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More super crazy deluxe canine fantasy action for your viewing pleasure. If it sucks, tell me. If it doesn't, tell me that too. On to the talking dog-people.

Chapter 3: Shepherd of Fire

After a few minutes of walking through the sand, Seth attempted to take Richard's mind off of what happened with the dying Senkhari wolf by asking Cyrus about his past, figuring it'd keep him from getting too bogged down in thoughts about Lydia as well. The well-groomed fox sighed and began, "I guess you could say I was a bit of a problem child. The Fox family is right under the Vulpinex as one of the most respected in Timbria, and I couldn't give half a shit about that fact. They tried to teach me manners as a kit; I went outside and climbed trees and came back filthy just to fuck with everyone. They tried to teach me proper social etiquette; I showed them a proper finger and practiced with my bow every day until I could shoot the nipple off a female's tit. They tried to get me to court other fox females of my 'status'; I spent all that time getting our female lupine servants into bed. They really didn't like that last one. Sex before marriage, or getting caught anyway, is a massive sin in the 'noble' families. Extramarital sex with a wolf... why, I'm surprised they didn't castrate me on the spot. Everything started piling up, and I just couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed my bow and a few things and joined the fuckin' army. Didn't even say goodbye t'anyone. Not like they really cared. I was one of eight. Only sibling I ever liked was a younger sister, but she became a confidant of Princess Sasha and was hardly ever around the house anyway."

Seth got another chill at the mention of his old flame's (well, kind of. You know) name, then asked if all that meant he had no quarrel with wolves. "As a race? No," Cyrus said with a chuckle, "Contrary to popular belief, not all foxes are racist dickholes. A great big chunk of us are, but some, like me, have no problem seeing past race. Our accents and colors of fur shouldn't dictate who we associate with. Those servants I mentioned were my closest friends, too, and I can tell you that they fucked better than any fox I knew." Richard was clearly displeased with some of Cyrus'... moral attitudes, and asked kind of harshly if he thought that sexually taking advantage of servants really made him "close" to them, to which Cyrus responded, "Don't get the wrong idea, Richard. Servants aren't obligated to perform any sexual favors, and that rule is well-respected. Besides, most foxes wouldn't put their paws anywhere near a wolf's crotch. I was an exception, and everything was completely consensual."

Richard wasn't convinced, and Seth interrupted any further conflict, explaining that Richard wasn't exactly a fan of polyamory, and that they should probably just drop the subject. "Richard," Cyrus sighed, "Before I take Seth's advice and shut up for a bit, I have no regrets about anything in my life except one. When I said I left without saying goodbye to anyone, there was one wolfess that I wish I had seen before I left. Never touched that one; didn't want to change who she was. I've had a long time away from everyone to think about some things, and one of the only reasons I want to survive this and get back is so I can apologize to her for not using my status to help her. And maybe tell her... shit, I don't know, look I'm not the sexual predator you're making me out to be, alright? I still like my occasional fun and debauchery, especially out here where I'll take whatever I can get, but I get the feeling we're going to be together for a while and I don't want you to take me for a monster."

Richard stared at the fox for a few seconds, then said, surprisingly, "I... understand. I didn't mean to judge you. If you don't mind though, what's her name?" Cyrus paused, looking at the ground, then said quickly, "Matilda". Richard thanked him, and the group returned to silence, which was something Seth was just not having. "So," he chimed in again, "What about you, little fox? How did you get here?" "Little fox" in this case was a very apt description of Alistair Stalwart. The diminutive red-headed, orange-furred, freckle-faced fox looked to be about 14, maybe 15, but that would be pushing it. "I come from a noble family from the port of Greenwater," the fox spoke softly, "but as I got older I found that I had this... urge to, um, steal things. One day I got caught, and the soldiers told my parents I could either go to prison, or use my speed and dexterity in the army. They chose the army, and then the King decided to go to war right afterwards." "When he got to our unit he was hopelessly lost," Cyrus recalled, "So I took him under my wing and helped get him acclimated to military life. And then suddenly, he demonstrates a level of skill with those knives that I didn't know was possible. Fuck archery, this kit could take down a full Senkhari column by slitting all their throats. And they wouldn't even know what hit them." "I don't want to be here though," Alistair spat out, "I just want to go home and see mum and dad again." Cyrus placed a paw on the kit's shoulder and told him that he would soon enough. I'll also give you a moment to stare at your screen for a minute and process that piece of information. Yep, war's hell, kids.

Finding himself in another awkward spot, Seth told the group about his apprenticeship as a blacksmith and his need to get back to Lydia, and Richard finally caught on and explained the situation with his siblings and drunk-ass dad. Cyrus then asked the last member of the group, "How about you, Harold? Got a story? You don't seem to say much." "Aye, I guess. I'm just a simple miner. Had a wife, Anne, but she got sick an' died, and two livin' sons, Henry and Johnny. Goes withou' sayin' that I'd like to be back with them when this is over. By the by, call me Harry," the beast spoke. Which, honestly, I wasn't expecting that at all from the brown-furred, shaggy dark-maned, quiet-except-in-the-throes-of-battle tree of a wolf. I predicted something more along the lines of "I am Groot".

Not much longer after that, the Fearsome Fivesome, as I will never refer to them again, reached the temporary Timbrian compound, at which point a fox in stunningly shiny armor accosted them before they could even get a chance to sit down. The fox, who looked strangely familiar to Seth for some reason, asked if they were the ones who caused all the "mayhem and destruction" at the north end of the battlefield, to which they tiredly nodded their heads. The fox smiled broadly and introduced himself, "Robert Dale, Timbrian Army King's Regiment. General Noblefur would like to speak with you all. I believe he has a proposition for you." He shook all their paws as they gave their names to him, and when Seth told him his, Robert looked away and furrowed his brow as if deep in thought. Seth raised an eyebrow, and when Robert looked back he mentioned that the name sounded familiar, but it was probably nothing.

As the group followed the new fox through the makeshift camp, which was still being erected since the battle ended only a short time before, Richard asked curiously, "What exactly is the King's Regiment? I've never heard of it before." Before Robert could give the official description, Cyrus butted in, "Everything the government does that employs violence but they don't tell you about. Espionage, assassination, racketeering, infiltration, all both foreign and domestic. Just as likely to seduce the queen of another kingdom into bed to divulge her secrets as to slit her throat afterwards to destabilize her government. Bad news is, they don't exactly represent the moral high ground, and they're entirely composed of foxes. Good news is, they're just about the only part of the Timbrian military that can actually get things done." "That's a... quick explanation," Dale accepted, "not the most detailed description, but that's basically right. Guess I should've expected a son of the Fox family to know how we operate. In The Regiment we do more than just subterfuge, too. Personally I myself guarded the royal family for a few years before being sent to Senkhar in the Eastern War. Then they left me here as an infiltrator in Kishath, collecting intelligence for the coming invasion."

Seth's heart skipped a beat as it hit him who Robert was, and silently hoped he wouldn't recognize him. He didn't feel like going down that road that day. Regardless, he was curious about what became of the fox, so he queried, "My wife's father was killed in the Eastern War. That was five years ago. That's a long time to be undercover, isn't it?" "Sorry for your loss, lad," Robert apologized, "and I suppose it is. I kind of like it here though. I'll probably stay here when this is all over." Cyrus snickered, "No desire to return to Vulpinum? I can understand that."

Shortly thereafter, the six furs entered a hastily assembled tent, inside which stood an armor-clad, gray-haired, grizzled red fox leaning over a wooden table. "Dale," the obviously important fox said, "Have you discussed with these males the role of the Regiment?" "For the most part, sir," Robert informed him as he stood off to the side of the tent, arms crossed over his chest. "Right then. As many of you probably know, I'm General Galahad Noblefur, and as you probably don't know, I've been placed in charge of coordinating Regiment actions on the Senkhari coast," the fox, who Cyrus and Seth both thought looked more regal than the actual Timbrian royalty, explained, "and because of that stunt the five of you pulled, a lot of the males in the front-line units who wouldn't have survived did, and we took our first victory in Senkhari territory. Now, since you saved so many lives, I have figuratively pissed on any disciplinary action that some officers suggested for you, and decided to propose an opportunity for you. Would any of you be opposed to working with each other for an extended period of time?"

They all shook their heads, and Cyrus commented, "See? Told you we'd be stuck together." "Good," Noblefur nodded, "Unlike most of Timbria, the Regiment knows where we stand. Integration is essential for a strong military and a strong nation. We weren't able to desegregate the standard army before the invasion, but with some intense pressure on the King we did manage to put together something we call the Silver Wind Plan. This involves putting together multiracial Regiment teams for rapid, lethal strikes against enemy positions. We'd like the five of you to form one of the first of those teams. You'll have access to the best equipment and resources, and we will expect the best in return." Seth and Richard looked at each other. They reached a silent understanding that this might be their best chance at survival, and nodded their acceptance. "Sounds like fun. I'm in," Harry said in his low voice from behind them. "Well, it beats sniping enemies while standing next to the whining pansies of the fox unit. What the hell, sure," Cyrus agreed, and Alistair tagged along, "If everyone else is doing this, I guess so will I. I mean, what am I supposed to do, say no?"

"Excellent," Noblefur smiled, "Your first task will be raiding a Senkhari troop encampment south of here. Not much to it; just head down and cause as much chaos as you can, then hike back up here. Plan is for you to hit the camp tomorrow at sundown, just as the combat in Kishath will be dying down for the night. While our troops are resting, their reinforcements will be getting shredded. Questions about the mission, the Regiment, anything?" "Yeah, sure," Richard spoke up, "so you, a vulpine general, have no disrespect for wolves?" "Not in the slightest," the general answered sincerely, "A life is a life, and a talented soldier is a talented soldier, regardless of race. The soldiers of the Regiment all understand that as well, and they've been lobbying for integration for years." "True," Robert said, nodding his head. "Like I said, we're not all dickholes," Cyrus added. "However," Noblefur continued, "I'm still part of a vast minority among the military command. King Albert, Prince Albert, most of the other generals including the big names like Burnaby and Bloodcoat all greatly oppose uniting the races. It took all of The Regiment's might to get Silver Wind approved, and even that came close to being denied. Strangely enough, it was a fiery speech by that little vixen Princess Sasha that tipped the scales in our favor. ...Dale, are you quite alright? Good lord, male, you look like you just had an aneurysm."

It was true. Robert's eyes looked as though they were about to burst out of his skull and he struggled to get words out as he came to a sudden revelation, which Seth knew all too well, prompting him to cover his face with a paw and mutter "shite" under his breath. "T-that's where I know you from! Seth Black! I knew you sounded familiar," Dale said enthusiastically, trying not to burst out in laughter, "You're that clever little bastard of a wolf pup who climbed up the north face of Castle Hill to snog Princess Sasha!" That got Seth a slew of bewildered looks from everyone in the tent, and it was General Noblefur who broke the silence and asked what Dale was talking about. "Good fuckin'... ah, shit, look, I was like ten years old, and I don't know. And she kissed me. We didn't know what we were doin'," Seth sighed embarrassedly. Richard was flabbergasted, "You climbed the north face at ten years old? And kissed the princess?! Why didn't you ever tell us?" Seth sighed again, "Would you have actually believed me?" "That's highly illegal, but... Really, I'm just impressed. There were rumors of Sasha having fallen for a wolf like her mother did, but that's not at all what I was expecting," Noblefur said. "That's what I said when I caught him," Robert agreed, "I couldn't punish him for that. He earned that kiss. And lord was Sasha pissed when I told him he had to leave. Kickin' and screamin', yellin' that I was keeping her away from 'her love'. Something about the rights of a princess. It was actually hilarious; I'd never have thought I'd see a royal kit act like that."

Cyrus recovered from being bent over in thunderous laughter and stated succinctly, "You're my hero, Seth." Thoroughly mortified, Seth asked if they could leave, to which General Noblefur laughed and said that they were free to go, but to report back directly before and after missions, and that Robert would show them to their new equipment.

This is the part where, if this wasn't in a literary medium, a wacky costume montage would happen. You know, a couple of suits of armor that aren't quite right, and then further along in the sequence Richard walks out in a Chun Li outfit and Harry steps onto the screen in a chicken suit and they act like everything's normal? But this is indeed a novel-type-thing, so that won't happen. It doesn't work the same way visual art does. So, like, imagine the team in crazy outfits or something, I guess. ...I'll wait. ...HA HA, oh that was hilarious, right? Let's move on to that night, where the Fab Five (nope, not using that one again, either) were sitting around a campfire and Seth had just finished telling the story of him and Sasha at the behest of, well, everyone.

"You're still my hero, Seth," Cyrus laughed, "So you have a mate, right? Lilia? Something like that? Does she know where your mouth's been?" "Lydia doesn't know I've had any contact with royalty in my lifetime," Seth groaned. "Oh, come now, Seth, don't get your balls tied up in a knot from the name. We did only meet today," Cyrus grinned. Alistair spoke up and asked of Seth, "You hear what General Noblefur was saying? That rumor says she's still in love with a wolf? D'you think that's you?" "Nay, lad, I haven't seen her in years. She either found someone else, or the rumors are just rumors. Besides, even if it was me that'd just be bad for her. She couldn't run off with me; position's already taken," Seth declined. "Well, it'd make sense to me if she went for a wolf after ye," Harry laughed heartily, "A good wolf is hard to resist." "Yes! Exactly," Cyrus exclaimed, pouring liquor he had acquired from the less-discussed Regiment stores into five cups and passing them around to everyone, "Hear! Hear! To the life-changing experience of a wolf's tongue in your mouth!"

Cyrus, Harry, and Seth slammed back their drinks, and were followed by Alistair, who was mirroring Cyrus, and Richard, who didn't want to be the only one not having fun, despite not having that "life-changing" experience yet. "So Seth," Alistair asked shyly, "You would really turn down the princess if she still wanted you? I've heard she's the most beautiful girl in the world." "Yeah, yeah I would," Seth reinforced, "I'm happy with what I've got, and Lydia's a piece of art to look at, too." Cyrus gave Seth an "are you kidding me" glance and countered, "Seth, I respect your devotion to monogamy, I really do, but physical attractiveness is literally the worst argument against tossing the princess back onto her royal bedsheets. Have you seen this girl recently? If there weren't a thousand regulations that kept males from touching her and she didn't seem to brutally reject everyone that was stupid enough to try anyway, I'd gleefully go for a roll in the hay with her. Or seven." "And Seth," Richard said mischievously, "Unlike the rest of these dolts I've actually _seen_Lydia. She's pretty, sure, but she ain't no princess." "She is to me," Seth said quietly. "You see, now that's just adorable," Cyrus commented, "Why couldn't you have led off with that?"

"Hm," Harry hummed contemplatively, "Suppose she hasn't found another wolf. Maybe she's available. We could come back war heroes... But Seth's mated, Cyrus only likes wolves, Richard won't have figured out where to put it yet, and I'm far too much male for the castle to handle. Alistair, looks like it's you. Think you can get her?" "Me? No," Alistair said softly, smirking and looking away, obviously enjoying the thought of a "yes" though. Richard provided moral support, "Why not? You'll be a savior of Timbria. And you're a fox, so there's that. By the way, Harry, I do know where to put it." Seth, Harry, and Cyrus all made looks of doubt in response to that last point, and Cyrus went off of Richard's argument, "Right, just think about it. You go to Vulpinum after slaying half of Senkhar, the rest of us cast aside her feeble advances, and you walk over to her and ask for her paw. She swoons in awe of your presence, and when she regains control of herself, begs you to marry her. The king immediately supports such a powerful marriage, and wham, two days later you're makin' kits with the princess. Easy stuff."

Alistair giggled and responded, "Well, I don't know how Elizabeth would react to that..." Cyrus nearly jumped out of his seat, so to speak, "Alistair! Are you saying that you have a romance of your own? And you neglected to tell me?" "Well, I don't know," Alistair grinned, "She was just this girl who was in this riding class my parents were making me take-" "Wait," Cyrus interjected, "Was it bareback riding by any chance?" "No," a puzzled Alistair answered, "We had saddles." Cyrus sighed heavily, "You'll get the pun in a year or two. Continue." Alistair shrugged, "So we were riding together, and I told her about all my exploits. She seemed to like me, and I thought she was cute, and the last two classes we snuck into the stables and, y'know, kissed and stuff." Seth curiously asked, "And then?" to which the young fox stated, "Then I got arrested, and now I'm here."

"Well," Richard probed, "is she nice? Do you want to see her again?" "Yeah, I mean, I like her..." Then Seth weighed in, "Is she a good kisser? Did it feel right?" "Yes... I really enjoyed it..." Then it was Harry's turn, "Good tits and arse?" "Yeah, really pretty." Finally it was Cyrus' time to ask a question, "She a wolf by any chance?" "...No." The older fox sighed, "And I had so much hope for you. Though I can let that go, because you seem to already have a female. Forget Princess Sasha, when you get home, you head straight for her house and tell her about all your new exploits." "Or ask for a marriage," Richard said possibly-too-optimistically. "Or maybe just kiss her or something," Seth suggested. "Or be a real male and take her foxy arse to bed," Harry added. "OR do all those things after what I said because they're not mutually exclusive," Cyrus said, regaining control of the conversation, "Look, the point is that you go home and make her yours. Think you can do that?" "Yeah, I mean, it's Elizabeth, of course I can," Alistair assured him. "Perfect," the older fox said, and the group continued their banter into the night.

*****

The following night the newly formed Silver Wind team stood on a dune that overlooked their target encampment, gathering themselves before they attacked. They were all clad in silver armor that was thick enough to shield them from most attacks, but flexible enough to allow quick movement. The armor covered most of their bodies, and they wore helmets of a similar construction that completely shielded their faces, but still provided sufficient peripheral vision. How Timbria managed to craft this armor is a mystery for the ages. Literally, I don't know how a nation _that_incompetent pulled it off. While their armor was similar, their equipment differed. Seth carried two swords, finely crafted ones this time, which were sheathed in crisscrossing holsters on his back a la Leonardo; Richard stuck with the classic "sword and shield" combo, though he also possessed a much better sword as well as a slick silver heater shield; Harry had a great big battle axe; and Cyrus and Alistair both had a bow, a quiver of arrows, and two daggers sheathed in a belt around their hips.

"Well," Cyrus quipped, "That is definitely a Senkhari troop encampment. Shall we see if Timbria has made a good investment in giving us all this fancy armor?" "That'd beat the hell out o' standin' here an' talkin' about it," Harry answered impatiently, "Let's charge in there and bust some heads." "I don't think so," Seth, who had become the de facto leader, rebuked him, "Our new job as members of the Regiment is to cause as much trouble as possible without the enemy knowing what hit them, and my personal goal is to return to Vulpinum in one piece. Running in there, howling, and kicking doors down is going to accomplish neither of those." "Seth's right," Richard supported, "we go in quietly. We leave loudly." "Fine," Harry conceded, "But let's not waste too much time getting to the good part."

They stealthily moved down the dune to the camp, which on closer inspection was revealed to have just a low wooden wall around it, about 6 or 7 feet off the ground, and one reinforced entryway a little further down from where they were positioned.

"Y'know, Seth," Harry grumbled, "I don't see how we're getting' in withou' makin' noise." "Ah," Seth cocked his head, "that's because you're not thinking hard enough. Alistair, do you think you can move quietly enough to unlock that gate from the inside?" "Well, yeah," the small fox affirmed. Seth then looked back at Harry, "That wall's not that high. Could you get Alistair over it?" "I suppose," the big wolf said before dutifully depositing the red-furred rogue on the other side of the wall.

The other four moved to the entrance, and after only a few minutes, the door creaked open. They slipped through and found Alistair standing innocently in the middle of four Senkhari corpses before he shrugged, "They were in the way." Cyrus put his paws on his hips and shook his head, and Seth merely let out a "That'll do". "Alright boss-wolf," Cyrus questioned as the advanced into the camp, "we're inside. What now?" Seth looked around, and ordered, "Torches. Over there. What's a faster way to cause mischief and mayhem than setting shit on fire?" "Seth, I think we're going to be very good friends," Cyrus snickered, and Harry added on, "I can't well set shit on fire with a battleaxe." "I'm sure the Senkhari army won't sit and watch as everythin' around them's burning," Richard pointed out, "you'll get a chance to cleave a jackal or two, I promise ye." "Right," Seth tacked on, "Richard: you, Cyrus and I will start razing this place, and Harry and Alistair will keep watch." Alistair inquired from behind him, "What do we say if we see trouble?" "Lord, I dunno, 'holy fuck they're attacking us'?" "Will do," Harry acknowledged, "We'll just be here, y'know, playin' with ourselves while you do the fun stuff." "Oh calm down, Harry," Cyrus chided, "Think of all the bonus decapitations you'll get this way. Though, now that I think about it, shouldn't there be more, I don't know, guards?" "Uh, yeah, let's not think too hard about that," Seth said.

So the three pyros grabbed torches, lit them with some conveniently placed tinder, and started lighting every flammable object they could with the exception of things that looked like soldier's tents, per Richard's request. Part of Seth felt bad about doing this, and he knew Richard felt even worse, but they were both set in their "us or them" approach to their circumstances, and Seth thought that if getting home meant doing some unsavory things to the Senkhari, then so be it. Of course they didn't get nearly as far as they wanted to before Seth groaned as he heard Alistair's distinctive vulpine accent scream "Holy fuck they're attacking us!" "Ah," Cyrus quipped, "Well that went well. Shall we?"

Seth, Richard, and Cyrus scrambled over to help their two other teammates, who were already getting swarmed. Cyrus vaulted over a smoldering wooden bench before firing an arrow straight through the neck of a Senkhari soldier, which was just as badass as it sounded. Seth drew his swords and swirled through the enemy ranks, cutting down fennecs and coyotes like a lovesick furry Jedi. So more like a Sith I guess, though that doesn't really work either... Damn moral ambiguity, you're screwing up my similes. Anyhow, Richard had charged in with his shield, tossing an unprepared soldier to the ground like a ragdoll before getting all stabby and slicey with another pair of aggressors. This influx of support allowed Harry and Alistair to regroup, and they did so with panache, as the diminutive fox zipped between enemies so fast that some didn't even realize they had been stabbed until he was already gone, and the gargantuan wolf indeed cleaved two Senkhari jackals into a total of four pieces with one swing, proving Richard's prescience with a flourish. Even Harry gave a "not bad" look from under his helmet as he moved to take down his next target.

Before they could do any more damage, however, a booming voice yelled "STOP!" and the Senkhari pulled back, leaving the five Timbrians at the center of a circle in the middle of the camp, a scenario eerily similar to the one Seth and Richard got caught up in during the battle for Kishath. "Seth," Richard asked anxiously, "How exactly do you keep getting us into these situations?" "Are you joking? The first one was clearly your fault," Seth shot back as a mysterious figure came to the inside of the circle. He was a much taller than average fennec, with long bright red hair and a flowing maroon robe, who held a wooden staff of some kind. If you're picturing a less ridiculous delphox, you've basically got him pegged. The fennec spoke with the typical accent of his race, similar to a northeast American one, like maybe a Bostonian (ha. I bet you thought he was going to have a Middle Eastern accent, didn't you?), "Are you the males that destroyed half our force outside Kishath?" "Well, it was more like a quarter," Cyrus replied with sarcastic concern, to which Harry expanded, "Och, give credit where it's due. I'd say a third." The fennec was practically twitching, "How? Who are you?" "We're, uh, magical, uh, demons sent to, uh purify Senkhar," Richard pitifully fabricated. Seth jostled him, angrily whispering, "That was the best you could come up with?" "I don't lie well," Richard responded defensively. "Then shut up next time, you idiot," Seth said through gritted teeth.

"You're not demons," the not-delphox said matter-of-factly, "Your auras would tell me that. I sense good in you all, and great destiny in some... almost like... you would save Senkhar from oppression..." Cyrus started cracking up, "Oh, wow, that's your sales pitch to get us to switch sides? You have five killers who all have a personal stake in returning home, and you think our 'auras' are going to convince us to trade uniforms? No, the answer is no." "I'm not pitching anything. I am Commander Khaled Mith, top level Senkhari mage and officer in charge of this outpost, and I just want to know why good people are doing this. I understood Kishath. It was a battle. Things happen. But attacking an unprepared camp at night? Attempting to burn it to the ground? Why?" "We're Timbrians. We're kind of assholes to everyone," Cyrus confessed. "Look, Commander Mith," Seth said, taking a step forward, "I'm going to tell you my honest truth. I don't want to be here. But I have a wife in Timbria that I won't let myself die without seeing again, and standing between her and I right now is the Senkhari army, and if you don't quit, I and my party here will tear through you until you do." "You'd be selfish enough to slaughter hundreds of Senkhari with the same story as you just so you can be happy? You don't think all these males have wives and children as well? I thought you were the one who was going to liberate Senkhar from this menace. We all make mistakes," Mith sighed, facing the ground, "Is this how it's going to be then? You all could have been so much more... But if this is how it goes, I can't let you live."

He swung his staff, and it launched a fireball directly towards Seth, but Richard jumped in the way and deflected it with his shield, and Seth could've sworn he saw a blue... field emanating from it. The fireball flew back into the crowd of soldiers, surely taking some of them out of the fight, and Seth asked Richard incredulously how he knew he could do that. "Brilliant," Seth remarked after Richard responded with a simple "I didn't". After that, things devolved into a mess. Mith retreated back behind his lines and left his horde of now awakened soldiers to hold off the Fantastic Five (...nope. *sigh*) while he threw his fire magic at them from a distance. Somewhere along the line they had wandered into a boss fight, and they figured that the only way they were going to escape was if they took Mith down. Seth shouted that they couldn't slow down and needed to get to the fennec as quickly as possible before giving one of his trademark growls and lunging at an opponent, skewering him, and then seamlessly filleting another nearby.

Richard fought on next to Seth, crushing enemies with his shield and parrying with his sword, giving every ounce of effort he had to slice a path to Mith. Behind them, Alistair and Harry kept Cyrus covered as he sent a deluge of arrows toward the mage, which he easily burnt up, but also kept him from directing fire back at Seth and Richard. Several full minutes passed, and the team had almost broken through, but Cyrus had already depleted his quiver of arrows and was nearly out of Alistair's. Luckily, Seth and Richard were able to make one final push out of the circle of death, and the five tumbled out in front of Mith, at which point the mage spoke, "Before you attack me, I want to make a deal." "Speak quickly," Seth said impatiently. "I call my troops off, and the five of you take on just me. They've seen enough death tonight. If I win, and you're still alive, you serve Senkhar. If you're dead, then that's just as well. If I lose, my army surrenders to you. Is that fair?"

Seth nodded in affirmation, and the climax of the battle went underway. Mith planted his staff in the ground and raised a wall of fire around himself, which spewed fireballs in every direction. "There's no rhyme or reason to the attacks," Alistair shouted, "They just go everywhere!" "I'd bet that he's using all the energy he can muster to keep that wall of fire up. He can't even see us, much less launch an accurate attack," Richard hypothesized. Seth ordered Cyrus to try to shoot an arrow through the flaming field, but the arrows simply disintegrated on contact. A fireball blazed by Harry's head, and he yelled, "Well we can't sit around on our duffs dodging these things forever! We need to do something about this!"

Seth racked his brain for ideas, desperately searching for a way through the impenetrable shield. Arrows failed completely, and that meant melee weapons probably weren't an option either. He tried to think of things that fire could be weak to, but all that logical processing was tough to do when he was attempting to prevent himself from getting turned into an extra crispy wolf tender. Barring an impromptu hurricane made of Poseidon's anger and copious amounts of deus ex machina, a supply of water large enough to stifle the flames wasn't going to come from anywhere nearby, and he couldn't think of any way to smother the fire because come on. What was he gonna do, throw Harry at it? No one else seemed to be throwing out any intelligent ideas, so Seth tried to go as deep into his memory as he could, but concentrating on not being sublimated and not being absorbed into thought about Lydia (as he was wont to do) forced everything to fly by in rapid flashes. Lydia (of course he started there. You know this guy). Lydia and Seth's home. Lydia and the forge. Things Lydia and Seth did in the forge. Talking. Flirting. Sex on an anvil (they hadn't actually done that, but Seth had admittedly imagined it a few times since he heard the idea). Suggestion of sex on an anvil. Seamus. Seamus introducing Seth to the forge as a pup. Seamus teaching Seth. Fire. War. War _and_Fire. "Sometimes you have to fight fire with fire".

"Richard," Seth exclaimed, "Deflect the fireballs back into the wall! Maybe they can penetrate it!" Cyrus screamed as he dove out of the way of an incoming projectile, "Seriously? Why couldn't we think of this sooner? Do it, this might be the best chance we've got!" It took a few seconds for one to come Richard's way, and when it did, he completely missed, sending the ball up into the night sky. "DAMNIT," Richard shouted, "I'll get the next one." "Yep," Alistair said, on the verge of panicking, "We'll just keep... not dying!" A little bit later, Richard got another pitch, and this time his swing was right on the money. The burning, towering, homicidal money. The fireball careened toward the wall, made contact and... didn't really do much. "You are shitting me," Cyrus cried out, all five fighters steadily wearing thin. "Do it again," Seth commanded, "Maybe he can only take one or two." "Shouldn't be hard now that I've got the taste for it," Richard panted.

After two more tries, there was still no change. "The fire's just absorbing it, it's not breaking through," Alistair enlightened the rest of the team. "Got any other good ideas Seth? Maybe we can just throw ourselves at it," Harry remarked sarcastically. "Wait," Richard interjected, "Maybe I can. What if I deflected one before it left the wall? Then it couldn't be absorbed, it would be blown back in Mith's face." "Oh, I don't know, Richard," Cyrus began in a tone that became increasingly loud and protesting, "that plan might not be so great because it involves you STANDING RIGHT NEXT TO A GODDAMN WALL OF FUCKING FIRE." "Richard," Seth said unsurely. "I can do it." "Richard!" "Dammit, Seth! Catherine, Nell, Lily! And all you arses! I won't leave any of you now, so LET ME DO THIS!" "God go with you, Richard," Seth said resignedly.

Richard took a deep breath and approached the tower of flame, and put his shield right up against it. He wasn't sure how, but by pouring all of his strength into holding his shield there, he could prevent the fire from escaping. Suddenly, he felt something surge against his shield. He drained all the energy left in his body and forced the protrusion back, but the impact blew him back and burned almost all the way through his shield. A second later, he lied supine on the ground and propped himself up on his arms to see the result. The wall of fire was gone, and a smoking body lied in its former center. Richard breathed a sigh of relief, then collapsed back on the ground. The other four crowded around him, and Harry dragged him to his feet and let him put his full weight on his shoulders. "I told you I could do it," he choked out. Seth put his gloved paw on Richards shoulder and was about to tell him to never do that again when a weak voice came from Mith's body. "You... come... here..." the mage said, his burnt face staring right at Seth. Seth walked over and knelt down beside him, asking, almost growling, "What do you want?" "You," the dying fennec sputtered, "You will still save Senkhar. There... is good... in you. You... make... unity... is... destiny..." And with that, Mith tried in vain to hold onto breath, then fell into death. Since he knew it was what Richard would have done, Seth closed Mith's eyes and told him "Go with God" before returning to the others.

Richard was slowly regaining his strength as a Senkhari soldier removed his helmet, revealing himself to be a striped hyena, and fearlessly approached the group. He was a rather large specimen of his race, slightly smaller than Harry, he set down his weapon, a warhammer, and knelt before speaking in the Afro-Caribbean-like accent of the hyenas, "Males of Timbria, I am Yusuf Ibrahim, second in command of this force. On behalf of my unit, and per Commander Mith's bargain, we formally surrender to you. You may do with us as you please." "Richard," Seth deferred, "you won this battle. What would you have us do?" "Spare everyone," the battered wolf proclaimed, "We take them prisoner, but use our pull to make sure Timbria treats them well. And get off your knees; don't kneel to us." Yusuf looked up at Seth, and the lupine leader dictated, "You heard the male. Up. We defeated you; we're not your masters. All of you, leave your weapons and armor here and follow us back to our camp. We will do everything we can to make sure you are treated fairly." The hyena stood and thanked him for his clemency, and Seth extended a paw as a sign of goodwill, but Yusuf firmly stated, "I cannot shake your paw, not with your face covered." Seth removed his helmet, looked Yusuf in the eye, and said, "We have no disrespect for the Senkhari people. Your males have seen enough death tonight, and hopefully enough for the rest of their lives," and then he extended his paw once more. "I never thought I would see honor from a Timbrian," Yusuf relayed, grasping Seth's paw, "I hope I am proven wrong. And that this war ends quickly." "That is a sentiment I can get behind completely," Seth responded.

*****

"Let me get this straight," General Noblefur asked a few hours later, "You captured an entire_division_?!" Seth and the others looked around the building in the outer limits of Kishath which now served as the Timbrian headquarters, as the army had already secured about a quarter of the city (which was surprising to the team. Seriously, they had to ask for directions to find Noblefur.), and Cyrus replied, "Yeah, pretty much." The general leaned on a table in front of him and flatly asked, "How?" "Well," Seth began, "We started burning everything, and then they started attacking. There was this fennec wizard who did some intense fire magic, and Richard blew back one of his fireballs and burned him alive. They gave up after that. That's the short story anyway." Noblefur shook his head in disbelief, "Lad, I don't think I would believe that even if I was there. But I'm not going to question a victory like that. With males like you out there, I think we have a good chance of winning this war, and quickly too."

Richard spoke Seth's name urgently, and Seth added on, "Oh, right. As the team that took all these Senkhari prisoner we request that they be treated fairly and with respect." "Understood, Black. I'll do everything I can to make sure they're treated humanely, and that that bastard Bloodcoat doesn't get his fuckin' paws on them," Noblefur acknowledged, "We just need to find somewhere to put all these furs. There're so goddamn many... Anyway, there's a building across the street. It's been converted into a Regiment... rest area, if you will. There are some new Timbrian... erm, volunteers there as well. Leave your equipment here, and collect your pay from Sergeant Briar over there. We'll contact you in the morning about your next assignment. Until then, good work gentlemales."

A few minutes later, Team Fuck Bitches Get Money (There we go, I like that one. Takes too long to type though... Ugh...) was sitting around a table in the Regiment "rest area". There are quotes there because of course there would be quotes. The building appeared to be fairly expansive compared to the rest of the Kishath neighborhood that they were in, probably a reputable inn before it was repurposed by the Timbrian King's Regiment. There was a main room that looked akin to a tavern on the first floor, where TFBGM (nope, even worse) was located, and small rooms that looked rentable towards the back of it. There was also a staircase that led up to the upper level, which contained more of the same. Being a tavern-y area, it had a bar, and being a tavern-y area for VIP's, it had a nice bar, though Harry elected to grab a few pitchers (yeah. A few. The wolves were some big dudes) of beer, no matter what quality other stuff they had. At the back of the tavern-y area, there were some nice looking chairs and benches, sitting on which were nice looking, friendly vixens and wolfesses, who, for certain amounts of monetary compensation, could be made _very_friendly.

After a few minutes of joking and relaxing, Richard brought up the subject that was on everyone's minds but no one really wanted to talk about, "Do you all think we're fighting for the right side?" Luckily, the place was loud enough that they could discuss this without being overheard, and Cyrus replied with brutal honesty, "We're part of the Timbrian Army. Timbria. The racist assholes that make life a living hell for everyone they deal with, including themselves. Of course we're on the wrong side, but I don't see how getting up and defecting to Senkhar is going to help any of us right now." "I know," Richard sighed, "It's just... the wolf in the dunes, and... Mith, with all the shit he said... What if this_isn't_ where we're supposed to be?" "We don't have much of a choice, Richard," Seth countered, "Yeah, I mean, honestly Senkhar sounds like a much better place than Timbria. But let's suppose we defected, joined Senkhar and kicked Timbria's arses off the continent. Then we'd have done the 'good' thing, but we'd be stuck here. In Senkhar. Where there is a notable absence of my wife, your sisters, and Harry's pups. The best thing we can do is try to end this quickly, so everyone can go home." "Richard, male," Harry tossed in, "It's a war. No one comes out feelin' good abou' themselves. I may enjoy it a wee bit more than most, but 's all the same in the end. We need to do what we came to do, and go home."

Richard stared at the table, then slammed back his glass of beer, evidently hoping to drown his emotional conflict in the sudsy warm embrace of alcohol, prompting Harry to give him an "atta boy". "Looks like we're running low," Seth observed regarding their supply of ale, "shall I fetch more?" "Well I'm not gon' be drinkin' anymore," Harry declined, "Thinkin' about somethin' else. Never had a fox before, an' now I certainly have the money to get one," he explained, looking at the gold in his paw. "Now Harry," Cyrus interrupted, "I'm not going to stop you, but have you been inside a wolf before?" "Yeah, Cyrus, I didn't get two kids by touchin' meself," Harry replied with a bit of a temper. "Then you're going to find nothing but disappointment between a vixen's legs. Trust me," Cyrus advised. "You just have a wolf fetish. I think I'll decide for meself," Harry proclaimed, standing up a bit wobbly, then walking proudly over to a thin, lithe fox at the back of the room, and headed upstairs soon after. "Oh lord," Seth shook his head, "That's the one he picks? He's going to break the poor girl." "If she's smart she'll get him to let her on top," Cyrus said with equal concern as Richard continued to chug down the beer that was left, thoroughly out of place in the situation, and Alistair stared wistfully at the array of females at the other side of the room.

Cyrus looked back and noticed that last part, and asked Alistair, "Do you want one? You don't have to bother using your own money. I stole a lot from the Fox manor before I left so I can get one for you." "I know you took a lot of money," Alistair commented, "I know six different ways I could steal it off you right now." "Of course you do," Cyrus sighed, "So do you want to lose your virginity or not?" "I don't know," Alistair blushed, the redness blazing even through his already red fur, "Elizabeth..." "Will enjoy it immensely when you take her to bed eventually and know what you're doing. She doesn't have to know who you learned it from," Cyrus persisted, then changed his approach, "Look, Alistair, you're just a kit, and you've taken more lives than half of Timbria combined in the past few days. I worry about your mind. Take a girl to bed and let yourself unwind." Alistair anxiously tapped his finger on the table, then agreed. Before we advance, I would like to establish that this still was the equivalent of the Middle Ages, and there wasn't a thing in Timbrian law resembling "statutory rape".

So Cyrus bade Seth and Richard adieu, as he was looking for some action that night as well, and walked Alistair over to where a wolfess and a vixen were lying on a long bench, propped up on one arm and lying on their sides, facing them with their heads both directed to the middle of the bench. The fox was smaller than average, but still bigger than the one Harry was probably manhandling, with bright orange fur and shoulder-length blonde hair, and the wolf was a little more full-figured, not big, but curvy and buxom, with black fur and long brown hair. Both wore the revealing black dresses that were typical of practitioners of the oldest profession in Timbria, and both could feasibly be described as "hawt, bro". "You see that wolfess on the right," Cyrus questioned Alistair. "Yes," the small fox affirmed, "Is that the one you're putting me with?" "Absolutely not," Cyrus expressed ardently, "I was just saying that one is mine, and you can't have her. You're practicing for Elizabeth, remember? You get the vixen. Wait here a minute." Alistair frowned, "You really do have a fetish, don't you?" "And how," Cyrus guffawed.

Cyrus walked up to the fox prostitute (foxstitute?) and crouched in front of her as she checked him out, looking very intrigued, before asking an a far-too-innocent-for-her-line-of-work tone, "Oh! Why hello. Looking for a little companionship tonight? I could use the company." "As a matter of fact I am," Cyrus said jovially, "Just with the wolf next to you." The vixen's innocent façade immediately changed to an expression of anger, with a bit of low growling thrown in for good measure. The wolfess laughed at the girl's reaction to the stunt as Cyrus recovered, "However, before you attempt to claw my eyes out, my friend-" he pointed back at Alistair "-could indeed use your services tonight." He reached into his purse and placed a generous chunk of change into the hooker's paw, then whispered, "I think that should put you in a better mood. As for the kit, he's a war hero, one of the reasons that so many Timbrian troops are still alive. But you're going to be his first, so take care of him." "Oh. Thank you," the vixen smiled, and as she started to get up inquired, "Maybe we can still try that companionship some other time?" "No," Cyrus responded flatly, "Your fur isn't a shade of gray. I'm a male with very particular tastes." She made a look of disgust before quickly returning to her pleasant visage and seductively taking Alistair's paw and leading him upstairs.

The wolfess roared with laughter after Alistair and his companion were upstairs, and Cyrus took the vixen's spot on the bench, mimicking her position. The curvaceous wolfess rolled prone and rested her chin in her paws as she commented, "A wolf-only fox, hm? That can't get you very far in life." "Well," Cyrus looked up in faux-contemplation, "It got me into the Timbrian Army, so... yeah, I'd say you're about right." She chuckled again, "So, wolf-lover, would you like me tonight?" "Indeed," Cyrus said dreamily, "What is your name, milady?" The wolfess rolled her eyes, "Susan," she informed him, amused enough to play along. Cyrus gently pulled one of her paws from under her snout with one of his own and kissed it, softly praising her, "Ah, Susan. A verily gorgeous name, though it pales in comparison to its holder," he continued holding the paw as he bowed his head, "It is truly an honor, nay a privilege, to be in the presence of such radiant beauty." "Good lord, fox, I'm a professional," Susan groaned, "Are you going to give me my paw back?" "When I'm through with it," Cyrus said innocently before looking back cunningly at the wolf, "You see, Susan, I too am a professional." She gave him a "go on" look, and he kissed her paw again before declaring, "I am a professional wolfess seducer." "You don't need to seduce me. I'm a whore," the wolfess countered, breaking eye contact at the end and looking away. "I don't think that word does you nearly enough justice," Cyrus spoke, stroking the back of her paw with his thumb, "And as to the seduction, well, quite the contrary.

"You see, a rather risky wager my friends and I attempted today paid off, and I'm feeling lucky. So, I'd like to make a bet with you." Susan looked unsure, "What kind of bet?" "Of course. I'll explain," Cyrus told her, "We go upstairs and make love, as one normally does in this situation. If I fail to make you feel better than any other client you've been with, I swear I will pay you double your normal rate. If I'm the best you've ever had, though, I don't owe you anything. Fair?" Susan raised an eyebrow, "You're really that confident?" "I am." "Well, I guess I can't turn an offer like that down," the wolfess admitted, "Shall we?" They stood up and began walking to the staircase, but Susan stopped and commented, "You still haven't given me my paw back." Cyrus laughed and retorted, "That's because I'm still not done with it yet. Lead the way, beautiful."

*****

Meanwhile, as Cyrus was working his magic, Seth and Richard were preparing to turn in for the night, before Richard got Seth's attention, "Seth, can we, maybe, get a room together? I could use someone to talk to..." "Uh, sure, I guess. You're not... making a move on me, are you? I am a mated male," Seth answered. Richard sighed, "No, I am not making a move on you. Don't mistake me, Seth, I still want a wife, even if I don't know how I'm going to find one." Quick note on homosexuality in Timbria, now that it's come up: Timbria had sort of a "don't ask, don't tell" policy on being gay in general, and something akin to American medical marijuana legality for same-sex couples. It wasn't legal per se to be in a relationship with someone with a matching set of equipment, but if, say, two males or two females wanted to move in together, they could use essentially any excuse they wanted, even something painfully obvious like "we're just really good friends" and nobody would question it. From the privacy of their own home, where nobody could see them, they could hump and snuggle to their hearts' content, but public displays of affection, even a kiss or holding paws, were not something you wanted to be caught doing. It was one of those cases where the people were mostly fine with it but the government was not, like multiple issues in Timbria, and that's why Seth wouldn't have been all that fazed if Richard had come out and said he was attracted to him.

Anyway, we rejoin Seth and Richard in their room, which contained two beds, since not every room at the inn was made for one-night stands. Seth lied back on his bed, looking up at the ceiling, and asked Richard, who was sitting on the edge of his own, what exactly it was that he wanted to talk about. "Oh, uh, lots of things," Richard revealed, "That wolf in the desert mentioned being mated to a fox. Cyrus is only attracted to wolves. What do you think about it all? Do you still think about Sasha? If Lydia never happened, would you still want her?" "God, I don't know Richard," Seth responded, "I mean yeah, I think the whole system's stupid as hell, but I can't change that. Maybe if I wasn't forbidden to see her I never would have done all that shit to meet Sasha in the first place. And sure, sometimes I think about her, you know, where she is, who she's become... But it doesn't really matter, does it? I've changed since then, and I doubt she's the same childhood friend I used to know. And I'm happy with Lydia; I don't think I really need to spend my time chasing down a love that could never happen when I enjoy so much the one I already have."

Richard paused, then contested, "You say you could never change it, but I'm still thinking about what Mith said... About how we have a destiny... I mean, it makes sense, right? How else could we have survived this far already? Maybe we could change everything." "Richard," Seth spoke unsurely, "what are you saying? That I should go find Sasha when we get back?" "No, not at all," Richard clarified, "I think you and Lydia are good for each other. I'm just thinking about Cyrus and Matilda, or whoever he'll want by that time, or that dead wolf, who wouldn't have had to move if things were different... What if we could... wait... uh...holy shit! Holy shit holy shit holyshitholyshitholyshit!" Seth barked, "Good god, Richard, what the hell is wrong with you?!" "Seth... I think I can do magic." "What?!" Seth rolled over to face Richard, who went over to him and held his paw out. Suddenly, a flame appeared out of nowhere just above the palm of his paw.

Seth's jaw dropped straight through the floor, and then he looked up into his friend's face and exclaimed, "Holy shit, Richard! You can do magic!"