FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chapter 15 - All Fun and Games

the nature of a book. the nature of a text in the Record, or for the Record. it is no small thing that this, is the story that begs to be written. for it is true, that the Fox knows of a publisher, and a publisher asks for a story. and it is true that the Archlitch and the Oigd’yiadttigdeit come together at once, all at climax. and it is true that death comes at the end. the drama of death makes for something to indulge were one to read the Record for recreation alone. the drama of fiction brings all animals together for the book’s climax. but it is not these matters that lead to the nature of this book. for it is this book that begs unto itself to be. for it is this book unto itself that is the beginning of something that has no end. for it is this book that serves the keystone to the Ascent towards the Godhead. for the Fox must become one in the Record. and the text serves as the Record manifest. and the Godhead must be. for there is nothing but Fate. and so unfolds, the beginning of the end, in the night, in autumn, and all things come to an end, quick and panicked.

I got back home around eleven in the morning. Alicent texted me around ten-thirty, while I was driving. I pulled over and read that the alligator wanted to complete Touchstone’s healing process by noon, and prayed silently that the road back to Marquette would remain copless, for I intended to commit a pawful of traffic violations despite the ice on the roads. True, I was pregnant, but it wasn’t eggs this time, it was mostly spores, and I can’t really mess up that reproductive process with a car accident. Fungi are decomposers after all.

My body ached and throbbed. The fungal presence within me was fully inoculated, but the sudden wintery chill threatened to stifle it from producing any fruiting bodies. I had given my master the nutrients they needed, but I’d need to hole up in a humid, slightly lukewarm room in order to help them reproduce fully. the Oigd’yiadttigdeit had arrived.

Touchstone and Florence were awake by the time I stole through the front door, having, indeed, avoided getting into a car accident along the way. I made it roughly twenty minutes before Alicent’s deadline.

“Welcome back, fox,” sang the bird. Florence looked up from one of Marianne’s books and added, “Glad you made it back safe, it looks horrible out there.”

I dabbed, “Thank you much, but I’m a pretty baller winter driver.”

“No offense,” started Florence, “But- OK, so I don’t mean to pry, but I thought Marianne told me you were pregnant again.”

I patted my entire torso and upper arm the same way normal people pat their pregnant bellies, “Well, conception was only last night.” I continued into the kitchen, flipping the switch to an electric kettle in order to warm up water for some much needed coffee.

“Is this going to be quick and strange like how Palais’s eggs went? Full disclosure; but I tried asking Marianne about what this process looks like, and she got very cagey, because apparently this is some sort of kink-” Florence cut herself short. With a quick glance, I noticed the red-winged blackbird’s wide eyes and subtle shaking of the head serve as a warning for the vixen to not further this conversation. The arctic fox continued, nonplussed. “Either way, I was expecting you to be way more-” She waved a paw in front of her face, “Mushroomy.”

“It’s this weather, to be honest. I might just have, like, dormant spores within me for a sec’. I do think I’m gonna need to make my room really humid and eat a bunch more than I usually do, but to answer your question without getting graphic; yes I have a vagina right now, the quote-unquote ‘child’ is just gonna be an extension of the Fungal Entity, so they’ll have a gestalt multiple-bodies-one-mind thing going on, and I’m feeling he/him today.” Florence’s nod of approval remained surprisingly nonplussed. “Touch is getting healed today, so I don’t have to feel bad about kicking him out of the room. I have time, this process usually takes a couple of weeks.”

“Alicent’s coming in twenty, yeah?” asked the bird in question.

“Yep, I should check my texts though.”

I didn’t expect the alligator Apothecary to be on her phone twenty-four-seven; the animal was hardly of my own generation. So I wasn’t surprised to see that she hadn’t messaged me back. What did surprise me, however, was an ominous text from Hawthorn, written plainly and with apt punctuation. The timestamp showed that he wrote me fifteen minutes earlier.

Please call me as soon as you’re able to. Thank you.

“Hey, y’all,” I called out as I scooped loose coffee grounds into a paper filter, “Hawthorn wants me to call real quick. Come get me if Alicent or Marianne show up early.”

“Tell Culver I said ‘hello,’” teased Touchstone.

I holed up inside of my bedroom for the privacy, and dialed the one-eyed wolf’s number. He picked up after two rings. “Hey, Hawthorn, what’s up?”

His voice was immediately stern and nervous. There was a little bit of static interference, not enough to make the wolf’s words hard to hear, but enough to let me know that he was out in the woods. “Yeah, Forseti, hello. I hate to do this to you if you’re busy today, but I need you to come out to the coordinates I’m about to send as soon as you can. The, the- you know, the you-know-what is back.”

I subconsciously crossed my left arm across my upper body nervously. “The Archlitch?”

“No, no, not him. The, um- I’m not trying to be ominous, but the hard-to-pronounce one- The being that, you know, killed Azelfrey and took my eye.”

I then audibly gasped. That was impossible. “The Oigd’yiadttigdeit?”

“Yeah, no, yeah, the Oigd- Yeah, Forseti, it’s back.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Come out here, you’ll see. There’s no doubt.”

I started nervously chewing on a claw on my off-paw, “Hawthorn, that should be impossible-”

“I was kind of hoping you’d be able to tell me why it’s happening.”

“Honestly, Hawthorn, I have no clue why it’d be back. I’ll come out ASAP, though. I just have to meet up with this Apothecary from Houma that’s healing Touch.”

“OK, just let me know when you’re on the way. And maybe call Jouxlya.”

“I’ll try and get a hold of her. Chat soon.”

The Oigd’yiadttigdeit was a terrifying, unpredictable presence, but it never visited the same area of the material world more than once every quarter-of-a-century. It wouldn’t possibly come to Marquette after only two years.

If it wasn’t my fault, it was Jouxlya’s. except that is not true, for it is that it must be.

I meandered back into the living room, apparently visibly shaken up, because Florence was quick to ask, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Um, so apparently, um- You know that being with the blood you touched and now your arm’s a dragon arm? It’s coming to Marquette.” I had hoped that I’d made an important stride on my honesty arc.

The mood shifted dramatically between the blackbird and fox, “Are we safe?”

“Hawthorn wants me to come out and check it out. Honestly, Touch, you’re going to be down in Louisiana, I think it’d be pretty smart if you went with him, Florence. I know you really wanna see magical stuff, but this one is a, um, a bad idea.”

Florence chewed through her first few syllables as if she were debating whether or not to say them. “Are you sure, I mean, apparently my body’s pretty immune to the effects of- You know, that thing.”

I shook my head gently, “No offense, but I think there’s a difference between the thing’s blood and the Oigd’yiadttigdeit itself.”

Touchstone nervously made a joke, “The ease at which you’re able to say that word is baffling.”

“I practiced alone in my room for an hour straight.”

The white-furred vulpine steered the conversation back on course. “I can go with Touchstone, then, but please keep us updated, Forseti.”

“Can do.”

Marianne and Alicent showed up, not too much longer. Neither seemed to be in a particularly chatty mood. I imagined that the Sphynx was still mad at me about the prank. The alligator was the first to greet the three of us as she crossed the threshold, “Howdy- Damn, it’s fuckin’ cold up here.”

“Hey, Alicent.” I responded, “Thanks for coming up here.”

Marianne coldly declared, “I imagine you’re all at least able to comprehend how doors work, but in the unsurprising event that you forget, I’ll be in my menagerie. Don’t interrupt me otherwise.” She made a heel turn and disappeared as quickly as she arrived.

Alicent made her way towards the living room, visibly shivering without being able to warm herself up with her cold blood.“I don’t mean to bitch like the cat, but it’s really fuckin’ cold up here, I’d appreciate not stickin’ ‘round for long.”

I went towards the front door, towards a space we reserved for the wheelchair. “Yeah, for sure.” The device rolled slowly and angrily with bits of the carpeting grasping at the wheels, but I succeeded eventually. “Oh, hey, is it alright if Florence comes along with you? There’s something I gotta handle today, and it’s a bit intense for a new Awngaimene.”

“Yeah, I don’t mind.” The two of us helped Touchstone to the chair. Alicent was primed to the Archlitch situation, so she didn’t question why Florence wouldn’t be able to stay home alone. “I was gonna say, fox- When are you and the- and the-” She started snapping her claws, trying to remember the name of the other healer. “God-damned; the bird.”

“Fucking Sappha.”

“Yeah, Sappha. You two gonna learn to heal broken bones sometime soon? I reckon that’s one of the more important things an Apothecary needs to know, I can’t help you out every time.”

“It’s on my to-do list.”

“Well, move it up.” Alicent, Touchstone, and Florence all stood. “I’ll write you when my work’s done.”

“Thanks much.”

“Good luck, fox,” spoke the blackbird. He was uncharacteristically concerned. Even Florence picked up on his worried aura, looking grimly towards me as though I were just sent off to the trenches.

“I’ll write you and Florence once we figure this whole thing out, don’t worry.”

I had pulled up to the trailhead at McCormick’s Tract, a patch of nature west of the town of Marquette. The coordinates that the Mracksiogne wolf had given me lead to a patch of forest a few miles away from where any actual trail lead, so I called once more to let him know that I was on my way, but that it’d take a bit of time.

I bundled up in thermal underwear, layers of long-sleeved shirts, and a bulky, light blue puffy coat made from a synthetic fabric. The temperatures weren’t nearly as low as they could be for the Upper Peninsula, but I didn’t want to flash freeze the spores under my skin. None of that stopped me from slapping my witch’s hat over the hood of the coat on top of my head. I brought a thermos of coffee and a couple of single-use heating pads to seal the deal. Hawthorn told me that he’d stay put, and that he had Hauksborque Stoney with him. Hauksborque Matchstick was making the rounds through the forest, attempting to track the Oigd’yiadttigdeit.

The precipitation itself had ceased, but a thick layer of snow blanketed the forest floor and the tops of the trees. I was thankful to own a pair of waterproof boots. The woods were quiet, and the only two colors were the dark brown of bark juxtaposed with the clean, white snow. A noticeable overcast prevented the sky from lending out any shades of blue. Everything felt far too minimalistic to be real. Even the many ponds I’d come across had started to freeze over, and took on a coat of snow. Widowmakers fell from dying trees, and snow banks crashed when their weight exceeded the capacity of the treetops. Each sound sent a chill up my spine. I noticed myself peeking over my shoulder at every whipping of the wind.

Though my chilly paws failed to navigate the touchscreen on my phone with much aplomb, I made my way to the designated meeting spot without having come across any danger. I spotted the signs of the Oigd’yiadttigdeit before I spotted the wolf. There was nothing else it could have been.

Eyes without eyelids stared from the umber trunks of a few trees, darting manically. Teal fish scales ran along the bark like they were a mineral vein in otherwise normal stone. The devil’s finger fungus bloomed like flowers in the knots of wood, a mushroom not normally found in this location. Some of the trees even seemed to have an audible heartbeat. The list of supernatural phenomena went on, but at least the effects of the infernal entity were confined to about six or seven square hindpaws. I still left a significant amount of distance between the afflicted area and myself. The being left no trail. It was as though it appeared and then vanished.

Instead of calling the wolf on my phone, I called out, “Hawthorn, you here?” From somewhere in the woods, echoing off of the trees, I heard him answer. “Yeah, follow my voice! We set up a camp.” I did as was told.

The rat Hauksborque and the lupine Mracksiogne were sitting in a couple of comically small, dark blue camping chairs, except it looked like a normal chair when the rat was sitting in it. Each mammal had a metal camping cup held in their paws, each of them pouring out steam. Instead of a normal camping tent, the two animals were sitting under a canopy tent. A dirt snowmobile with red-and-white faux camouflage sat nearby. “Forsy, my man!” called the rat, “Welcome to fucking Hell!”

Stoney remained in her chair. If she tried to trudge through the snow, it’d almost come up past her navel. I came over and clapped her on the shoulder before going in for a hug with Hawthorn. “Yeah, sorry I took so long. I wasn’t expecting to come out so far.”

“I take it you saw the site?” asked the wolf. His normally mirthful tone was completely gone. His hackles were raised.

“Yep. That’s the Oigd’yiadttigdeit. Who ended up finding it?” I silently prayed that we wouldn’t find the abominable remains of a poor, transformed Tystwole.

“Matchstick,” answered Stoney, “The site popped up on his radar, so to speak. We’re the first animals out here.” The rat was alluding to one of the other Hauksborque’s magical abilities. The coyote was a prolific stillpool scryer, and was in touch with the Record enough to know when something magical was threatening Marquette.

“Matchstick saw the site but not the Oigd’yiadttigdeit?”

“He’s out looking for it right now, found another site a few clicks north-northwest. Just the two so far, no Oiggy.” Like most mammals, Stoney decided against trying to pronounce the being’s full name.

I assessed the information as I leaned up against a tree trunk, having noticed the lack of a third chair. “So I don’t want to sound like an asshole, but am I only out here so you guys can get in touch with Jouxlya? Because she’s not gonna want to talk to me.”

“We know that already,” spoke the wolf with a snarl. My question was more pointed towards Stoney, Hawthorn knew the answer. it was not that fox which beckoned. “You were her apprentice, though-”

“I’m still her apprentice, Hawthorn. That doesn’t go away, regardless of banishment-”

“Still, you dealt with it more than any animal here. You’re the expert.” He said it like an accusation, a crescendo of anger rising with each word. It was a strange thing to say, Hawthorn’s experience with the Oigd’yiadttigdeit eclipsed my own.

Stoney cleared her throat, braved through the objectively thick snowbank, and handed off her camping cup. “Alright, I’m not a dumbass. I know this whole Oiggy situation is your guy’s baggage. I’m gonna do a few rounds while you hash this out. Help yourself to the thermos, it’s black tea.” The rat then made her way to the snowmobile as the two of us remained silent. The rodent pushed the machine out of the way, so that it wouldn’t spray snow at us, revved up the engine, and was off before she even said goodbye.

“Yeah, so- why’s it back, fox?”

I went over to the thermos, set up on a small, white plastic folding table, and helped myself. “I don’t know.”

“I’m asking this once because it’s my job. You didn’t summon it?”

“Nope, this wasn’t me.”

“And Jouxlya didn’t come back to Michigan to try summoning it?”

Hawthorn was one of the only people that knew that I was lying anytime I told any animal that my fox mentor hated my guts. We hadn’t talked in a while, but we kept close contact. Even despite everything. Even though her actions lead to the death of Azelfrey the Salamander, Hawthorn’s mentor and Jouxlya’s own wife. Even though she was the reason Hawthorn lost his eye. Even though her actions allowed the Oigd’yiadttigdeit to claim seven Angaimene lives. Even though Jouxlya had murdered the squirrel Foulgydan Jack of the House of Bewilderment. Even though the fox was banished.

“Nah, she’s up in Voyageurs- Or, at least as far as I know. We haven’t talked at all since this whole Archlitch thing started.”

The one-eyed wolf’s voice changed from anger to melancholy. “Alright, yeah, I trust you on this fox.”

“In the interest of honesty. I was getting weird Oigd’yiadttigdeit vibes from the Record, but I didn’t think it’d be going on immediately.”

“Why do you know how to pronounce that so well?”

“I spent, like, an hour practicing.”

The wolf paused to take a sip of tea, “I can’t blame you for that, though. Record stuff is so beyond me.”

“Yeah, it was a muddled little message. Hindsight’s twenty-twenty.” It wasn’t that muddled, I’m just a dumbass. “But yeah, you want help finding it?”

The wolf took another sip, “Honestly, Stoney and Matchstick have been wanting to call a Witchmoot all morning-” an Awngaimene town hall, “I just really wanted to make sure you weren’t guilty. I’d be very sorry if we accidentally started a mob and got you killed.”

“I appreciate the concern.” I was not looking forward to each and every Awngaimene beast in town sussing me out, though. My connection to the other fox made me the most likely candidate for causing the Oigd’yiadttigdeit to come to town.

“I’ll call the Hauksborques. You see if you can’t get a hold of Jouxlya. Stoney will get in touch with Lavitia, and in the meantime, I’ll get Entwinner to put out a mass text to make sure no one goes into the woods.”

“Why are you telling me-”

“It helps me organize my thoughts if I say it out loud.”

The trek back to civilization was made far easier by the use of modern transportation. Matchstick and Stoney arrived with their snowmobiles, disassembled the camp, and helped us make our way back to the trailhead in no time. I couldn’t stop myself from casting panicked gazes at every turn, however. The Oigd’yiadttigdeit was in the forest.

At the parking lot, the tan-furred, hooded coyote dressed in a neon-green, high visibility jacket parted ways. “I s’pose someone’s gotta keep an eye on the woods. Make sure no folks head towards the messed up areas.” He stuck a tan park ranger’s hat over his hooded head, in order to pretend to have authority over where Tystwole hikers might go. The coyote had always been a mysterious and solitary mammal. As soon as I got to my car, I received Mulgywai Entwinner’s text. The Witchmoot was to be held at Esu’s at six-o’-clock.

Stoney, Hawthorn, and I decided to make our way towards Esu’s early. Lavitia and Willoughby were already present, naturally. As soon as I parked, I texted Florence to see if there were any updates down south. Alicent was still working on the magical medical procedure, so Florence and Touchstone weren’t going to be showing up.

Foulgydan The Lady Juxtaposed arrived first, with the rabbit Mulgywai Chance once again acting as chauffeur. Foulgydan Furbag, the Bones of Grace, also hitched a ride. It was rare for the undead squirrel make a public appearance. Grace the Deathless herself was unable to leave her estate, by merit of being a ghost. The draconic Foulgydan Annandax wouldn’t arrive either, having decided to go out hunting for the Oigd’yiadttigdeit himself, but Marquette’s fifth Foulgydan was due to arrive at Esu’s this evening. Foulgydan Monty the Copperarm of House Daumont, the badger who achieved immortality in the way in which Gilgamesh himself couldn’t, by staying awake for six days and seven nights. he had killed. The House Daumont was one of the first Awngaimene Houses to settle in Marquette, though Monty himself hadn’t participated in much of its affairs as of late, probably due to him being a wealthy Foulgydan, and not really needing to.

Also in attendance were the skunk Claudia, Bernard the St. Bernard, the turtle Mulgywai Fons, the horny shrew Moss Agate, the silent Mulgywai Miguel, fucking Sappha, the barista Achilles, the robin Mulgywai that I really never talked to, Mulgywai Entwinner, the rat named Alabaster who showed up at the bar two chapters ago, that one squirrel named Eric that showed up at the bar four chapters ago, a couple of the college students from the Hg’lichigk Mourqu chapter that were Fangdyne Tystwoles now; I think there’s one other Mulgywai on staff that I haven’t really brought up in the book so far, but they didn’t want their name in the book, so I’m not going to write it now; they were there, and finally; the star-nosed mole Deign Dargnionge, who’s skin fungus had cleared up. I’m good at my job. Even High Sage Marsden and the wolf Mark made it. Obviously, there were far more animals in attendance. The parking lot situation was a nightmare, and I was happy that Esu’s wasn’t directly in town, because that much sudden car traffic would look suspicious. But an organized list of every Awngaimene animal that lives in town would both be exhausting to read, and a massive breach in privacy (reminder: ask all of the aforementioned animals if they’re comfy being in my book).

Awngaimene old and young sat at the tables and perched at the walls. Even Cwalborde cubs were in attendance, running around and squealing with naivety, the Witchmoot being the only circumstance that children would be allowed in the bar. Only a few animals asked if I had somehow decided that it was a good idea to now suddenly beckon the Oigd’yiadttigdeit to Marquette, but no one that I’d named in the book so far. I shrugged, equally in the dark as the rest of them.

The Lady Juxtaposed was by far the most active Foulgydan in the Marquette Awngaimene community, so The Lady Juxtaposed was the first to call the Witchmoot to order, speaking with two voices. Every animal fell silent as The Lady Juxtaposed, dressed in a white pea coat, stood on an elevated section of the bar, haphazardly transformed into a makeshift stage. The Lady Juxtaposed’s full exposed head was on display; half of a rabbit and half of a blue jay. You could see The Lady Juxtaposed’s tongue wagging through the gap on the side of The Lady Juxtaposed’s split beak.

“Thank you, every animal, for coming to this summoned Witchmoot. Mulgywai Entwinner was gracious enough to write you all the details concerning this situation on his telephone, so that this does not come to a surprise. But the Oigd’yiadttigdeit is in Marquette.” The Lady Juxtaposed pronounced the word flawlessly. “It’s presence has last been spotted over twenty kilometers towards the westernly direction, but its current whereabouts are unknown. Lavitia has also been gracious enough to open her establishment for any beast to stay as long as they’d like. This situation is quite dire, and though we shall not prevent you from returning to your homes, do know that we strongly discourage it. At the moment, Hauksborque Matchstick and Foulgydan Annandax are hunting for the Oigd’yiadttigdeit, and I’ve enlisted the Hauksborque from Thunder Bay to help as well. They shall soon be joined by another team, consisting of Hauksborque Stoney, Mracksiogne Hawthorn, Forseti Fox, and me. We will not take any more volunteers. We will not have a repetition of last time.” Where seven Awngaimene and Azelfrey the Salamander met their demise. “Foulgydan Copperarm and Foulgydan Furbag have graciously offered to safeguard the Witchmoot for as long as it is called. I will now open up the Witchmoot to questions.”

Strangely enough, Mulgywai Chance was the first voice to rise up over the quietly panicking murmur of voices, “Would you like me to come with, Foulgydan The Lady Juxtaposed?”

“No, Mulgywai Chance. I am very thankful that you have driven me in your car, but I would like not to have you in needless danger, though your heart is strong.”

It wasn’t statistically likely that the next animal that spoke up was another named character in this book, but High Sage Marsden surprised me by shouting, “So, to those of us newer animals who weren’t actually given any useful information; just this incomprehensible text, and were expected to come out to this bar for God knows why. What exactly is this-” The peacock, too, had a difficulty pronouncing the word, and waved his wing-paw around maniacally, “Oh-ig-yad-tit-ight?” I heard a younger, college-aged voice that I didn’t recognize shout, “Yeah!”

The Lady Juxtaposed softly explained, “The Oigd’yiadttigdeit is a terrifying presence. Its actions are chaos and it finds joy in death. It is a pale-skinned, four-legged, two-armed being with limbs like blades. It is difficult to describe in words beyond that. It is the size of a feral elephant, and it has the capacity to dramatically alter the natural makeup of any living thing it touches. Your feathers may turn into fur, but it is more likely that your heart and brain will turn into something that cannot keep your body alive. It cannot be stopped, but it does not linger for long.” No Witchmoot was called for Hg’lichigk Mourqu, and no Witchmoot was called for the Archlitch. This was something the Foulgydan considered a true threat.

Marsden continued, “And why is it here all of the sudden?”

The Lady Juxtaposed answered. “Would Forseti mind coming up here to explain?” I cleared my throat and took extra care to clear my mind, making my way through the crowd. I wasn’t suspicious of anything, besides maybe calling Jouxlya here and there, but it was always a gut reaction anytime the psychic Foulgydan stood nearby.

I was almost too distracted to notice that The Lady Juxtaposed’s declaration prompted an explosive reaction from the peacock, “That asshole is responsible for something again? Jesus-fucking-Christ-”

The Lady Juxtaposed cut him off, “Forseti is not responsible. It is that his mentor had studied the being more than anyone in this room.” And that mentor was potentially responsible. but the peacock noticed something, that the Oigd’yiadttigdeit was summoned, for the Ascent towards the Godhead, for it is not a matter of fault, but a matter of Fate. and the skunk saw as well, clear for the first time.

I then proceeded to speak, “I don’t honestly know what to say here. I don’t think I have any more information this time than I did a couple of years ago. Um, I’m kind of thinking that we should head out as soon as we can- well, not because I’m excited to see the Oigd’yiadttigdeit. The opposite is true. But I don’t think we’ll learn any more information until we encounter it, unfortunately. You all are safe here, though, for sure.” There was no way to know that for certain.

The Lady Juxtaposed studied me, two mismatched eyes analyzing my mind. “For those who doubt, I can attest that Forseti has not summoned the being.”

“Kind of offended that you felt the need to do that, but thank you for the vote of confidence.”

Another animal’s voice called out, a doberman woman by the looks of it, “I’m sorry, it hasn’t been brought up yet; has anyone, uh- died yet from this encounter?”

Stoney then pushed through the crowd and joined the two of us, “No- Or, not as far as we know. Matchstick found a site with Oiggy activity; he found that through the Record, but as far as we know, no bodies.”

Lavitia’s voice was the next to cut through the gently rumbling murmurs of relief. “I’m making a vegetable stew, baking bread too- No one’s gotta buy anything, it’s for if anyone’s hungry. Still gotta pay for drinks, though I’m not gonna let anyone get drunk. Some folks brought board games, I think. Like The Lady Juxtaposed said, no one’s required to stay here, but it should be hospitable if anyone wants to stay overnight. I don’t have a lot of chargers, though, so make sure to share if your phone dies or something.”

Then, an Awngaimene named Annie spoke up; a shepherd-dog woman with a degree in medicine. “Piggy-backing off of that, if anyone had to leave work today, come see me if you want me to forge a doctor’s note. I’ve got premades.” Another soft chorus of murmurs and thanks reverberated throughout the bar, and then Marsden spoke once more. There was malice in his stare, and contempt in his voice.

“That’s all great, but what’s being done for the other animals in Marquette?”

Strangely enough, it was the Foulgydan Copperarm who the first to answer, “We’re all here, Mulgywai Chance took a tally-”

“No-” interrupted the peacock, “The other animals in Marquette. The non-magical folks, anyone keeping tabs on-”

“Well, it’s not like we’ve got access to police records or anything, that’s not our job,” rebutted the Mulgywai that wanted to remain anonymous.

“So you all don’t know if anyone’s died-” The peacock’s lupine fiance slowly made his way next to his partner, looking very awkward amongst this company of magical animals, all casting glances that looked various shades of offended.

Someone then shouted, “What do you care, don’t you literally rob-”

“Oh yeah, because robbing rich assholes is just as bad as letting animals die,” spat Marsden angrily. The murmur of the crowd grew more mob-like, until Lavitia utilized a piercing, booming tone to ask a question.

“Anyone know if Marianne’s here?” The mere mention of the Sphynx caused the room to go silent.

The Lady Juxtaposed’s head tilted toward its rabbit side. “I do not understand the intention behind your question.”

“Marianne, the other fox too- Florence, they’re not here. Are they all good, Forsy?” The bovine bartender’s focus shifted towards me quicker than the eye could follow, as soon as she said my name. I mumbled a befuddled answer, “Yeah, uh- No, yeah, they’re good. In Louisiana. Doing… uh, medical magic for Touchstone. Y’know, stuff I can’t do yet.”

“You literally could have asked me,” I heard Sappha retort. I chose to ignore her. The Lady Juxtaposed continued. “I still don’t understand the intention of your question.” It was obvious that The Lady Juxtaposed was perturbed by something in the impala’s question, and was actively reading her mind.

“Touchstone’s bones got broken pretty bad in the whole Archlitch situation,” I continued, sensing a palpable tension between the Foulgydan and the bartender as both chose to remain quiet.

“I literally know how to heal that,” continued Sappha, which prompted me to snap, “Well I know that now, Sappha, I can remember that, Sappha.” I was still onstage, and my own fur began to stand up straight the more tense I became. From right beside me, Marsden blurted out once more, “So animals are just going to die this evening, if I’m to be understood?” A cacophony filled the room. Everyone under stress started to scream out more questions, and every argumentative animal hashed out an argument with someone.

And then, the room suddenly and quietly became silent once more. Every beast straightened up, with their eyes glazed over, and stared towards the center of the room. Mine as well. The Lady Juxtaposed had infiltrated each and every animal’s mind in order to force them to be quiet and pay attention. And then, after about five seconds, The Lady Juxtaposed released The Lady Juxtaposed’s hold on everyone and began to speak. “We must avoid this panic, above all else. Be mindful to your host, who has offered her place of business so graciously.” Apparently, whatever The Lady Juxtaposed found in Lavitia’s mind wasn’t that suspicious after all. “Be mindful to your neighbor, with whom you make your community stronger. Marsden, your concern for the Tystwoles is noble. Our group will be leaving within the minute, and we will do everything in our power to prevent any animal from coming to harm. Awngaimene or Tystwole. Foulgydan Monty and Foulgydan Furbag will answer any further questions. Mracksionge Hawthorn, would you be so kind as to drive?”

The one-eyed wolf spoke up, “Um, I don’t- uh, I think Forseti’s got more room in his car.”

“Forseti, would you be so kind as to-”

“Yeah, I can drive.” I was holding onto three-fourths of a gin and tonic and begrudgingly passed it off to Marsden, who was next to me. Also, I can still drink when pregnant with spores, if anyone’s worried about that. Something to do with yeast appreciating fermented products.

The peacock’s eyes crossed, and his fanned feathers closed, but he took the glass, “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” It was fucking Tanqueray, too.

Stoney wanted a smoke by the time we made it to the Noquemanon North Trails Trailhead, just north of Marquette. The rodent carelessly rolled her own cigarette from the backseat of my car, spilling loose tobacco everywhere and The Lady Juxtaposed once again wore a balaclava, in case any animals were out hiking this late.

It was well and truly night now. A light dusting of snow had begun to fall. It probably wouldn’t have stuck around if it weren’t for the fact that the snowdrifts from earlier remained. The Lady Juxtaposed gracefully exited the vehicle as soon as Stoney bolted out to enjoy her smoke, but the Mracksionge wolf stayed behind, watching as I frantically scribbled notes down in my little notebook.

“What’cha doing there, fox?”

My eyes went wide and my fluffy tail went erect; I always felt self-conscious whenever someone saw me writing things. “I, uh- Notes for the book. There were a lot of animals at the Witchmoot and it’s always a bitch to keep track of, like, scenes with so many characters.”

“No, yeah, probably doesn’t help that things got a bit intense.”

“And the brain infiltration wasn’t fun-” Even though The Lady Juxtaposed couldn’t hear me, the Foulgydan turned to shake her head slowly, offended that I was talking shit about The Lady Juxtaposed’s tactics. “Well, it wasn’t, Foulgydan The Lady Juxtaposed,” I started speaking, though only Hawthorn could hear. “Animals don’t really like it when their thoughts get, like, messed with-”

The chaos was annoying me. The Lady Juxtaposed communicated telepathically.

“I’m just talking about- I don’t know, Foulgydan The Lady Juxtaposed, animals find it uncomfortable, don’t shoot the messenger.”

“Is The Lady Juxtaposed talking with you?” asked Hawthorn.

“Is the Lady Juxtaposed not talking with you?” asked I.

“Nope.” answered Hawthorn, who then changed the subject. “How’s the book coming along, though? I wanted to ask.”

“I thought we’d have the final Archlitch showdown soon, so I was expecting it to come to a close. I’m kind of hoping I don’t have to, like, make a two-parter now that-” I gestured around madly, “This is going on. I don’t know, writing is always more tedious than I think it’s going to be.”

“Do you not enjoy writing?”

I thought about the question silently for a long span of time, “Yeah, I like it, it’s- I really have to be in the mood to hit my stride, but overall, I like it. I shouldn’t complain too much. Have you started writing anything yet?”

“Nope, looks like you beat me to it, fox.”

“Eh, you’ll have your own fucking Fangdyne Tystwole soon, or something. I guess it doesn’t have to be that same exact story.”

Hawthorn chuckled lightly, “Well, if it’s autobiographical, that’s a little out of my paws.”

“You’re entirely correct about that.”

The rodent Hauksborque then started slamming on my driver’s side window, strong enough that I started to fear that she’d actually break the glass. “Alright, you pussies have been hogging the heat long enough-”

I opened the door and stepped out into the frigid winter, “You were literally having a smoke break-”

“What, it’s too cold to hang out with me while I smoke? You boys got way thicker fur than I do, and I’m happy as a clam.”

I shivered immediately, “Well, I’ve got, like, fungal stuff. It doesn’t like the cold.”

“Pussy.”

“What’s up your ass?”

Stoney then stomped over to The Lady Juxtaposed as the stoic Foulgydan was staring out into the woods. “Better not get too argumentative, eh fox? TLJ’s gonna hijack our brains again.” Stoney then gave The Lady Juxtaposed a friendly, yet stern slap on the back.

“Refer to me as The Lady Juxtaposed,” corrected The Lady Juxtaposed.

Stoney then shrunk down sheepishly. “Sorry, force of habit.”

“I would appreciate it if you were to break that habit,” warned The Lady Juxtaposed, “I cannot sense the Oigd’yiadttigdeit with my psychic abilities. Have you been able to sense it through your access to the Record, Forseti?”

I closed my eyes and focused intently, allowing my senses to drift away, and any relevant information to flow into me. head towards your house.

“Actually, yeah, it seems it went, like-” I sighed, not excited about how suspicious this made me. “North. In the direction towards my house, I think? I don’t like that.”

The Lady Juxtaposed stared at me. Mismatched eyes squinted from the slit in the dark fabric. “Was it attempting to reach you at your house?”

I flexed my shoulders madly, indicating my confusion. “I mean, like- Not as far as I know. You checked my mind earlier to see if I summoned it or something, I’m still completely stumped.”

“Should we drive towards your house then?” asked Hawthorn.

“Yeah, I guess. We can park up there and walk around the service trails and stuff.”

Stoney threw her cigarette into the snow and stomped on it, “I’ll let Matchstick know, we’ll all head towards that direction.”

Within moments, the four of us were on the road again, gently plowing over the snowy roads. No other vehicles were on the road, and the only sound was the gentle hum of the engine. The sudden lack of conversation was becoming uncomfortable. “Are there any songs anyone feels like listening to or something? I don’t live that close.”

“Weltanschauung, do you all like Weltanschauung?” answered Stoney, though she was speaking over Hawthorn, who asked. “Do we have time for Hazeblazer, or, um-” Neither post-grunge dad rock and droney stoner music seemed preferable to awkward silence.

“You guys have to, like, pick songs from CD’s I actually own. My car doesn’t let you connect an aux cord.”

“What CD’s do you got?” questioned the rat. “Do I even wanna know?”

“What do you mean by that?” I queried defensively.

Stoney proceeded to fetch her phone from her pocket as she flipped on the device’s flashlight with weirdly exaggerated motions with her paws, “I’m just saying, it better not all be musical theater soundtracks or-” She found herself stumped as she began looking through the now-lit compartment between the seats. “I have no idea who any of these artists are.”

“Stoney, I’m not that much of a hipster. I’m pretty sure I’ve got, like, Purple Floyd and Pink Rain in there, you have to at least know those-”

“I don’t know, man. I know Weltanschauung. And Pile of Dirt.”

The Lady Juxtaposed then spoke up, “I do enjoy the music of old Broadway plays. I find myself drawn towards the music of the nineteen-fourties and fifties.”

“I’m so sorry, The Lady Juxtaposed, I don’t think I have those CD’s.”

Hawthorn then added to the chaos by grumbling, “I thought I got you Hazeblazer on CD a few birthdays ago-”

“Hawthorn, that album’s, like, one song, and it’s an hour long, I don’t live that far away-”

I was almost too distracted to see the massive corpse of what looked like a slimy, tentacled sea creature, not unlike the mythical kraken, growing out of the top branches of a tree. The massive bulk of the creature caused the woody plant to collapse, and even knocked down a few other trees directly next to the kraken. Eyes grew out of the wood as well, illuminated in the car headlights, glazed over in death.

My tires squealed. I fought the impulse to slam on the breaks, considering the ice on the roads, and let my car fishtail a bit before regaining control and avoiding the disgusting sea creature that partially obscured the road. but it wasn’t around any longer. The Oigd’yiadttigdeit, judging from what The Lady Juxtaposed and I could then discern, had left a while ago, but I still mentally beat myself up for letting getting distracted, underestimating the sheer terror this creature was capable of.

“You good, fox?” asked the rodent Hauksborque. Hawthorn instinctively reached his grey-furred arm out to prevent me from flying forward, and I found myself doing the same to him with my much-weaker arm. The Lady Juxtaposed remained as stoic and poised as ever, though if The Lady Juxtaposed’s face held any fear, I couldn’t tell from the balaclava.

“Yeah, no, I’m good.” I slowly came to a stop and parked on the road. “Shit, yeah, the Oigd’yiadttigdeit was here.”

“We must destroy the evidence before any Tystwole comes across this.” advised the psychic Foulgydan. “Hauksborque Stoney, what methods of disposal do you and Hauksborque Matchstick have for this case?”

“Well, I can probably pick up the corpse and get it out of the way,” The rodent was remarkably strong normally, but was also well-versed in the Applied Force spell as well. “But that’s just a band-aid fix. Gonna have to break out the folding chair on this motherfucker and set it on fire, I think.”

“Then set it on fire.”

The Apothecary Alicent had convinced Marianne to allow her to use one of the rooms of her lab. Though it wasn’t nearly at the level of a hurricane, a heavy storm threatened to hit the Bayou, and the alligator had no interest in driving through it. The Sphynx, against the odds, agreed to the alligator’s request, but retired to her menagerie all the same. The sun had set a few hours ago, and though Palais was no longer confined to his stone form, I hadn’t seen him yet. The healer and the blackbird were busy in the other room. I had no one to really talk to that afternoon, but I wanted to remain near Touchstone until he was fully healed, in case he, or Alicent, needed anything.

I had texted Jacksie earlier in the day, but she was driving a long distance with Rowena in the car, and I needed to switch to texting the deer instead. Apparently, the two had met with the Foulgydan Resurrection Mary, who requested that the cat and deer leave Chicago immediately. They were too close to the Archlitch situation after all, by merit of knowing me, and it wouldn’t have been safe. Why the Foulgydan didn’t tell them that fact a few days prior was a baffling mystery to me, but now, Jacksie and Rowena were forced to visit with a friend of ours who moved to Des Moines. Too many of the friends and family they could reasonably stay with lived in Chicago. It was utterly inconvenient, but they were safe, and hundreds of miles away from the diabolical entity who wore my mother’s body.

I remained in the lounge, and in the kitchen, and even took a brief nap in the guest bedroom. Alicent wanted me to stay out, and there was no world in which I could convince Marianne to let me see the menagerie. Forseti hadn’t even responded to my texts for a few hours, which worried me a little, until he did finally reach out, three hours after my last text. The fox seemed to be in a rush, having only typed one short sentence. You can come back now.

I had completely missed that the sun had set until I looked up from my phone and saw a gargoyle’s face, pleasantly smiling towards me. “Good evening, miss Florence.”

“Good evening, Palais. I hope you slept alright?”

The magical being chuckled as he proceeded to tie on his kilt, “It’s all the same to me, I don’t necessarily get-” his claws turned to air quotes- “Good sleep or bad sleep, as you normal animals do. I must confess, though. I’ve seen what happens when Marianne fails to get enough sleep. I’m not jealous.”

“I guess it’s nice that winter’s coming up, you’re probably awake more often.”

Palais proceeded to sit in the chair next to the chaise, his gentle French accent continuing to prove lovely to listen to. “Indeed, I’ll enjoy the extra time, especially with the eggs due to hatch soon.”

“Have you ever considered living more towards the poles?”

“We actually did, in the late 1800’s. Only during the winter, naturally. We did a lot of traveling those days.”

“You don’t travel as much anymore?”

“It’s not too much of a priority, now that we have the house and the menagerie. Plus there’s too much surveillance these days, what with everyone having a camera on their phone and whatnot. But I’m comfortable enough. I must ask, I’ve noticed that the Apothecary is using our lab, that’s very uncharacteristic of Marianne to let her use that.”

I shrugged, “You’ve missed a lot today- Actually, Alicent being here’s unrelated to the main thing, but everything’s rather hectic up in Michigan. Apparently, the-” I won’t pretend that I pronounce it eloquently, but at least I can write the creature’s name- “Oigd’yiadttigdeit has returned.”

Palais’s capacity for pleasantries had diminished. His pig-and-reptile face soured into a worried scowl, “Is Forseti safe? Does Marianne know?”

“Marianne knows. I think she’s letting the Mulgywai tackle this.” Though it was strange that she didn’t even offer any form of assistance, she just went straight to her menagerie without a single further word regarding Forseti. “But yeah, Forsy’s fine- Well, he hadn’t texted in a while, I became quite worried, but apparently it’s fine for me to return now.” I hadn’t really gotten any other animal’s number, aside from Touchstone, who was obviously one room over.

“Did the Mulgywai call for a Witchmoot?”

“I think so.” I remember seeing that term in the welcome packet. “Should I be there?”

“Well, I can assure you that you’re perfectly safe here. Though, perhaps if Forseti beckoned, and you’re worried for him, attending the Witchmoot seems a prudent idea.” I recalled Forseti mentioning that the meeting was being held at Esu’s.

“I suppose- Yeah, that isn’t a horrible idea- Palais, do you have a phone?”

“I only use Marianne’s- But yes, do text Marianne if you end up going. Are you going to go?”

“Yeah, I think I should.” I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t worried about the other fox. I was additionally worried for Touchstone, but he was in the capable claws of a healer instead of being left to the clutches of a dangerous, diabolical transformative entity.

“I’ll let Marianne know right away, then. Be safe, Florence.”

“I’ll let Alicent know I’m heading off, but I’ll text Marianne soon. Thank you, Palais.” Palais squeezed my knees cordially with his claw, folded up his wings, and went towards the backyard. I scurried over to the door in the hallway, which led to the lab, and popped my head inside. Alicent was drinking what looked to be sweet iced tea, and read from a book in Marianne’s chair. She spoke before I even asked about the bird, “He’ll be asleep for a bit, but he’s all healed. You can head home, fox.”

“Oh! Yeah- thanks for everything.”

“You better get that other fox to learn how to heal broken bones.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

I went to the hallway, crossed the transportive threshold, felt the chilly air of Michigan once more, and made a beeline towards my car. Except I had forgotten, my car was totaled, and left to rot in some junkyard in Chicago. There was no feasible way in which I could make it to Esu’s in a timely manner. Going on hindpaws would be pointless, time consuming, and dangerous. And yet, I lingered in the hallway of Forseti’s Foxhole, momentarily hesitant to venture further, or head back. The unlit home was quiet, and gave off a certain uncanniness that didn’t sit well.

But I made a decision. I stepped out into the chilly air. A light snow had started to fall while I was in Louisiana, but the characteristic chill of the Upper Peninsula remained no different with the addition of precipitation. I almost detected a hint of smoke on the breeze, with the faintest trace of burning flesh, as though a massive grill were being used somewhere in the forest. I texted Forseti once more, to no avail. I then proceeded to call him, even though I knew that the fox usually had his phone on silent, which was strange, considering how much he liked to call other animals. I left a voicemail, even though it added no new information than my texts did. Logic was not a primary factor to my decisions, even though said decisions would alter something within me forever.

“Hey, Forseti, I’m back in Michigan- Everything’s fine with Touchstone, he’s healing. I got your text, but you didn’t elaborate. I’ve been a little worried. This entity seems fairly dangerous and I don’t really know-”

“Is someone out there?” A deep, bellowing voice reverberated throughout the woods. I recognized it as belonging to someone I knew, but the exact identity lingered outside of the borders of my recognition. Familiarity didn’t stop me from freezing up out of fear, however. I quietly ended the call and said nothing.

“I see someone’s house- oh, dahbin io?”

“Awngaimene.” I responded.

“Good, good. It seems the Hauksborque’s predictions have led me to your home- Whoever’s home this is. I’m afraid I must insist that you come with me to the Witchmoot, the Oigd’yiadttigdeit has been spotted nearby.” The shape of a large, tall animal lingered within the poorly-lit treeline. My eyes hadn’t adjusted enough to make out many details, but I noticed that he had massive wings and tall, spiraling horns atop his head. I began to walk towards the shape.

“Um, I apologize, I’m not entirely certain I recognize you-”

But he noticed me before I could notice him. Foulgydan Annandax of House Ozgillian, the dragon, stomped through the snow towards my direction. “Wait a minute, are you that Fangdyne Tystwole fox?” His voice then took on an angry and disappointed tone, “We called for a Witchmoot, you have to get to Esu’s now. Did you not know what that text meant? The information was in your welcome packet.” I recalled the mass text that I’d received earlier, though I got most of the information from Forseti first.

“I’m sorry, Foulgydan Annandax. I was in Louisiana with Marianne, though, don’t worry.”

“Oh, right, right. The Frote Foulgydan with her magic keys. What are you doing here now, though? You have to leave.”

“I was- um, I was worried. Forseti told me to come back, but hasn’t gotten back-”

“Ah, the fox is fine,” assured the orange-scaled dragon, “at least as far as I know, no one has come to harm yet. Do you have a vehicle? I’m afraid I have to insist upon taking you back to Esu’s.”

“I crashed my car.”

“Then we’ll take mine, though it is a bit of a walk.”

I cast a glance back towards Forseti’s house. “I was staying with Marianne, maybe we could go back-”

“Marianne would shoot me on sight for my occupation alone. No, no, it’ll be better if we stay with the Awngaimene. If I may be candid, I wouldn’t be staying with the Sphynx- Ah, but you’re her Apprentice now, I forget myself.” I hadn’t entirely told the truth about that yet. But I didn’t want to argue with the dragon.

“Alright then, let’s head back.”

“I’m glad that we’re in agreement.”

The walk through the snowy, cold wilderness was awkward and quiet. The Foulgydan didn’t feel as though he had too much to say, and the sense of worry within me, humming just below the surface of my skin, distracted most of my thoughts. I was naturally worried about Forseti, but for whatever reason, this particular situation almost felt like some proverbial final straw upon a feral camel’s back, even though I’d mentally reached a desirable place just the other day. The dragon walked with a massive stride, and it was impossible to keep up without me having to attempt to jog through the growing snowdrifts every couple of minutes. It wasn’t as though no words were exchanged during the walk, but they were broken up by long, intermittent pauses. At one point, I broke such a pause to ask, “Foulgydan Annandax, if I may ask, what are you doing out here?”

The magical reptile made a flippant motion with his claw, to indicate disgust, “The damnable Mulgywai here have apparently decided that we only need two Hauksborque for the entire community. Which is absolute madness, if you ask me. You get these sorts of situations where we need to do a sweep of the entire forest surrounding the city. And, what? Two animals are going to do it? It’s these sorts of cases where the duty then falls to us Foulgydan, and- Wait, do you hear that?” I hadn’t heard until he pointed it out, but off in the distance ahead of us, someone was moaning in pain. It was a masculine voice, harsh and deep, as though he’d been screaming for a while, and his throat had been rendered ragged and dry. I did not recognize the voice.

“Someone’s ahead of us.” I stated, despite it being obvious.

“Wait one moment,” Annandax cleared his throat and then shouted, “Dahbin io?”

The voice had certainly heard us, but failed to respond with the correct answer. “Help, help! Someone, please, help! Help! I’m over here!” It was clear that he was in pain, but with the weakness in his voice, whatever had afflicted him had done so hours ago.

“Well, damn it all. Come, come.” Annandax once again marched off at a speed I couldn’t catch up with. I watched as he cast a Glamour in order to hide his wings and horns. He looked as though he could pass as a normal reptile, albeit a bodybuilder.

What we saw was horrifying. A beaver man lay down in the snow, writhing slowly in agony, though it was only half of his face that indicated that he was once a beaver. His legs had been transformed into a mess of tentacles, most of which had been stepped on and crushed, lying there bloody. His right arm had transformed into a crab’s claw. His torso had transformed into tree bark. His left arm, a multitude of vines, wrapped into themselves, growing into the snowy soil. His left eye had been replaced with what looked to be an oyster without a shell. His red flannel was in tatters, and a hunting rifle lay in the snow nearby. I stood there, frozen with fear. I underestimated the true final straw, one more placed upon the feral camel’s broken back.

With a weak, pitiful voice, the man pleaded, “Help, please.”

“Yes, yes. Of course.” replied Annandax. And then he picked up the gun.

I came to my senses as soon as the dragon had begun to aim. “Wait, Annandax-”

The beaver noticed as well, “No, no, no, please-”

Annandax sighed, almost as if he were annoyed. “There’s not much to be done. Look at him.”

“Isn't he a Fangdyne Tystwole?”

“Please, I have kids- I have a family-” The beaver was in excruciating pain, yet his one good eye held a look of intense fear and intense panic, as though he were far from ready to give up on life.

“Florence,” started the dragon, sighing once more, “it’s all just so much effort, you have to understand.”

“But couldn’t we take him to an Apothecary, or- there’s got to be some sort of magic-”

A shot rang out. And then the cocking of a rifle. And then a second shot.

The beaver said nothing more. He was dead.