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Remember Yedder

The air was thick with dust as I weaved through the endless rows of dilapidated shacks with Taj, Laurent and Ekrem. There had been a brief sandstorm earlier in the day. All of us still had scarfs over our noses. Although the wind had stopped shortly after the sun set, the air was stagnant, made all the worse by the poor sanitation of the slums. Dried up rivers of filth were common, it's rancid scent still offending the noses of all that passed.

"How can you foxes stand to let your own citizens suffer in conditions like this?" Ekrem coughed, clutching his scarf close to his mouth.

"Tell me about a Kingdom or a Republic that doesn't have a place where the weak are trod upon and I'll show you a liar," I said, coughing up a wad of sandy spit. My lungs felt like they were full of glass.

"In the Alphate, even the lowest of Omegas wouldn't live like this," Ekrem snorted, "we would find a place for them in society. What good are your elections anyways, if they don't ensure the protection of the weak?"

Colonists technically didn't have voting rights as the colonies were directly ruled by a Governor appointed by the Doge and the Senate, or Dictator as the situation demands. As such, they didn't have a Senator to vote for. I knew the wretched wolf was expecting me to say that so he could rub my nose in it, so I didn't bring it up.

"Lupercal is famed for its slums, wolf. How are the humans and foxes who live there taken care of?"

"Those are untouched by the moon," he replied in a matter-of-fact tone. He brushed at his brown, linen trousers with a paw, scoffing a bit at his new commoner's outfit.

"How about your _human_Alpha Romulus? Was he also untouched by the moon?"

Ekrem briefly looked away, the only sign that I might have pinched a nerve, "He had many ministers who were touched by the moon."

"For someone who espoused peace between species, you seem to be taking a very condescending tone towards others."

"Peace through membership in the Great Pack. As the First Wolf would have wished it."

"Peace as long as we act exactly like wolves and do exactly as they say?"

"Peace as long as you behave correctly, yes."

"I'm sure the wolves were behaving correctly when they slaughtered my friends and neighbors as a kit," I rolled my eyes, "the Alphate cavalry who were galloping after us were just itching to make us members of a Great Pack. The fox tails decorating their harnesses and lances were from ferals, of course."

"Oh, Marco! Peace is beautiful, but war is a different paradigm. It's why I don't hold your little indulgences during the war against you," Ekrem cast a lecherous glare at Laurent, "taking trophies is part of the fun of war."

"That's it!" Laurent snapped, baring his fangs.

"Enough!" I placed my paw on Laurent's shoulder. His hackles lowered a bit, but he kept his ears folded back. "Let him bark."

"Listen to your Master, fox!" Ekrem grinned smugly. "Perhaps if you obey him enough, he'll let me have you for the night again!"

"Wolf, you will cease your barking this instant," Taj ordered fiercely. Despite the fact that she was wearing her slave dress, I knew from personal experience after undressing her one night that she had a dagger strapped to her thigh, "unless you wish to feel steel on your throat."

Ekrem blinked and one of his ears twitched, "Perhaps I should start howling for help. What would you do then?"

"We'll make you remember why you were so terrified of us before," I spat, just about ready to kill the wolf myself. If I hadn't had a nice puff on the pipe before heading out, my mood would certainly have been foul enough for me to do so, "now pipe down and keep walking. You'll find no sympathy in these parts."

Blessedly, we were finally left in silence as we padded through the narrow alleys making up the slums. We were far from the walls surrounding the inner city and I kept a close eye on the flickering torch-flames that hovered across the top. We weren't overtly doing anything suspicious, but I couldn't take any risks.

Soon the shacks began to diminish as we entered the outskirts of town. It would be another hour of wandering the lone, dusty Northward road, until we reached Ekrem's promised destination. Him and the fennecs had been very busy at night, promising vengeance and salvation, invoking the name of poor Yedder the whole while, and I was told that we had a very sizable mob pledged to our cause waiting for us in this dilapidated, rectangular stone building. It had a flat roof and a wide metal door that was beginning to show signs of rust, inside I could hear dull thuds hammering away, as if someone were working as quietly as they possibly could.

"Here's the siege workshop, Marco," Ekrem announced and banged on the metal door eight times quickly, followed by two slow notes.

Squeaking harshly, the door slowly began to rise, folding into the ceiling. A workshop was revealed with several long tables. Itri was here, overseeing collections of foxes, cheetahs, and fennecs were sanding and sawing at wooden posts, some exceptionally long and others short and round, like rungs. A stack of long ladders was lying against the far wall.

"By Canis..." I rubbed the bridge of my muzzle, "...did I really kidnap an Alphate noble just to have him build damned ladders!?"

"Careful Marco, your ignorance of siege warfare is showing," Ekrem snidely remarked as we stepped in. A thin fox in tattered clothes loosened his grip on a winch and the door shut behind us, trapping us in the dim workgroup, illuminated only by several dull candles on the tables.

"Any fool can build a ladder, dammit!"

"Any fool can build a ladder, correct," Ekrem waved two cheetahs away from a bench and ran his paw along one of the posts they were sanding, "but to build a ladder to precise measurements? Please tell me Marco, how tall are the walls of Sfox?"

I tried to make my best estimate, but the obnoxious wolf interrupted.

"Perhaps you can walk up to the wall and start measuring? I'm sure the guards would appreciate that!"

"I expected something a little more elaborate, that's all!" I picked up a rung, sniffed it and dropped it with disdain. "Battering rams, siege towers, sapping tunnels..."

"How much blasted wood do you think we have available here? We're getting all of this from ruined buildings, half of which was rotten and had to be thrown out!" Ekrem paused with a huff before continuing his rant. "Even if we did have wood, we sure as hell don't have time! Battering rams take time to make, sapping tunnels require more than one engineer to dig unless you want to bury us all in a mass grave, and I'm not even going to dignify your remark about siege towers with an answer! The walls are short enough to jump off of and land with merely a sprain!"

Sighing, I patted one of the workers on the head, a fennec kit who had only started his growth spurt. His tan fur was already starting to visibly gray and his eyes were hollow and dark, telling me all about a short, hard life. If my family had remained in Pest when the wolves came, no doubt I would have looked much like him.

"What are you fighting for, kit?" I asked him.

"I want to live," he whispered and quietly went back to sanding a rung.

"You'll be working with the nomads, kit, the same ones who raided the slums last month."

He didn't look away from his work, "Either the nomads will kill us or the foxes inside the walls will starve us."

I have never been one to cry and moan about the rules of warfare. As far as I'm concerned, those who snivel about where someone isn't allowed to hit them and when is just a sore loser. But if I had to set one rule in stone about warfare, it would be that kits wouldn't be allowed on the battlefield. It was demoralizing seeing the next generation on the front line, it didn't do anyone any good.

But life wasn't fair and so I had to break that rule. The kit had no future as is anyways.

Ekrem cleared his throat, "Sergeant Mar-"

"General!" I turned around with a snarl. "I'm in charge here."

"Actually..."

A door in the back swung open and a fennec wearing a green, velvet doublet walked out with a female cheetah clutching his arm, leaning over and nuzzling her face against the side of his muzzle.

"Well, my dear..." Izil cooed as he gave the feline a lick across the nose, "...fancy a life with my clan? Watching the sunset across the plains, resting in our arms in my tent, riding horses across the vast expanse...have you ever had a horse before?"

"No!" she gasped, purring excitedly. Her tail wrapped around his legs. "Tell me more, my mighty Chieftain!"

"In a minute, my dear," Izil's caramel eyes locked on me, "I have business to attend to."

He rubbed the cheetah on the face and tapped his nose against hers before he slowly walked towards me.

"I must admit, dear General, I had very little expectations for you when I set you loose!" Izil grabbed me by the shoulders and sniffed the side of my face.

"What can I say?" I returned the fennec's sniff, taking in his sandy scent. "When I'm given a challenge, I make it happen."

"It's a shame in some ways! I was looking forward to keeping you my prisoner for a bit longer!" Izil sighed and nodded towards the back door. "Shall we discuss matters of strategy in the back?"

All of us, save Taj who stayed behind to help Itri, followed the fennec, whose dusty tail was wagging happily like a playful kit, into a small room attached to the workshop. A metal table, well-worn with rust, was laying in the center of the room and behind it was an old mattress that reeked of mildew and a spicy combination of fennec and cheetah musk.

"Now then, dear General, I must express some concerns!" Izil grabbed an ancient, plastic chair and sat upon it by the table. He crossed his paws together, resting his chin atop his fingers. "I must admit that we lack experience in siege warfare-"

Ekrem snorted and slapped me on the shoulder, "You're not the only one!"

"...As I was saying, although we fennecs lack knowledge of the matter, I was under the impression that besieging a city took a matter of months!"

"Normally it woul-" I nearly tripped over something on the floor but was able to catch myself. It was a metal container that was bright red. "What the hell is that!?"

"Who cares?" Izil shook his head. "I understand that the mob will be using these ladders to assault the walls and that my clan will be providing cover fire. I know that the militia we're facing is unskilled and cowardly, but we will be facing a well-fed, energetic populace and if your mob fails to take the walls, this will have been a complete waste of time!"

I ran my paws along the warm metal of the container, it had a funny smell to it but I couldn't quite make it out, even when I rubbed my nose against it. Laurent suddenly spoke up, "Perhaps if you allowed us an extension on the deadline..."

"Dream on!" Izil laughed. "I would love to extend the deadline, truly, but the Clan Chiefs aren't as patient! Every day we spend waiting is another day with dwindling loot and diminishing morale! We're nomads, we're not used to being on one spot for too long and the Clan Chiefs will skin us alive if we try it!"

"Surely another week is possible!" Laurent objected.

"No, my dear wife!" Izil leaned across the table and narrowed his eyes. "They're already upset enough that I've let a prisoner and a concubine lead us on what they see as a wild goose chase. Any longer and I won't be a Chief anymore, one way or another!"

"You never told me you were married," Ekrem growled lustily.

Laurent's scent turned rotten with fear and he froze up, perhaps realizing he was in the same room as three different males who had taken him with various degrees of willingness.

"I'm in total agreement with your wife here, just so it's clear," Ekrem said, leaning up against the wall, "a proper siege takes time, but so long as we're not stupid about the assault, we should be able to pull it off. Sfox isn't Vulpezzia, we're not facing the Senatorial Guard here."

I sighed, "There's a chance that if we besiege it for too long that Philippe will catch wind and send the navy, with or without the army. Either way, if he can guarantee food shipments to Sfox, we'll have no chance of forcing them into starvation. As much as it pains me, we have to assault the walls."

"We're going to get a lot of poor chimera killed," Laurent said.

"They came here of their own accord."

There was a cap on the container, it was round and made of plastic not unlike the one the humans used to make Izil's chair. With a bit of effort, I was able to unscrew it off and a ghastly, acrid scent wafted into my nostrils. Against all common sense, I dipped my snout into the hole and took a strong sniff.

"Whoa!" I staggered back. My entire muzzle was burning along with my eyes and my head felt like it was floating off into the clouds. "What the hell is this stuff!?"

Ekrem stepped over me and gently waved his paw over the hole, taking a gentle whiff of the air, "It's something the ancient humans made from dragon's blood. I can't recall their name for it."

"Dragon's blood?" I asked. "So this stuff should burn easily?"

Ekrem screwed the cap on, "Yes, it's quite dangerous! There was a noble wolf in Eastern Anatolia that my family was on good terms with, he spent a fortune buying barrels of dragon's blood from the leopards!"

"Why?"

"You'd have to ask him, which would be a tad difficult!" Ekrem laughed. "One of his servants dropped a barrel and it rolled straight into a fireplace. Whole place went up in flames along with him!"

"That dangerous, hm?"

"His wine cellar survived though and it was gifted to my family! I've had enough wine to swish and spit to carry with me on a hundred journeys!"

"In bottle or amphoras?

"Glass bottles."

Perhaps it was the sniff I took of the substance, but my mind was burning red-hot. Some scholars claim that dragon's blood is the key to immortality. Personally, I always thought that was a load of bullshit, especially after Doge Reinhardt of the Hansa went blind after a lifetime of imbibing in it.

On the other hand, Reinhardt was a genius on par with his namesake, Reynard. If it weren't for him, the Grand Republic would have collapsed in the Summer Crisis, when the Hansa, Reinhardt's own home Republic, schemed to cede territory, including the valuable Kiel Canal, to the ursines.

Perhaps there was some value to dragon's blood...and I had more than a few ideas of what to use it for.

"Izil, I think I might have an idea to make this assault a bit less dangerous..."

The day had come and it was sweltering hot. During normal circumstances, this would be worth delaying the battle, I'd already had enough experience journeying across the desert to know how quickly one's tongue can dry and the heat had a bad habit of making people act stupid. It didn't help that the majority of our forces were an unruly mob.

But no, today it was a good thing. It would help with the signal.

For now though, Taj and I were enjoying a moment of peace, taking a gentle ride across the countryside atop two horses the fennecs had lent us. Taj was once again wearing her warrior's robes and displaying her bow and saber openly. With the distance we had between us and the city, there wasn't any chance of anyone raising the alarm before we were ready.

I pulled the reins back and my horse came to a halt, grunting. Down below us and on the horizon was Sfox, looking almost insignificant atop the rocky hill we were on. A gentle slope beneath our horse's hooves led down to a grove, where a few foxes were busy picking olives and taking them to the press. Between the grove and the city was an arid field of dried grass and rocks, a contrast to the life that teemed just below us and on the horizon.

"Beautiful..." I whispered wistfully.

"What are you talking about?" Taj asked as she brushed her brown mare's mane.

"You don't think it is?" I waved towards the view.

"When did you get so sentimental?" Taj's tail swished against the side of her horse. "It's creeping me out!"

"A little calm before the battle is healthy!"

I pulled out a metal pipe and unloaded my pouch into it. Unloading a tinderbox, I wrapped a firesteel around my paw and scraped a piece of flint, shooting sparks into the pipe until it was smoldering.

"Are you still smoking opium?"

I pressed the pipe to my lips and began puffing until smoke began to gently bellow, "No, this is good old tobacco! I've been gradually cutting back on the opium! Besides, tobacco helps keep the mind sharp during a battle!"

"You foxes are funny. I don't see the need for any silly pre-battle rituals! Battle is the only thing that keeps me calm!"

"Hm?" I ordered my horse to circle Taj as I gave her a seductive, predatory look. "Perhaps it's our rituals that make us so dangerous?"

"If I recall, you were the one who was captured, drugged, and sexually humiliated by fennecs."

"Humiliated? Is that what you think our nights together have been?"

"No, that's not what I was-"

I draw my blade and pointed it playfully at Taj. Izil had been kind enough to give me a scimitar for the battle, perhaps thinking I had no chance of possibly causing trouble now. As fine a blade as it was, it didn't impress Taj, who didn't even blink.

"Oh look! I've caught myself a cute fennec!"

Taj slapped the flat of my blade away, "Let's save it for after the battle."

"You're far too beautiful for me to wait that long for!"

"Well, you'll just have to make due," Taj slapped her reins and her horse began to slowly step forward, "don't worry, I'll bring you a present."

"Present?"

"It's time for the signal."

We both opened up our saddlebags and pulled out my little invention I thought up while under the influence of dragon's blood. I scraped sparks onto the soaked rag sticking out of the wine bottle and it instantly erupted in flames. I offered Taj a light for her bomb as well.

"Ready?" I asked.

Taj kicked her horse in the sides and galloped down the slope, bellowing a war-cry with her fire-bomb raised. I followed suit and the foxes below us took notice, staring at the two of us with petrified fear.

A cluster of olive trees burst into flames as Taj's bomb hit it and the flames quickly began to spread to nearby trees. I tried for something a bit more ambitious and tossed my bomb into a shed where the press was, creating a tiny explosion.

Taj cut down a fox with her sword as her mare galloped through the grove and I forced my horse to catch up with her.

She cackled and looked back at her growing wildfire, "Looks like mine's bigger, fox!"

As if on cue, the shed exploded, sending tentacles of flames and chunks of stone flying out in all directions. Burning splatters of olive oil spread across the entire grove and the whole place was quickly ablaze.

"You should have known better! Mine's big, red, and hot!"

"Ha! Dream on!"

We were approaching the rim of the grove when one fox, who must have had colossal balls, stood in our path with a pair of hedge clippers. He braced himself and thrust the point of the clippers forward, as if they were a pike.

I drew my saber and was about to raise it back for a swing, but instead I yelled out.

"Hey, you want a j-"

An arrow thumped into his forehead, knocking him to the ground moments before my horse trampled him. On my right, Taj lowered her husband and looked at me with a smile.

"Saved your life," she pressed her palm to her lips and blew me a kiss.

"I was going to offer him a job in the army!" I yelled. "Got my bodyguard that way, you know!"

"That's a good way to get killed!" she snapped back. "How the hell are you still alive!?"

"Only fools die!" my horse leaped over a stone fence. Behind us, past the dust cloud we kicked up, the olive grove was a glowing, orange beacon, a big enough signal for the attack. I gripped my feet against my horse's flank and leaned forward. "Last one there's a son of a cat!"

I kicked my horse and the world turned into a blur as we sped forward. I could hear Taj's mare's hoof-beats close behind, but I was too busy paying attention to what laid to our left.

A massive cloud of dust was barreling down the road towards Sfox. If you looked closely, you might notice a few fennecs on the fringe of it, dressed in their white robes and bows at the ready. If you squinted real hard, you might barely be able to notice several tiny arrows flying across the air and bouncing off the city walls. No matter how hard I looked, I couldn't see the guards, who were likely cowering behind the parapets, waiting for what they assumed was just a bog-standard fennec raid to be over.

Too bad that the guards weren't paying attention, otherwise they would have noticed the ragtag group of peasants trailing behind the dust, hoisting tall ladders above their heads. It's a shame that they didn't notice the dancing orange flames inside the cloud and think that perhaps that was a little strange for a daytime attack.

Too bad for them!

The fennecs drew closer and the arrows grew denser, until they suddenly ceased when the riders were almost just below the walls and they slowed down to a canter. The dust settled and I could see the fennecs circling around their designated torch-bearer, holding out their soaked rags for a light before galloping off to the side.

Flames erupted against the parapets and the fennecs began to withdraw. If the guards didn't notice before, they certainly knew that something was wrong now. Several burning foxes jumped up, screaming in agony, with some falling off the walls in their mad dash to douse their flames. The other guards frantically began to run around, unsure how to deal with this new threat. A few brave foxes started to unleash a counterattack, unleashing bolts and stones on the approaching mob, and they were strong enough to completely down one of the ladder squads.

Unfortunately for them, it wasn't enough. The ladders were raised and leaned against the rim of the still-burning walls. The desperate slum-dwellers wasted no time in beginning their ascent and I was pleasantly surprised to see a few fennec nomads dismount their horses to join them.

By now, I had rendezvoused with Clan Agulez. Izil was sitting atop his mount, wearing a steel mask in the shape of his face that covered everything except for his chin.

"General Marco!" Izil clapped his paws together. "I haven't been part of a battle this exciting in my entire life! Those wine bottle bombs, truly inspiring!"

"I told you there was nothing to fear!" I rubbed the side of my tired horse's neck.

The air was rank with horse-sweat and burning fur. It never smelled more sweet than now. Canis, I missed this.

A high-pitched shriek rang out over the warcries and the clash of steel. I turned to see one of the guards perform a running jump off the wall. An ear-shattering crack echoed through the plains as he landed a few feet away from us, writhing in pain with legs that were twisted in just about every direction imaginable. His pleas for us to help him were ignored.

"Chief Izil!" a fennec called out and when I turned to look at the source, I was surprised to see a familiar, exceptionally short fennec salute his forehead with the flat of his blade.

"At ease, Itri! Speak!"

Itri sheathed his saber and bowed, "I would like to scale the ladders and give the enemy hell!"

"Go forth!"

The short fennec dashed forward at lightning speed, clawing his way up the ladder, even over some members of the mob, until he reached the top and unsheathed both of his blades. He vanished behind the parapets and I heard several fox shrieks that were cut short.

Something tickled at the base of my tail and I yelped, turning around to see Taj atop her steed by my side, feeling up my rear.

"Any minute now..." Taj muttered.

"Hm?"

"Once Itri joins the fray, the battle is as good as over!"

"That good, huh?"

The gates slowly creaked open, revealing the inner city of Sfox and the mob going to town on the property and the townsfolk with clubs, pitchforks, and torches. It was not even noon, but the streets were already red with blood.

"So it would seem!" I smiled. "Alright, lets-"

Taj had already bolted towards the gate with her saber raised high.

"I'll see you when it's over, with your present!" Taj laughed. "You handsome son of a cat!"

At noontime, the battle was as good as over and I had barely even wet my blade. All throughout the city, the screams of victory and the lamentations of loss rang across like a violent chorus. Not a single stall remained intact in the marketplace and the mob was busy battering down any store or household that was audacious enough to bar their doors from their vengeance.

A new monument was erected in the town square where Yedder was hung so long ago, the charred corpse of the Governor, his flesh fused with the wooden stake he was tied to. Some less ambitious cheetahs and fennecs were tossing stones at the lifeless fox, while others were dragging off nobles into the alleyways kicking and screaming, either for ransom or for some more nefarious purpose.

I had assigned myself clean-up duty along with a few cheetahs, who were slightly more disciplined than the average member of the mob in that they could take basic orders such as, "Go there," "Break that," "Kill them."

There wasn't much left to clean up, mind you. Occasionally a guard who managed to escape the carnage and held far too much passion for his job, would jump out and attempt to avenge his masters, but the cheetahs were exceptionally effective at clubbing them straight in the snout. But I took the job for another reason.

"Here we are!" I hopped off my horse and tied his reins to a pole.

"Whats this place?" one of the cats grunted, pointing at the hanging sign attached to the pole. The sign had a pot full of gold painted onto it.

"A goldsmith that I placed an order with earlier."

"Gold?" both of the cheetahs exclaimed, their tails wagging playfully.

"Yes, gold, but only if he doesn't cooperate."

The cheetahs looked at me with blank eyes. One of them tightened his grip on the club.

Sighing, I face them, "I'll give you 100 ducats if he behaves."

The two of them looked at each other and nodded.

I banged my fist on the door, "This is General Marco, I'm here for my order!"

Nothing but silence returned my greeting.

Perhaps he was a little frightened? I couldn't exactly blame him, considering all the lovely post-battle incidents that were occurring right now. It didn't help that we were hearing noises in the house next door that sounded very much like someone getting choked to death. Either that or they were having very rough sex.

Diplomacy was the answer here. There was an old saying I heard once, "Speak softly and carry a big stick." I think it was one of the earliest fox Dictators who said it.

Regardless, the meaning was clear. I took one of the cheetah's clubs and pounded the butt of its handle on the door loudly.

"I'm here for my order! I know things are a little rough right now, but things will get much worse if you don't open the door!"

Once again, no reply.

I snapped my fingers and pointed at the cheetah whose club I took, "Alright! Find one of the fennecs who still have their firebombs!"

"Wait! Stop!" a muffled voice cried out from inside. I heard a wooden bar get lifted along with the rattle of a metal lock. "I-I'll open up! B-but I don't have an order for you, Gene-"

The door cracked open and a fox with eyes as gold as his finest wares peered out, with pupils that instantly dilated in fear.

"Giustin!? B-b-b-but-!" I stuck my foot in the doorway just before the goldsmith could slam the door on me.

"How rude!" one of my cheetahs read my mind and rammed his shoulder into the door, knocking the goldsmith back. I proudly stepped into the workshop, examining a golden chain hanging from a shelf with a sapphire the size of my fist dangling on it.

"I-I don't know what you want, but-!" the goldsmith backed himself up into the forge, which thankfully was not lit, knocking several fine tools onto the ground. His mouth slowly went agape. "No! No, it can't be!"

"Yes, the commission."

"Y-you can't be serious! I'm a loyal citizen of the Grand Republic! I-i-if I were to give you that, it would be treason!"

"Traitor today, hero tomorrow," I flicked the giant sapphire and watched it swing back and forth. "I think you'd truly wish to tell others that I was a customer."

"Tomorrow might never come! I-I-I can't!"

"Don't worry, you can tell them I made you do it under duress," I chucked, "might be better for my infamy anyway."

"I won't!"

"Give it up under duress? That's really up to you right now," I sniffed at the air, catching wind of the scent of a vixen. Her scent was distant, in the basement, but I could catch wind of her sharp musk and it instantly made my cock stiffen. She was in heat.

I patted one of the cheetahs on the shoulder, "I don't think his wife should be left out of this, why don't you and your friend go grab her?"

"No!" the goldsmith shouted, clutching at a smithing hammer. His paw was shaking and he was clearly thinking about using it to dash our skulls it but couldn't work up the nerve. "Don't! She has nothing to do with this."

"I've already told you, it's all up to you," I shrugged, "you could just hand over what I paid you for."

The goldsmith tossed the hammer onto the ground and walked off silently, returning seconds later with a tiny box.

"Just one demand," he said quietly. His ears were folded back and he was biting at his lips.

"This should be cute."

"Don't tell anyone I made it. No names."

"Deal."

The goldsmith placed the box in my paw and we quietly left without any further issues.

In the midst of the chaos, I found myself returning to the one place where I had some sense of stability from my time in Sfox: the apartment that I rented.

I ordered the cheetahs to stand guard with the promise of a bonus. I was glad to see Agnese was fine and sipping her cup of afternoon mint tea.

"Oh, Giustin! You look different!" she exclaimed as I walked through the lobby.

I winked and silently walked back to my room.

"That lovely fennec of yours is back already and she has a female friend! It's so nice of you to let your slaves date!" Agnese leaned back in her rocking chair. "I dated a fennec once! Her thighs were thin, but they could crush..."

As much as I found Agnese's stories amusing, I found myself with no patience for them at the moment. In fact, I think I was burning up a little from jealousy, which was something I'd never really had with a relationship before. Either my sexual relation was casual enough that I didn't really care if they slept around or they were someone who had no power in the relationship such as Galip.

I shoved the door open. A chorus of feminine moans greeted me and I stormed into the bedroom.

Taj had her legs wrapped around a red vixen, grinding her oozing, pink vagina against her while holding her wrists in a vice-like grip.

"Please...don't..." the vixen pleaded, squirming away slightly, giving me a good look at her slit, which was ebony in color.

"Mmm..." Taj's tan-furred tail swished as she crawled atop her prey and pressed her nose up against the vixen's neck, inhaling deeply, "...your scent says otherwise. It's okay to want this..."

"No..."

"Don't worry...I'll make it feel good..."

I couldn't deny being a bit aroused, but I decided to break the mood by loudly clearing my throat.

Taj craned her neck around, "Ah, Marco, I have you present right here! Join us!"

Licking the vixen's face, Taj continued, "Would you prefer a nice cock? Want him to knot you up and breed you?"

"Stop," the vixen suddenly ordered in a voice that was stoic and authoritarian, a sharp contrast to her previous submissive attitude. It was enough to make even Taj do a double-take, which allowed the vixen to escape Taj's thighs.

"Senatora Luce?" I froze, suddenly recognizing Taj's captive. It had been a long time since I last saw her and certainly under vastly different circumstances,

"Marco," she nodded and pointed towards her right eye, "I can see you haven't given up on your ambitions."

Smiling, I walked over to the vanity mirror and indulged my own image. The goldsmith's commission was in my right eye socket; a gold orb forged into the shape of an eyeball. A false eye, the grandest kind of eye imaginable, to make up for the one Philippe took from me.

"A Dictator must be clear-sighted in all regards," my claws clacked against the solid gold eye. "One eye must be pointed towards domestic affairs and the other towards external foes."

"Oh yes, Senatora. My ambitions are alive and well."