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For all her determination and resolve, Elizabeth's plans for finally dealing with Frand were quickly derailed. The morning after she'd made her pledge, childbirth came on her surprisingly and abruptly, and she followed the instinctive urge to go back to her darkened room, climb into bed, pull the sheets over her, and let her body take care of the rest. The birth itself was as smooth and automatic as she'd been told, but that was only the first part: lying there, exhausted, with a newborn baby mewling in her arms, in an instant her priorities changed as she clutched the young life to her chest and allowed it to become the center of her world. It was easy, somehow, to focus on the newborn girl and her constant needs, allowing the surrounding bleakness to fade away in the hope of a new life.

Frand, of course, had found out about the birth soon afterwards, and to Elizabeth's surprise didn't seem the slightest bit perturbed that she had delivered him a daughter instead of a son. He was suddenly exuberant, cradling the baby in his powerful arms with a surprising gentleness, beaming down at her with a huge smile on his muzzle. He proclaimed that the girl would be named Janis, which supposedly meant "gift from god," and it had taken a tremendous effort for Elizabeth not to laugh out loud at the cruel irony of his statement. In any normal family, a child such as that would never have been conceived - if anything, it was a "gift" from Frand himself in the worst sort of way. Elizabeth knew, though, that she couldn't let herself think that way about her daughter - while it was true that the circumstances of her conception were horrible, and that her father was just as much so, it wasn't her fault that she had been brought into the world through such cruelty.

Elizabeth accepted the name for her daughter, and her new role as mother, as a matter of duty, less to her parents and more to her new daughter. When Elizabeth looked down at the young girl, though, her fur pure white with little hint of Frand's ancestry, she flashed on a name she'd read in one of the books she'd been assigned from school: Esperanza, a name with a hint of exoticism to indicate some place far away from her father, and a name that was literally supposed to mean hope. Sometimes, when Frand wasn't around, she'd call her daughter by that preferred name, and renew her promise that the girl would be able to grow up without facing the fate that her mother had been subjected to. There was time before that, though, some years at least, and at that point it was enough just to care for her and bring her up in the best way that she knew, with the sort of love she doubted that her parents could provide.

Naomi and Natalie helped out a bit with her, at least, and for the first time in ages Elizabeth saw Naomi's eyes light up, for a short time at least, as she cradled Janis on her shoulder and rocked her gently to sleep. Of course, it was an expression that could only last, at most, into the evening - while Natalie was by then too pregnant for most of Frand's ministrations, and Elizabeth was being spared at least while the baby was still often attached to her breast, Naomi was once again alone on the receiving end of Frand's seemingly unwavering lust. Elizabeth knew that eventually her turn would come around again, and she would again endure it as well as she could, at least until she could set a plan into place that she was sure wouldn't fail. Before either of those things could happen, though, much to the surprise of everyone, the outside world intervened in a way that Elizabeth had never seen coming.

On the day it had transpired, one seemingly like any other in the household where she was trapped, Elizabeth had been sitting on the couch and watching some forgettable show on television when the police, out of the blue, finally came for Frand. It wasn't until later, after the chaos had subsided, that she would learn their reason for being there had nothing at all to do with the way that Frand treated his family, but much more how he provided for it: it wasn't just some moonshine still in the woods, but also the drug grow and the stash of illicit pain-killing pharmaceuticals awaiting delivery by his P.I. friend to various underground prescription-free dispensaries. One of the two had slipped up, sold something to an informant or an undercover deputy, and the investigation had built silently from there until the bored and eager small-town D.A. had felt he'd had enough evidence to push the credential-polishing case and sought out a warrant.

If the sheriff's department had followed the standard drug-agency protocols, and gone in with a dozen well-trained men in full combat gear, perhaps the situation would have been resolved calmly all around. The county sheriff, though, seemed to consider Frand too much of a backwoods chump to bother with such a budget-busting arrest, and instead sent a single squad car and a couple of deputies to take Frand in.

Elizabeth had looked up as Frand answered the door, her heart suddenly thudding in her chest at the sight of the two uniformed officers standing on the other side. One of them, obviously a longtime veteran of the department, had a pug-like face and a bit of a paunch pushing out over his uniform belt. The other was a short, solid-seeming woman with what looked to be some pomeranian ancestry, the long, plush fur puffing out her uniform a bit. Somehow, though, despite the professionally severe expression on her face, she had a certain sense of strong, rugged beauty about her. For whatever reason, seeing her there gave Elizabeth a flash of hope; not just that they might find some reason to haul Frand away and save them from their familial slavery, but that maybe, just maybe, there was hope that even a woman like her, after getting out from under Frand, could make something of her life... and even someday be able to protect others, and possibly make up for the way she'd failed to protect her own family, including herself. A long shot, to be true, but just seeing the deputies there, after so many dark times that they had long since become the new routine, made her perk up at least a little.

"Frand?" the male deputy asked, in a deep, booming voice. "You Frand?"

"Yeah, who else would I be?" Frand replied, half-snarling at the intruding officers. "Tell me what the hell you want, or get off my property."

In response, the female deputy unsnapped something on her belt and removed a pair of handcuffs, the metal glinting in the sunlight as the male officer slid out his baton. "Sir, you are under arrest."

"Bullshit!" Frand growled, the fur on his neck puffing out as he drew himself up to his full height, seeming to loom over both of them. "This is my land, and my family, and you're crazy if you think you're taking me away."

The female officer drew back a little, clearly nervous, but the male simply puffed up his own chest, staring Frand down. "And if you think that it's a good idea to resist arrest, you're even stupider than you look. Now turn around so my partner can cuff you, or you can get cuffed on the ground with my baton in your ass."

"What?"

"Look, shitstain, you have the right to rem-"

Before he could finish the word, though, Frand's arm was already in motion, darting out from his side and swinging in with uncanny precision at the officer's neck. The officer's eyes goggled at the motion, and he moved to raise his baton up, but before it was even level with his chest Frand had already made contact, his claws out and slashing savagely at the deputy's neck. The man fell back, making a horrid gasping, gurgling noise, the baton clattering to the floor as he wrapped both hands around the front of his neck as bright blood spurted out through his fingers and down the front of his uniform shirt. Even as the man started to fall forward, Frand grabbed a handful of his uniform shirt and tossed him inside, where he crumpled just inside the doorway.

The female deputy, though, despite her puffy appearance, didn't hesitate for a moment - by the time Frand's arm was headed in her direction, the handcuffs were clattering to the ground, and her revolver was already clear of its holster and swinging over to cover him. Frand's hand slammed into her wrist, but she brought her own hand down in a chopping motion onto the back of Frand's, hard enough that something cracked audibly. Elizabeth didn't know whose hand the sound had come from, but Frand barked angrily and shoved the deputy away, causing her to stumble back a few steps, her gun hand wavering wildly as she desperately tried to steady herself. The impact, though, didn't stop her from pulling the trigger.

The shots that rang out were practically deafening within the small house, and Elizabeth yowled in shock and clapped her hands over her ears as the reverberations echoed through the room. The long-barreled revolver flashed once, twice, three times, a chunk of wood flying away from the doorframe in an angry puff of dust, and another divot flying up from the blasted carpet. Elizabeth couldn't see where the third shot went, though, just the deputy standing there, hands shaking, as Frand's own hands pulled back in towards his body. Cautiously uncovering her ears, searching desperately for the sound of her child in distress from the sudden noise, Elizabeth instead heard a sound that she couldn't recall hearing ever before.

Frand was whimpering - a high-pitched, warbling whine that was a mere shadow of his earlier bellowing. Slowly, his legs began to shake and give way, and he fell to his knees, his elbows tucked into his sides as he clutched at wherever the deputy had shot him. For a moment, the house was silent save for the eerie sound of Frand's keening cry. Then the deputy shook her head and sprang back into action, leveling the gun at Frand and backing away back to her patrol car while yelling frantically into her radio, for backup, ambulances, SWAT, anyone and everyone. When she returned from the car, she was awkwardly holding an assault rifle that looked somehow at least one size too big for her, but not so awkwardly that she couldn't keep the dark, menacing barrel aimed squarely at Frand's head from several feet away. Frand, though, seemed oblivious to it all, keening and crying as blood began to trickle down the leg of his pants and slowly soak into the carpet below.

What followed next was a strange, slow sort of officiated, procedural chaos, ushered in by the procession of lights and sirens that made their way up the remote, winding country road. Soon, the house was crowded with people wearing jackets with a half-dozen different lettered acronyms emblazoned across the back, hauling and prying and dusting and upending as Janis - Esperanza - watched with wide, curious eyes from her vantage point cradled in Elizabeth's tight, worried embrace. Some of the people came over to them, asking courteous but pointed questions, although the answers made the picture quickly become clear - that they were all victims rather than co-conspirators, under Frand's totalitarian control and completely in the dark about the things he'd become involved in, his bid to both support them and constantly maintain his presence around them to ensure that none of them could stray. They had all played a part, willing or otherwise, in Frand's terrifying version of family, but they would not share in his culpability or punishment; this time, Frand would fall alone.

--

"Hey, Carl, you wouldn't believe the shit I just heard on the scanner." Ted Calloran leaned his head into Carlton's office, tie askew and half-loosened atop his work shirt, and energetic husky tail manically twitching away like it always was.

"Yeah?" Carlton had his feet up on his desk, victims of another long day - this time trekking on foot into some illegal hand-built log cabin in the backwoods to do a welfare check on an elderly grandma who refused to go into the city and reside in a senior community. Contrary to her family's concern, she'd been quite alert and energetic, with more than enough muscle mass to whirl a cast-iron pot over her head like a hammer-throwing olympian as she chased Carlton back into the forest, coupling the chase with a litany of bellowed curse words, some of which Carlton was sure hadn't been uttered in a generation. He'd wearily told the relieved family that their gram was as hale and hearty as a woman half her age, but that they might want to put off visiting until she'd had a chance to calm down a bit. Overall, the outcome had been good, but it had been more than enough to handle for that day.

"You remember that case a while back? You know, the one with the psycho woodsman, big bad wolf-type, knocking up his own daughter and shit?"

Of course Carlton remembered. After all, when you had a case that was your biggest, most gut-wrenching failure to date, it was hard to forget it. "Just get to the point, Ted."

"Yeah, sure." Ted paused for what he, at least, considered to be dramatic effect, but sped it up when Carlton growled at him impatiently. "That fuckin' guy, screwing his own family wasn't all he was doing. Pills, nip, all kinds of stuff. They even said the guy he was running with had some bodies on him. They send a patrol car to pick him up, and the woodsman - he totally freaks and all but rips a deputy's throat out. I mean, yeah, that part's a tragedy and shit, last I heard the deputy was in an ambulance and just about gone, but I haven't even gotten to the good part yet."

"There's a good part in all this?" Carlton replied, not really wanting to think about whether the deputy was the only casualty. If Frand had subsequently turned on his family...

"Yeah, well, I mean, not good for the suspect, but..."

"Ted..."

"Okay, okay. Get this: he goes for the other deputy, some random chick who it didn't sound like ever pulled her gun in anger before in her life, but she just starts popping shots off - and out of every part of the guy's giant meathead body, she manages to nail him square in the cojones like a fucking sharpshooter. Man, right in his nuts! Poetic justice, huh? For a guy with his, ah, proclivities, you know that's gotta hurt him more than getting shot in the fuckin' head, am I right?"

Carlton wasn't sure he quite agreed with his colleague's phrasing, but the handful of sentences had suddenly, miraculously made his tense, draining day considerably brighter. There was one question, though, one crucial question, that he still needed to ask.

"And... his family?"

"His kids and stuff? Sounded like they were all fine - none of the other bullets hit anything important. Well, I mean... fine's probably a relative term, coming out of that household, but hey, still better than the alternative, right?"

"Ted, anyone ever tell you you're a callous motherfucker?"

"Yeah, just every day, around here. Seriously, though, you gotta think of something better to call me when I'm pissin' you off. I mean, we get actual cases like that around here, you know?"

"Go back to your office, Ted. Seriously. Thanks for the heads-up, though."

Ted turned and walked back through the door, but then poked his head back in for a moment. "You need any help with this one? I know you got kinda involved, so if you need some distance, I can take the follow-up..."

Carlton just shook his head. As much as Ted was a bit too... direct while talking to his colleagues, his actual bedside manner with victims was a night-and-day difference. Even so, Carlton knew that this was one case he couldn't let go of until it was all the way over.

"Nah... I got this one."

"Suit yourself." The door closed with a click, and Carlton turned back to his desk.

He slid open one of the drawers. The gun was still there, but he turned past it to flip through the drawer's other contents. Under a random case folder, he found what he was looking for. It wasn't that great of a camera, just a basic digital point-and-shoot that hadn't dented his government salary too much, but was still better than the crappy pinhole cam on his work-issue flip-phone. As opposed to the gun, though, it was the kind of shooting that he greatly favored, and that crassly-relayed, serendipitous intervention against Frand's disturbing plans meant that the time to take a picture would soon be close at hand. He'd even cleared a space on the wall, at the time seemingly out of some vain hope, but now he could look at that empty space with anticipation instead of anger.

--

Now that the first night was over, and most of the fears and unknowns had been put to rest, the remainder of Jessica's heat went significantly smoother. It was true that she was still nervous enough to turn down any offers of the more energetic style of pursuit, and a few boys who she thought were too aggressive were sent away with the shake of her head, but many of the boys had, by that point, learned that the slower, gentler methods of mating could be just as much fun, especially if they inspired their partners to be reciprocally enthusiastic. It was with that more patient group that Jessica spent much of her heat, along with some of the older men when there weren't any younger ones available - once you were adult enough for the rituals, you were adult enough for everyone, and while people spent the most time with those of their own group, there was more than a little overlap. While Jessica, given her history, had been apprehensive about such a thing, their teacher had pointed out some of the advantages: if young men spent some time with more experienced women, they could be directly guided into how to pleasure a woman without having to go through a lot of trial and error, and vice versa; more experienced men could help women realize their full sexual potential and response.

Jessica still hadn't been sure about the idea, though, and big, beefy men who reminded her at all of Frand were still far too intimidating for her to accept their advances. Some of the others, though, were considerably less intimidating, and with some additional coaxing from Mautaye (and direct demonstrations of such an experience next to her), it was something that she did eventually consider. The storyteller Jaenesa, for instance: lithe and energetic, with a joyful personality that made him seem far younger than his years, he had gently courted her during one of the evening rituals, and once she had accepted, her vague reluctance had quickly melted away as Jaenesa demonstrated the ways in which his talented hands could be used beyond the elaborate gestures that accompanied his stories. After that, she'd chanced being with a few others of similar build and character, marveling at their experienced composure that left her completely at ease, even as they brought her to new heights of pleasure that more that made up for whatever ebb of vigor their years might have posed. Toward the end of her heat, she'd even "shared" one of the ritual matings with Benoit himself, something that the other girls seemed halfway in awe of, as he apparently mostly mated with the small group of women he'd came up with, and his choice of another was seen as something of an honor. In response to their wide-eyed queries, she'd made up a suitably impressive story melded together from her other experiences in order to satisfy their imagined expectations. It seemed easier, somehow, than trying to explain to them the emotions behind what had actually happened: the fact that the closest Benoit's erection got to her was resting lightly against the fur on her belly, as he'd spent the duration of the "mating" hugging her close to his chest, gently stroking a hand along her back, and breathing words of love and comfort into her ear. As unusual as it was, what with both of them being naked and so close to being intimate, Benoit's intense outpouring of loving emotion had seemed, strangely enough, somehow more paternal than anything Frand had ever done. Whether it was due to the prophecy or not, being there in that embrace, with him holding her close like his life depended on it, valuing her own safety and happiness over his own instinctual pleasures... it had almost moved her to tears, and not in a bad way. Maybe, she'd thought, this was how Frand was supposed to have been to them, if everything had gone right - not naked, of course, but if his mind hadn't been screwed up somehow, either by his upbringing or just because it was from the start, maybe they could have had that right kind of love instead of the charged, violent opposites of beating and breeding.

As much as her experience of being in heat ultimately revolved around the nights spent mating with various men, though, oddly enough it was the girls in her own group that she found herself growing rapidly much closer to. Partly, it was due to the nature of the acts: gentle or not, especially with the young men her age, they were much less about talking or relating than they were about direct, intimate physicality; if anything was talking, it was their bodies much more than their voices. Once the knot was in, of course, everything quickly dissolved into blissful, incoherent pleasure, and by the time either of them had recovered to the point to consider realistically carrying on much of a conversation, the man was already just about ready to pull out and move on to the next encounter. As a result, her experiences with men became gradually broader, but not very deep; the fact that they were discouraged from interacting at length with each other outside of the rituals while the women were in heat, to prevent any accidental, unauthorized dalliances, only amplified that phenomenon. Once the heat was over and things were relaxed, she would learn a bit more about some of them, but during her heat all she really knew about Sam, for instance, were the few words they'd exchanged before becoming intimate, and the fact that he was extra-cuddly - not exactly the most in-depth sort of knowledge, but about the most that could be expected from such a brief, direct encounter.

The girls - women - in her group, though, were around her constantly, and as they one by one came into heat around her, Jessica was soon able to see all of them at their most intimate. With the boys, everything was so close and direct that it was impossible to divide the intertwined experiences of their own mingled actions and reactions. During the rituals, though, it was common for the individual matings not to always sync up, and so it was a regular enough occurrence for one of them to be recuperating from a recent mating while another was engaged in one nearby - and for some reason, consciously or not, the girls in her group often seemed to end up together, along with whatever men they'd roped in to join them. In those situations, she could see both partners much more clearly, but even then the responses of the other women tended to be more memorable - after all, the men moved through and moved on, but the women were there, together, for the duration. As a result, she soon became familiar with the pleasures and desires of her friends, the way they moved and bucked and moaned, their similarities and differences: the way Mautaye's moans slid up in pitch at the end as she got close to the edge, for instance, or the way that Teilen gave the cutest little surprised yip the moment she was knotted, or the way that Callie's body shuddered back and forth for a moment, almost like she was shaking herself dry after a shower, at the moment her climax overtook her. One on occasion, even, Jessica and Naihale had somehow been oppositely synced entirely, and they'd sat by the fire and swapped partners between them the entire evening, one taking on the gentleman in question while the other rested, watching admiringly and offering the occasional word - or touch - of encouragement. Jessica had gone second in the arrangement, and it had been undeniably exhilarating to watch Naihale thoroughly enjoying her lover, thrilling with anticipation as she watched, imagining it all happening to herself even while knowing that such a dream would very soon become a reality. Interestingly enough, the experience was almost as intriguing when she was the one partnered up, the knowledge that her friend was watching her every reaction and listening to every yelp and moan only served to intensify what she was feeling, and her matings were even more vocal and passionate than usual as her heat-focused mind reveled in the notion of letting her friend somehow share in the pleasure she was feeling.

The reverberations of that shared experience, though, didn't end at the ritual area's gates. Being naked as they were, even before very little of each other had been left to the imagination, and none whatsoever once the engorgement of heat had brought even the one last generally private part of them clearly and vividly into view. Being together for the ritual, though, had evaporated any last boundaries, as they shared in the most intimate of experiences, and not just watching as they interacted with men - during the breaks between matings, with the hormones pulsing through them removing any possible inhibitions, it had seemed only natural to cuddle and nuzzle and pet each other to keep their mutual excitement thrumming at maximum intensity while the nearby males swapped in and out or took time to recharge.

Taken all together, though, that shared intimacy resulted in the last barriers to their knowledge of each other falling away - more than friends, more than sisters, breeding together meant that there were now no secrets between them, either in body or in spirit. The deepest, most passionate desires, the type that most women only hinted at to their closest confidantes, were now laid bare, and as a result Jessica felt connected to her group in a way that was closer than she'd ever felt before with anyone, even Elizabeth. Back when they had been together, while they had been close, Jessica had still felt the need to hold her emotions back a little, as they both had a lot to bear and she didn't want her sister to have to take on more emotions than she could handle. Midway through the strong emotions of her heat, though, curled up safe in Mautaye's arms, it had all suddenly come flooding out, years and years of tearful trauma, listened to by compassionate ears and arms that held her blameless and supported her until she was cheerful again. Thankful for their support, Jessica redoubled her efforts to take care of the others' emotional well-being when she could, and an almost instinctive mutualism developed between them. Knowing each other so well, they soon began to anticipate each other's basic needs, always ready to provided a needed word of encouragement, or a reassuring touch, or someone to cuddle with - and in times when there were certain lingering feelings after the mating rituals had finished, a hand or muzzle or tongue tucked into just the right place to release that tension. After the free expression of sexuality in the rituals and their unquestioned closeness, such things seemed nearly like second nature, and unlike outside contact with boys there seemed to be no rules against it - in fact, when one of the women checked in on them and found a few of them comforting each other in that way, she merely nodded and smiled in encouragement before leaving them to it. Not that Jessica minded at all - while the mating rituals brought the most intense ecstasy, they couldn't rival the closeness and caring and love that she felt with her newfound friends. And while she knew that it would have been inappropriate to share such encounters with her actual sisters, in a weird sort of way, she almost wished that she'd been able to share that kind of love with her sister in place of the alternative - how much better it would have been for her sister's first introduction into adulthood to be one of love and mutuality, instead of a trauma to endure.

Her sister... how long had it been since she'd run away? Months, so many months, and even now, even as happy as she was, there was still a pall hanging over her as the reality of what her sister must have been going through continued to tug at her. What had she endured in the interim? How many times, over the weeks and months, had her father forced himself on her? Had she really gotten pregnant? Had a baby? Even with her supportive friends constantly around her, Jessica could still feel echoes of the trauma that still haunted her, and would for every day she had to worry what her sister was being forced to go through. Even with such a comfortable existence, she missed her sister, and desperately wanted to see her face, hear her voice, know that she was still at least alive and somehow okay.

She made it through her heat, and back into her more usual routine, enjoying the comfort of her friends and the complete and mutual acceptance into the strangely peaceful ways of tribal existence, making her way through even as the pining and worry for her sisters continued to be felt, more and more keenly, within her heart. As she looked questioningly towards the gate one day, though, thinking about the fates of her sisters, she had no way of knowing that her father was at that moment thrashing about handcuffed to a surgical gurney, shrieking in agonizing pain, and that as a result at least one member of her family was suddenly far closer than she could have imagined.

--

Although Elizabeth didn't realize it at the time, one most of the chaos had passed, she found herself sitting in the same chair, in front of same desk, where Frand had faced the first real challenge to his authority.

Over the subsequent days, things had become temporarily upended. With police sealing the house as a crime scene, and most of their money seized as the result of criminal proceeds, a charitable organization had arranged for them to be put up at a motel on the outskirts of the city. It wasn't much, just a couple of queen-size beds, a microwave, a mini-fridge and an outdated TV, but compared to the chaos and trauma that their house represented, it was by comparison an oasis of calm that allowed them to recuperate. They'd brought most of their meager belongings that hadn't been confiscated; they had at least been allowed to take the crib, where Esperanza played happily in a corner of the room, thankfully oblivious to the confusion, anger and despair that hung over the rest of them. Natalie had called a clinic, and hung up bleakly when she learned that her pregnancy was too far along for them to legally perform an abortion, and Naomi, forced apart from her codependent relationship with Frand, was close to catatonic, too beside herself with grief to fully understand the freedom that had finally been thrust upon her. Elizabeth, being the only one of them in a condition to properly function - indignant rage, if properly channeled, was apparently not particularly disabling - kept things going for a few days, but knew that with no money and little prospects, they would soon be in trouble. On the third day, though, Carlton Andrews had shown up, actually crying in relief at their safety, and had hugged each one of them in turn while alternately profusely apologizing for his failure to get Frand away from them, and promising to use every resource his office had at its disposal to get them back on their feet and into a situation where they all could thrive.

As a result, Elizabeth had sat in a boring but clean waiting room, studying one of her textbooks, while Carlton had called first Naomi, and then Natalie, into his office. Natalie had left looking somewhat more relieved, and Naomi had seemed largely unchanged, although when she returned to the waiting room she clung to Natalie with a little bit of extra vigor. Then it had been Elizabeth's turn to sit in that very same chair, looking over at Carlton with undisguised trepidation as he began to speak, cradling Esperanza's sleeping form close to her chest.

For his part, the man in front of her looked obviously chagrined, at first seeming to have a hard time meeting her eyes. That was probably to be expected - after all, for all of the promises the man had made, or at least insinuated, he hadn't really been able to help them, not in a meaningful way. Not in a way that had taken Frand way from them, not in a way that had prevented him from continuing to rape her, or kidnapping and raping her older sister.

Not that she could blame him - after all, she'd been the one who had turned down the meager, insufficient help he was able to offer. He was just one guy, and not a cop, not a person with a gun and a badge who really could have shut her father down, just an office worker with forms and business cards and not the kind of real authority that could have mattered. He'd used all the authority that he'd had, and been laughed out of the room by a bunch of idiots that cared more about Frand than the family he used. They hadn't even cared about them, the people with authority, when they'd come to take him down - just the substances he happened to have and the fact that he savaged a cop. To those people, all they were was just collateral damage, someone to maybe point to in a courtroom as one more minor aggravating factor during sentencing. For all his failings, the guy in front of her was one of the very few in the entire ordeal who really seemed to care what happened to them. And for that reason alone, she tried to put a smile on her face, and worked as hard as she could not to judge the man for what he had failed to do, but what he might possibly still be able to.

"I'm sorry we couldn't be having this conversation in better circumstances, or with better outcomes," he said, trying for a moment to meet her gaze before his eyes returned to the bare surface of the desk in front of him. "I screwed up, big time. I should have hung around until he showed, up, tried to catch him in the act... I don't know. I got chewed out for overstepping my bounds when I got back anyway, was told to bury the case for a while and stay away so the department wouldn't get sued for harassment or anything. To my shame, that's what I did, even though I know I should have stuck with it. Because I didn't, what happened to Natalie... whether it's true or not, I can't help but feel like it's my fault somehow, and she didn't seem very inclined to let me make it up to her. Maybe, though, you might..."

He trailed off, his hands fidgeting along the edge of the desk, still not quite able to really look at her - he glanced up, but when he caught sight of the baby in her arms, his eyes darted back down as his ears dipped in shame. "Er... I guess I should tell you what's happening, even though the first part isn't exactly good news. That has to do with your house - the thing was never permitted and was technically built on state-owned land that no one ever bothered to check, and even if it hadn't been, because of all the drugs the cops want to seize it as an illegal asset of drug trafficking. You can try and fight it, but it doesn't sound like either your mom or your sister really want to - for obvious reasons, they don't exactly have fond memories of the place, and I doubt you do..."

Elizabeth thought back to the place - and the fact that, as she went from room to room, every single one of them came with a memory of Frand taking her. The shower stall, her parents' bed, her own bed, the couch, the kitchen table, the roughly-stuccoed wall in the hallway... it didn't take more than a moment's thought to realize that they were probably right. Every part of that place was in some way tainted in her memory by Frand's actions.

"The new TV was nice. Everything else could burn to the ground and I wouldn't miss it." She paused, glancing down at Esperanza, who was somehow still blissfully asleep despite the hardness in her mother's voice. "We still have to live somewhere, though. Somewhere we can all be okay. I know we can't stay in that hotel indefinitely, but they can't be so callous as to kick us out onto the streets. Not after everything that's been done to us."

Carlton looked back up at her, seeming a little bit more confident. "And you won't be. In some areas, there hasn't been a lot I was able to do - I couldn't stop Frand, and I probably can't stop the prosecutors from taking the house. What I am, though, is a social worker, which means that the one thing I am very well-trained at is connecting people with every possible resource the government has available for them. So, what I have been doing, ever since I heard what happened, is wear out my phone line trying to sort out the best options I could for all of you."

He reached over along the desk and grabbed an file folder that was sitting on top of it, pulling it towards him.

"Natalie's situation was actually pretty quick to sort out, because of the life she'd already built before she was kidnapped. The apartment she'd been in still hadn't been rented out, and her belongings were still sitting in the basement there, so it wasn't too difficult to get it back for her - between the savings she has and some payments from abuse victim assistance funds, she'll be able to live off of that for at least a year as she gets back on her feet. Her employer was just as understanding, and even more sympathetic, and her job is also waiting for her as soon as she's ready to return. I also checked with the legal aid advocate, and due to the coercion she's already petitioned for the exception to the abortion statute to be applied, so your sister will still be able to choose whether she wants to have an abortion or bring the child to term.

"Natalie's also volunteered to have Naomi live with her, agreeing with my assessment that she probably can't handle living alone at this point. She offered to have you live there, too, and that's certainly an option we can set up for you, although something of a crowded one in that small apartment. From what I could tell, Natalie wasn't particularly interested in finding a different place, which is certainly understandable - after an ordeal like that, having a familiar surrounding to return to can definitely be helpful. Regardless, though, if the three of you want to stick together, I will find some way to make it work. However... I do have another option for you to consider."

He flipped the folder open, peering at the forms it contained. "As you know, your sister, Jessica, has taken refuge with the tribe - well, the folks in the woods, as you probably refer to them. I had someone check on her recently, and by all accounts, she's thriving - doing well in her classes, getting on with her peers, overall growing into an intelligent, happy and healthy young woman. I know that she misses you, and you her, but from what my colleague relayed to me, she still feels betrayed by her mother's inaction, and only remembers a little of her older sister. Based on those factors, I wondered if it might be a good fit for you, so I called the person in charge of it, and he agreed with my assessment - if you decide to go there, they have already guaranteed a place for you in their society alongside your sister.

Carlton glanced back up at her, shuffling the papers around. "Mind you, it would be a considerable departure from the life you're used to. They're very... down-to-earth, I guess, following traditional beliefs, by which I mean they're not exactly fans of modern technology - so, no cell phones, no television, no internet except in extraordinary circumstances. There's also no, well, clothing, and some other quirks for sure. You'd have a job, doing something to help out there, and participate in certain rituals." He paused, sighing slightly. "That would probably be the major sticking point considering your situation - especially during heat, they tend to have some, uh, 'fertility' rituals that are heavily sexual in nature. I talked at length with their leader, though, and he said that given the nature of what you've been through and the nature of the sanctuary they would extend to you, he would guarantee that you wouldn't have to be exposed to those particular rituals - although if you chose to abstain, you'd have to take some heat-blockers when your cycle came around again to ensure that there wouldn't be any outside temptations. True, they're not the most pleasant things to be on, so much so that most women tend to choose even the inconvenience of heat over them, but that would be the cost. Or if you did decide, after a time, to give the rituals a try, you could of course go on contraceptives, permanently if you needed to."

Carlton glanced down again, still seeming a little unsure of himself. "I know that sounds like a lot of qualifiers, but there's also a lot to be said for it. It's a very peaceful setting, very communal, where no violence of any sort is tolerated, and where you would never be forced to do anything you didn't want to or couldn't handle. So, it might be helpful for you to be in that environment, in a safe, good place, where you could complete your education and be close to your sister again. You could even try it out, and go back to live with your other family if it wasn't for you."

He swiveled the form around on the desk before sliding it over towards her. "I guess I'm kinda talking it up a lot, but the way your sister has thrived since she got there... my hope is that it might be able to do the same for you. Ultimately, though, it's your choice - to go there, or to live with your sister and mother in the city. Or if neither of those work, I can try to come up with some other placement for you - tap some other funds, see if I can find you a place of your own, but that will take some additional time. So, what do you say? If you do want to join the tribe, you'll have to fill out a few forms, but if you want to, you can go as early as today."

Elizabeth looked down at the form, trying to think it through from her position in the unfamiliar office. As much as she didn't want to admit it out loud, the concept of living with Natalie and Naomi wasn't particularly appealing to her. She still felt enough lingering betrayal at Naomi, and frustration at her current inability to cope, that she didn't want to spend much of her own sanity dealing with it. And Natalie, well... it was still hard to look at her, at the condition she was in, without being reminded of her failure to contain Frand, the one thing she had so desperately tried to convince herself she was capable of.

Jessica, on the other hand... just knowing that she was okay, just knowing that she was growing up well and had been spared Frand's worst, was enough for a start. To be reunited with her again, though, with the one person in her family she truly, deeply cared about, was an attractive prospect. The conditions along with it, though... no clothing, at all? But then again, if everyone did it, maybe it meant that no one stood out as a result - and if that was the case, it was far better than being on display for Frand all the time, there for him to ogle, and grope, and... worse.

She reached over with her free arm and tugged the paper a little bit closer to her, glancing it over. "It sounds good. Can I ask you one thing, though?"

"Sure - whatever you need."

"What happened to my... to Frand? The cops didn't seem to want to talk much about him."

"Oh... well, last I checked, he's getting out of the hospital in the next few days, and then it's straight to jail - cops don't tend to let people who attacked one of their own roam the streets."

"...And his wounds?"

"He'll live, for sure, but... the kind of stuff he did to you, I can guarantee he won't be doing to anyone else. That bullet between his legs made sure of that."

"Good." Of course, she'd have been even happier if the bullet had thudded in right in the middle of his forehead - but then again, having to live but being prevented from doing what he loved, if that hurt him even more, than maybe it was better that way. "So, to join this... all I have to do is sign?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"And the rest of my family... I'll still be able to see them? Contact them?"

"Yes, although most likely they would need to come to you. They don't have a lot of technology, as I said, but somehow even in the middle of the woods they managed to qualify for a postal address, and get service a few days a week. So, you can send and receive letters at least, and while I don't think your mother and Natalie are particularly interested in joining, I made sure to stipulate that if you joined, they would be allowed to visit."

"And... my baby?"

"As I understand it, things are communal in that respect as well, and there should be no shortage of women to happily lend a hand in helping with your daughter's upbringing."

"That's... good to hear." She paused, thinking of something. "Jessica... the sex rituals you were talking about before, did they... did anyone, you know..."

"From what I heard, she participated of her own volition, and only with those she chose to be with. Nothing was forced on her. My colleague reported that after some initial trepidation, she handled it just fine, alongside her peers. It's a little different than how it happens in our society, to be sure, but from everything I can tell, her first introduction to heat was a good one."

"Still... it should have been later. It should have been on her own terms..."

"Probably. It was a hard call, but... the only alternative I had at my disposal, because of how things shook out, would have been sending her back to Frand. And compared to that, well..."

"Yeah. Sorry. I know it was probably for the best, but... she's my little sister. I wanted to protect her from... well, from everything..."

"All women go into heat. That's not something you could have protected her from. This way, at least... at least it's associated with something akin to love..."

"I know, I just... I want to make sure that I didn't fail her. I failed myself, I failed Natalie... if she's been hurt by all of this as well... I need some hope to hang onto." She reached back, cradling Esperanza in her arms. "As much hope as I can find..."

After a moment, though, she reached back down and playing her fingers along a pen that was sitting on the desk nearby. "There's no way I'm gonna risk failing her again. And if this is the way to do it, then..." She nodded with determination, picked up the pen, and signed the indicated section of the paper. "So... when can I see her?"

"Um, well... I guess I can drive you over there once we wrap things up here, although we'll have to walk part of the way." He got up, swinging the door open for her. "Naomi and Natalie are still in the lobby, I think. I... if we are going to head out there, I assume you'll want to fill them in first, and say your goodbyes for now..."

Elizabeth followed him back out into the lobby, and Natalie's blank face and Naomi's tear-stained one only served to confirm that she was making the right decision. Somehow, she knew, they would take care of each other, and maybe someday they would both be able to get over it, but she couldn't be the one to help them, not with so much pain shared between them, and Esperanza, hopeful name or not, constantly reminding them of everything they'd been through.

It didn't stop her, though, from handing her child off to Carlton for a moment, and encircling them both in a tearful embrace, even though only her sister seemed up to returning it. Naomi just kept staring straight ahead, scattered tears dampening the fur on her cheeks, seeming utterly hollow. Elizabeth, nonetheless, kissed her lightly on the forehead, and for a moment a brief spark of light seemed to flash across Naomi's eyes before quickly fading back into emptiness. As she walked away, she glanced back to see Natalie wrapping an arm around her mother's shoulder and tucking Naomi's head in against her chest, seeing her sister's muzzle move with soothing words that she couldn't quite make out.

The ride, and subsequent walk, were spent mostly in silence, until they arrived at the stout wooden gates of the compound. For a moment, the imposing structure gave her a sense of trepidation, but it was quickly alleviated when the gates opened up, and a group of women came bustling out to greet her. Their nakedness, strangely enough, was shocking only for a moment - and then they were all around her, hugging her and exclaiming with joy, clamoring around the baby and cooing over how cute and perfect she was. Somehow, it set Elizabeth instantly at ease, and she even let them hold her, marveling at how gently they cradled Esperanza in their experienced arms. In the midst of it, Carlton produced a camera from somewhere and handed it off to one of the women, who protested at having to deal with the technology but reluctantly let him show her how to take a quick snapshot of him, Elizabeth and Esperanza in front of the compound's entrance. Then he waved goodbye, heading back towards the forest as the women ushered Elizabeth inside, chatting amiably with her and each other as they made their way towards one of the cabins.

Inside, she was introduced to Benoit, and discovered that he was the person who had agreed to take her sister in and shelter her against Frand's relentless pursuit. It was odd to look at a naked man, especially one her father's age, but unlike her father Benoit seemed to exude calm and peacefulness - and also very much unlike her father, there was nothing to see on him except fur and an unobtrusive sheath with nothing protruding threateningly from it. He welcomed her into the tribe, and explained the specifics, which she readily agreed to. He also proffered a loincloth to her, to provide some modesty to start, but she decided to forgo it - the way Frand had used clothing as a way to make her stand out, to mark her as an object to be used, perhaps there was something to be said about simply forgoing it. Benoit did, at least, leave the cabin and allow her to disrobe at her own pace, and had no objections to the swaddling of her daughter. When she did, though, and stepped back outside, it was certainly a weird feeling, but also a strangely and quickly comfortable one - walking about completely naked there, baby suckling at her bare breast and all, elicited little more than a nod of acknowledgement or wave of welcome from both men and women alike - that is, until she got a little further into the compound.

As she walked forward, marveling at the rustic, industrious place, Benoit appeared beside her and offered to hold onto Esperanza for a moment. She was initially puzzled as to why, but it all became clear a moment later when a familiar voice rang out in front of her.

"Elizabeth! You're here!"

Darting out from around one of the tents was her sister, sprinting forward along the dirt path. She'd grown up a little more since Elizabeth had last seen her: her chest was more developed, her curves completing their transition from skinny and girlish to undeniably womanly, her face closer to that of an adult, but still undeniably her irrepressible sister. A moment later, Jessica all but crashed into her, and Elizabeth wrapped her up in an unrestrained hug, squeezing her sister close against her and holding onto her with all her might. This time, though, her sister didn't disappear, didn't slip off in the night to some unknown and hopefully safe place, but was there in her arms, lovely and living and whole, when she dared again to open her eyes.

"I... I don't even know what to say," she said, her muzzle against Jessica's bare shoulder, tears coming unbidden to her eyes - but instead of sadness, they displayed an emotion far from it. "Just to see you again, to see you safe... I can't even tell you how much it means to me."

"Me too," Jessica replied. "I... do need to breathe, though..."

Elizabeth, realizing how tightly she was holding her sister, quickly released her arms, but Jessica stayed against her. "I was so worried," her sister said, still seeming unwilling to let her go. "You were with Frand, and the things he was doing, the things that he did... I felt so guilty, staying here and being safe, while he..."

Elizabeth reached over and stroked the fur on her head. "There, there... you have nothing to worry about. You did what I asked you to do, and you stayed safe for me - knowing that you were safe, that you would be okay, is what got me through it. Let's not... let's not dwell on it, okay? All that matters is that we're through it. Frand's gone, and we're right where we need to be: together."

"Together," Jessica replied, hugging her sister again, but she looked up when she heard Esperanza begin to cry lightly in Benoit's arms. "Um, is that... is that your... is it Frand's-"

"That is Esperanza," Elizabeth quickly replied, before Jessica had a chance to think too hard about what that meant. "She is a beautiful baby, and she is going to grow up to be a fine person, no matter what."

"Yeah," Jessica replied, finally relinquishing her embrace, but reaching over to brush some of Elizabeth's tears away. "I never thought it would before, but where we are now, here with everyone... I think it's a great place for anyone to grow up. Oh, there are so many things that have happened, and I can't wait to tell you about them all..."

Once Benoit had returned Esperanza to her arms, Jessica led her over to a roaring fire where her friends had gathered, and Elizabeth ate with them as Jessica regaled her with everything she'd experienced until late in the night. Afterwards, another woman had led her over to another tent, with three new mothers a little older than she was. They helped her get Esperanza settled into a shared crib with the others, and curled up next to her, one of them singing a soft, lilting lullaby that helped to ease them all off to sleep. It felt strange but good to feel their presence beside her - it was the first contact like that in a very long time that hadn't involved Frand doing something to her, and an encouraging reminder that there were ways to be around people that weren't like that.

Elizabeth settled into her new routine surprisingly quickly, taking on a role as one of the caregivers for various infants in a nursery cabin during the morning hours, and back to a classroom to finish up her schooling and prepare for the high school equivalency exam in the afternoon. She was able to see plenty of her sister as well - she ate with the group of mothers she shared a tent with in the morning, but was allowed to join Jessica and her friends for their evening meal, nearly effortlessly becoming close with both groups, who welcomed her into their social circles without hesitation. It was a change of pace from her old life, to be sure, but a welcome one - and even spending most of her time within the towering walls of the compound, she felt immeasurably more free than she had before.

Time moved on, and Esperanza grew, her eyes becoming bright and intelligent and her body becoming active. Soon, she was crawling adeptly, filled with an innate curiosity - luckily, though, there were a multitude of hands always available to catch her before she got into any trouble. Elizabeth herself was doing better as well - going from sitting around to being more active in her duties for the tribe brought her back into better shape than she'd been ever since Frand had contained her, and in every way she felt sharper, more active, more alive. Soon, she was all but running the nursery during her shift, expertly juggling the needs of a dozen kids at once, and enjoying every moment of it, and after a few months to round out her education she had her diploma in hand.

Meanwhile, every so often, she would get letters from her sister in the city, letting her know how things were going, and she responded with details of their own lives in the tribe. Natalie was settling back into her old job, and seemed happy to feel like things were mostly as they were before she left. She did take advantage of the exception, though, and went through with the abortion - Elizabeth certainly couldn't blame her, and knew it was an option she might have taken if she'd had the chance after what Frand had done to her, although she also knew that Esperanza being there was one of the things that had held her together. Natalie, though, had her hands full enough taking care of Naomi, who was at least doing better - she still didn't seem much inclined to leave the apartment, but she was able to get up and do things, and had settled back into the domestic routine she'd kept up before, which was something that seemed to give her more comfort than anything else. Best of all, Natalie said that she even managed to coax a smile out of her from time to time. Despite all that, Naomi didn't seem quite up to visiting, but Natalie assured Elizabeth in her letters that they would show up for a proper reunion as soon as they could.

And so things moved forward, better than they had been, Elizabeth settling into her new life, and becoming comfortable with the people who more and more seemed to make up a new, extended family. It was a simpler one than she'd been used to in some ways, without many of the trappings of the modern world anywhere to be found, but all of those things seemed to pale in comparison to what she had there - in the tribe, she wasn't just a daughter, or a... thing to be used or abused, as she had seen herself in Frand's eyes. There, she had a place that wasn't based on her ability to be pinned down and taken, but for the things she could really offer - being there, she felt like she truly mattered as a person. And Benoit had been right - there were no beatings, or assaults, or uncomfortable situations, and when men looked at her it was sometimes with attraction, but much more often with respect, and as an equal. As a result, while the specter of Frand still left her a little nervous at the thought of sex, when the time for her heat came around she turned down the blockers - and when she went into the ritual arena, contraceptive in place below her fur and the comforting presence of her sister at her side, feeling the reassuring grip of one of the tribesmen as he gently took her hand in his own, Elizabeth knew that it would be okay. The things that had happened with Frand, she knew, would always stay with her, but now she would have another share of experiences and memories to sit alongside them - ones that she already knew, from the words and deeds that she'd seen and heard, would be different. Unlike with her father, from beginning to end, they would be as they should: about caring, about respect, and above all, about love.

--

When the district attorney showed up next to the handcuffs that kept Frand chained to the railing of his hospital bed, the first thing he asked about was the possibility of a deal. After all, what else was there to do? He'd done so many things for his family, made so many choices, and his horror and rage at potentially losing them had made him miscalculate and make one choice too far. Even with the stupid hick deputy having the devil's own luck, somehow managing to just barely survive having his throat slashed, all that meant was he might have a deal with some slight, distant hope of getting out rather than none at all. Add to that all the other charges, and it made sense to just swear to it all, take it like a man, and accept his indefinite incarceration along with the unfortunate notion that he'd played one impulsive, risky hand too many.

After all, even with his current situation, he had to admit he'd accomplished at least most of what he'd wanted - assuming that Natalie had a son, at least - and while he had certainly wanted even more of that idyllic time spent with his family, and to eventually return his last daughter to the fold, it would have to be good enough. He was certain that they would never forget him, never forget his love, and that someday, even behind bars, he would great his grand- and great-grandchildren as the unequivocal head of his family: imprisoned, maybe, but their patriarch nonetheless, the one who gave them all the gift of love and life.

And so it was that once he was on his feet again, he affixed his signature to the bottom of an official legal document, and what surely would have been quite the lurid trial for his backwater town was instead condensed into an arraignment that also served as a sentencing hearing, taking place inconspicuously at the federal courthouse down in the nearest big city. The PI and a few others involved were present, and they all pleaded one after the other: guilty, guilty, a dozen times guilty. With the deals made and the blame spread around, Frand received his personal pronouncement of justice: assuming he made it that long, when he finally left prison, he'd be an old man, probably stooped over and shuffling about instead of walking. Somehow, though, it didn't matter, and even though his family wasn't there to see him off, he entered prison with his head held high. After all, he'd gone down fighting to defend and hang onto those that he loved, and was taking the punishment for what he'd done in the service of keeping them together; there was no shame, in his mind at least, in any of that.

Life in prison for Frand wasn't easy, but neither was it particularly hard. He was bigger than most of the inmates save for a few monstrously-sized ones, and even when one of those challenged him, he held his own - as there was no longer any motivation to hold his vicious streak in check, not against criminals and strangers, he soon made sure that even those larger ones treated him with a measure of caution and grudging respect. He had a reasonable cell, shared with a smaller bunkmate that he could boss around and generally treat like a bitch - well, all but in the most important way.

It was true that the magnum bullet had done a number on him, although he'd been surprised when the doctors had revealed he was actually more intact than he'd thought. His testicles had been just about wrecked, and a good divot of his penis had been blasted away, with bullet fragments in other parts that they'd had to ease out. Most of the rest of his knot had been used up to repair the chunk of damaged tissue, but overall his penis had for the most part survived, even if it looked oddly thin without that protrusion at the base. Of course, the damage internally was more extensive than that, and not of the sort that could be repaired - the doctors had informed him that due to the collapse of the erectile tissue, the best he could ever hope for was to get it to half-mast: enough to get it out of its sheath, enough to piss with, but never hard enough to penetrate someone again.

Even if it had been able to get up, the nerves were also shot, and it only felt good to touch it in certain small patches along its shaft - and with nothing left to ejaculate, anyway, there wasn't much point any more to play with it in the first place. At least, before, it had done its job, and since Frand was strong and intimidating enough to avoid taking it from anyone, he figured that was good enough. Instead, he worked out in the weight room, played whatever pick-up sport was going on in the yard, and kept going. And at night, instead of doing anything else, he lay on his bunk and thought of his family, his devoted wife, and all his daughters, dutiful or not. Someday soon, he was sure, he would see them again - behind a glass wall or not, they would be there, concern on their faces but love in their eyes. He was still their father, and when he could, he would write letters to them, doing his best to track down their addresses. He talked about his days inside, and asked after them, especially how his newest children, the ones by Elizabeth and Natalie, were doing. And every night, he would go to sleep with anticipation, knowing that it would be soon, very soon, that he would hear back from them, see their faces, hear their voices, feel their love.

As the weeks and months went by, though, finally shifting over into years without one single word in response, it slowly, coldly began to sink in, the thought weaving its way through his layers of denial and delusion. And so it was that one night, years later, it finally broke through, and for the first time in all those years, he fully realized the truth: that no one had seen things like he had, that no one had thought his his assaults were love, that his actions had had so thoroughly poisoned everyone else in his family against him that they had all just shaken their heads and walked away. That he wouldn't see his family again, wouldn't watch his newest children grow up, or see his oldest develop into adults and parents and women in their own right. That all he had now was three cold concrete walls and a set of iron bars, a cold, empty place that contained only indifference and a terrible sort of solitude, trapped away from the only true light and love he'd ever had in his life.

And on that night, for the first time in as long as he could remember, Frand cried.