# "From Whom All Blessings Flow," Conclusion

Author: EOCostello
Tags: Church, Deer, Elf, Skunk, king, prophecy

#10 of From Whom All Blessings Flow (WW5 #2)

This particular story concludes, in part, with a prophecy that is somewhat sinister...

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(I/\*&nbsp; 7/22/2013)

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I could, perhaps, be forgiven the error of supposing that I was in a state of torment in a particularly nasty area of the Netherhells.&nbsp; After all, consider the evidence:&nbsp; I not only smelled sulfur everywhere, but was belching up quantities of it every few seconds.&nbsp; Furthermore, the area inside my skull was burning hot, and being poked at randomly with sharpened needles.

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Opening my eyes a small fraction revealed that I was sitting down at a table.&nbsp; The fact that I was seated in front of a window through which streamed the sunlight of a freshly minted day did convince me that I was not in the Netherhells.&nbsp; Just quite yet.&nbsp; Mark you, the breaking day did convince me that perhaps Death was not quite so bad, after all.

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I sank my head on my arms, and stated with feeling:

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Will somefur turn that \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ sun off?"

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; To which I received the mild response:

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Quite beyond my powers, young fur.&nbsp; And I'm sure many would complain, don't you think?"

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Somehow, through my sulfur-and-pain wracked brain, the suggestion that I should be standing at attention, and immediately at that, managed to struggle to the surface.&nbsp; I got rather unsteadily to my hooves, straightened my back with a will, and managed to bring my head level, which sent shooting pains that threatened to make my eyes drop out of my head.&nbsp; I opened my eyes just enough to confirm that the figure swimming before my vision was indeed my Sovereign Lord, the High King of Faerie, Adler of Albric Tor.

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; One of these days, I will figure out how I managed to stay upright and salute.&nbsp; So I can never, never, never do that again while in that condition.

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I wobbled on my hooves for I'm not sure how long, before the voice broke in again, in some concern.

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Oh, there you are, Roland.&nbsp; Good morning.&nbsp; Am I right in assuming that this young fur's condition is directly tied to the uproar the Palace was in early this morning?"

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I swallowed hard, stifled an eruption of sulfur, and opened my eyes.&nbsp; My immediate lord, His Royal Highness the Marshal of the Imperial Army, strolled into the room majestically.&nbsp; He was bearing a flower, an orchid to be precise.&nbsp; I had a fleeting notion that it was intended for my coffin.&nbsp; Instead, with great delicacy, he placed it in a vase on the table, admired his work, made an adjustment, and then walked out of my vision.&nbsp; A light metallic ringing sound indicated that he was perusing the breakfast options on offer, a concept that was not terribly appealing to me at the moment.

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "It is indeed, brother."

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Well, what in Her sweet and holy visage were you doing?"

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Protecting the integrity and sanctity of your realm, brother."

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "At that hour of the day?"

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "I do not keep merchant's hours in fulfilling my duties to you."

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "I've never suggested you have, Roland.&nbsp; But see here, why have you deposited your protégé here in the Morning Room?"

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "To report, of course.&nbsp; Corporal?"

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I managed to gasp out a weak response.

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Would you please be kind enough to give His Majesty a précis of the events last night, from the time you started your Vigil in the Old Chapel."

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I nodded, and somehow managed to struggle through the whole story without falling flat on my muzzle.&nbsp; At least I wasn't interrupted with questions.&nbsp; His Majesty and the Marshal listened to my account very patiently.&nbsp; I had my eyes closed most of the time, so I'm not sure how they took Brother Fenimore's account of the Coming of the Skunks.

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I got to the point at which I had started to smell and taste sulfur in the Crypt, when His Majesty's interest was piqued.&nbsp; He backtracked a little.

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Did you really threaten to strike the High Bishop repeatedly with your short-staff, Corporal?"

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Either nodding or replying would do, but unfortunately I somehow chose to do both, and divine justice of a nature began squeezing my brain like a sponge.

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The King evidently turned to the Marshal.&nbsp; "Well, good heavens, that never ends well.&nbsp; They usually hold a frightful grudge, those high-church types."

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Some vigorous spoon-work against a china bowl indicated that the Marshal had, at some point, helped himself to breakfast.&nbsp; "Well, Corporal Winterbough here did make him look a fool in front of the Cathedral Chapter.&nbsp; Mark you, Dr. Tailor **is** a fool, so it didn't take much work.&nbsp; Told me he hadn't been down in the Crypt in years, would you believe?&nbsp; No wonder no fur knew about conditions down there.&nbsp; That's going to change in a hurry, I tell you.&nbsp; And I know the details are beneath him, but somefur in the Chapter should have known Brother Fenimore had managed to winkle his way consistently out of services. No, no, a bit of humility won't do him any harm, brother."

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Had he...I mean, the High Bishop...had he known about that puzzle-floor that the Corporal described?"

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Not a bit of it.&nbsp; No doubt the information got lost somewhere along the line.&nbsp; Probably when Irenaeus went through the Cathedral like a mad-fur.&nbsp; It was only when Brother Fenimore was helping with the inventory of the books and manuscripts that he discovered that little trove on the early history of the Cathedrals.&nbsp; Found a number of 'em, tucked away in his cell, if you please.&nbsp; Including not only an account that explained how the Old Chapel's floor worked, but how it connected up to the Crypt."

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; An exasperated tut-tutting.&nbsp; "Have I not, Roland, said it over and over again: this mania of our family for the clever puzzle..."

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "...is going to be the end of us, one of these days.&nbsp; Yes, yes, I know, and last night proved you right again, brother."

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Well, I suppose something better be done about it.&nbsp; What, I don't know.&nbsp; I doubt we can duplicate the Ward that guards the front of the Crypt."

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "More's the pity, brother.&nbsp; No, I'll speak with Captain X on the matter.&nbsp; She'll have some ideas at least in how to seal it up in the short-term so those monks don't get it into their heads to go playing with it.&nbsp; Might have a go, myself, y'know.&nbsp; Get that randomizing function to loop on itself.&nbsp; No fur'll be able to walk on the floor of the Old Chapel again, but better that, than messing about in the Crypt."

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Which reminded me, as I stood (swayed?) there.&nbsp; I croaked out a request for permission to speak, which was granted.

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "What happened in the Crypt?&nbsp; Why is everything brighter?"

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; There was a period of silence as both of the royal skunks considered the question with thoughtful interest.&nbsp; I took advantage of the silence to close my stinging eyes.&nbsp; It was the King who eventually spoke.

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Well, I'm not expert in fumaroles, Corporal, but I imagine that one of the problems might have been that something was clogged up, somewhere along the line.&nbsp; I doubt very much that the Casket and its contents had anything to do with it.&nbsp; Most likely, it was that unfortunate wretch Brother Fenimore.&nbsp; Falling from that great a height, he probably broke whatever was clogging the fumarole when he struck the ground, and there you are."

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The Marshal rumbled.&nbsp; "Of course, there's the less practical explanation of the fact that you could read his fate as a sacrifice."

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Oh, yes, true, true, brother.&nbsp; One would like to think that Fuma wanted the attention, and all.&nbsp; Gets lonely down in that Crypt with no fur visiting you.&nbsp; I suppose that's the High Bishop's fault, isn't it?&nbsp; You're right, Roland, I suppose a little humility will do him a power of good."

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; A grunt.&nbsp; "Could apply to a number of furs."

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Yes.&nbsp; Well.&nbsp; Now listen, Roland, I don't interfere in the way you run the Army, discipline and all that, but really, hasn't this young fur suffered enough?"

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Whatever response that got was muffled by a spoonful of something.

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Well, he's in **my** Morning Room, and while I'm eating breakfast, and I won't have it."

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; There was a scrape of a chair, followed shortly afterward by a soft tread, and then by two paws placed against the side of my head.&nbsp; The pain in my head flared, and then drained away, leaving me mostly tired and worn-out.

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Thank you, Your Majesty."

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "There you are.&nbsp; Haven't lost the knack.&nbsp; Dashed useful thing, the Royal Touch.&nbsp; My father used to love visiting the infirmaries and laying paws on the furs there."

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Not as much as laying them on the nursing sisters, and they weren't ill."

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Really, brother, no need to bring up gossip."

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "It's not gossip, it's..."

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Yes, well.&nbsp; Neither here nor there."&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; He went over to the sideboard, and helped himself to a succulent slice of melon, which he brought back to his seat.

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Nasty things, those fumes.&nbsp; Don't know how the Interpreters of old used to stand it."

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; There was a snapping of fingers, followed by the flat of a paw on the table from the Marshal.&nbsp; "Almost forgot a vital thing, brother.&nbsp; When the High Bishop went in and brought the Corporal here out of the Crypt, the Corporal was raving and speaking in tongues.&nbsp; Wasn't in the report, of course -- how could it be?"

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "You don't say!&nbsp; Really?&nbsp; I rather wish I'd seen that.&nbsp; Only read about that sort of thing."

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The Marshal frowned.&nbsp; "You might reconsider your desire, brother."&nbsp; He reached into a pocket of his tunic and drew out a piece of paper.&nbsp; Putting on his spectacles, he read out what was written there in a firm voice.

&nbsp;

_Beware the burning cloud of night_

_Bearing within the rains of hate_

_Brother against brother shall clash and fight_

_Pride and ambition shall meet its fate_

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; There was a long, shocked silence from the King, who asked for the paper, and held it up close to his muzzle to read for himself.

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "No mistake in the transcription, Roland?"

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; A spoon was pointed at me.&nbsp; "None.&nbsp; The Corporal here raved that three times, clear as anything.&nbsp; Heard it myself."

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The King handed the paper back to the Marshal, who tucked it away.

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Have the monks...?"

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Every last one of 'em, brother.&nbsp; Swore them myself, and woe on any of 'em that breaks the oath.&nbsp; Brother Fenimore's fate is gentle compared to what would happen if those fools open their muzzles."

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Having seen that fate, I was aghast, and not a little scared.&nbsp; The Marshal turned to me, and shook his head.

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Not your fault, Corporal.&nbsp; You're just the instrument of Fuma in this regard.&nbsp; It's not like when you threatened the High Bishop with your battle-staff; that was within your control.&nbsp; By the way, I'd give the Cathedral a wide berth for a good long time, if I were you.&nbsp; But back to the Crypt.&nbsp; No, I expected this would happen when I sent you down. Nothing down there was chance, Corporal."

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The Marshal pushed aside his bowl, and looked at the table thoughtfully.&nbsp; "Quite uncanny, isn't it, brother?"

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Uncomfortably so, Roland."

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "What is, Your Highness?&nbsp; Your Majesty?"

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The two royal skunks got up.&nbsp; It was the Marshal who spoke.

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Not allowed to say, Corporal.&nbsp; You'll find out, eventually.&nbsp; Right turn!&nbsp; Dismiss!"

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; A footfur handed me my garrison hat and my short-staff at the door, and I walked out into the sunshine of a summer day in Albric Tor.

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I looked over at the imposing bulk of the Cathedral.&nbsp; When you see buildings like that, they're meant to make you feel insignificant.&nbsp; And I, Corporal Westersloe Winterbough V, was an insignificant fur, Valour Medal to the contrary.&nbsp; No title, no lands, no family, and just one line in the _Army List_, out of tens of thousands of entries.

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; But as I turned to go home, I pondered.&nbsp; If I'm so insignificant, and just an instrument of Fuma, why do furs like Colonel Briarrose take an interest me?&nbsp; Why did a hired assassin draw a bead on me with a deadly poisoned arrow?&nbsp; Why am I allowed to stand in the presence of the King and address him?

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; And why did he look so worried at my prophecy?&nbsp; And I know prophecies are meant to be vague -- it's how Interpreters kept their jobs -- but what did the brother fighting brother mean?&nbsp; And when?

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; And why didn't the King and the Marshal remark on the fact that both Brother Fenimore and I were from Elfhame?&nbsp; Or comment on the story he told of how supposedly we were crushed by the Coming of the Skunks?

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; It's good that elves live a long time.&nbsp; Because I wonder if there'll be enough years to allow me to figure out some answers.

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; At least I know this much: there'll be no lack of opportunities, I'll wager.&nbsp; And you know what?&nbsp;

&nbsp;

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Bring them on.&nbsp; I'm not afraid.

&nbsp;

_New York, New York_

_July 15, 2013 - July 22, 2013_

Source: https://sofurry.com/s/beb863wn
Part of the series From Whom All Blessings Flow (WW5 #2)
Previous: https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/750702-from-whom-all-blessings-flow-part-h.md