?"

"As a matter of fact, yes."

Vanora sighed, then took her husband's uninjured hand. "Alright, let's go home. I'll have to walk Livna if Jules didn't."

"Actually, I was thinking I'll walk Livna."

"If you're offering, I won't argue. Are you going to be taking her near the woods?"

"Yes, and I'll be taking Anah with me. Oliver suggested it to help us figure out what's causing Livna to go bonkers there."

"Even with your hand?"

"It'll be alright, darling. I'm just walking the dog. I've done harder things with worse injuries."

"Yes, Jack. Please, don't remind me."

Moffitt kissed the side of Vanora's head before they walked hand-in-hand down to the parking lot. The weather had been nice throughout the day, but dingy, gray clouds were beginning to encroach on the skies over Cambridge. Moffitt was still determined to take Livna out for a walk, both because it was part of their routine, and because he was curious to know what was driving her mad by the woods.

Anah wasn't too happy to be pulled away from making dinner, but reluctantly allowed Vanora to take over. She burrowed into Moffitt's scarf to keep warm, only keeping her head out as they headed outside to begin their walk. "Did you hurt yourself today?" Anah asked.

"Yes," Moffitt replied. "Pepper bit me. Again. We'll keep working with her, but we're going to take it slow." He crouched to check Livna's leash, and the husky turned to sniff his face, as well as his hand. Moffitt patted her head. "I'm alright. No one needs to worry their heads off about me. I'd prefer you didn't." He glanced at Anah. "Especially you."

"What?" Anah said.

"You. You love to fuss." Moffitt tapped the cobra's snout, then stood to start walking, with Livna trotting alongside him. At times, it was still strange to think that he wouldn't have been okay with walking a dog just over a year ago. Granted, he tried not to show his enthusiasm for Livna in front of visitors, even his own friends, as they would playfully tease him and remind him of the rants he would go on whenever the topic of dogs came up during the war. He hadn't started changing his mind until the previous summer, when he had to watch a husky named River, who belonged to Millington's daughter's family. The dog won, and so Moffitt found himself seriously contemplating adding one to the family. Of course, it didn't take long for word to spread to everyone else, and over the last year, he had yet to hear the end of it.

Livna adored everyone in the family, but Moffitt was her favorite. It had been suggested to him that it was likely because he was the one who showed up at the shelter and gave her a home. When not running around the yard, she would sit by Anah whenever she cooked, looking for a treat, or was acting as a "nurse," laying with whoever was sick and keeping them warm and comfortable. Moffitt found he was glad to find Livna sitting with Vanora and Jules whenever they were sick. She never jumped on them, only offering gentle nuzzles and nudges. He felt they were being well taken care of, which was not something he ever thought he would be attributing to a dog. She had so far been a good companion, a true member of the family. Moffitt hated to think of how upset Livna was getting at whatever was in the woods, so he was going to figure it out, no matter what.

The sky had grayed and darkened further as they continued on their walk. Moffitt wished he had worn gloves, as it had also gotten colder. His hand was still sore, and he knew the cold, dry air wouldn't do it any favors. As they drew nearer to the woods, just below a hill that offered a stunning view of Cambridge, Moffitt started to feel that it had become colder much quicker than usual. It wasn't a natural cold. His injured hand felt somewhat sorer, and the warmth of blood beginning to soak through the bandage made him wonder if he needed to turn back. He began psychically searching for snakes in the area, but was abruptly beset with a horrid, whining static. He felt unsteady on his feet, and a pulsing sensation in his head prompted him to slowly lower himself to the ground.

Livna whined while approaching him, sniffing him and seemingly offering herself as support.

Anah swiftly cut off the connection. "Something is interfering with magic in this area," she whispered.

Moffitt took a moment to breathe before standing up. "Any idea what it could be?"

"No, unfortunately."

They kept walking, pausing at the entrance of a walking trail through the woods. The greens of pines and firs and spruces mixed with the reds and oranges of the deciduous oaks, aspens, birches, and hazels were dark, almost black. What was normally a calm and lovely place to walk had somehow become uninviting. Moffitt noticed there were no birds singing. There weren't even crows or ravens around. He looked up when he heard the sound of a bird's beak clacking, and spotted the black and white form of a single Eurasian magpie. Moffitt's blood ran cold. "'One for sorrow…'"

The magpie looked at him. "Not in the way you might think."

Moffitt recognized the magpie's voice. It was Wintercress, the magpie who braved his power-mad brethren to alert Anah that Jules's prophecy was underway two years ago. The bird flew off when an icy breeze rustled the leaves. Anah raised herself from Moffitt's scarf, her hood spread. She faced the woods, hissing in low, even breaths. The strokes of her tongue were long and slow. Livna pulled on her leash, toward the entrance of the trail. Her hackles were raised and she was barking furiously, lips pulled back from her teeth. A chill shot down Moffitt's spine when he saw a huge, black shape barreling toward him from the woods.

Anah stopped hissing to shout, "Dear!"

Moffitt let go of Livna's leash to duck out of the way of what appeared to be a big, black wolf. Its eyes were blood-red and its teeth were brilliantly white. Moffitt narrowly avoided having those teeth snap shut around his hand. Anah lunged toward the animal, sheaths pulled back from her fangs. The wolf was quicker, shoving the cobra aside with a huge, clawed paw, before making a beeline for Moffitt as he scrambled to stand back up. It was unaware of the gray fury of Livna charging at it. The husky tackled it, swatting the wolf's face with her paw when it tried turning its head to bite her left foreleg. She wasn't nearly as strong, and soon found herself being pushed off. The wolf turned its attention to her, growling and showing her its teeth.

"Go on! Shoo!" Moffitt pressed his boot in the wolf's side and gave it a hard shove, then got between it and Livna. Anah had regained her wind and was some distance away from the wolf, slithering close with her mouth open in a threatening posture. The wolf went to lunge at her, only to be kicked by Moffitt. With a pained whimper, the wolf turned and dashed into the woods.

Silence fell over the park as the three stared at the woods. Moffitt looked himself over for injuries, and was relieved to have not acquired any new ones. "Anah? Are you alright?"

"Yes," Anah said, breathing hard.

Moffitt picked her up to let her crawl back into his scarf, then knelt by Livna. The husky was rattled by the events, whining anxiously with her ears down. "Let's get out of here," Moffitt said, picking up the dog's leash. He watched how she walked, glad he didn't see any limps or bleeding. They made haste with leaving the park, none of them looking back. Moffitt breathed a sigh of relief when the house was in sight, and even more relieved to see smoke coming from the chimney. A warm fire, along with a hot shower, sounded very good at the moment.

Hot food, and, more importantly, hot tea, also sounded wonderful. Moffitt could smell both as he entered the house. He took Livna's leash off before unbuttoning his coat and hanging it up. His heart was still pounding, and he was breathing heavily as he went into the kitchen to find his wife cutting slices from a roasted pork loin.

Vanora looked up from what she was doing. "Jack? What happened? Why do you look like—"

"I think we figured out what's bothering Livna by the woods," Moffitt interrupted. "Sorry."

"That's alright. What did you find?"

"This great, black wolf came running out, and tried attacking me first. It went after my hand, probably smelling the blood. It was no ordinary wolf, either. There was something magical about it."

"It disrupted all magic within a certain radius," Anah said. "Moffitt tried communicating with snakes, and it did not function properly. I stopped it before it gave him a seizure."

Vanora looked at her husband. "Are you alright?"

"Somehow," Moffitt replied. "I got out of the way before the wolf got me."

His wife returned to preparing dinner, looking deep in thought. "I'm not sure that was a wolf, not if it has magical properties like what you're describing."

"Then what was it?"

"Did it have red eyes?"

"Yes."

"I think it's the Black Shuck—what East Anglia calls the Black Dog, or Grim."

"Blimey, I haven't heard stories about the Black Shuck since I was in primary school. I wasn't even sure it was real."

"No, it's real, but it's quite mysterious. Many stories claim it's a sign of misfortune, a vicious demon, or, most strangely, a guardian. No one has ever captured concrete evidence of it, which is difficult because it looks like a regular dog."

"You'll have to tell Evelina about this, won't you?"

"I will. At least this explains why Livna has been acting strange near the woods." Vanora squeezed Moffitt's uninjured hand. "More importantly, at least you're alright."

Moffitt nodded, and pulled Vanora in for a hug. "Yes. I'm just glad this thing didn't attack you. I don't know what I'd do."

After ending the hug and heading into the bathroom to take a hot shower, Moffitt's mind was racing with fears and what-ifs. He contemplated telling Vanora not to walk in that area until they figured out what was going on and why the Black Shuck was there in the first place. He pondered having her take Anah if she was insistent on walking in that area. He also considered having her carry his old Webley revolver, but Vanora had no experience with guns and Moffitt wasn't sure she was even strong enough to handle the Webley's recoil if she needed to use it. That, and with so little information about the Black Shuck, Moffitt didn't know if it could even be wounded with bullets. He was able to kick it, so it had some physical form, but what were the limits of that physical form?

Moffitt took the bandage off his left hand. The back of his hand was covered in dried blood, as was the bandage itself. Any number of things could have happened to restart the bleeding, and he certainly didn't blame Millington for it. Since the Black Shuck went for his hand, Moffitt assumed that was what set it off. Somehow, he felt there was more to it than just a predatory animal thinking it found easy prey. This was no ordinary dog. There had to be something more.

When he got out of the shower, Moffitt's mind once again turned to worrying about Vanora. He nearly dismissed the idea of having Jules accompany her, until remembering that Jules still had the silver sword from the magpie prophecy. Even if the enchantments on the sword weren't useful, the fact that the sword was silver guaranteed that it could hurt the Black Shuck if it came too close. He could also have Troy come over. A pack of spectral jackals would be enough to deter anything. Maybe Dietrich had some mental trick up his sleeve to help.

For a moment, Moffitt was able to pause his frantic worrying. Vanora mentioned there were stories about the Black Shuck being helpful. Perhaps going after it wouldn't be a good idea. Then again, he was going to worry about his wife's safety until they learned more.

His worry made it difficult to eat, though he tried to in order to avoid Anah's wrath and rants about how thin he was. His hesitance didn't go unnoticed, as he looked up when Jules said, "You okay, Dad?"

"Me? Yes, I'm…" Moffitt sighed. "Honestly, no. I don't like the idea of anyone walking near those blasted woods with a demon dog roaming around."

"We can find a new path to walk until we figure out what's going on and how it'll be dealt with," Vanora said. "I'm as nervous as you are."

"Can I say something, though?"

"Of course."

"I… B-Believe me, I understand your curiosity and passion when it comes to all things magic. I would be tempted to explore ruins in North Africa even if they were riddled with hazards." Moffitt drew in a breath. "Please… Please don't go to those woods."

"I won't, Jack."

"Promise?"

"Yes, love. You don't have to worry about anything."

Moffitt looked at Jules. "That goes for you, too."

Jules raised an eyebrow. "I don't go in that area anyway when I ride Nightrunner. You know that."

"Still."

"And after everything with the magpies, I'm not going to be taking chances with something like the Black Shuck."

"I know, but—"

"What does Dietrich like to tell Troy, Dad?" Jules asked with a grin.

Moffitt sighed. "'Stop letting the monkeys run wild in your brain.'"

"Exactly. Although in your case, it's…" Jules paused to think. "Stop letting the snakes… slither madly in your brain."

"That was terrible."

"I know." Jules shrugged. "I tried."

"I have one better," Anah said.

"Let's hear it."

"Stop letting the tea kettle whistle too long."

"Ooh, I like that."

Moffitt gave them both a look. "I can't decide if I like that or not."

"Regardless, the point they're trying to make is that you're driving yourself mad, Jack," Vanora said. "We're going to be fine."

Moffitt nodded, but kept his thoughts to himself. I want to believe that.

He went to bed that night finding it difficult to sleep with his lingering anxiety. He looked at Vanora, unable to imagine what he would do if something terrible happened to her. I still have Jules to take care of. I have Anah and Livna. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to suppress an urge to cry. Would everyone's help be enough? What if something happens to me as well? Who did I name Jules's godparents? Dietrich. Right. He would be well taken care of. No, no, stop thinking about all this. Nothing bad is going to happen. I have faith that we're going to be alright. Moffitt rubbed his face, his hands starting to shake as he became increasingly aware of how loud and fast his heartbeat was.

The next thing he knew, something big and furry was lying next to him. Moffitt turned to see Livna getting in between him and Vanora. The husky rested her head on his chest, and closed her eyes when he started stroking her head. The reassurance was minor, but a small amount was better than nothing. Moffitt released his breath, then whispered, "Thanks."