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Chapter Forty-Two: A Forgotten History

_"I'm not sure if I will ever include these notes in the final draft of my book, or if I'll ever find a purpose for them at all despite the promise I made to my brother-in-law Ulric. After all, 'Predator seeking Prey' was never meant to be an in-depth historical treatise on the relationships between the Schottish and north wolves throughout the ages. The rather short historical entrees that I had chosen to include just a few chapters of my book were simply intended to give the reader a cursory knowledge of just how wolf-sheep relations came to be what they are today, and how those cultural and historical factors affected the development of the relationship between Vernon and myself. The book is meant to be about us, and the trials and tribulations we continue to endure because of our choice in mates. About the love that keeps us going in spite of the troubled history of our species, and the judgmental mammals of the modern day. It was meant to inspire couples who are going through the same struggle, regardless of their species, and hopefully give them strength in the knowledge that they are not alone. The last thing I want to do is take away from that message by making some sort of outrageous claims about famous historical figures within these pages. That is a job that is best left to a rag like the 'Zootopian Query'."

"However, after being presented with some rather compelling and intriguing 'evidence' in regard to the history of Moira Blackwool and Erik Düclaw that my brother-in-law had compiled, I felt compelled to write down some of the most interesting tidbits somewhere. If not to be published, then to at least get my own thoughts about what he showed me down on paper. At the very least it will help clear my head, and keep the information from creeping into later portions of the book."

As I briefly touched upon in one of my earlier chapters about the history of the Great North Wolves and the cultural traditions of the Northern Roaropean Lamb, there have been a number of what most would classify as 'conspiracy theories' in regard to the true nature of the relationship between Queen Moira Blackwool of Schottram, and her personal bodyguard, as well as ambassador of Greater Norwulff, Erik Düclaw. Although such a thing is far from uncommon, almost every major figure in Animalian history suffers from the same sort of endless postulation and intense scrutiny when it comes to what remains untold. The position of power or prominence combined with the limited nature of historical records depending on just how far back you go seems the perfect soil to nurture endless conjecture from mammals trying to fill in the gaps."_

_"It's only natural that such enigmatic and influential figures that existed long before ourselves would inspire those of us living today to seek out every shred of evidence as to what truly made them such powerful players in history. To make us hunger to know every detail about the mammals we could never truly meet. Never to see how they spoke or moved, and how they managed to capture the hearts and minds of those that followed them. Our perception limited to the intangible, wispy reflection of second or third hoofed accounts from mammals long dead in languages we still have problems fully understanding."

"It is as the great Pawstrian Philosopher Egon Friesell once said,"

"The past casts a curtain of fog over events and figures from times long ago, which makes them unclear but also more secretive and mysterious, this is the main allure with all history"

"And this is what drives many in the historical field; that thirst to discover the mysteries of those enigmatic ancient figures. To clear aside the fog and reconstruct the full picture of those great mammals that have been lost to time. Both as a means to explore just how they rose to become such prominent figures in history, but also as a means to connect the modern mammal to those long gone. To show that at a base level, even the greatest figures in Animalian history were still animals, just as you or I. At least, that's what I imagine, and I assume that's what drives most of those outside of the field to look for those connections as well, which all leads in to these conspiracy theories."

"I must confess, before speaking to Ulric, my initial considerations as to going about writing this chapter was to make it fairly brief. I had relegated any research on the topic to a last-minute entry, a light brush over some of the more popular theories and the evidence pertaining to the legend. Being a Bellwether, a direct descendant of the Blackwool line and Queen Moira herself, I went through most of my life hearing bits and pieces of the rumored tryst. Granted, it was never really anything concrete. Just the tail ends of conversations or murmurs from others. Before Vernon, the Blackwool-Düclaw conspiracy wasn't really something I gave that much thought to, and I was rarely ever asked about it as most mammals don't know enough about history to even make the Bellwether-Blackwool connection. So, it was never something I felt the need to research too deeply into, especially with the general public perception being that it was nothing more than a wildly baseless accusation. It was nothing more than 'edutainment' fodder, or the basis for some 'bodice-ripper' romance novel."

"But after I fell head over hooves for Vernon, and decided to write this book about just how such a relationship can happen, I sort of actively avoided any real research into whether there was any degree of tangible evidence to the accounts, or if it was simply all hearsay. One of the reasons for that was as I mentioned earlier in this chapter. This book is meant to be about Vernon and myself, and I don't want that overshadowed by making spurious claims."_

_"But the other reason was fear. Fear that I would have a strong desire to see myself in Lady Blackwool. To seek out connections that weren't actually present because my deeper desire had made them manifest, to share something in common with my ancestor and wonder if her struggles were at all similar to my own. Not to mention that the hopeless romantic in me has always loved a good story about star-crossed lovers, and even the hint of the existence of such a taboo romance would be something I knew I would most likely latch on to. I briefly mentioned as much in my chapter on the cultural beliefs of the Roaropean lamb. It was an obvious bias I was too afraid would spill into my assessment, and that desire to feel that connection to my great ancestor would cause me to gloss over any inconsistencies that failed to fit into my own burgeoning narrative."

"But after Ulric's little presentation, it seems to me that I'm not the only mammal guilty of such bias, albeit in the opposite direction. Historians, especially those who find the source of their funding based in Schottram or Norwulff seem rather keen on glossing over multiple inconsistencies in Queen Moira and Erik's lives, both before and during their time together. Strange changes in behavior and activity that at the very least should merit some degree of further investigation seem to be simply brushed aside in favor of simpler answers with even less hard evidence to back them up. Granted some of these little disturbances in the record of both mammal's lives are small, but others are so glaringly unusual that while I am willing to agree that they may not mean the two mammals were romantically involved, it certainly demands more of an investigation over what is currently accepted as fact."

"The information I am about to present will more or less be in a sort of chronological order, only straying as the topic permits. This is not organized by which pieces of evidence I found that make the most compelling case for the existence of such a taboo relationship between the pair or otherwise. In fact, I'm to try to avoid stating which pieces of evidence I feel the strongest about. Should this ever go out with the full copy of 'Predator seeking Prey', I would prefer that you, the reader take in all the information and decide for yourself. In that way, I am only presenting what is known, and how it correlates to specific cultural practices and historical events. I will not be making any actual 'claims', but I will be presenting concepts that might align with more sensible explanations for changes in behavior or otherwise. That way, I will be keeping this little aside strictly theoretical, and should this go out it will not overshadow the core message of the book. As for what you decide to take away from this, it is up to you."

"A great deal is known about the lives of Moira Blackwool of Schottram, and Erik Düclaw. From second hoof accounts, to paintings and so on, there is no shortage of information that can be gleaned and corroborated when it came to what was on public display. But even when it came to the figures lives behind closed doors, there was a wealth of information told straight from the sources. Or at least, it started out that way."_

_"When it came to Erik Düclaw and Moira Blackwool, it would seem both mammals were both strong believers in keeping a chronicle of their own lives. Both mammals had been known to keep personal journals, with Lady Blackwool starting her own personal diary almost as soon as she wed King Declan, and Erik starting his own series of journals during his teen years. (I should note I've mentioned the Queen's diary in previous chapters, but in order to keep this analytical presentation on track, I will revisit what I've previously stated at the end of the account for this evidence entry.)"

"Queen Moira was a fastidious and timely ewe, and most of her daily life and duties were structured with a great degree of regiment. This included her personal diary entries, of which she almost never missed a week, always managing to find some time to set aside in order to sit down and pen her thoughts to paper. As for Erik, his own personal journals started around his teen years. However, his entrees often lacked the same regularity that Moira's own entrees did. At most the wolf would write three entrees a month, and most were only prompted by dreams and Erik's need to catalog them due to the importance of such things in Norwulff culture. (We'll get back to that shortly)"

"I could spend time going over some of the more minute facets of the two mammal's individual writings. About how the Queen's playful and more romantic side often manifested in her diary entries in the form of prose and poetry. And that after marrying his Lordship, Declan Blackwool, she often lamented in her writings the lack of feeling any love for the ram she was betrothed to. Or the fact that several times in Erik's own writing did he describe recoiling at the prospect of taking on any semblance of royal duties, electing instead to take up the role as something of an explorer while his brothers were left to ascend to positions in the royal court. But as I mentioned earlier, some inconsistencies appear smaller than others, and such behaviors could easily be explained away with an appeal to maturity. Both mammals were quite young during most of their early writings, and as we all know from simple day to day experience mammals do indeed change over time. What the argument truly rests on, is just how sudden or drastic such changes can be."

"The death of King Declan Blackwool is what would mark such a drastic change in the normal routine of the two mammals writing habits. And while such a thing was to be expected of Moira Blackwool as Declan's wife, a notable and arguably coincidental disturbance occurred in Erik's own writings the very same night. The start of what would later be interpreted by Norwulff historians as a textbook example of a 'seer's' vision.

"As expected the Queen wrote of the loss the night she had first received word that the fleet had disappeared. Venting her frustration and anger over her husband's foolish errand, and how he had failed to listen to her. But what seemed to bother her most of all was the fact that Declan's death troubled her so little. She felt more guilty than heartbroken, simply due to the fact that she could not find it in herself to manage to shed a tear for her mate, and the father of her two young sons."

"I heard the words and yet I felt nothing. I couldn't even muster a single tear for my husband and his fool's errand. I had warned him after all. Time and time again I had begged of him not to proceed with his mad plan. I could see nothing but destruction at the end of his fevered dream, I could feel it within my very bones. And so, I am not truly shocked to hear what has become of him and his armada."

I find myself wrought with every emotion but heartbreak. Fear of what the loss of so many mammals means for our nation. What responsibilities I must now shoulder in the wake of Declan's actions, as our sons are not old enough to take the throne. But strangely, I also feel a sense of relief. He did not make it to the frozen shores of Norwulff. My husband had been prevented from plunging us into a war we had no chance of winning, and with his failure, the chance for peace is once again on the horizon. And, if I may be so bold, I feel as if I am freed from the cold touch of the mate I felt nothing for. A mammal I know now that I did not love, nor could ever love. And I find myself filled with a peculiar sense of hope that the abrupt winds of change I now find myself adrift upon shall lead me to something greater."

But such personal musings must never reach the ears of my people, lest they lose faith in the only mammal left to lead them. It fills me with a terrible uncertainty about the duties I must now undertake. A Queen who felt no love for her King, what kind of mammal does that make me? What kind of leader is one with no apparent depth of feeling for her own husband? Her own mate? Is that the leader Schottram deserves? I suppose neither I, nor my people have a choice in the matter anymore. The inextricable wheels of fate have been set in motion, and I cannot turn them back." - Moira Blackwool, January 22nd, 1345A.P.

"After that entry, Moira's writings became sporadic for a few months. But as you can tell by the overall tone of the passage, it was not due to the Queen's time spent in mourning. The lack of entries is consistent with Moira having to suddenly take on her husband's duties, as well as having to deal with the sudden economic crises the loss of most of the young, able-bodied rams of the nation had dropped into her lap. Despite being unable to truly stabilize the economic situation until a formal peace treaty was made with Norwulff, her writings did recover as she adapted to the new workload, and within about three months or so she was back on her usual schedule."

"Now this entry from the Queen's personal diary is nothing of any real note on its own. It is well known that Moira and Declan's marriage was not a happy one. Most royal couplings throughout Roarope were simply for political purposes, for the consolidation of powers or to solidify treaties and dealings between nations. If not for Moira's own writings on the subject of her husband, there are second hoof accounts from servants and guards about the many verbal spats between the woefully mismatched couple."

_

_"But the real reason I chose to write about this particular diary entry is due to the fact that it marks the first time Lady Blackwool and Erik Düclaw happened to write an entry in their personal records on the same night, and how they seem to inadvertently reflect the same themes."

"The same evening Moira received the news of her husband's demise, Erik wrote in his own journal about waking up in a cold sweat, amidst a strange dream. A dream so powerful the wolf felt compelled to write it down."

"The night sky was cold and clear, with Lupa's glorious gaze bathing the land in her welcoming glow. The black, frigid waters remaining so still that they cast a perfect reflection of Lupa's eye along with her twinkling companions on its icy surface. But then, from the horizon came a series of low hanging clouds that seemed to glide across the sea. Clouds of a brilliant white that carried with them a burning fire. They were slowly encroaching toward the shore, creeping like a thief in the night as they glided over the still waters of the black sea. The fire carried above the clouds swelled as they crept closer, rising higher and higher to the point where they had begun to consume the twinkling tapestry of sky.

But despite the intensity of the roaring flames, a sudden growing darkness soon overtook the scene. Lupa's watchful eye had blinked shut, disappearing behind a thick set of dark swirling clouds that stood in contrast to the ones that carried the flame. They grew to quickly overtake the spreading fires, to envelope the white clouds within their frigid embrace. The dark clouds carrying with them the scent of a brewing storm. It didn't take long for the seas to turn violent, whipped into a frenzy by the now howling winds lapping at the once smooth surface. A gale that seemed to be howling for war.

The once calm black seas morphed into a cluster of blackened blades, stabbing into the burning white clouds, gutting them one by one as they were tossed about like mere playthings. One by one the clouds were devoured by the hungry maw of the black waters until not one remained. They sank like stones despite their appearance, the burning flames they carried snuffed out by the dark, frozen waves that had dragged them under. With the clouds now gone, and the light they carried extinguished, I saw ice begin to form upon the surface of the water. A narrow strip of frost that would extend far beyond the horizon. Somewhere I could not see, yet felt compelled to venture.

Now that I'm awake it feels as though something has changed. As I pen this down I can't help but feel a sudden weight of apprehension building in my chest. That dream felt so vivid, so real, and I fear that my grandmother's tales of her seer's visions have started to get to me. I feel as though I've seen something I wasn't prepared to see. Perhaps my grandmother was right, perhaps Lupa does indeed intercede within the realm of mortal mammals." - Erik Düclaw January 22nd, 1345A.P._

_"The idea of 'visions' and prophecy is something that is hotly debated in academic circles, mostly related to the validity of such accounts and their relationship to actual historical events. The consensus on prophecy when it comes to most historians is simply that anything one could consider 'prophetic' is merely coincidental, and when it comes to the murky descriptors and imagery that one would associate with a 'vision', it is even less conclusive. So-called 'prophetic visions' tend to be a rather malleable entity, the imagery vague enough to allow for any dramatic event to be warped and twisted into lining up with the symbols taken from such accounts. Essentially, if one were to try hard enough, any supposed 'prediction' could be made to apply to any historical event with the right amount of mental gymnastics."

"However, historians who specialize in the history of Norwulff, or those who fall under the general faiths that have spread outward from the land generally take the concept of 'seer's visions' with a bit more reverence and historical weight. And many of them have tirelessly devoted themselves to specializing in the interpretation of such accounts. And while there are many interpretations among them when it comes to other 'visions' written about in the Norwulff texts, there seems to be a general agreement among the community when it comes to Erik's rather unique dreams. And_

_many have gone so far as to outline just how well Erik's dream lines up with the failed attack by Schottram, and are rather adamant that there is no other historical event that it could have been describing."

"The consensus when it comes to interpreting the imagery is thus. The clouds that carried fire represented Blackwool's fleet, the clouds themselves representative of sheep, and the fire representing the flames of war. The next bit is pretty on the nose. The dark clouds and the swirling seas that swallowed the burning clouds representing the storm that ultimately claimed the fleet. As for the ice bridge, well, that's something we will have to revisit slightly later in this chapter as it only makes sense in the context of the next vision. At least, that is what Norwulff's historians would argue. And to be honest, I find myself hard-pressed to disagree with that assessment."

"Unless the event Erik had dreamed of has yet to occur, or was simply a nothing more than the background noise of a dream, Declan's sunken fleet seems to be the only historical event the supposed 'vision' could be describing. The interpretations are not far-reaching in terms of symbolism, and in that way, it seems to perfectly describe exactly the fate that befell Declan's rams with chilling accuracy."_

"After all, we know from historical records that the Norwulff populace, even King Geir and the other members of the Düclaw royals had been completely unaware of the failed attack until considerably later in the peace negotiations with Schottram. This would leave Erik to be the only wolf among them that seemed to be aware of what had truly taken place just days after it had occurred. There was no one to tell him what had happened, no mammal to seed such imagery into his unconscious and create the dream. It simply manifested from nowhere, on the same night Moira had learned of it."

_"But for whatever reason, perhaps skepticism in the fact that it was a dream, an apparent doubt in the power of the 'seer's' in Norwulff culture, or perhaps the knowledge of the fact that whatever attempt that had been made to attack their nation had been swiftly dealt with, Erik never shared his apparent vision outside of his personal writings."

"As I said before, I am not here to make claims, simply to present facts. But with this, and the entry I am about to go into, I would be hard-pressed not to argue that perhaps there is something more to the Northern Wolves and their deep mysticism in regard to their 'seer's'. After all, it is hard to interpret Erik's account as anything short of prophetic. And while the Queen's journal entry was spurred by hearing back that the fleet had sunk, Erik's had come from seemingly nothing. A strange vision that drove him to write an entry on the same night as Moira, over the same subject, but it gets considerably stranger."

"After this, Erik's writings mostly returned to normal, much as Moira's had. It almost seemed like the wolf had completely brushed the strange dream aside as nothing more than that. In fact, both Moira and Erik's writings carried on as normal for most of that year as the nations slowly built toward coming to a peace agreement. By the end of the year, Lady Blackwool had already agreed to meet with an ambassador from the Düclaw family in order to draft up a proper treaty, and King Gier had already chosen his son Sigurd for the position by October of that year. After all, it was Sigurd whose role in the royal court pertained to that of the Norwulff military, and it seemed the natural choice to partake in negotiations with the Queen of the nation's once sworn enemy. But it was told in several of the personal accounts of those around him that he lacked the finesse and intelligence to handle such a sensitive task. He was immature in the mind, and hungry for an excuse to go to seeking honor and glory in war and victory, and while Queen Caecilia Düclaw had expressed uncertainty to her husband in sending the wolf for the negotiations, there was no one else in the family willing to take up the position of ambassador."

"But once again, it would seem the same strange 'wheels of fate' as Moira had mentioned in her writings would strike just three weeks before Sigurd was set to depart for Schottram. Another dream would take hold of Erik Düclaw, one that would shake him to his very core."_

_"Obviously this is the more famous journal entry, and I had briefly touched upon it in my initial notes without going into any real detail. The dream that made Erik beseech his father to stand in Sigurd's place, and meet Queen Blackwool as the ambassador in his stead. And this is the gist of what you would get out of a history book, both one that is for general purposes as well as those strictly based on Norwulff's history. However, Erik's actual entry is quite a bit more detailed, and may, in fact, allude to more than just a meeting of nations depending upon the translations."

"Like before, Erik awoke in the middle of the night in an apparent cold sweat, and immediately took to his journal to write down what he experienced."_

_"I thought I was to be forever rid of that feeling, the apprehension of knowing what I feel I am not ready to know. I was sure it left me in favor of a wolf more willing to heed the call, a true seer as devout in their beliefs as my grandmother. Yet here I sit in my bedchamber, soaked to the bone once again as I feverishly try to recall my experience.

It was the same scene as before. The black sea and icy shore illuminated by Lupa's glimmering gaze. Once again, the icy bridge appeared, crossing the frozen waters of Norwulff and splitting the sheet of glass that made up the ocean in twain. Its sheer presence stirring that same deep desire within to simply follow it blindly over the horizon. That irresistible beckoning call that I had felt once before. But now there was more to the land around it than I had previously seen.

Where the shimmering bridge connected to the land, there stood two large mountains. One stood slightly taller than the other, the craggy peak of it split into shards of rock that were reminiscent of a crown. While the smaller mountain's peak featured gouges in the summit that reminded me of eyes. From these 'eyes' poured two trickling rivers, endlessly flowing down into the sea.

And between the mountains stood clusters of flame. They were not simply one great mass, but a series distinct fires, the colors of which ranged wildly across each one that served to further distinguish them from one another. But among the several unique flames, one towered above the others. Its brilliant red hue stealing the light of the others as it stood before the bridge. Slowly the fire began to cross the icy path, growing more and more intense as it journeyed toward the unknown realm beyond the horizon.

I could see the ice strain, I could feel it struggle to withstand the growing intensity of the fire. But ultimately the bridge faltered, withering under the brilliant red flame. And just like that, both the bridge and the fire were consumed by the icy black sea. The light extinguished in a flash, and with it, a sharper cold swept over the land. A chill that extinguished the remaining flames that flanked the shore, and caused the tallest mountain to topple to the earth, leaving nothing behind save for the smaller of the pair. The mountain that seemed to cry, whose rivers now flooded violently from the holes at its peak. The water ultimately whittling and wearing the mountain to little more than fragments as Lupa closed her brilliant eye, and the land fell into darkness.

And as quickly as the scene had left me, another took its place. All was as it was before. The bridge, the peaks, the children of flame. I felt as though I was to bear witness to the same scene once again. Yet suddenly I felt myself among them, among the brilliant flames that surrounded the mouth of the icy path. A pillar of ice taking the place of the brilliant red flame that now stood behind it. It felt as though I was one with the object, as if we were one and the same. And as I, or the glacier stared out upon the horizon, I was filled with the same need I had felt when I had dreamed of the bridge before. An irresistible desire to venture across the beckoning bridge, to discover what lay beyond the horizon.

And soon the glacier was crossing the glittering bridge, leaving behind the mountains, the flames, and the icy land and venturing toward the unknown. The bridge remained firm and steady beneath the gliding mass of ice, supporting it easily as it journeyed to the beckoning horizon. Never buckling, never withering as it had under the brilliant red flame that had tried to cross before. It continued onward, the icy home of the glacier fading away behind as I felt myself drawn closer and closer to the destination ahead. Drawn to an unseen call from something beyond my mortal senses.

Soon, from the seemingly endless horizon came a black spire, illuminated by Lupa's glow. It rose from the sea, splitting the night sky. It filled me with a sense of intimidation as it grew defiantly on the horizon, drawing the drab green land up from the sea along with it.

As the glacier approached, I became aware of just how decayed the great spire seemed to be. It was crumbling, teetering on the brink of collapse as the pillar of ice arrived at the pale green shores. Its decrepit presence dissipating every ounce of intimidation that It had seemed to command earlier as the glacier arrived at the end of the bridge. But rather than stopping at the shore, the icy mountain began to rise into the air. Drawing closer and closer to the withered tower as I felt myself drawn into its startlingly warm embrace. There was no collision, no crumbling of the two forms, but rather, the icy pillar came to rest beside the tower. The form of the glacier supporting the tower, keeping it from tumbling to the earth.

Now fixed against the tower, I watched as the land suddenly came to life. The pale, washy hues exploding into blindingly bright emerald greens. The grass, the trees, the flowers, it all came to explode with life, and as it did, it began to crawl up the conjoined masses. The growth mending them, melding them, creating something bigger, something better than either of the objects could have on their own. Soon it grew impossible to distinguish where the tower began and the glacier ended, and through it all I felt myself filled with a warmth that I had never felt before. A heat and lightness that I felt as though I could not live without as the two forms became one. A brilliant palace of stone and ice, distinctly split but fused to one another. Presiding over a blooming land of endless green._

_I find myself unsure as to what to make of this... dream? Vision? I am not truly sure. I'm am certain my grandmother would call it nothing short of a true seer's blessing, but I had always found myself rather dubious of her claims that such things actually exist. Still, what I felt in that powerfully vivid sleep. That all-encompassing and welcoming warmth that surrounded me. I know deep within my very soul that I would kill for even the briefest chance to taste it once again.

But for now I must set these curious thoughts aside and return to sleep. I will need to be awake and alert in time for our family meeting. While I detest these royal affairs, it would be a great slight to my parents to be absent for the discussion of the matter of the envoy to Schottram with the rest of my brothers." - Erik Düclaw November 5th, 1345A.P.

"As you can see, there is quite a bit to unpack in the full journal entry of Erik Düclaw's 'Prophetic dream'. But for the sake of brevity, I will note the passages that seem to have the most straightforward interpretations. At least, according to Norwulff historians."

"The ice bridge makes a return in this dream, and this is where the purpose of it seems to make the most sense. As we can tell by the nature of the passage as a whole, the ice bridge connects Norwulff to Schottram. The fields of green meeting the icy shores and so on. In the context of the dream, it represents a literal connection, but it also seems to represent the tenuous relationship between the two nations. The weak, fragile ties between the two that even the slightest offense or misstep could completely jeopardize."

"This is where the symbolism of the red flame comes in, as well as the general concept behind all the flames seen in the dream. The most agreed upon theory among Norwulff scholars is that the 'brilliant' red flame represents Sigurd, the war-hardened son looking for a fight, as well as the initial choice for the ambassador to Schottram. The red represented his headstrong, battle-hungry nature. And admittedly it makes the most sense in the context. The other flames represent the numerous children of King Gier, hence the different colors to distinguish each one. Perhaps it had to do with denoting their personal traits, or maybe it was simply a way to distinguish them for the purposes of the dream, but the fact that they are all made of flame representing that regardless of which is chosen to cross the bridge, it will ultimately fail. No matter which flame crossed, the bridge would melt away, and plunge Norwulff into the darkness of war."

"The icy pillar, or glacier is clearly representative of Erik himself. Of course, it doesn't take the expert knowledge of the Norwulff historians to piece that together. Erik makes several allusions to this fact during his retelling, the excerpt 'It felt as though I was one with the object, as if we were one and the same. And as I, or the glacier stared out upon the horizon, I was filled with the same need I had felt in when I had dreamed of the bridge before.' in particular eliminates any doubt that this is the case."

_

_"Some say Erik is represented by the glacier simply because it represented the opposite to fire, akin to the coldness of the bridge itself and unable to melt it. While others go on to add that it also could be argued to represent Erik's cool and stoic demeanor that is mentioned in the last few entries of Queen Moira's journals before they came to an abrupt end."

"But the important point to take from it all was simply that Erik being represented by an iceberg made him the only suitable 'object' capable of crossing the bridge without utterly destroying it. A key element pointed to by historians and Norwulff symbolism buffs as being comparable to the sum of Erik's entire life's work under Moira. He was the only one among the Düclaw who would not only uphold the tenuous relationship between the two nations, but drastically strengthen them."

"Then there is, of course, one of the strongest symbols from the dream; the great black spire that split the sky, the crumbling relic sitting on the pale green shores of what we can easily assume is Schottram. Schottram itself is famous for its striking greenery that many would argue is unparalleled by anywhere else in all of Animalia. But more damningly, 'Blackwool Keep', which was famous not only its unusual black masonry, but the massive tower that loomed over the bulk of the castle, still sits on the western shores of Scottram to this day. While in ruins today, kept active by way of being a tourist destination, in the days of Declan and Moira it served as their home. The same home that Erik would soon find himself living within just mere weeks after his 'vision'. The description of which could be considered one to one in terms of the real-life counterpart."

"Keep in mind that Erik would have no knowledge of the look of the Blackwool home. Aside from largely staying out of the family politics, Erik had only ever ventured within the borders of Greater Norwulff. But somehow his dream seemed to accurately portray the general concept of the Blackwool keep to him. This particular passage alone is what many more seasoned Norwulff historians, including professors currently teaching the discipline in academic circles, will cite as an example of the validity of 'seer's visions' as a reliable historical account of some events."

"But now we come to something where there is a bit of an argument, and where the scholars separate from the theorists in terms of interpreting the important aspects of the dream. Namely, the portion of the text describing how the ice pillar came to support the crumbling tower, as well as the pair fusing into a fortress of ice and black stone as the land bloomed with renewed life. Going back to general historians, as well as experts in Schottish history, it is no secret that the 'Ram-Wolf pact of 1346' was instrumental in keeping the nation of Schottram from collapsing back into a series of fiefdoms."_

"Despite how hard the Queen worked to keep her country stable after the death of her husband, without the injection of wolf migrants, as well as the goods and services they would provide in the absence of the ram workforce that had been lost, it is estimate the nation would have only made it another six months beyond the date the pact was signed. Norwulff offered Schottram the ability to remain autonomous while the nations traded aid. Whereas other nations such as Kingland had been eyeing the lower sections of Schottram, hoping to swoop in and claim land once the nation crumbled. There are internal logs from the Kittish Royals that support this plan."

_"Without Norwulff to prop the nation back up, most of Schottram would have been forced to turn to Kingland for protection and goods. And what Kingland did not absorb would have fractured into their own micronations."

"From the vision, Norwulff historians connect the state of the tower, and the ice pillar holding it aloft to keep it from crumbling as being representative of that. And the blooming green from that meeting of powers represents how the nation would prove to prosper in the wake of this union of nations. And that analysis is all well and good, but where it drifts into the area of debate is with some of the meatier portions of the passage. Namely the glacier and castle merging into one entity, distinct yet united, as well as the feeling of warmth that Erik would claim to be willing to 'kill' to experience again."

"Norwulff scholars will say it is a simple representation of the greater picture. The unification of the ice and the tower representing the cooperation between nations, and showing that with Norwulff's help Schottram would be able to re-solidify itself as formidable international power. But the warmth is the part that seems to elude a proper explanation, the prospect of Erik being unable to tell where the tower began and the frosty pillar ended. The best answer provided being that the feeling that was instilled within the wolf had to do with the pride he would feel to unite the nations. A sense of destiny and the acceptance of the role he was meant to play in the Animalian political scene. But skeptics and theorists are quick to point out, and rightfully so, that Erik hated royal life, and the duties pertaining to it, as well as going on to say that the language used is a bit too 'passionate' to describe simple 'pride."

"Among communities like Ulric's, the belief is that these passages refer to the intimate relationship that awaited the wolf. Much like Erik in the dream was represented by a pillar of ice, the black spire is presumed to be a representation of Moira. And what started out as Erik simply supporting the Queen by way of the iceberg holding the tower together, grew into something deeper and more meaningful. And as it did, the two objects fused into one, filling the wolf with a deep sense of warmth and lightness that many would argue was a manifestation of love. A taste of the fulfilling relationship he would find should he take his brother's place, and a more likely drive for his interest in taking up the mantle of ambassador rather than the wolf suffering a change of heart over royal politics."_

"It is also frequently pointed out that in the days of old Norwulff, using a phrase like 'becoming one' was generally reserved for conversations regarding tithing ceremonies, but considering the context of the events of the dream, that might be considered grasping at straws. "

_"Needless to say, these interpretations have been filed away as wishful thinking by those looking for proof where it 'does not exist' according to authorities on the subject. To those seeking attention and fame by crafting elaborate scandals. One of the more common statements issued by even Norwulff experts is that 'visions are never meant to be interpreted literally', and in the case of Erik's dream, thinking that the two forms fusing in the dream as representations of Moira and Erik's personal relationship was simply thinking too small. But it is worth mentioning that a great deal of Erik's vision seems to revolve around him personally. His family, his siblings, himself, they are all represented in the dream. But suddenly this is discounted when he crosses into Schottram? Why does it suddenly become less valid just because of a change of scenery?"

"One last thing I'd like to cover before I move away from the journals entirely is what remains of Queen Moira's journal entries after Erik's arrival. Now as I mentioned earlier, both Moira and Erik appeared to have stopped keeping journals after the wolf arrived in Schottram. In Erik's case, this was an immediate hard stop, the wolf simply seemed to stop keeping a personal log as soon as he arrived at the Schottish shores. The only journals that we have from Erik are those in the possession of the Greater Norwulff historical society. However, Moira managed to keep up her writing for a least a few months after he had arrived. The entries tapering off in regularity as the general peace accord was hashed out and signed, and coming to a complete stop a few months after taking on the ambassador as a personal bodyguard. For the sake of brevity, I will only be including excerpts of the journal entries I feel are the most relevant to the topic at hoof."

"What's interesting to note over the several entries between those two periods was how the Queen's language and description evolved when writing about Erik specifically. Her first entry describing his presence in little more than two sentences, and in a fairly clinical manner."

"The ambassador from Norwulff arrived today, complete with an entourage of no less than eight Norwulff guards surrounding him, clad in what I can only assume is the Norwulff noble garb which appears more like some sort of battle regalia. I am already having doubts about these negotiations." - Moira Blackwool, December 4th, 1345A.P."

"However, as the entries progress, she began to devote more time talking about the wolf. Her attitude in regard to the young wolf envoy changing rather quickly."_

"At first, I believed I had gotten exactly what I had feared, an arrogant, headstrong young wolf clad in pompous looking battle regalia and eager to start a war with my flock over the most minute perceived slight. But to my surprise, as I've grown to know him, I realize I couldn't have been farther from the truth with my initial assessment.

_As it turns out, Erik is as soft natured as the wool I wear. A surprisingly caring mammal, who is indeed genuinely concerned for myself and my citizens above his own needs. And apparently as uncomfortable sporting the 'Official Norwulff Garb" as its appearance on him first made me feel. I shall have to do him a kindness and have something tailored to suit him more comfortably. Something that properly becomes someone of his intelligence and station." - Moira Blackwool, January 10th, 1345A.P."

"Then there is this interesting excerpt from the evening the treaty was officially signed by the pair, toasting the successful collaboration and lamenting the prospect of the wolf returning to his homeland."

"With the treaty signed, I can finally breath a sigh of relief knowing that Schottram will endure. Granted I know some of my flock aren't thrilled of with the idea working with wolves, but in time they will come to accept their presence among us as they see how well our nation thrives with their assistance.

But for now, I will revel in the celebration, or at least try to. The feast that was served afterward was quite the fitting meal for such a momentous occasion. And while there were many nobles and other mammals who wished to seek an audience with me, I found myself spending most of my evening with Erik. After all, the treaty was a victory for both of us, besides, I really can't get enough of his rather charming wit. Even now as I pen this entry, I still find myself snickering at the thought of his spot-on impression of the rather 'bloated faced' caprid bishop who attended the ceremonies. I have always loathed that mammal.

Sadly, in the wake of this joy, I feel a strange pang of sorrow. Erik will soon depart for Greater Norwulff, and I must admit it will be rather hard to see him go. I could scarcely have conceived considering a wolf a friend four months ago, yet here I sit, rather sad to see him leave. Perhaps there is something I can do to extend his time here in Schottram. Surely it may sound greedy to steal such an important mammal's time, but I must admit, I find Erik to be the only mammal I can talk to as myself. And the prospect of losing such a dear friend is quite hard to bear. Maybe I can find something else to add to the negotiations." - Moira Blackwool, April 14th, 1345A.P."

"It is obvious that by the time the treaty was signed, Moira and Erik had grown quite close. But what many conspirators find to be the smoking gun is this excerpt from the last of the Blackwool diaries, at least the very last that we are aware of."_

_"Erik often laments that despite being my bodyguard, he really has little to do other than keep me company. With Blackwool keep as secure as it is, there really is little risk of any danger befalling me within the castle walls. I, of course, was quick to tease him, doing my best to act as if I were offended and insinuating that he found it bothersome to conversate with me. I must admit it was rather funny to watch the 'fearsome' Norwulff warrior squirm as he protested the notion, claiming that our little talks were the highlight of his day. It was rather touching.

And the wolf did get a chance to prove himself despite his complaining, for without his swiftness I would have surely tumbled down the castle steps this morning after I tripped over a loose stone. I had barely even lurched forward before I found myself swept into his arms with the softest grace. I was only in his embrace for the briefest of moments, and yet I felt a strange....desire to linger. For all that is said about the softness of a sheep's wool, Erik's fur feels as soft as a fine silk. But that is not to say I was not acutely aware of the strong, firm form that lied beneath. It was...really...rather pleasant.. and I find myself struggling to describe it, or how it made me feel...

Perhaps I'm thinking about this a bit too deeply. A little time on the balcony might do me some good. At the very least the fresh air will serve well to clear my head from these rather...curious thoughts...Is it-" - Moira Blackwool, May 25th, 1345A.P."

"If there is more to that entry, then it has been lost to time. Because as far as we know, both in the academic community and the general public, this is where Moira's journals ended. She never wrote another log, not a single page. Of course, if there were any more journals or diaries that had been kept during their years together, at this point the only mammals who could conceivably know of the whereabouts of such documents would be the Schottram historical society, or maybe even the Schottish government. And of course, that comes with a whole mess of its own rather conflicting reports. Some saying that the government does indeed have more journals and refuses to release them, while other reports saying the government has denied the existence of such journals. The information is ultimately muddled as there seems to be nothing official on the matter. Ulric's own presentations were the supposed personal accounts of rams who had apparently worked in the royal archives, but the Schottram government has remained silent on the matter."

"Still, it seems rather unlikely that Erik or Moira would stop keeping a personal record of their lives. Especially Moira, as her diary was kept on a weekly basis with little to no changes since she had started keeping it. The same goes for her sons, Declan II and Roderick, who kept their own journals that abruptly stopped, aside from a few key released excerpts I mentioned previously when they each came into power."_

_"It just seems to me that there is a mystery there that needs clearing up, and those in Schottram who preside over the royal artifacts, government or otherwise would do well to at least say something official on the matter outside of the historians they may or may not have funded. Even so, I doubt whatever answer they would offer would do little to sate mammals like my brother in-law. And at this point, I wonder if any answer they could provide would even sway my judgment on the matter."

"But let us move on to the next topic which Ulric brought to my attention, and arguably one of the strangest pieces of this puzzle overall. With the journals out of the way, I feel the next strongest point of contention to explore is the works of art depicting Lady Blackwool and Erik Düclaw."

"Artwork of the pair is not exactly hard to miss even if you aren't searching within the realm of ancient mysteries and conspiracies. I know during my initial assessment I saw several, including one of the more famous paintings, 'The signing of the Ram-Wolf pact of 1346'." The painting was by one Leon McCallhoofer, as will be the rest of the paintings I cite in this section. The reason for this was the fact that Leon was the official artist commissioned by the Blackwool family during Moira's reign, and so any picture depicting Moira Blackwool and those around her was guaranteed to be his work."

"I'm sure most of you readers have seen it in your history books, as even those unfamiliar with the deeper history of Roaropean sheep and Northern wolves usual lycome across it in most of the standard Animalian History books in grade school. The importance of the event cannot be understated, as it was the first lasting cross-species treaty, and so it seems only fitting that most mammals would get a cursory look into that particular part of history."

"The painting itself depicts both Moira Blackwool and Erik Düclaw signing the document within what is assumed to be her negotiation room, as it appears to lack the presence of any visible royal guards. But aside from that, at first glance, nothing seems that out of the ordinary. It seems like a fairly standard painting, depicted in the popular style of the time. One that wouldn't be out of place set alongside various other paintings from the period currently hanging in the Houvre in Maris, Prance. And indeed, that was how I had always seen it. Just one of history's most famous works of art, coupled with the added little sliver of personal pride in knowing that the ewe in the painting was directly related to me. However, Ulric made me aware of a rather interesting anomaly in the painting that I had never noticed before."

"Upon closer inspection of the piece, both Lady Blackwool and Erik Düclaw seem to be wearing gloves, or rather a single glove. For Queen Moira, her writing hoof bears a fine black glove, designed to match her usual royal attire right down to the diamond-studded fringes dotting it like stars amidst the night sky."

_

_"And in the case of Erik, his left paw is covered by a slightly rougher looking white glove with a similar gold banding to that of the rest of his royal attire. It is a strange sight, to say the least, and when it comes to cultural practices of either the northern wolves or the Schottish sheep there are no instances of any ceremony or holiday that requires the wearing of a single glove at a time."

"And what surprised me even more was the fact that this was not the last picture that had been painted of either mammal wearing one glove on alternating paws. Since the signing of the 'Wolf-Ram Pact', there have been several more paintings of the pair, some together, some separate, but in every painting, they continue to wear a single glove. Granted some of the elements change within each depiction, the gloves suited to match whatever mode of dress they were wearing the day the portrait was taken. But regardless, the gloves remained a consistent element in every single painting of the mammals. Moira, always on her right hoof, and Erik always on his left paw."_

_"The most glaring example of this is on display in McCallhoofer's 'Vision of Peace', which depicts the pair holding hands while standing outside of Blackwool Keep. Based on the angle historians presume it was created with the pair facing toward the sea, out toward Erik's homeland. Erik stands to the right of the Queen, his gloved left hand holding her own gloved right hoof as they stare off toward the artist, and presumably the horizon."

"Now some historians say that despite everything that Lady Blackwool said about trusting wolves, taking Erik on as her personal bodyguard, and living so close to him, she still was hesitant to actually touch the wolf. This is the official explanation for the intended purpose of glove, to keep the ewe from ever fully making contact with the wolf. But it does a poor job of explaining the need for the just the one of them, and even a worse job at explaining away the fact that even in separate depictions of them, each still wore the one glove despite the fact that they shouldn't have needed to. Let alone the picture painted by Moira's journals alone completely blow the idea that she was repulsed by the wolf's touch out of the water. The language utilized seems to if anything, evoke a strong fondness in regard to physical contact with Erik. But it is usually explained away with a simple 'she was going to fall, neither mammal had a choice. An excuse I find to be rather poor."

"So what are the alternative explanations for the mismatched gloves? Well, this is where we once again find ourselves delving back into the realm of internet sleuths and conspirators. With Ulric having already done the digging for me, he presented me with the most popular conclusion among the various communities. The belief that Lady Blackwool and Lord Düclaw had in fact, participated in a tithing ceremony, and the gloves are meant to hide the very obvious scar that would have been created during the ancient form of the rite. The fact that the gloves are on alternating hands give even more credibility to the idea, as alternating scars were ideal to allow the tithing couple to more easily press the wounds together and allow their blood to mix with one another while the cuts were fresh."

"Of course, like the other pieces of 'evidence', this idea is scoffed at by scholars, and I suppose rightfully so. This was the thirteen-hundreds after all. I'm sure I don't have to remind you if you've made it this far along in my book (Not sure if this is going to go in, or where, so keep that in mind if the need arises, remember to revise this statement.) you know that interspecies relationships, especially those between predator and prey are a deep social taboo. A forbidden relationship, scorned by the public at large. And I live in Zootopia, the most progressive city in all of Animalia"_

_"So, try to imagine what trying to have such a relationship was like seven-hundred years ago. With the 'Ram-Wolf Pact' just instated, and both sides still so wary and looking for reasons to hate one another. Back when religious beliefs and superstition held sway over most mammals, and lifestyles that threatened those deeply held beliefs could result in the accused be roasted at the spit. Even with both Erik and Moira being mammals of royalty, getting caught participating in such a relationship would at the very least see both of them most likely locked in separate towers for the rest of their lives, as was the custom for 'bad eggs' in most royal families, at least in Schottram. And as I explained earlier, tithing required the permission of the highest-ranking blood relative among the Düclaw pack, which of course would be King Geir. And while I imagine that the King was rather 'accepting' for the time period, considering his work to create and solidify the peace pact, I would think most would find the prospect of an old-world King agreeing to something that so defied the natural order under his name to be patently ridiculous."

"But, is it at all possible? Well those who speculate as to the true nature of the gloves, my brother-in-law among them, have compiled what they believe to be a wealth of supplementary evidence to support the claim, most of which revolves around the few correspondences between King Geir and Erik over the two-year period since he first arrived in Schottram, As well as some third-party accounts of clashes between the mammals during Erik's return visits. Once again, I will only supply the relevant excerpts to try to keep this section as streamlined as possible."

"According to the historical record, what little of Erik's mailings to his father that have been released reveal a rather interesting shift in the tone of his writing. The first four or so months spent at 'Blackwool Keep' sees the wolf's usual, arguably more amicable writing style, Erik spending more of the letter concerned with the well being of his siblings and parents than discussing the negotiations in Schottram."_

"Dear Father, I hope this letter finds you well. I am in good health and spirits, although I find it hard not to be in this land of warmth and greens. Although I must admit I find myself already feeling somewhat homesick. I miss you and mother, as well as my brothers. Yes, even Sigurd, although I'm sure he is still burned up about my taking his place in these negotiations. Queen Blackwool seems a little cold, but I suppose that's to be expected considering. I will be keeping you all in my heart and mind as I sleep, as well as during these negotiations. I know what my success will mean for our people, let alone our family. -Your faithful son, Erik Düclaw - December 15th, 1345 A.P"

_"However, his letters take a more clinical turn after his first return to Norwulff, along with Moira's request to take the wolf on as her personal bodyguard. Accounts from the personal logs of the Düclaw castle staff make mention of several arguments taking place between the King and his son over the prospect of him living in Schottram, but nothing concrete, more so the general theme of the arguments overheard as the echoed to nearby rooms. King Geir was against the idea, and remained reluctant despite the wolf returning to Schottram a week later. But it appears there was something more to the tone of their conversation that hadn't been properly picked up on, or perhaps a few arguments that hadn't been overheard if the change in language in Erik's correspondences are anything to go on."

"King Geir, Lady Blackwool wishes to re-negotiate the trade good taxation prices in regard to fine metal imports. Enclosed is her missive request for review. Send mother my love. -Ambassador Düclaw - May 13th, 1346 A.P"

"As you can see, the difference is practically night and day, and the state of_

_the correspondence between father and son seemed to take an even further nosedive after Erik returned to Norwulff along with Queen Blackwool as a show of goodwill between nations. Again, this visit is rife with second hoof accounts of even more bitter arguments between Geir and Erik behind the scenes. But the one I feel is most relevant is this particular entry from one of the Castle pawmaidens."

"After Erik had curiously requested everyone, even the royal honor guard to remove themselves from the chamber, and King Geir acquiesced to his rather bizarre request. It sounded as if the two were at each others throat, as if they were well and prepared to draw swords on one another if the tone was anything to go by. But alas, the castle walls reduced the words to muffled yelling and snarls. It was impossible to tell exactly what topic had gotten the pair so incised at one another. It was only when Erik burst from the chamber with a clatter, yelling back at his father defiantly.

_

_"What does a name matter if it is to control my life so brutishly? Such a name is not worth having!"

At that the wolf turned to notice me, flashing a scowl as I drew back from the wall. I am ashamed to admit I had a paw cupped to the cold stone. But Erik simply sighed, turning away and leaving me to scurry back to my duties." -Bodil Bergsnärl - July 24th, 1346 A.P_

_"After this visit, Erik seems to completely cut off contact with his father. I suppose I don't have to tell you why that is a bad thing considering his status as the nation's ambassador. But as far as the historical records show, at least what has been released with permission by the Norwulff government, the correspondence between the two simply ended. This 'cold war' between father and son persisted for almost four months, with no letters sent from either side until finally, King Geir seemed to reach his breaking point. Whatever argument that had so fractured their relationship, King Geir seemed ready to apologize, and make good for whatever trouble he had apparently caused Erik with the following letter.

"My dear son Erik, What sort of ruler is a mammal who cannot admit he is at fault? What kind of father is one that would deny his son, who had so willingly devoted himself to the cause of his family and nation, one of the most fundamental desires that no mammal that draws a breath should be exempt from? I was a fool Erik, A fool who has forgotten what it was like to be young. I was so concerned with the politics involved that I simply refused to listen to what you were saying. But I intend to make this right, consequences be damned.

I am not sure how we will make this process work. Something like this has never been done before, but as long as both parties are still willing, I will begin to make the proper arrangements. I will expect you to arrive the week before December twenty-first, that should give you more than enough time to prepare yourselves for the proceedings on our most holy of nights. May Lupa, Oldwyn and Freyja watch over you, and may they look upon these proceedings favorably.

And if anything should go wrong my son, know that you will always have your home here to come back to. I will do everything in my power to keep those who object from having any sway over your choices.

-With love, Geir Düclaw- November 24th, 1346 A.P. "_

"Now of course, exactly what disagreement and whatever 'arrangements' were being made for the night of the solstice is a hotly debated argument between historians and theorists. Again, scholars pose the idea that Erik was growing tired of being entrusted political duties, and in the case of the name issue, was willing to throw his name away in order to be free from his pack. I should mention this practice is completely unheard of in North Wolf circles, and Norwulff history experts conclude it was probably more figurative rather than the wolf actually taking part of what is largely a Native Wolf only practice. A race of wolves, I might add, that the North wolves wouldn't come into contact with for some time to come. But what is really striking is the bizarrely, almost conspiratorial hoop jumping the experts themselves go through to make sense of the described 'proceedings."

_"As you can already guess, both Erik and Moira returned to Greater Norwulff for yet another 'goodwill' visit just in time for the Yule holiday. Which of course, lines up perfectly with whatever King Geir was describing. But historians again scoff, saying the intent of the proceedings Geir was talking about was passing Erik's duties on to one of his other sons. The idea was that Erik would stay in Schottram to keep up appearances, but be free of the initial political aspect of his job. Instead, Queen Blackwool would correspond directly with one of the other Düclaw males via letter. I feel I don't need to point out why this was a significantly harder arrangement to uphold than having an ambassador actually show up to negotiate terms. But even more preposterously, there is no hard proof of this. Yet historians and experts cling to this idea as if it was a solid, indisputable fact. and when faced with the fact that they have nothing to show for this hypothesis, the general response is that the theory is less wildly speculative than the alternative, and that they would rather rely on 'occram's razor' when it comes to the likeliness of historical events. But still, it seems rather hypocritical of those who demand hard evidence to go public claiming that their own theory is simple fact."

"In the interest of remaining transparent, I will tell you that after all of this I've written here, there is nothing I could find that tells of when the gloves truly first appeared. Just as with Erik's mysterious 'proceedings on that cold December night, I don't have conclusive evidence of when they began to wear the gloves, or why. But It is worth noting that the painting of the 'Wolf-Ram Pact' was commissioned some two years after the actual signing, depicting a mere mock-up of the actual event. Well after the possible 'tithing' that may have taken place in Norwulff. And I would honestly be hard pressed to find an alternative answer that filled the gaps so neatly.

"The gloves make perfect sense, as if the couple had elected to get a tithing ceremony, both would be aware of how important it would be to keep any proof of such a union a secret. If it were to become public knowledge that the Queen had become smitten with a wolf, it could have threatened all the good done by the peace pact between the previously warring nations. Geir's arguments and subsequent fight with Erik may further allude to such a threat, the King being well aware and unwilling to risk the peace of the two nations over his son's desires."_

"To the Schottish citizens, such an affair would make it seem as though the Queen had simply been acting out of lust, and that the crime against nature she had chosen to commit had clouded her judgment when it came to the mammals of Norwulff as a whole. And while I imagine that not all the sheep of Schottram were wise to the cultural practices of their neighbors in Norwulff, the risk of just one learning the truth and spreading it like wildfire was simply one risk too many."

_"There are some errant comments about the gloves in the private accounts of the Blackwool Castle staff, as well as those working at the Blackwool Royal Estate after the Queen turned the throne over to Declan the second, which only helped add to the plausibility of these gloves being worn at all times when it came to public appearances. But the entrees are too few and far between to be able to make a much of a compelling case. Much in the same way the accounts of Erik's stray howling, some reportedly emanating from the Queen's bedchambers are too few and far between and lack the proper nuance to disseminate them from any howling standard. So, the only thing that can be used to make any feasible case for the 'tithing' argument is the complete painted works of Leon McCallhoofer. And much like the other missing diaries and documents, the ram never kept a personal account when it came to the details behind his paintings. And so, all we are left to go on is the works themselves. All nine paintings from the first, commemorating the signing of the peace pact, to his last, commemorating the death of both Erik and Lady Blackwool, which brings us to our next topic."

"In March of 1386 A.P. Erik Düclaw was stricken with an upper respiratory illness, and despite the efforts of the Queen's hoofmaidens and the best medical care in all of Schottram, the wolf eventually succumbed to the illness after weeks of suffering through it. He was fifty-eight at the time of his death, which was arguably a long life for mammals back in those days, but still, that hadn't apparently made it any easier to bear for Lady Blackwool. During the course of his infection, she had refused to leave his bedside despite the warnings and fears of spreading the infection by the estate staff. She even reportedly slept alongside the wolf in order to tend to his needs as second hoof accounts describe her as becoming increasingly incised that the staff was not doing enough for the ailing wolf. And while the Queen did not catch the virus, she was unable to stop the wolf from ultimately passing away. She only had the good fortune of being present when the wolf peaceably passed in the night, leaving her to alert the staff of his untimely death."

"Erik's death was a national tragedy, both in Schottram and in Norwulff, as his efforts in securing the 'Ram-Wolf Pact' made him a hero among the population of both nations. But ultimately, when it came to the funeral, and the wolf's burial, it was requested by the Düclaw family that Erik's body be interred at the family crypt in the capital city of Ulefalle in Greater Norwulff. The people of Schottram would have to settle for a simple monument to the wolf, despite him having lived the majority of his life among them. Of course, that didn't stop Lady Blackwool from throwing a funeral of her own for the wolf who had spent the bulk of his life by her side. On the day his body was to be loaded on a ship to return to the Düclaw family, the Queen held a memorial service at the dock so that her people could see the wolf off properly." "There is a significant amount of documentation surrounding witness accounts of the ceremony, and what was said. Many of which devote an abnormally large description to the Queen's appearance during the proceedings. Words like 'crestfallen', 'sullen' and 'despondent' show up across many of the written accounts. And one even referred to Lady Blackwool as appearing to be 'heartbroken'."

"But despite her clearly corroborated appearance, by all accounts she gave a very powerful and stoic speech about everything Erik had done for her people, and thanking the wolf for his years of service protecting her, as well as his loyal companionship over the years. It was only after she concluded her speech was she reported to have broken into tears, something she had, in her own words taken from some of her previous diaries entrees, been unable to do for the loss of her husband Declan."

"After the ceremony, Lady Blackwool accompanied the body of Erik Düclaw on the voyage back to his native land of Norwulff, where she would attend the Düclaw's private ceremony. Of course, her personal staff was staunchly against the idea. The Queen had yet to elect an official replacement for Erik as her bodyguard, and even so demanded to be allowed to attend the funeral without any of her royal entourage intruding on such an intimate affair. And as they always did, her staff inevitably backed down when faced with the Queen's powerfully stubborn and tenacious spirit. Even in her old age, the Queen refused to lay down and die for any mammal, or at least, almost any mammal."

"The Queen came back a very different mammal after her month spent in the frigid cold north of the city of Ulefalle. While not visibly ill, the Queen's apparent despondent and sullen demeanor had only steepened since her trip. That last glimmer inside the ewe that had been seen when she argued for the freedom to travel to Norwulff alone seemed to be long gone, leaving a frail husk of a ewe who seemed significantly older than when she had left."

"Over the next two months, her condition only seemed to worsen as the staff did everything they could to pull her out of her apparent depression. She spoke less and less, electing to stay in her bed most days and her appetite rapidly diminished. Even in her son's, King Roderick, own journal, he described his own attempts to bring his mother out of her dire straits had met with complete and utter failure. Near the end he had come to describe her as ' a mammal already bereft of life, simply awaiting death to come and finish the job'. She seemed to just waste away, and it wasn't long before Roderick's words rang true."

"Just shy of three months after Erik's death, Moira followed after at the age of fifty-seven, passing peaceably in her sleep. To this day the reasons as to why she ultimately perished are unknown, and her passing left the doctors at the time who had been trying desperately to treat her completely baffled. It was as if she had simply willed herself to die, and no amount of work could be done to pull her back from the brink."

"But where this truly becomes interesting is just after Queen Moira's burial. Like Erik, the funeral held for the Queen was massive. Mammals had come from all over Schottram to honor her memory, as well as many of the Düclaw pack members from Norwulff, including the current King, Magnus Düclaw, Erik's youngest brother."_

_"It had taken the wolves a week to arrive, and the Queen's body had been held until their arrival in order to allow the family to honor her, but aside from that little caveat, the ceremony went forward as one would expect. King Roderick spoke of the virtues and leadership his mother had embodied, and how the nation of Schottram owed Lady Blackwool to live on, to continue to embody the ideals set forward by her memory. To embrace what she started, and by doing so it would most assuredly lead them to prosperity and continued peace. King Magnus also spoke, talking highly of the Queen's tireless work to bridge the gap between the two species, and how to him, and his family she would always be a Düclaw as well as a Blackwool. That she had earned her place as a wolf, as part of their family. Needless to say, that comment sparked quite a bit of a buzz among the Schottish citizenry, and many believe Magnus' statement may have been the catalyst for the rumors about Moira and Erik that persist to this day. It was definitely enough to spark the start of said rumors among the Schotts, but what was to come would only further stoke those suspicions."

"The Queen's body was placed in her own, specially constructed crypt that acted as a monument to her memory. It was separate from the family crypt, but still within the family cemetery. And that is where she remains to this day, or so it is thought."

"You see, the crypt was sealed shortly after the ceremony. But a week later, the groundskeeper found himself discharged from his duties by the King himself. According to his personal account, as the hour grew late, and the moon began to rise, the King approached him accompanied by two of his royal guards. But what made it that much more curious was the fact that King Magnus, as well as an entourage of Norwulff soldiers, had accompanied him. The groundskeeper's journals say that the King mentioned he was concerned over reports that there had been attempts to defile Moira's grave. When the groundskeeper offered to inspect it with him, the King denied him. And when he questioned the presence of Magnus and his wolves, Roderick said they were accompanying him to make sure that all the proper traditions were being upheld. But it was the grave keeper's insistence in aiding the King, and his overall confusion that saw Roderick take ire with him, eventually instructing his soldiers to throw the old ram out of the cemetery, the King issuing a firm warning before leaving him at the gate."

"This lamb I had known since he sat upon Moira's knee, the gentlest of the two sons Moira had birthed, yet he was filled with a coldness I had never seen in him. An ire that burned through me as his guards tossed me out of my place of work as if I were nothing more than a common thug. But it was the words that truly struck me dumb, words I could scarcely conceive to leave that rams lips in my direction."_

_'My guards will be posted at this gate until sunrise. Should anyone try to cross the threshold of this gate before then, they are instructed to kill them on sight.'

• Excerpt from the writings of Colin Cruickshank, June 28th, 1386 A.P."_

_"When he was able to safely return, the two Kings and his soldiers were long gone. But in their absence, they had left a tomb that was visibly more firmly sealed than before. Multiple stone slabs now tightly fixed in place where there had previously only been a single, and the dirt in front of the monument had been disturbed, as if the original covering had been dragged away at some point before the new stones were placed. Of course, he was an older ram, so most of his account of the strange incident was brushed aside as the ramblings of some grizzled old tup, looking for notoriety by adding to the rumors that were already circulating."

"Coincidently, that night would also be the same evening when King Magnus and his wolves would return to Norwulff. Records of the ship manifest show that the royal flagship actually left at midnight, which was something that was considered relatively abnormal for the time period. Most ships, cargo or otherwise would leave in the morning, to allow the sailors to work with the most amount of light for the longest possible time in order to properly chart the vessel. Even if the Düclaw pack was leaving under full moonlight, it still would be considerably more dangerous than leaving in the morning. These were facts the sea-faring wolves surely knew quite well, yet they still elected to leave during the night. As if it were necessary to leave as soon as possible, despite the fact that they were visiting a country they were on friendly terms with, and the home country was not under any duress."

"One more thing noted on the royal manifest is a list of carried cargo, logged by the rams who loaded the ship. And while most of the description of said logged goods is fairly standard fare for ship travel during the period, one rather unique entry has raised numerous eyebrows among the conspiracy theorists since its discovery. It was a fine black chest, large enough to fit an average sized ram, wrapped tightly in fine black linens that were soaked in a thick perfume. The contents were unlisted, which was a rare occurrence with freight, and while the manifest had been written by the rams present, the chest was only permitted to be handled and loaded by Magnus' own soldiers. Any lingering curiosity by the shiphooves working the dock was met with similar threats by Magnus and his wolves with death should they inquire further. Furthermore, it was among the ships notes that Roderick had permitted Magnus to use force 'if deemed necessary' when it came to shipping inquiries, signed with his official seal.

"It is also worth noting that it was the last piece of cargo to be loaded upon the Düclaw royal flagship, arriving at the dock mere minutes before the ship departed from port, bound for the frozen shores of Norwulff."_

_"Following the return of the Düclaw family to their homeland, the shrouded chest was, according to accounts by the castle staff, moved to the inner sanctum of the Düclaw family crypt. Once moved to that location it was put under twenty-four-hour guard for the next two days. During that time, any questions asked by the castle staff about the mysterious chest to the King, or the members of his court were ultimately met with similar threats to those of the rams at the dock and the groundskeeper. And such threats were quick to put an end to any lingering curiosity about the peculiar item the royals seemed so keen to protect almost immediately, at least out loud anyway. And the personal records of the royal court made no mention of the box, or its contents."

"Two days after arriving in the family crypt, the chest seems to disappear completely from the historical record. The only inkling to its ultimate fate being from the accounts of a few wolves walking near the royal graveyard on the night it slipped out of history. It would be these passers-by that would write of seeing lights similar to those that were lit during a royal funerary service. But of course, most of these accounts are seen by historians as unreliable."

"There are many theories around the mysterious chest that was transferred into the Norwulff royals paw's by King Roderick himself. I mean, the ships manifest proves it did in fact exist, so that much we do have on record. However, theories as to what is was range from some sort of treasure given over by Roderick to prevent the wolves from invading now that Queen Moira was gone, to an item left explicitly to the Düclaw royals by Queen Blackwool herself as part of her will. But in keeping with the theme I will be discussing the most popular theory, the idea that it was Lady Blackwool's body that had been taken overseas in order to be interred alongside her mate, Erik Düclaw"

"It is documented that Magnus' stay at Blackwool Keep before he left at midnight was a noisy affair. Many accounts by the hoofmaiden's and castle staff speak of muffled arguments between the two kings, the pair spending most of the week following Queen Moira's funeral in heated debates in the negotiation room over topics that were not privy to any other mammals save for Magnus and Roderick themselves. It is unsure what the two seemed to be fighting over so aggressively, but we do have a snippet from one of Roderick's guards who had been posted outside of the negotiation hall during a particularly loud disagreement."

"Oh such a clamor I have never heard, a war of words that I couldn't make out, but the tone sounded as if they were being thrown with the sting of a blade. Suddenly the din reached a zenith, and as it did, the chamber door I stood astride flew open wildly. Out came the icy white furred King of the wolves, stomping with ire as he strode out of the room. He was growling so deeply I could feel myself trembling within my armor as it penetrated my flesh. The primal fear nearly causing me to collapse as the King of ice and fire spun on his heels to face the room again. Baring his fangs, he snarled loudly._

_"I will march all of Norwulff through this door if you refuse to submit!"

• Excerpt from the writings of Neil McGrazier, June 25th, 1386 A.P."

"And this is the basis historians use to explain the strange circumstances around both King Magnus' visit to Schottram, and the mysterious chest. The historical record has always painted Roderick as one of Schottram's weaker leaders, of course, it would be hard for any lamb to follow up Moira's legacy. But that said, this perceived weakness is what scholars point to as the source of the mysterious turn of events involving King Magnus. With Moira gone, it is believed that the true intent of Magnus' visit was to renegotiate the terms of the "Ram-Wolf Pact" further in the favor of Norwulves, and this was the source of the argument. Whatever was in the chest, was some sort of payment to keep fealty to the nation of Norwulff, and the secrecy was to keep the King from appearing weaker to his citizens."

"But then there is the issue of Magnus and Roderick's night at the graveyard, one that still has the scholar's struggling to explain the purpose of it."

"But conspiracy theorists believe that the arguments were about the exhumation of Moria's body, and turning it over to King Magnus so that she could be buried along with her mate in Norwulff. Following along with this line of reasoning, we are going with the premise that Roderick was well aware of Lady Blackwool's relationship with Erik. Although for how long is entirely uncertain. It is believed that in Moira Blackwool's will, (again, yet another document that seems to have gone missing over the ages, and was only ever read by Roderick himself at the time,) she had left explicit instructions to be buried alongside Erik Düclaw. This was not only her desire, but is directly in line with Norwulff cultural tenets in regard to tithing rites. If this was the case it would have left the King in a rather difficult position."

"To Norwulves, tithing rites are some of the most respected, and culturally important traditions to uphold. And the case of Düclaw royalty, who were devout upholders of the Norwulff mysticism, it could be seen as an act of war to interfere with upholding the laws of a tithe. If Moira was indeed tithed to Erik, Norwulff law would demand that she would need to be buried along with her mate, and as Erik's grave was in Norwulff, that would require moving Moira's body to the Düclaw crypt in Norwulff's capital. Of course, all of this would have to be done under secrecy, lest the Schottish public be made aware of Moira's indiscretions. Her body would have to be exhumed during the night, and quickly spirited off to King Magnus' ship. But with the tomb empty, should anyone ever discover the Queen's body missing, it would not only put Roderick at risk of being blamed, but if Norwulff was proven to be involved, the Schotts would be clamoring for war."_

_"It would better explain why King Magnus and the Norwulff royals spent a week in Schottram after the funeral despite there being little reason to. If it had to do with renegotiations of the pact, Magnus could easily have sent a new ambassador rather than show up himself. But he chose to spend a week there personally, and spent most of the time arguing over 'something'. Something he was willing to go to war over if he didn't get. And so, a series of events have been pieced together based on the fragmented information we have to work with."

"Presumably after finally getting Roderick to agree to his demands after days of negotiations, the two drafted up a plan that they quickly put into action. It is believed that hours before the Düclaw royal ship left port, King Magnus and his soldiers accompanied Roderick and his rams to the royal graveyard. Once the groundskeeper was dealt with, the Queen's body was exhumed and placed into one of the king's wolf-sized chests. However, since the body of the Queen was something to be revered, steps still had to be taken in order to properly honor her remains. This lead to the wrapping of the chest in the shroud and dousing it in perfume. The perfume also helping to mask the scent of decay the box would be sure to give off. Afterward, they hastened back to port with the Queen's body in tow."

"The chest was the only parcel loaded on the Düclaw royal flagship by wolf soldiers, a practice that is usually reserved for funerals. It is worth mentioning that Erik's own casket was loaded the same way. However, the argument is that since it was a public funeral of sorts, it had to be handled that way. Still, the threat of death that loomed over the dockhooves by way of both Roderick and Magnus' orders added an extra layer of protection. While it may have stoked some curiosity, it prevented any rams from getting too close to the chest during the transfer.

"With the final piece of cargo loaded, the Düclaw's left immediately. Assumedly this was not only to get the body back to the crypt as fast as they could, but also to prevent anything from stopping them from getting to their destination should any mammals had caught wise."

"The next day, the groundskeeper returns to his duties and finds the tomb sealed even more tightly than before, and with evidence that the initial seal had been disturbed during his absence."

"Meanwhile, upon the return to Norwulff, King Magnus arranged a private funeral service to take place. Something limited strictly to the members of the royal family to keep the affair as discreet as possible. Still, the chest had to be guarded until the services could be rendered, and so the curious questions of the castle staff were unavoidable. But much like King Roderick, much of the curious murmurs were easily shut down with threats of being crammed into a crypt of their own."

"That night when the chest officially dropped off the face of Animalia, the container was brought into the bowels of the family crypt by Magnus and his family. The body of the Queen removed and placed in Erik's coffin with the deceased wolf. The empty chest was left in Erik's chamber, and that portion of the crypt was permanently sealed."

"This at least would explain why that section of the family crypt remains sealed to this day. And the remaining Düclaw royals still refuse access to anyone looking to study or explore the sacred halls of the sealed portions of the crypt. The same goes for Moira's own tomb. The hastily sealed monument remaining inaccessible to any and all mammals by order of the Blackwool royal court."

"Naturally this theory, while stringing together a lot of the strange, broken and mysterious fragments of the events following Lady Blackwool's death, is quite far-fetched. Much of what has been filled in here is all hearsay, constructed by a series of conspiracy theorists in order to make the most sensible picture pertaining to the events of those few days, and the mystery surrounding them. Of course, the simplest answer is that Moira's body is where Schottram officials say it is, buried in her tomb which has remained undisturbed for centuries. And while I think the ultimate answer is somewhat more complicated than that, I can't help but feel that perhaps the story Ulric told me is making far too many assumptions to fully embrace."

"Of course there were even more dramatic claims made by my prospective brother in-law in regard to Lady Blackwool and Erik Düclaw. Ones I am uncertain as to whether or not I'm even willing to entertain despite how convincing some of his other claims were. Most specifically the purpose of the large tower that had been built at the Blackwool Royal Estate shortly after the Queen's retirement. He had brought it up when going over the mysterious chest that Lady Blackwool was allegedly transported in after her death, mentioning that it hadn't been the first time the Düclaw royals had done such a thing. It seems that shortly after the fire at the royal estate, a similar chest was shipped to Norwulff, this one accompanied by Erik himself. Allegedly, it was supposed to contain the charred remains of..."_

"No, no..." Dawn muttered to herself, shaking her head dismissively. "That's far too outlandish. Impossible."

"What is?" That had come from Vernon, the wolf still pulling his arm through the sleeve of his green flannel nightshirt as he glanced back at the petite ewe curiously.

Dawn let out a sigh, pressing a hoof to her temple as she skimmed over the last few sentences once again. "It's just something..."

"Patently ridiculous." The ewe completed the sentence in her mind. Dawn rolled her eyes as she began to rapidly tap the backspace key.

"It's not important." The ewe muttered, pawing at her tired eyes as she watched the last paragraph of her draft unwrite itself. "I think I might have spent a little too much time listening to your brother."

Vernon let out a soft chuckle as he finished buttoning up his shirt, taking a moment to lamely brush at the wrinkles with a paw as he eyed the ewe curled up on the rustic style grey comforter.

"Can't be that bad." Vernon replied, taking a moment to stretch his arms out above his head. Dawn watched a slight shudder travel through the wolf's body as he began to yawn, his muzzle splitting open wide to reveal rows of pointed teeth as he arched his back into a much deeper stretch. It was a sight that would have terrified most prey mammals, but Dawn had long since grown into finding it amusing. So much so that the ewe had to do her best to stifle the urge to giggle as she watched the wolf's yawn play itself out. The tip of his tongue curling as his yawn shifted into an adorable quiet whine before his muzzle snapped shut.

"Looks like the 'big bad wolf' is sleepy." Dawn said with a smirk.

Vernon rolled his eyes. "Yep..." The wolf smirked. "I could use some sheep to count."

Dawn could see a familiar flash of something in the wolf's eyes. A mischievous twinkle as he made his way over to the bedside, just enough of a hint to warn her of what was coming. She had barely managed to brace her laptop with her hooves before the wolf simply threw himself onto the mattress next to her as if he were dead weight. Dawn let out a startled bleat as the sudden impact sent her a good foot into the air before coming back down with an unceremonious plop.

Taking a moment to adjust her now skewed frames, the ewe turned to glare at her mate. Dawn puffed her cheeks in irritation, letting out an annoyed huff, but the wolf didn't seem to notice. Vernon's eyes were already fixed on the monitor, his irises darting back and forth as he skimmed her draft.

"Doesn't seem that bad to me..." Vernon uttered, daintily tapping at the sheep-sized trackpad with his pinky finger in order to scroll the document along.

The ewe's irritated expression dissipated as she let out a sigh.

"You think so?" Dawn replied.

Vernon glanced back at his mate, quirking an eyebrow.

"I mean, I can definitely pick up on Ulric's influence..." Vernon trailed off, pulling at the fur on his chin softly as he mulled over his words. "But unlike his writin', yer's comes off much more...clear and..." The wolf tapped his chin. "Intelligent."

The wolf glanced back at the screen, scrolling through a few more pages as he continued to skim the half hour's worth of effort Dawn's intensive efforts.

"I mean, I can understand what yer sayin', so that's definitely one up on ol' Ully." Vernon added.

"Ugh..." Dawn shook her head. " You think I'm crazy, don't you?" The ewe whined. "For even considerin-?"

"Nah, I don't think yer crazy." Vernon chuckled, reaching a paw out and gingerly rubbing the ewe's cheek. " I mean the way y'all have presented it seems plausible."

"I might not even put it in the final draft." Dawn continued, tapping her hooves together nervously. "Even if I do, it's going to be with heavy revisions. I mean I never intended our book to be about something like this, but after Ulric showed me the evidence I just had to put it to paper to get it off of my mind. And-"

"Hey, hey..." Vernon cooed, caressing her cheek with his thumb. " Ain't nobody got a gun to yer head." The wolf chuckled. "If y'all don't want to put in in the book, I ain't gonna stop ya."

Dawn clasped the wolf's paw against her cheek, giving it a small squeeze.

"Well, I sort of promised I would include this in the book." Dawn murmured.

Vernon shook his head, a bemused smirk crossing his muzzle.

"Why would y'all do that?" Vernon asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Dawn flashed the wolf a small, nervous smile.

"Well...Ulric said he wouldn't believe I was serious about you unless I was willing to go public with the 'truth' about Moira and Erik's tryst." Dawn chuckled. "As if I knew anything more about it than he did."

Vernon smirked. "Serious about me?" The wolf repeated.

Dawn shrugged slightly. "I don't know. I mean..." Dawn lolled her head slightly as she struggled to find the words. "He wanted to make sure my intentions were pure."

The wolf let out a loud laugh, clasping a paw over his eyes in sheer disbelief.

"'Pure intentions?'" Vernon snickered. "Darlin' this ain't Moira Blackwool's time. Nobody talks like that anymore. There ain't no mammal's that need their 'purity' protected."

Vernon drew his paw back, placing it to his chin and tapping it gently with his forefinger. "Although maybe I'm wrong, I mean y'all did sorta soil mine purty thoroughly." The wolf flashed her a mischievous grin.

"Vernon!" Dawn snickered, giving the wolf a playful push with both hooves. "I'm being serious!"

Vernon rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly.

"I thought it was kind of sweet." The ewe continued. "I mean, as strange as your brother is, he does care about you in his own weird way."

Vernon glanced downward, scratching back of his head awkwardly.

"I guess..." Vernon muttered before glancing back up at the ewe. "But y'all don't have to put somethin' like that in yer book just to-"

"Our book." The ewe corrected, holding up a finger. The wolf let out a soft chuckle.

"Alright, our book." Vernon adjusted his phrasing accordingly. "Y'all don't have to prove anythin' to Ully, or anyone. If you ain't sure about puttin' that in, y'all don't have to."

Dawn sighed, glancing back at the illuminated screen sitting on the mattress in front of her. In a way, she could easily argue that the entire book was the culmination of the two of them proving themselves to the public at large. Proving that a relationship such as theirs was just as valid as any other mammal's. That aside from a few small differences, the life they shared was nearly identical to any other couple. But in all honesty, it was really more of a declaration of how the two of them had found happiness in a place they had never expected, rather than an effort to prove anything. A celebration of herself and Vernon being together, and a story that could possibly inspire hope and strength to similar couples that struggled to stay together due to the discrimination that being in a pred/prey relationship brought with it.

Once again, the ewe found herself thinking back to her fears of just how such an outrageous chapter might take away from those ideas. The scandalous take, even with well-cited evidence to back up the claims, as well as the fact that she had mostly withheld her judgment, would surely diminish the core message of what she and Vernon had managed to put together so far.

With a sigh, Dawn closed the laptop.

"I suppose I should stop for now anyway..." Dawn sighed, lifting her glasses to swab away the sleep forming in her eyes. "I'll look it over again once we get back to the city and figure out what I want to do with it then."

Vernon nodded.

"Seems like a smart idea Darlin'." The wolf replied. "Always good to look at somethin' like that again with a fresh take."

Dawn leaned over the side of the bed, stretching an arm behind the night table in order to unplug her computer. Of course, she had initially plugged it in before crawling up onto the mattress, and now it made for a particularly awkward reach that the ewe had to struggle to make. She had almost lost her balance as she precariously leaned over the edge of the bed. But almost as soon as she felt herself starting to slip, she suddenly felt the familiar reassuring grip of Vernon's paw on the back of her nightgown keeping her steady.

Yanking the plug free, the ewe turned back to the wolf with a meek smile.

"Thanks."

Vernon smirked, giving the ewe a nod as she leaned over the mattress edge once again to open her suitcase.

"Say..." Vernon uttered as Dawn placed the laptop inside her bag. "That reminds me..."

"What reminds you?" Dawn replied as she began to zip the bag back up.

"Talkin' about headin' home." Vernon replied. "We should probably call yer Ma and tell her we wanted to stop by on our way back." The wolf continued. "It'd be rude to just show up."

Satisfied with her work, Dawn slid the case back under her side of the bed.

"Mutton chops, I nearly forgot." Dawn replied as she turned back to face the wolf, an uncomfortable frown crossing her muzzle. "I mean, Mom isn't usually busy. Especially with it being a holiday and all." Dawn idly shrugged. "But we should probably check in."

With a yawn, Dawn lamely reached for her phone, scooping it off the nightstand as she settled deeper into her pillow.

"Is it too late to call?" Vernon asked.

Giving the phone a tap, the ewe was faced with the illuminated lock screen displaying the time.

"It's three minutes past ten." Dawn sighed, using a finger to slide the lock on the screen open. With the lock released, the phone quickly switched over to the pin screen.

"Unlike me, my mother has always been kind of a night mammal." Dawn continued, punching in the four-digit pin. "So, she's probably awake."

"Night mammal huh?" Vernon chuckled. "Maybe I took up with the wrong ewe then, eh miss early bird?"

Dawn gave the wolf a playful jab with her elbow, sticking her tongue at Vernon as he chuckled to himself.

"Blame prison." Dawn retorted. "It's hard to break that kind of programming when yo-" Dawn stopped as the password prompt finally gave way to the home screen, exposing her to the flurry of notifications that took up more of half of the face.

"Three messages from Judy Hopps?" Dawn read curiously. "And four missed calls?"

She felt Vernon rest his head on her shoulder, the wolf's attention now fixed on the phone as well.

"Looks like 'someone' needed to get ahold of y'all bad." Vernon muttered.

Dawn placed a hoof to her muzzle as she let out a quiet gasp. "I hope it wasn't an emergency."

Dawn was fairly taken aback by just how much her phone had blown up without her noticing. Then again, she had been fairly busy since the last moment she had last texted the rabbit. Between running the food stall, the barbeque, and everything else, it shouldn't have been all too shocking that she might not have noticed the phone buzzing away in her purse.

Scanning the time of each subsequent call and post, it appeared Dawn's guess had proven to be more or less spot on. The texts and calls ranged from sometime between two and six in the afternoon.

"Well, I can see why I missed them." Dawn said, pointing out the times to the wolf with a finger. "We were swamped at the stall by then, and my purse was in the backroom pretty much the entire time."

She felt Vernon nod in agreement against her shoulder.

"So what do they say?" Vernon asked, an edge of excitement and curiosity in his tone as he leaned slightly closer to the screen.

Dawn tapped the call notifications first, only to reveal that Judy had been the caller all four times, and hadn't left a single message.

"Shoot. She didn't leave any phone messages." Dawn muttered.

"Damn cell phones." Vernon said with a sigh. "Everyone is so used to textin' that they're at a loss when they get an answerin' machine."

With the call log out of the way, the ewe opened the first text message from Judy.

"Judy: Hey Dawn, just checking in to see if your day is getting any better. Sadly, mine hasn't really improved much. Nick and Dad started fighting right out of the gate this morning, so I've had no choice but to resort to my emergency Ferris wheel plan. Wish me luck!" The message concluded with a wide-grinning rabbit emoji and a thumbs up.

"Ferris wheel plan?" Vernon asked?

Dawn quirked an eyebrow at her mate, wincing slightly as the prospect of trying to explain the whole complicated situation to the wolf.

"Eh..." Dawn trailed off. "Let's just say that Nick is having a few problems of his own now that he's meeting Judy's family as 'her mate'."

A wince formed across his muzzle as the wolf softly sucked in a hiss of air through parted teeth.

"Sounds fun." The wolf said sarcastically. "At least it's good to know we ain't the only ones havin' a 'great' weekend with the folks." Vernon muttered.

With a tap, Dawn opened the next message. It had been sent just five minutes later, and seemed to be the last text message preceding the desperate spat of calls.

"Judy: I think Mom and I are going to be here for awhile. Nick and Dad are just shouting at each other from the top of the wheel." The rabbit followed up with an annoyed looking bunny emoji, and then a tired looking one. "And now dad shoved him, and he'-OSW$"

Dawn scrunched her muzzle in confusion, trying to decipher the curious jumble of letters that had abruptly ended the rabbit's message.

"That..." Vernon's glanced back at Dawn with his own curious expression. "Probably ain't good, is it?"

"It is weird to say the least." Dawn muttered, a growing unease settling in her gut as her mind began to run through a variety of worse case scenarios ranging from something as mild as Judy dropping and breaking her phone to something as serious as the Ferris wheel breaking free from its moorings and cutting a path of destruction through Bunnyburrow. And while Dawn could only pray it was the former, she couldn't help but feel and a slight sense of guilt for failing to be there for her friend. A friendship that was still in the process of regaining the stable footing it had before Dawn had gone off the deep end.

The ewe tapped the final message with a shaking hoof, biting her lip as she prepared for what she was becoming increasingly certain was an angry message from the rabbit putting the ewe on blast for being a bad friend.

"Judy: So...Dad and Nick...uh...both fell off the Ferris Wheel.-"

A sharp gasp escaped from the ewe as she read over the first sentence, and she quickly slapped a hoof over her mouth.

"Teeth to tails..." Vernon murmured, running a paw through his head fur.

Dawn bit a knuckle as she mustered the courage to continue reading the message.

"They are fine though! It's okay! So don't worry!-" The rabbit continued, the sentence followed by a sweating bunny emoji. "But thanks to Nick's cast were going to be here for another week at least, so, it looks like I'm going to have to get sick leave for the both of us. I guess I kinda overdid it with my plan huh?-" Another emjoi, this one seemed to look tired or depressed.

Dawn felt relief that at the very least everyone seemed to be alright, and actually managed to chuckle slightly at Judy's comment. The rabbit did have a habit of being an overachiever to a fault.

"The calls were just to let you know what was happening, but I sorta forgot that you are probably just as busy as I was. So no worries. That said, things are gonna be kind of hectic here for a while, so I'll message you again when I get a little breathing room. The hospital in Bunnyburrow is always kind of...insane."

"I can imagine." Vernon said with a laugh, clearly skimming over the same passage the ewe had read. "The maternity wing alone has gotta be fit to burst."

Dawn snickered softly. "It's not that much better in Zootopia." The ewe shook her head. " The hospitals closest to high populations of bunnies and rodents was almost always begging city hall to fund more staff for their maternity divisions."

"And hey, in a weird way my plan did sort of end up working."

Dawn raised a curious eyebrow as she read the sentence, only to find herself smirking as read the remainder.

"Because Dad and Nick have to share a hospital room for the next week or so." Judy followed the text with a devilish looking rabbit emoji. "They are going to have plenty of time to work on their relationship. Ttyl Dawn, <3 Judy"

"Ugh...now that's gotta stink fer old Red, 'specially if old mam' Hopps is as stubborn as my Pa." Vernon murmured. Dawn turned to find the wolf wincing as he finished reading the screen. "Bein' stuck with him fer another week would be like torture."

Dawn sighed as she cleared her notifications. The look of disgust and distaste as Vernon spoke was clearly etched into his muzzle. But underneath the mask she could see a hint of disappointment, a shimmer of pain behind his emerald green eyes. It immediately brought Dawn back to the story Vernon had told her earlier when she had been tending to his wounds from his scrap with Yuri. About the qualities she never had the chance to see when it came to Dorian. Vernon's description sounded like such a wildly different mammal. The father that sounded much more like that kind of mammal that had raised a wolf like Vernon.

Dawn had never been close to her own father. The only good thing she could say about Aster was that he hadn't abandoned the family, although the idea of that being ultimately considered a 'good' was questionable looking back. The ewe couldn't think of a single memory of the mammal that was tainted with the stink of booze, his wild rants, his furious temper, or some combination of the three. His eyes always clouded with a burning disappointment over the daughter he was stuck with over the son he had wished he had. Aster had made himself impossible to love, nor even possible to like, at least in Dawn's eyes. And thinking back to her past, to that miserable time in her life growing up under the searing, vengeful hoof of Aster Bellwether, filled her with nothing but sickness and hate. There was no love in her heart for that ram. There had never been, and that fact had made her aware of just how hard it would be for her to understand what her mate was going through.

Dorian was a father to Vernon. A real father, not just in name only as her father was. He had been there, right alongside Audrey, doing their damndest to support Vernon through the best and worst moments of his youth. He had been a shoulder to cry on, a friend to play with, a real mammal worth looking up to. And now, in Vernon's mind, that wolf had seemed to simply disappear. Replaced by some cold, unfeeling facsimile of the law wolf he had been raised by.

Vernon had been looking forward to this reunion. It was evident every time he had spoken to Dawn about it during the weeks prior. The prospect of introducing Dawn to his mother and father was something he clearly took pride in. He was proud of her, proud to love her, and he just wanted to share that with the mammals he trusted the most aside from Dawn herself. And while it warmed the ewe's heart to think of Vernon's pride in her, it did little to lighten the weight she now felt over what she could only assume the wolf was feeling. A painful mixture of anger and disappointment for his father, clashing with the warm and sweet memories of the wolf he had expected to see when they arrived, and the struggle to come to terms with it.

Dawn placed a gentle hoof on the wolf's shoulder, rubbing it reassuringly. But as she opened her mouth to speak, the wolf was quick to cut her off.

"Anyway, we still callin' yer Ma?" Vernon asked, the troubled look on his face being quickly overwritten by his usual pleasant smirk.

Dawn was silent for a moment, wondering if she should continue to press the issue. The slight strain in the wolf's expression was easy to see. He wanted to move on, probably to avoid the ewe drawing him into another conversation about his father. And while Dawn was concerned, she ultimately decided it was better to table the discussion for now. They had agreed to save this sort of discussion for when they returned to Zootopia after all, hadn't they? And ending the night on such an emotional topic would certainly ensure a bad night's sleep for the both of them. With a sigh, Dawn opened her contacts list, tapping her mother's name with a finger.

"Let's see if she answers." Dawn muttered, as the screen displayed the name 'Mom', followed by the simple 'dialing' prompt. After a few seconds, it began to call. But almost as soon as the prompt had switched to 'calling', the ewe was met with a busy signal.

"That's odd." Dawn murmured, closing the call.

"That she's busy?" Vernon replied.

Dawn raised a curious eyebrow. "Well I mean it's ten at night." The ewe shook her head dismissively. "And my mother doesn't exactly have many friends." The ewe raised a hoof as she turned to her mate. "I mean, my father kind of...well, drove them away."

"Maybe yer mom's on a date?" Vernon asked.

That earned a giggling snort from the ewe as she shook her head in disbelief.

"Puppy please!" The ewe did her best to choke through her laughter.

"What?" Vernon shrugged. " She could be back on the prowl, huntin' fer some handsome young rams to have a little fun with." The wolf bobbed his eyebrows suggestively.

Dawn pushed the wolf playfully.

"Puppy, Stahp!" The ewe whined, sticking her tongue out as her muzzle scrunched in disgust. "That's gross!"

"Why?" Vernon chuckled. "She ain't that old. She deserves a good fella to make up fer yer dad. It's only natural she'd want to-"

"That's my mom!" Dawn spat through her laughter.

Vernon closed his eyes, gesturing lazily at nothing in particular with a free paw.

"I'm just sayin'." The wolf snickered. "Anywho, try again."

Taking a moment to shake off the lingering giggles, Dawn rang her mother again. But this time, rather than a simple busy signal the call was disconnected.

"She..." Dawn murmured. "Hung up?" The ewe glanced at her mate in confusion. The wolf closed his eyes again, holding up his paws defensively.

"What'd I tell you?" The wolf said.

Dawn gave the wolf a playful swat. "Would you stop already!" Dawn giggled. "She's just....busy."

"Mhh-hmm." The wolf replied.

"Doing...something." Dawn continued to protest.

"Hhh-hmm." The wolf repeated, his tone remaining the same.

"She's not dating!" Dawn puffed her cheeks in annoyance.

Vernon flashed the ewe a smug grin.

"You get so cute when you get flustered." The wolf's grin widened, revealing his teeth.

Exasperated, the ewe let out a terse sigh before slumping lamely into the wolf's side, her head nestling onto his shoulder.

"I guess we'll just have to call her on the train tomorrow." Dawn said sadly, her free hoof traveling idly up Vernon's flannel shirt before stopping at the first button and twiddling it between her fingers.

"I'm sure she won't mind even if we just show up." Vernon cooed, wrapping his paw around the ewe's shoulder.

With her free hoof, Dawn moved her phone to the edge of the bed before removing her glasses and doing the same with them. Free of her specs, the ewe began to undo the buttons on Vernon's pj's one at a time, playing with each fastener between her fingers briefly as she worked her way down from his collar. By the time she was down to the third button, the wolf quirked a curious eyebrow.

"Floofs, just what are you doin'?" Vernon said with a soft chuckle. " I think the last thing we should be doin' is getting' frisky at a time like this.

"Oh hush!" Dawn snapped, swatting the wolf playfully as she worked the third button free. It was only once the fourth button was open, fully exposing the thicker plume of fur on Vernon's chest did the ewe finally cease her little game, taking a moment to run her hoof through the luxurious pelt of invitingly snug fur.

"You are such a dog..." Dawn shook her head briefly before nestling it into Vernon's chest. The ewe nuzzled against her mate's fur, listening to the thrum of his beating heart as she began to idly stroke his pelt with a hoof. "I really missed this."

"I'm just playin' Darlin'." Vernon sighed. Keeping his paw tightly wrapped around the ewe, the wolf edged up deeper into his pillows. With his other paw, he pulled the comforter out from underneath them, carefully draping it over the pair as he turned on his side toward the ewe. The wolf smiled warmly down at the ewe buried in his pelt. "'Sides..." The wolf cooed, wrapping his other arm around the lamb. "This is purty nice too."

Dawn took a deep breath, inhaling that familiar earthy scent as her eyelids began to flutter dreamily. She really had missed this, even if it had only been two nights she had been forced to sleep without her Puppy Love. But in her book, two days without the warm and loving embrace of her mate as she drifted into a much needed peaceful sleep, was two days too long.