FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

In front of the house by the fields, a family of bulls had gathered, all of them standing in front of a car. The tallest bull stood with his back to the car, facing his family as he looked on at them with a smile. His gaze turned first to his younger sister, and then to his two parents, both of whom stood proud and tall in front of him. The younger sister could not do quite the same, considering the way she leaned against a cane to support herself, but she still looked up, her smile beaming.

"You'll be safe out there, right?" The younger sister was first to ask.

The young man smiled, bringing a hand forward to gently tousle his sister's hair. "Of course," he said. "I won't let those guys get at me." He then smiled, before turning to his parents. "Alanis will be fine while I'm gone, right?"

"Of course, Tsavik," the older man replied. "I think the question is, when will we be able to see the money."

"When I finish Basic and start doing missions," the younger bull replied. "I don't know if I'll be going very far."

"You underestimate yourself, Tsavik," the older bull replied. He smiled, bowing his head. "You'll make a good soldier before you know it, I think."

Tsavik bowed his head. "Thanks, dad," he said. He then turned to mom. "Don't worry about sending your favorite teas to me. I'm sure they'll have all the teas I could ask for there."

"I will still send you some anyway," she replied. "I know how much you like the blend I have made."

Tsavik nodded. "I hope they do not get lost to the mail, or customs," he said. "You know how the tea embargo has been unfolding lately..."

And then, the car behind the bull honked at him. "Hey, c'mon now, we haven't got all day here!" the driver shouted.

Tsavik chuckled, before spreading his arms out. "I'll come back as soon as I can," he said. "And I will definitely send my first payment as soon as I get it."

"Alright." The matriarch of the family smiled up at Tsavik. "You be safe, Tsavik."

"You too, mom," he said. He then turned, slinging his bag over his shoulder. The pack's strap seemed to press into his large chest muscles for a second, before he pulled away, entering the vehicle. He had to bow his head so that his horns did not puncture the roof of the vehicle, but as he did, he smiled at them, giving one last thumbs up.

And with this, the vehicle drove off, rounding the bend back onto the gravel road. And as he looked back, Tsavik got a good look at the fields that blossomed behind the house, at all the various plants. He looked at the way the cayya blossoms glowed purple in their springtime bloom, at the way the falsang root's leaves jutted out of the ground, at the size of the field that led up to his mother's little tea garden at the corner of the field. It was not quite harvest season, but in time he knew the harvest would be bountiful.

And so, he looked away as the vehicle moved on, exhaling as he steeled himself for the first days of Basic.

----**----

That evening, Dee had retired to bed early. It left Finn alone to administer treatment to his daughter, which was fine by him: he preferred to drop the pill in the water itself.

Alanis looked up at Finn happily. "So who's Tsavik going to war with?" she asked.

Finn shook his head, chuckling as he opened the pill bottle and spilled a pill onto his hand. "Oh, sweetie, he's not going to war," he said, a smile coming to his face. "He's merely doing peacekeeping missions. We're not at war right now, so they have to help people."

Alanis leaned back, satisfied by this answer. She then watched as her father dropped the pill in a glass full of water. She then looked back to her father, watching as he grabbed a glass rod and helped the pill dissolve into it by stirring it.

Finn smiled, before handing it to her. "If you're worried about him not visiting, I'm sure he will visit sometime," he said. "They have to take leave, after all."

"I hope so," said Alanis, taking the glass of water. She sighed, looking to the empty bed on the other side of the room. "It's gonna be weird sleeping without him here."

"It'll be weird for me too," Finn stated. He bowed his head towards the water, giving her a reassuring smile. "Here, sweetie, drink your medication, okay?"

Alanis nodded, before pulling the cup to her lips and drinking. Finn knew the medication quite well: he knew that the water was quickly turning into nanomaterials that would stimulate her mitochondria, all of which needed help. It was an exceedingly rare genetic disorder, one that could kill in days due to lack of energy if not treated. Thankfully, the treatment had already advanced to a level that Alanis could live a relatively normal life, and all that was needed was a drink of water with a pill dissolved in it every day just before her bedtime.

Now if only they were not on the edge of poverty. They had already taken out several loans from the bank to try to cover the damage, but these only added to the monthly costs the O'Laighins already had to pay, and this put a strain on how much they could spend for the treatment itself. They hoped Tsavik's income could help go towards paying everything they needed to pay, because otherwise...

Alanis finished drinking, before setting it down on the counter. "Will you be out in the field tomorrow?" she asked.

"Yes, sweetie," said Finn. He smiled. "Old Mackey'll be coming around to fix the field up. You remember him, right?"

Alanis smiled. "Yay!" she said. She then leaned back in her bed, looking up at her father. "Can I come see him cast that magic?"

"Maybe someday when you're older," Finn replied. "Right now, you should stay in the house, okay? I don't want you to inhale anything in case dust gets kicked up, okay?"

"Okay..." The disappointment in Alanis' voice was palpable, but she did not put up any further protest than this. She then looked up. "Say hi to him, okay?"

"Of course, sweetie." With this, Finn leaned forward, giving his daughter a kiss on the forehead before pulling back. He smiled, patting her head gently. "Goodnight, sweetie."

"Night, daddy." She then turned onto her side, her head resting on the pillow.

With this, Finn stood up, before walking to the door. As he lingered there, he watched as she looked up at him with a smile. Slowly, she adjusted, before closing her eyes and laying her hand right by the pillow.

She looked so peaceful as she drifted off to sleep, but as he watched her Finn could not help but feel a pang of sorrow hit his heart. There were pills left, but with money as tight as it was, and the farm not quite producing what it should have, they teetered on the edge. They were one failed harvest away from being unable to afford Alanis' medication, and the way things were going Finn felt that they were headed in this direction no matter what he did.

Still, Finn knew he had to keep going anyway. After all, his daughter remained so optimistic even despite everything that he owed it to her not to let her break.

And so, he turned the light out, before closing the door behind him as he exited the room.

----**----

"And this is the patch of ground you noticed?"

"Yes. The cayya squash harvest didn't quite take as much space in the field as I would have liked, and none of the other plants really came close. I can't think of any other explanation for what's been going on, really."

"Very well, then. Let me get this started, and we'll get going on this right away."

With this, Finn stepped back, watching the earth mage grab a small leaf from an obscure flower. For whatever reason, the O'Laighin farm's soil had been having issues with fertility ever since Tsavik O'Laighin was a young boy. The farm had chugged along just fine until then, but with that, there was now the added cost associated with revitalizing the land.

Thus, Finn stood over a diminuitive mouse, who worked over the land with practiced motions. There was some hesitation as he looked up and tried to remember a particular incantation, but then he nodded, before closing his eyes and waving his hands over where the leaf was planted.

And then, his hands glowed a gentle nut brown, the glow overtaking the mouse's white fur as he began to hum under his breath. Immediately, the soil's color changed beneath him, and the traces of grey that Finn had seen a few days before seemed to vanish. There it was, black and damp as always.

With this, the mage nodded, his hands returning back to their normal condition. "There we go."

Finn nodded, bowing his head as the mage stood up. "Thank you," he said. "It was time for the yearly check-up soon anyhow."

"Well, I suppose this could not have been better timed," said the mage. He then turned to Finn. "Is the rest of the field normal?"

"Of course," said Finn. "It would not do if any other part of this field was in a dire strait!"

"Then you are in good hands, I think," he said. He then grabbed his rucksack where it laid a short distance away, and then he started to walk towards the back. "The payment is already on its way, I suppose?"

"Yes," said Finn. He bowed his head, before following along as the mage walked to the gate. "You should get it by tomorrow. Wire transfer."

"Exactly as scheduled." The mage then bowed his head, giving a polite nod. "Let me know if anything else goes wrong and I will come back and fix it up."

"Of course," Finn replied. "Thank you so much for your services."

"Any time, sir." With this, the mage turned, giving Finn a smile. "I hope you have a pleasant rest of your day!"

"And you as well!"

With this, the mage opened the gate back to the road, and gave a quick bow of his head in acknowledgement before he made his way back to his car.

----**----

Dee wiped her forehead as she looked at the expense reports on the table. The accounting for the farm's finances was always the least favorite part of her day anyhow: managing the finances was a necessary part of the operations, but it was a lot of busy work that involved cross-referencing revenue from their produce and ensuring that costs were down. It was always stressful, and with the way Alanis' medications had been going and with the amount of money they had to pay back on their loans, it was always difficult to figure out what the next thing to cut should have been.

But even as she looked at the finances on that particular day, her heart sank, particularly upon looking to the form which she had received just that day. It was only one page, but the singular page terrified Dee so that once she was done with it she never wanted to set eyes on it again.

And so it was that Finn came in, looking down at Dee as she shook her head.

"Is something the matter, dear?" Finn asked as he hung his overcoat on the hook by the door.

"I..." She then glanced to the door where Alanis' room was. Finding it closed, and noticing that she was at least asleep by that hour, she nodded, turning to Finn. "Very much so, I'm afraid."

Finn then looked down at the table, his eyes scanning over everything. There were the usual odds and ends that Dee pulled out whenever she did the finances for the farm. Receipts from Dee's day at the farmer's market, the accompanying chit full of credits, bills and statements from everyone from the earth mage to the mortgage... And then, a single piece of paper, detached from the rest.

Finn turned, picking up the paper and analyzing its contents. It was after a few seconds that he pulled back, his jaw dropping slightly.

"Three hundred credit increase?" he asked.

Dee nodded. "And it is the next bill due."

Finn nodded, exhaling softly as he looked to the side. "But isn't that...?"

"It cuts into our finances," she said. She then looked out. "And with the yield what it was today, I don't know if we'll still be able to afford the medicine unless we cut something..."

Finn sighed, looking down. "Dammit." He tapped his hoof against the floor gently enough that it did not wake Alanis. "What do we do now?"

Dee looked to the table, swallowing. "I know you would rather I didn't say this, but I think we have to find a new Earth Mage soon."

Finn blinked in surprise, his shoulders slumping. "But he is the best earthen mage in this area!" he said. "It would be folly to go on without him, I fear."

"What other choice do we have?" Dee asked.

"I don't know," said Finn. He then shook his head, leaning against the wall as he looked outside. "He's the only thing that's been keeping the farm afloat. If he were to stop coming here, then..."

"But we have to," said Dee. "This is our daughter we're talking about here, and we can't pay for her medicine much longer." She then stood up, before perching behind him and placing her hands on his shoulders. "Maybe he knows someone who can help for a cheaper price. And anyway, he only came earlier today, right? There's plenty of time to find someone new."

Finn sighed, looking to the floor. "Does he know anyone?"

"Surely the best Earth mage in the area would know who to recommend," Dee replied. She sighed, rubbing his shoulder. "We have to."

Finn nodded. "He'll be disappointed to hear we have to look elsewhere," he said. He then turned to Dee. "He's been watching the earth here for a long while now."

"He'll understand," Dee said. She then smiled at Finn. "Promise me you'll talk to him about this."

The older bull looked out to the field past the window. The night had cast its shadow over the field, leaving everything but the stars and the moon to darkness. And as he saw this, he thought of how similar it looked to the ground after the mage had treated it like always. He wondered if anyone could produce results quite as good for cheaper a price, and if it was even possible to find around there.

And then, he sighed. "Alright, Dee," he said, looking at his wife. "I'll talk to him."

Dee nodded, pulling herself into Finn's chest. "Thank you," he said. "Please, it's for our daughter."

Finn turned to Alanis' door. He blinked when he realized that it was slightly ajar, a pair of petite fingers peeking out from the corner of the door. He saw Alanis' eye peek out, the eye shining in anticipation. She glanced to the floor, and Finn began to wonder why she had not been coughing at that point.

Finally, he sighed, pulling Dee closer and closing his eyes.

"Yes," he said. "For her."

----**----

Dee O'Laighin pulled into the farmer's market, her truck full of produce chugging along as it made its way in a little bit faster than usual. In the closest city, it was always open only on the weekends and it always took far, far too long to get into there, but it was always a highlight to go over there if only because they did their best business there.

But as she pulled into the usual lot, she could not help but feel a darkness cloud her mind, one that seemed difficult to shake off.

She then pulled into the lot, stopping in her usual assigned space. As she stepped out, she saw a rather tall, skinny wolf who was helping one of her neighbors unload at the market. The wolf noticed her immediately, and as she walked to the back, he smiled, nodding his head to her as he approached.

"Top of the mornin' to ya, Mrs. O'Laighin!" the wolf said, his thick off-planet accent seeming to bound across the walls as he approached. "How are ya doin'?"

Dee exhaled. Even the wolf could see that something weighed heavily on her shoulders, both from the fact that her movements seemed rather more sluggish than usual and her gaze remained turned to the ground.

"Things... could be better, Gregor," she admitted as she walked to the back of the truck "I couldn't bring the harvest of cayya squash today."

Gregor tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowing. "The situation's that bad?"

"Yes," said Dee. She shook her head, opening the truck bed and scanning the produce carts briefly. "When Finn went out yesterday, he noticed the fields were having issues earlier than normal. He's calling our mage in again to try to fix the problem, but we don't have the cayya squash today."

"Oh no..." Gregor breathed in, looking at the produce. He then turned, looking over. "Although, you may not be the only ones."

"No?" Dee asked.

Gregor shook his head, pointing down the row of farmers. "Mr. Laughlin down the road mentioned he's been havin' problems too, and he ain't that far from ya."

Dee nodded, swallowing gently. "I see..." she said. "That doesn't help our lot any at all."

"No, and I expect your poor mage has got his hands full," Gregor said.

"He tried to increase his price on us," said Dee. "Finn was able to talk him out of it, but..."

"Really?" Gregor's brows furrowed, and his ears flicked in annoyance. "Well, the right bastard better not do that again. Folks there ain't doing so well..." He then looked to the produce that Dee did have stowed in the vehicle. "At least ya got everythin' else, it looks like."

"Yes, but at what cost?" Dee asked. "That is one less item of produce, and it's our best seller. I don't know what we're going to do, Gregor..."

"Ya make the best of it," Gregor replied. He sighed, shaking his head as he pulled out his credit chit. "Here, iff'n ya want, I'll buy somethin' off of ya. Ya got any shalia cabbage today?"

"That I do have," said Dee. She smiled, before going to the truck bed and pulling the crate of shalia cabbage out. "How much for ya?"

"Four heads," Gregor said. "Ma's got a big dinner at the ranch tomorrow, and ya know she'll make a dang good pickle outa that cabbage."

"Quite the expense." Dee grabbed the chit-reader from the driver's seat of the truck, rushing to Greg as he inspected the shalia cabbage heads and picked out one. "You're a saint, Gregor."

"I'm just doin' what I can to help a fellow farmer here," he said, his gaze turning out. "It looks quite quiet out there today. I dunno how business is gonna be for any of us, so I gotta chip in first, ya know?"

Dee nodded, before lifting her hand. "I just hope something comes of this," she said. "Our biggest seller is out, so who knows what will happen next."

She shook her head, her thoughts turning to home almost immediately. And when she did, she felt a sense of impending dread, one that she did not want to acknowledge at all. Living at the edge of poverty like they did was a daunting prospect, and with the field being the way it was, there was one more thing at the forefront of her mind.

"I am fairly certain that Alanis' next prescription is due for pick-up soon as well," Dee admitted, exhaling softly.

Gregor blinked, the wolf's ears folding behind his head. "And you don't think you can get the money in time," he said.

She nodded, her shoulders sagging.

In turn, Gregor nodded, patting her on the shoulder. "Hopefully ye'll find a way, mate," he said. "And trust me, if I know yer little girl, she's a fighter." He then swallowed, looking over the rest of the produce. "Actually, if you got any produce left at the end of the day, I might buy some more of it out."

Upon hearing this, Dee managed to find it in her to smile for the first time that day. "That'd be appreciated, Gregor," she said. "Thank you."

The wolf smiled back, his ears pointing back to the ceiling. He then looked to the truck, before stepping towards it and looking to her. "Would ya need help unloading?"

Dee nodded, giving him a hopeful smile. "That would be nice," she said. "Thank you, Gregor."

"Anytime, mu'um!"

And with this, wolf and bull began to work towards unloading the produce from the truck.

----**----

Finn leaned over the table, looking at the expense report. Dee was right next to him, breathing in deeply as she looked over the receipts from that day's run at the market. It had been a rather rough day at the market, and Finn could tell that Dee's run there was not quite what it should have been. Even just scanning the numbers from profits made that day, he knew that they had operated at some amount of loss, but he feared getting to know just how bad the loss actually was.

"So he came today," Dee said.

"Yeah," said Finn. "It was a maintenance check, so he only charged the maintenance fee." He shook his head, feeling a little deep-seated anger inside of him. "Still, two hundred credits for maintenance? That is still quite a lot."

"It is," said Dee. She then looked to the floor. "But at least we have our cayya squash back."

Finn nodded. Still, he had to ask what had happened at the farmer's market at some point: having to make sales without their most popular product was certainly going to be problematic, and Finn dreaded hearing about exactly how problematic it would turn out. But, the question had to be posed.

And so, he exhaled. "What happened?" he asked.

"Sales didn't go as well as hoped," she said. She handed the document to Finn. "In fact, they were nowhere near what I expected. The customers just weren't there today, for some reason." She shook her head. "We all felt it, and the only reason I made as much as I did today was because young Gregor at the market bought out a lot of the produce."

Finn chuckled. "That is just like him," he said.

"It is, but it doesn't help us much," Dee replied. "All told, this is a dip from what we usually get at the farmer's market."

Finn took the document, his eyes scanning over the numbers in greater detail. As he looked down, his eyes widened: the numbers were in fact not quite as bad as his worst fears led him to believe they might, but they were still not enough to pay for everything they needed. He looked up, shaking his head as he thought of the expenses, related to everything.

She then sighed, shaking her head as she looked at Alanis' room. "I only have one question," she said. "When is the next prescription due for a refill?"

Finn looked down. There it was: the part of the conversation he dreaded more than anything. And as he thought of this, he felt his muscles freeze: at that moment, he was not quite sure what to say, and the news he had to deliver made it harder.

"Well, I..." Finn began. He sighed, looking to the side. "We're on the last pill bottle. We'll be out by the end of the week, and I don't think we can afford her next prescription."

Dee blinked, rearing back in shock. "What...?" She then stood up abruptly, looking over at Finn. "You can't be serious."

Finn's gaze only turned to the floor. Whatever words came to his mind to describe what was going on in his mind failed him, and as he looked to the floor, his shoulders sagged once.

"What about the bank?" asked Dee. "Surely they'll let us take out a loan to help pay for this coming prescription!"

"You know they won't do that," said Finn. He bowed his head. "Not with our already existing loans. And besides, even if we did take one out..." He glanced to the papers, shaking his head. "Is that really another monthly cost we can afford?"

Dee's heart sank: she then sat at the edge of her seat, shaking her head. "No..." she said. "That's... that can't be right..." She then threw her arms everywhere. "Maybe there's something we could..." She stood up, reaching for her communicator. "Maybe the McDonaughs will be able to take our property! Yes, we'll sell them a plot, that will get us enough to pay it in time!"

"In four days?" Finn asked.

Dee stopped, her gaze turning to her husband. "We have that little time?" she asked.

Finn slowly nodded, his hands going limp by his side.

Dee blinked, the tears coming to her eyes. "No..." she said. She shook her head vigorously, but she slowly sank back into her chair. "And there's nothing at all we can do."

Finn noted the way her words dipped, as if making a statement rather than a question. To this, Finn could only nod, breathing in gently. He could barely keep it together himself, and as he looked up his tears glinted in the light.

Dee nodded, before pulling herself into Finn's arms. "There's got to be something..." she said.

But Finn only weakly brought his arm back, rubbing his wife's back comfortingly as the reality set in for both of them.

----**----

Finn tilted the pill bottle so that the pills spilled onto his hand. By that point, there were few enough pills inside that he could count the amount left on one hand. They were due for a refill soon: in two more days, they would run out of these pills that kept Alanis alive, and with no way to pay for more at that moment he felt at a loss for words.

Thus, as he closed the pill bottle and somberly put it back on the night-stand, he sighed, his shoulders drooping as he kept his eyes closed. He leaned forward, his forearms coming to rest on his knees as he held the pill in his hand.

"Daddy?"

Finn turned to look at his daughter, who looked up at him from where she laid on the bed. He sighed, looking at the way her eyes shined, her smile still remaining constant as she brought her hand closer to his.

Even Finn could not keep his composure up around his own daughter, and gently, he looked at her, before taking her hand in his and gently squeezing on it.

"Hey sweetie," he said softly. "We still have a pill for today."

"We're almost out, aren't we?" she asked.

Finn sighed. He closed his eyes, before grabbing the glass of water by her bedside and dropping the pill in there and watching it dissolve into the water. He wished Tsavik or even Dee had been there: both of them were better at alleviating Alanis' fears about mortality than he was. Finn had never been good at this type of conversation, and he was certain he would never have to have it until the profits had started to decline somewhat.

"I..." He sighed, glancing to the side. "Don't worry about that, sweetie." He then held the water up to her, swirling the glass to make sure the last of the pill was dissolved. "Here."

Alanis took the cup, drinking it without any hesitation whatsoever. When she was done, she gently put it down, looking at her father gently. And when she looked at him, Finn saw it all: the fear of death, mixed with the serenity of knowing it was coming anyhow, and as her eyes shined with the barest hint of tears, she leaned closer to her father.

"Do you think it'll be painless?" she asked.

Finn could not help the water that gathered on his lower eyelids. He breathed in, swallowing a lump in his throat and doing all he could to blink the tears away. Alas, it only succeeded in sending a tear rolling down his cheek anyway, and as it did, he took a shaky breath in.

"I don't know, sweetie," Finn said, leaning closer to Alanis. "I don't know..."

Alanis nodded, leaning closer. "I'm scared," she admitted, and for the first time Finn watched the tears roll down her face.

Finn nearly started blubbering right there: Alanis had been so strong through all of this, Finn knew, and there was something about his daughter he was almost envious of. To see Alanis' optimism fall away even for a second nearly broke him, and the only reason he did not flee the room was because of how much like stone his feet became in that moment.

Still, he gripped her hand gently. "If... if it comes, do you want me to be here?" he asked.

Alanis nodded wordlessly. She then breathed in, before shaking her head and leaning close to her father.

Finn leaned in close, pulling Alanis into his chest. He did not say anything more in response, instead preferring to cradle his daughter close at hand. Alanis feebly pulled her arms around Finn, returning the hug as Finn had to bite down on his lower lip to avoid completely losing his composure.

Without warning, the door to the house burst open. Finn immediately sat up, his ears shooting up on edge. As he stood up, his tail began to swing wildly, and then he turned to Alanis' door, his eyes wide in shock.

But then, Dee rushed through Alanis' door, holding something in her hand. Finn barely saw the envelope that fell to the floor behind her, before noting Dee's excited face.

"Finn! Finn!" She then shoved a piece of paper into Finn's hand. "Look! Look at this!"

The older bull blinked in surprise, before turning his attention to the letter. Alanis sat up in bed slightly, looking up at Finn as he looked over the letter. He then sat down by Alanis, bringing the letter into the light to read it.

And then, he started upon seeing it was Tsavik's writing:

"Father, Mother, Alanis,

Sorry it's taken so long to get this to you. Finally done with basic, and I went on my first mission. Here's my pay so far. Rumors say I may be looking at a promotion soon enough, and with that you'll be getting just a little more money. Right now, I can only give you about 400 credits: it's not much, but it's all the pay I have.

Don't worry about me: I have all I could really need at the barracks, and for free. Worry about Alanis. She needs it more than I.

Yours,

Tsavik."

Finn blinked, looking back up at Dierdre. He then noticed that she held a chit in her hand, holding it close to her breast protectively as if afraid that anything else would break it. Promptly, he stood up, his hands gently landing on her arms as he bowed his head forward.

And then, Finn smiled, a small chuckle escaping his lips. "Dee, when next we write Tsavik, we need to send him something from home," he said. He then turned to get his keys. "I'll be right back, dear, we've got a prescription to refill!"

With this, Finn grabbed the chit from Dee and rushed out of the door, running faster towards the vehicle than he had ever run in his life. And as he ran, he felt his heart lighten up, the relief lifting the weight off of his shoulders as he turned the key and started off for town.

----**----

Things after that point evened out: after the initial money from Tsavik, Alanis' medical bills remained paid. The cost of the medication increased once again, but when it did Tsavik was able to match it in force.

The elder of the two siblings apparently rose through the ranks very quickly, they noticed: when Tsavik wrote them back, he mentioned that he was often commended for being a very good soldier no matter what had happened. Good at following orders, good at carrying out orders, Tsavik had it all, and as he sped up through the ranks he was able to send progressively more and more money back. One of his promotions even came without an added cost in Alanis' medical bills, and for a little bit of time, things stabilized again. The harvest had gone well, the money was steady, Alanis' medical bills were taken care of, and after a few promotions the O'Laighins had even begun to pay back their loans from the bank.

But, as always, things always got a little more complicated than before. The O'Laighins had gotten reports from Gregor that some of the nearest farms to them had begun to experience the same dust issues as they had, with greater frequency. Mage activity had grown increasingly common in the area, to the point that only two farmers seemed to not be affected by it, and even they were beginning to suspect what might come next.

Still, they made well enough: with Tsavik's pay coming along steadily, the O'Laighins felt a strange sense of normalcy return to their day-to-day lives. And as time went on, they felt they could maintain that even if everyone else had issues. Eventually, maybe they could get themselves out of the poverty hole they had dug themselves out of...

----**----

Dee smiled, bringing the tea leaves into her home. Already she was pulling the little leaves off of the stems, already thinking about what other dried components to add. At this time of year, the star fire blossoms were likely best: their tangy flavor tended to pair well with the dark falsang leaves she had pulled out. Maybe a dried fruit would work as well, she was not sure. Either way, she knew that this would be lovely with the coming of autumn.

She then set the tea down on the kitchen counter, laying most of the stems down and going to work pulling at the little circular leaves. She was already thinking of what temperature to set the oven at: with falsang leaves, you had to leave them to dry a very long time, and in making teas for a care package for Tsavik she knew she could not really afford to wait.

At that moment, Alanis came in, all smiles as she looked up to her mother. "Tea for Tsavik?" she asked.

"Yes, dear," Dee replied. "What sort of fruit do you think I should include?"

Alanis tilted her head to the side. "Why not Mr. O'Malley's plum harvest?" she asked. "Sean says they should just be starting."

"Mm..." She blinked, realizing that Mr. O'Malley's plums were not doing so well due to the surge in the dust risings in the area. She wondered if he would even begin to consider parting with his plums: in these times, every plum he had was precious, and why waste a perfectly good plum on a tea for a care package when it could go towards getting money to hire the mage?

Dee sighed. "I don't know if we can, sweetie," she said. "You know how few of them he's had lately..."

Without missing a beat, Alanis leaned forward. "Then what about Mrs. Clapper's strawberry patch?"

And here, Dee smiled: Mrs. Clapper was not necessarily the nicest girl in the area, but her strawberry fields were still as productive as ever. "I guess I could work with that." She then nodded, going back to her work. "Has your father come home yet?"

"No," Alanis replied. "He's been out a while."

Dee nodded, feeling the worry start to build. "That is strange," she said. "He should have been back with the mage by now..."

As soon as she said this, Dee suddenly perked her ears up, hearing the sound of a vehicle approaching the house. The loud slam of the door outside, however, caused her to jolt in place, and as she looked back to the front door, her eyes began to widen.

Dee immediately turned to her daughter. "Alanis, you should go to your room," she said.

Alanis obeyed without question, closing the bedroom door right as Finn burst in, clearly in a state of fury over this. He slammed the door behind him, his hoof clopping loudly against the floor as he stood there. He then took a deep breath, exhaling roughly out of his nostrils as he unclenched his fist.

Dee exhaled nervously, feeling her muscles stiffen. "What happened?" she asked.

"The fee for the mage went up," said Finn. "Again."

"What?" Dee pulled around the kitchen counter, walking up to Finn. "How?"

"Increased demand," Finn replied. "Everyone around this part of the county has been coming to him so much that he raised his prices. Just meeting demand, he said."

Dee frowned. "By making himself unaffordable for most of us?" she asked.

"Apparently," Finn said. "I suppose now more than ever is a good time to leave us in the dust!"

Dee blinked, tilting her head to the side. "Finn, what a thing to say!" she said.

"It's true though, isn't it?" Finn replied. "That's essentially what he's done." He shook his head, stepping in and shaking his head as he sat down on the couch. "And I... _may_have argued with him about it."

"You didn't," Dee said.

Finn nodded, before shaking his head. "O'Malley was on his way out, actually," he said. "And when he told me about it..." The large bull shook his head. "After all the years that we've dealt with him, he decides now is the time to take advantage of us, when we can't even fend for ourselves!"

He lifted his fist, but stopped just short of banging it on the table. His gaze turned to Alanis' room, and as he looked there, he unclenched his fist, before shaking his head and turning away. He exhaled roughly, and Dee noticed the tension leave his shoulders almost immediately.

"So that's it, then," said Dee. "We may lose the cayya squash."

"No," said Finn. "There are other mages out there." He then moved to the counter, opening up his communicator and exhaling. "I'm going to start contacting people until we find someone in our price range, Dee. We should be able to find someone, no matter where they are."

"You think the other farmers around here have thought likewise?" asked Dee.

"No doubt," said Finn. "I have a feeling we'll find someone just because of that." With this, he moved to the kitchen counter. "I've got this."

Dee shook her head, feeling a small amount of anger blossom inside her. "I have the feeling it won't be so simple, Finn."

The larger bull smiled at her. "Hey, have a little faith," he said. "This will just be a bump in the road." He then opened his communicator, before pulling out a list he had compiled. "You'll see."

And with this, he got to work calling them. Dee sighed, looking down at the falsang leaves on the counter. All the enthusiasm she'd had for concocting this new tea for Tsavik went straight out the window, and in its place she felt a dread that she could not quite describe. And so, she sighed, shaking her head and stepping away.

She could get to it later. At that moment, she needed to go outside to clear her head.

----**----

"So let me get this straight: this is your first time dealing in any kind of cayya blossom fields?"

"Yes, sir. I'm afraid I'll be winging it on that one."

"Hah! And here I thought you had no sense of humor."

"Oh believe me, I have a sense of humor. It's just... not always there."

Finn nodded, looking to the finch that was kneeling on the ground by the cayya blossoms. The cheapest option had actually been a quality upgrade from their old mage, and while Dee had her doubts she quelled them in the face of Finn's enthusiasm. And so far, Finn was not disappointed: the finch was professional, and seemed very happy to get any kind of work.

Still, the cloth over the finch's beak had concerned Finn, and as he walked outside he adjusted the cloth over his own face. Upon looking up, Finn saw the dust roll in from beyond, probably from O'Malley's plum field. The finch had mentioned seeing it upon getting to the O'Laighin's property, and thus the cloths went on.

The finch leaned towards the ground, looking into the soil. "Hm..." he sifted through it first, picking up some grains and rubbing them between his feathered fingers. "Consistency is a little strange." He looked up to the tall bull. "I assume this isn't the first time you've had a mage treat your soil."

"No," said Finn. "We've been needing to do it to keep the harvest up to date for years now."

The finch bowed his head, his beak turning into a grimace. "Shit..." He then turned, breathing in. "How long has this been going on?"

"About six, seven years now," said Finn. He then looked to the rest of the fields, a frown on his face. "I'm surprised the crops haven't failed."

"Honestly, so am I," said the finch. He stood up, turning to Finn. "The soil has this... weird consistency under my fingers, sir. I don't think I can really fix all of your problems."

Finn tilted his head to the side. "You don't?" he asked. He looked to the field. "The fields need this magic to survive. You can't render this surface fertile again?"

The finch lifted his wings, the longest feathers extending upwards. "Let me rephrase that," he said. He then looked around. "I can cast some spells, keep it going for another few months. But what's going on with your soil, it's only going to be a temporary solution."

"What would a more permanent solution look like?" asked Finn.

"Several mages getting together, combined with some fairly intense fertility therapy." He looked out to the field. "You might want to experiment with specializing in just cayya squash for a small amount of time, even. But I'm just one finch: I can't sew this all together. Not on my own."

Finn nodded. "So others are required." He exhaled, picking at his horns. "I'd need a lot of money for that."

The finch nodded. "I know," he said. He then stepped forward. "I would recommend you start saving. I have friends who I could enlist their help on, but if I know them they can't, and won't, do it without compensation."

Finn frowned. "I guess the air doesn't pay the bills for you either, huh?"

"No, sir," said the finch. "That's the best counsel I can advise." He then looked to the field around him, peering around at the pockets in the fields. "I'm going to have to find another spot for now. Maybe some place with more fertile soil will do the trick..." He then walked, gesturing for Finn to follow him.

The bull frowned, following the mage as he ventured further in-field. "And if I don't get this group together?" he asked.

The finch stopped, his talon digging into the earth. It was then that Finn noticed the way the finch's shoulders had haunched over, and that his feathers stood on end. This freeze in the finch's posture gave Finn reason to pause, and he felt his own heart skip a beat.

He breathed in, Finn noticing him gulp nervously. "I'm... gonna be honest, Mr. O'Laighin," the finch said. "I'd estimate that even if I found the best possible spot to perform this spell on right now, we're looking at about six months before this field is completely out of commission."

Finn gasped in surprise. "Six months!?" asked the bull. He then trudged forward. "How? Our old mage got it to last a year long before we had to call him in again!"

"I don't know," the finch said. "I won't speak for whatever care he gave your field because I didn't see it first hand, but I'm going to bet he was kind of careless." He then leaned forward. "Either way, you've got to move fast. I can only do so much right now, but if you can get the money to bring my friends along, I can get you a more permanent solution."

Finn nodded, bowing his head. "I appreciate your honesty," he said.

The finch nodded, not smiling as he had when he first arrived. "My professors taught me that's the only way to do these things," he said. He then found a spot by the falsang field, kneeling down and inspecting it. "Here may be a good place. Let's try this here, but you must promise me you will try to get the money together."

As Finn watched the finch pull out all of the materials he needed, he exhaled, bracing for the worst.

"How much would you ask for?"

----**----

"A thousand!?"

Dee O'Laighin reared back considerably when she heard this amount. It was so much that she very nearly fell out of her chair upon hearing it. Finn sat on the other side, tapping his pen against the table gently.

"Yes," said Finn. "And that, compared to what normal rates would be for something like he suggested, was a bargain." He nodded. "I'd be inclined to agree, considering something like this normally costs around three thousand."

Dee sighed, looking to the floor. Her ears drooped by the side of her head, and her fingers tapped gently against the table. "To think, things had gotten that bad to begin with..."

"Precisely," Finn replied.

Dee nodded, shaking his head. "Well, I could always talk to the bank," she said. "We've been starting to pay off our loans, maybe they'll let us take a loan out to pay for this."

"There is the hope," Finn replied, sighing. He sighed, shaking his head. "But regardless, there is reason to hope. Even if the loan doesn't go through, we can still save money, and if we save money we can have this paid in two months."

"Four." Dee shifted uncomfortably, her gaze turning to Alanis' bedroom. She then breathed in. "And that is if we get Tsavik's money soon. If we don't, well..."

Finn leaned back in shock. His gaze then turned to the papers that Dee held in her hands: she had been holding on to them the entire time, her hands tight around them like a vice that Finn was sure had wrinkled the paper at some point. There, on the upper right hand of the paper, was a logo that was all too familiar, one that Finn had seen plenty of times before when paying for Alanis' medication.

As soon as he saw this, Finn's jaw dropped, his heart sinking as he knew what this meant. "No..." he said. "Not again!"

Dee nodded. "I'm afraid so," she said. She then looked up at Finn. "Tsavik hasn't replied back since his last mission started, and if I have no money next week, then I can't pay for the prescription..."

Finn growled, shaking his head nervously. "Even with the money we saved from today's session?" he asked.

"Even with that," Dee replied. She shook her head, leaning close to Finn. "What do we do?"

"We'll have to apply for the loan and hope for Tsavik's money, then," said Finn. He exhaled. "I don't like the sound of this much either, but we're going to have to wait for it..."

Dee nodded, and then she leaned closer to Finn. She laid her hands over his forearm, and for the first time in a long while, Finn noticed Dee trying to hold back tears. She took a deep breath in, swallowing a lump in her throat as she shook her head to Finn. Her jaw worked, trying to say anything at all, and it was then that Finn could see the fear in her eyes.

The bull nodded, before lifting a hand up and drying Dee's tears away from both eyes. "We have to believe it will turn out alright, Dee," he said. "At this time, for Alanis' sake, we don't have any other choice..."

Dee nodded, exhaling gently. "I know," she said. "But..."

She thus leaned forward, shaking her head profusely as the tears escaped past the barrier of her lower eyelid anyhow. Her shoulders began to heave, and as she started sobbing uncontrollably she flattened her hand on the table.

Finn's ears folded back, and he himself felt his expression fall. He pulled Dee into a hug, before closing his eyes and patting her back gently. After a few seconds, he felt moisture gather inside of his own eyes, which he tried and failed to hold back.

"I know," he said, rubbing her back gently. He then inhaled, knowing what awaited if the worst came to pass. "I know..."

And so, he stayed there, neither bull moving away from the table as Finn slowly stroked Dee's back comfortingly.

----**----

Dee stood at the door with the communicator, holding it close at hand as she stood at the porch. Already, she saw small pockets of dust begin to swirl overheard from just past the shalia cabbage patch, the dust forming great swirls in the air as the wind carried them away. Already, she knew that Finn was trying to clamp it down, but as she looked up, Dee could only shake her head in dismay.

It was not just the O'Malley's lot from further down: now it was theirs too, and even Tsavik's money was not enough to keep the mage in. The bank had already denied them an application for another loan to try to get the payment together, and even Gregor could only so much, so there was only one avenue left: Tsavik's money had to come earlier than usual, and quickly, too.

She turned her attention back to the communicator, once again looking at it as she heard it beep once again.

"My apologies," the voice message began. "This is the voice box of Tsavik O'Laighan. I cannot come to the communicator right now. Please leave a message, and I will get to you as soon as I--"

Dee hit a button on her communicator, stopping it immediately. She shook her head, feeling her throat tighten once again. It had been the fourth time she had tried to get a hold of him over the past few days, and like all the other times this had resulted in a failure.

This came as nothing but bad news to her: she of course remembered that Tsavik had said he would be away on a much longer mission than normal when he had last gotten an opportunity to communicate, but by now he should have been back. The fact that he was not was disconcerting to Dee, and she was not sure how to take it.

She closed her eyes, looking up at the sun. Any minute now, Finn would be back from the farmer's market. He had opted to take the produce there, although even after extensive action there was only so much he could salvage from the field. Things were already looking somewhat grim for the sales prospects, and while this time they had the cayya squash they were still down a produce item. Dee also wondered if Gregor could even offer assistance: even if he did buy up practically all of the produce that Finn brought, it would not be enough to save them from their predicament in even the short term.

It was as this thought graced her mind that Dee gave a small cough. She breathed in deeply, before shaking her head. Being outside now was dangerous, she knew that, but being inside the house came with an atmosphere of oppressive doom-saying that she was not sure she liked. She needed the fresh air, although how fresh it was at that moment was really up for debate.

Thus, she shook her head, stepping inside the house. All she could do was wait for Finn to return home, and pray for the best.

----**----

"Moooom! Daaaaaad! Aaaaaaaaaaaagh!"

Finn and Dierdre O'Laighin were woken up by the pained shrieks of Alanis from across the house. Finn immediately leapt into action, throwing his covers off and rushing into Alanis' room.

"Alanis!"

The young calf had her arms raised in the air, her shrieks horrifying as Finn noticed that she seemed just a little less gaunt than before. The lack of a prescription bottle on the bed, this only brought into horrifying relief what had happened: her disease was now doing its work, and it was moving faster than anyone could fathom.

"Daddy!" Alanis cried out, her face streaked with tears as she writhed in the bed. "Everything hurts! Everything huuuuurts!"

Finn rushed to Alanis' side, gripping her hand gently and petting her head. "Just hang on, baby girl," he said. He turned to the door. "Dierdre, call the doctor!"

But as Finn looked outside, he saw Dee heading outside with the communicator, her steps frantic as they thundered on the hardwood floor. Finn realized only then that the sun had barely even risen, before he turned back to Alanis.

"I'm here, baby," Finn said gently. He caressed her head gently. "Just breathe, baby."

"Everything huuuuuurts!" Alanis replied. "Daddy, help me!"

Finn felt like someone had just punched him in the gut. In his mind, Finn knew what to do for help: call the doctor, try and see if he could get there as soon as he can. But as he sat there, he could think of nothing else to do for his daughter. The feeling blossomed in his chest, and in a second he felt the powerlessness, the helplessness on what to do to give his daughter even a little comfort.

And so, he did the only thing he could: he held his daughter close.

"I'm right here, baby... I'm right here..."

----**----

Dee stood outside of Alanis' room. Alanis' cries had died out by then, and in the silence Dee was left wondering what was going on in there. Finn had not left the room, and for the past hour the doctor had stayed in the room. The sun had risen by then, but Dee did not go out into the field, for fear that she might be out when the doctor left.

She coughed, her cough a little louder than before. She felt at her forehead: her forehead burned rather badly, and her cough had not quite abated at all. She made a note to make some tea for herself when the doctor had left, but for right then, there was nothing she could do but wait.

Finally, the door opened slowly, with both Finn and the doctor walking out. The doctor's head hung from his shoulders, the older deer shaking his head grimly as Finn followed him out. The door closed behind them, and Finn could only shake his head sadly.

Dee stood up, fearing the absolute worst. "Is she alright?" she asked.

"For now," said the doctor. He sighed, shaking his head. "But the only thing we can do now is make her comfortable."

Dee blinked, her muscles immediately tensing. "How could you say that?" she asked, her eyes wide in terror as she stood up. "We just need the medication right now!"

"Unfortunately, there is a threshold with this disease that the medication stops helping with," said the doctor. "She's lost feeling in her fingers."

And this was like a knife to Dee's heart. The doctors had warned her about what the loss of feeling in Alanis' fingers meant: it attacked the nervous system first, of course, and from there it would go across the rest of her extremities, before ultimately rotting her brain. At that point, she knew that even the medication could only prolong suffering.

Immediately, tears came to Dee's eyes. "No..." She shook her head, the tears shaking off of her muzzle. "She can't be... There's no way...! I...!"

And then, she unleashed a series of coughs, doubling over as she did. Finn immediately knelt by her side, holding her close as she coughed and began to sob into his shoulder. When the coughing subsided, Dee could only cry into Finn's shoulder, her hands gripping his nightshirt tightly as she shook her head.

Finn nodded, holding her close as he looked to the doctor. "Thank you for trying, doctor," he said. "I'm afraid, though, we can't pay you for this."

But the doctor shook his head, letting out a heavy sigh. "You've explained," he said gently. He sighed. "Consider this a pro bono consultation. You've already had to suffer enough." He then sighed, shaking his head as he moved to the door. "Just... make it painless."

Finn nodded, feeling his own eyes water. "Of course, doctor."

And with this, the deer nodded, exiting the house. This left Dee and Finn on the floor, and with the silence coming from around the house. It grew oppressive, and as Finn knelt next to Dierdre the silence began to bear down on him, putting uncontrollable pressure on both of them that made the air inside the house feel heavy.

Finn took a long, dragged breath, and then he broke down, the tears freely streaming down his face as he held Dee close.

----**----

Finn sat by his daughter's bed-side. In the days since they had run out, her condition had rapidly deteriorated, just like the doctors had said it would. Now, the little girl that laid on the bed looked up with a face whose flesh had sunken in. All of her flesh had sunken in, revealing a bone structure that seemed to be crumbling underneath, one that jutted out past what little muscle she had left. Her eyes had sunken in as well, and Finn had noticed with dismay that a good chunk of fur had started to fall on the bed.

It was a ghastly sight for sure. But there Finn held his vigil, letting Dee take the field duties. After all, he owed it to her.

Alanis turned her head, looking up at her father weakly. She exhaled, the sound coming out as a pained squeal. Alanis could barely even breathe anymore, let alone talk. The one time she had tried in the past four hours had been too painful for her, he could tell: all she could do was look at him, her eyes wide and glassy.

Finn simply stayed next to the bed, holding her hand in his. "Alanis..." he whispered. "I'm here, baby..."

Alanis very weakly nodded: her neck looked like it would have snapped if she had taken any stronger muscle action. The rise and fall of her chest was also very small, and so weak that Finn tried to look away from it.

And then, Finn felt his daughter's hand go limp. Finn turned to Alanis, seeing her go limp. Even her chest had stopped moving, and the complete silence inside of her room was deafening to Finn. Not a single sound was heard then, so much so that Finn himself was afraid to breathe.

The sound that ultimately pierced the silence was Dee's cough from outside the door. This gave Finn the permission he needed to finally breathe in, before standing up and gently laying Alanis' hand by her side. The tears began to flow freely, right as he thought he had no more tears to give.

He knew what came next: he would have to inform Tsavik once he got out of his mission (whenever that was: his son had still not quite replied to any attempts at contact), he would have to make the funerary arrangements, and he would have to get his financial affairs in order. And as he left Alanis' room, he thought of how horrible the thought was that he had done everything he could to keep her alive, and yet there they were...

Dee was seated in the kitchen when Finn slowly walked out. When the two bovines locked glances, she knew what had happened. And so, the only thing she could do was sniffle, before falling forward onto the table and crying.

----**----

Mrs. O'Laighin coughed lightly, shaking her head. For whatever reason, her tried and true cough remedy was not necessarily working for her this time around, and this time she was at a loss as to how to stop it.

She then looked outside, seeing the clouds of dust that were billowing off of their land with increasingly greater frequency. From where she was seated, the angry clouds almost seemed blue with the magic that they had tried to tend the land with, as if the dust itself was angrily shedding whatever was left with it.

She sighed, shaking her head as she took another sip of her tea concoction. Her fever raged on, already adding to her worsening feelings as she downed her tea brewed from the last little briva leaves she had saved.

The door opened again, and in strode Mr. O'Laighin. The scowl on his face immediately told her that something was wrong, but she dared not stand up from the dining room table as she saw him shrug off the coat that he had taken to wearing, his bandana following suit as he stuffed the damp towel back under the gap of the door.

"Damn dust..." he shook his head. "I get the feeling there's nothing our mage can do about this. It's gone faster than even he thought..." He then turned to Dee. "How's your cough, dear?"

"It's..." She let out a gentle cough. "It's not going away."

Finn nodded, approaching the table. "Alright, from here on out, you are not going outside again," he said, his tone stern as he waved his finger in his face. "I'm pretty sure it's that dust that's responsible for what you're dealing with right now. Don't go outside again, and if you must, cover your face."

Dee reared back slightly. "That's... a forceful way to put it," she said.

And to this, Finn could only sigh. "We just lost Alanis a week ago, dear," he said softly. "I don't want to lose you too."

Dee regarded this for a second, seeing the way his eyes watered. She noticed, too, that his muscles were quite tense, and as she looked at his hands she saw that he was doing everything in his power not break down in front of her. It was so like him to try to stay strong, and even through the worst...

Dee simply sat back, turning her gaze to the window. "Where did the decay spread to now?" she asked.

Finn sighed, his arms relaxing somewhat. "The falsang, this time," he replied. He sat down at the table, shaking his head. "I saw dust in the leaves."

Here, her eyes widened in shock. "That's... That's half the field now."

"And by the time the season ends, even the wildflowers will be planted in dust." He shook his head. "I never thought magical decay could happen so fast. It was just the start of the month that this began happening, right?"

"Yes," Dee replied. She bowed her head, giving a soft cough as she shook her head.

Finn sighed, before swallowing. He then reached forward, grasping his wife's hand and looking at her apologetically. "I'm so sorry, Dee," he said. "If we had just switched first instead of maintained our loyalty, we wouldn't be in this situation at all."

"What do we do now?" asked Dee.

And for the first time in years, Finn did not even open his mouth. Instead, his gaze turned to the floor, exhaling gently as he pondered their options. The other produce was not ready for harvesting, but by the time they were ready the ground would already be turned to dust. The last letter they had received from Tsavik gave no indication that he would be back from his mission soon, so even then they could not rely on the payment from Tsavik's post in the Fleet. And with Alanis only recently buried, the funeral costs had eaten up what remained of the money meant for her treatment.

And so, Finn bowed his head, shaking his head. "I don't know," he said. "I just don't know, Dee." He then looked up, his fingers gently rubbing her hand.

With this, Dee nodded, before picking her tea up and sipping one last time.

She then looked down, shaking her head. A nostalgic look came to her eye, and a single tear began to flow down the curve of her snout. "I am going to miss this tea," she said. "Of all the teas we ever farmed here, that was my favorite."

The small cough she gave shortly afterwards seemed only to drive the point home, as did the louder cough that followed.

----**----

Finn rubbed the sweat off his brow. He coughed lightly, pulling the flap of the bandanna that was tied to the front of his muzzle. Whether it was from the dust that was billowing all around him or the stench of decaying cayya blossoms in the air, he was not quite sure anymore. However, what he was sure of, was that the entire cayya stock in the field was dead at this point.

In his frustration, he smashed the hoe against the ground, his eyes not even widening at the way it had jumped up slightly upon impact with the hard dirt.

"Dammit, dammit, dammit!" He threw the hoe to the side in short order, before falling to his knees and screaming at the heavens above. With this, he leaned forward, his fist bashing the earth beneath it as he started shaking his head, his eyes stinging from the combination of dust and tears.

He heard a louder cough behind him, and as he turned, he looked to see his wife joining him on the field. "The cayya squash as well, huh?" she asked.

The older bull nodded. He said almost nothing, shaking his head as he looked back to the ground.

His wife got the hint, but before she could comment any further she unleashed a fight of coughing. She fell to the ground, her coughing fits racking the air as he turned, noticing the way her chest heaved harder than usual when coughing.

He shook his head, before making his way to her. "Honey, get back in the house," he said. "You know breathing all this isn't safe!"

"I... I can't..." she moved to respond, but she could only respond in coughs, where she took bigger breaths in and out.

The older bull then shook his head, standing up immediately and pulling his wife to her feet. "Get in there," he said. "Come on!"

He immediately began to move towards the house as quickly as he could. Despite this, though, her coughing only grew worse with each step. By the time he had pulled her back into the house, each cough was exploding past his shoulder with a force that he could only imagine gave her no room to breathe at all.

Finally, he got into the house, his hands fumbling with the doorknob. As soon as he was in the house, he closed the door behind him, hearing a single explosive cough from her. She went limp, but Mr. O'Laighin barely noticed as he sat her on the couch, immediately running back to the door to close it. He stuffed the cloth under the door again, before shaking his head.

"I warned you not to go out there, dear," he said. "Even with the bandanna, your fever's still running high. And we can't have you working the field until you're better, okay? We don't want you to come down with the same thing that Alanis had. Right?"

And then, Finn looked at his wife sitting on the couch. She was completely silent: this seemed a little odd to him, considering how loud her coughing was beforehand. He frowned, before standing up and approaching her.

"Honey?" he asked.

He then placed a hand on her shoulder, to which she had no reaction. However, her head hung limply to the side, and Mr. O'Laighin was about to ask what was wrong when he noticed that her mouth also hung open.

He blinked his eyes wide, before bringing a hand up to her forehead. It was then that he realized that her eyes had rolled into the back of her head.

"No..." Finn stepped back, before reaching for his wife's wrist. He looked for the spot there that he knew he would feel his wife's pulse, but found no motion waiting for him there. He paused, his eyes watering immediately as he looked on at her, seeing the way her chest failed to move, the way her eyes began to take on that glassy look, the way her tongue lolled out of her mouth.

Immediately, he pulled back, shaking his head in disbelief. "No... No, no, no!" Immediately, he scooped his wife's corpse into his arms, holding her limp head against his shoulder as the tears began to flow freely. "No! Dee!"

He himself let out a little cough, sobbing loudly as he nestled into his wife's neck. In his mind, he imagined her arms coming to wrap around him, but he was greeted with no such sensation against his back muscles. He stayed like this for a good while, unwilling to let go as he held her close.

Finally, after what felt like years, he pulled back, his eyes stinging with the combination of tears and dust. He then looked at her, arranging her body on the couch. Logically, he knew what should have been done: he should have gone straight to the phone to report her death to the authorities, informed Tsavik, started making all the arrangements, all of that.

But logic went out of the window: the last of the cayya squashes was dead on the field, and with it went all hope of the farmland ever being fertile again. Even if the yura blossoms made it to the end of the season, he was certain that those could never be replanted either, so no matter what the farmland was finished. There was nothing left: Alanis and Dierdre were dead, for all he knew Tsavik was dead, and now he was left alone...

Slowly, the bull stood up, trudging towards the door. As he did, he tore the bandana off of his face, letting it fall to the floor gently as he moved towards it. And as he placed his hand on the door, he breathed in, pondering if this was really the best idea.

But, in the end, sorrow won out: there was nothing anybody could do, after all.

And so, he opened the door. The dust began to billow in, and as it did the old man could only turn, walking back in. He sighed, not caring anymore that he was breathing in the very agent that had killed his wife just minutes earlier. When he was back in the center of the room, he turned, kneeling on the floor in front of where his wife's body lay. With an unusual level of calmness, the older bull thus clenched his hands into fists, and closed his eyes that still stung with the residue of tears and dust.

And so, with a breath, Fionnghan O'Laighin waited for the end to come, remaining still in the center of the room as he began to feel the dust fill his lungs.

----**----

A Few Years Later...

Along the curve of the road leading up to the property, a car came to a stop. The headlights dimmed immediately, and with this, the vehicle gently touched down onto the ground.

In the cool night air, someone stepped out of the passenger's side. From within, a tall bull stood, his body conditioned by many years as a military soldier. The muscles threatened to break open the coat that he wore, his only safeguard against the cool breeze of winter. The snow was nowhere to be seen, as he noted to himself, but the snows were always late at that time of year anyhow.

And then, he looked out to the field. His eyes scanned the landscape. He saw the dark ground before him: one could be forgiven for finding it difficult to believe that there were crops planted here once, for the ground looked hard. A billow of wind kicked up some dust that was left over from the years of neglect, and it was with a whiff of the air that the bull caught the acrid smell of ineffective magic.

And then, he glanced to the side: after all of those years, there it was: the old house, sitting at the corner of the field the way it always had. Years of neglect had ensured it was nothing but decayed wood now, the old windows having shattered long ago from how the structure had collapsed in on itself. Some external paint hung on stubbornly to the walls of the building, but with some time, the bull knew it would have gone eventually.

He exhaled through his nostrils, looking to particular spots on the land. There, was where he and his sister used to play at evenings. There, deeper down the field, was the place where the falsang roots used to grow, the little tubers always proving to be difficult to uproot when the harvest came. There, to the left, was where the bull's parents would sometimes go for the private anniversary picnic, always a place that they thought the children would never see them from until he and his sister surprised them with cake one day. And there, just past the fence, was where he used to sneak out to go on his adventures in the nearby area...

Memories just flitted by even from a distance. The bull wanted desperately to come onto the land again, see what could be salvaged, but he knew that the fence that warned against trespassing forbade that. He knew it was a new fence: one could always tell new magitech fences when they saw them, after all, with the soft-red glow they emitted to burn anyone who dared enter. And so, he knew such an endeavor was impossible.

At this moment, the driver of the vehicle popped his head out, the otter looking straight at the bull. "Hey..."

The bull remained silent, even as the otter stepped out to join the bull. As always, the bull's expression was stern, his expression somewhat difficult to read. His body seemed somewhat tense, though, and the otter sensed that there was a lot going on in his companion's head.

"I guess this means a lot, huh?"

The bull nodded. "They said construction was going to start tomorrow," he said. He inhaled, and for the first time that the leopard could remember, he thought he saw water come to the bull's eyes. "All of this, gone..."

"Yeah..." The otter sighed. "I can't even imagine how that must feel."

But the bull simply blinked his tears away, exhaling as he pressed his hands against the door. "It has been a few years," he said, simply. He swallowed, looking out. "Still, to think it's going to get torn down tomorrow..."

"Yeah," said the otter. He then turned to his companion. "You know, Tsavik, we don't have to be back home by midnight, if you needed a little more time."

Tsavik nodded, remaining silent as he looked over the land. He tried to imprint the way he remembered on the landscape before him, as if building a time capsule for himself in the shadows of the trees that surrounded the plot. He looked, but even with the safeguard of years he could not quite imagine that the cayya squash had really been on that part of the field, he could not imagine that they had held on to so much land over the years despite the diminishing returns. And above all, as another dust cloud rose from the barren landscape, he could not imagine the black, luscious soil he held in his hands falling through his fingers as belonging to the land before him.

And as the illusion crumbled, Tsavik bowed his head towards his companion.

"Thank you, Jon," he said. "For everything. The car, for coming with..." He sighed, nodding at him and tilting his head back towards the car. "I think I'm ready to go back."

Jon nodded, before walking to the driver's side of the vehicle that took them there. "Then let's get back," he said as he opened the door. "Let's get you home."

And with this, Jon sat down, closing the door after him.

Tsavik nodded, opening his own door. And as he climbed into the seat, he spared one last look at the property. As the last dust cloud dissolved into the air, Tsavik thought for a solitary second that he could almost see a flash of life in the familiar home. For a second, he was finally able to conjure up an image of what his old home had looked like from this place in the road, and it was all he needed to get overwhelmed with memories.

But the single second passed, and then it became a barren landscape again.

Tsavik bowed his head, before turning away, closing the door behind him. A second later, the lights came back on, and the car roared on, leaving the scarred earth behind in its wake.