#wanted to and figure out a way to draw the lamb + the goat just for shits n gigs

[d3rpydoods]

I'm in a lot of interesting places fandom-wise as of late, okay

[ghostiguro]

woe, bishops upon ye ((my wrists ache so damn much))

i wasn’t happy with the ones i did originally & i wanted to change some details, so here’s a newer version that i am much happier with. :3

ok ramble time ;3c

- leshy: not much changed with his design, just changed some colours. of all the previous refs i did, his was the one i was the least happy with; much happier with this version though. :3👍

- heket: again, not much changed for her design, just changed the colours since the ones before were BLEH (i learned it was something to do with my program settings so i fixed that.!!) with her old ref, she was meant to have a little more chub on her tummy & muscle on her arms, but she had neither of those things so it looked wonky. this version is much more accurate to my original vision for her. :0

- narinder: basically nothing changed cuz he’s perfect already, but i finally figured out how to draw anthro kitties ((sorta)). i also made sure he looked extra fluffy & more like a maine coon, which is the breed of cat i based him on.

- kallamar: i figured out how to draw tentacles & i remembered to add his freckles this time. :D also there is no squidussy. let a man free his tentacles without judgement smh.

- shamura: so their design changed the most; colours changed, their eye colour changed, i added extra bug leggies (like leshy’s lil leg thingies), their head scar is actually visible (still kinda figuring out how their head injury would look after it’s mostly healed, so the scarring might change as i draw them more), & finally!! spider paws. :3 spiders & tarantulas are so freaky looking but they have such adorable lil paws, it confuses me as someone with slight arachnophobia. >.> also, they do have a little spider butt, i just didn’t draw it cuz it wouldn’t have been visible anyway with their clothes & arms in the way. same thing with the lamb & the goat, i didn’t draw their tails cuz it would have barely been visible anyway so. meh.

eventually i plan to draw their other forms & what they looked like when they were itty bitty, same with lamb/goat & the cat boys. but my wrist is killing me & i have other ideas i wanna draw so. it’ll have to wait. >_>

anyway, i hope you like them. :3 👉👈

[necromonica]

i love going through tumblr and seeing everyone's headcanons for The Goat so far

especially since they supposedly come from another universe there's so many possibilities there personally my brain has decided it's the cult of the lamb's equivalent of underfell where the Goat came from. or well. fellswap maybe? not too sure.

im gonna start rambling autistically so i'll cut it off here

mostly stemming from the fact that the goat's crown has the shape of the one who waits' but the color of shamura's. i like to imagine that they come from a universe where shamura was the one locked away and became the one who waits instead of narinder as much fun as ouppy nari is...

though that also implies a version of the goat exists in the lamb's universe that was switched around in the goat's but i'll get back to you on that one

also anyone else thinking about how similar the goat's fleece is to the Fleece of the Diseased Heart? because i am and i feel like i can make lore out of that but i haven't decided anything yet.

also if i figure out how to edit cotl save files i wanna make a new save where i play the goat the whole way through and just make all the opposite choices to what i did in my main save. i want to be an absolute dick to my followers for the funny.

anyways rambles over i need to go grab my instant noodles and return to drawing the goat being apeshit

[purlty23]

Anonymously asking the people I follow to talk about something that makes them happy! (I don't remember if i've already asked you this before ignore it if I have) Do me a learn if you're so inclined!

Hello dear anon! I don’t think I have gotten this before, it must have been one of the many that I’m sure slip through tumblr’s cracks. I love any excuse to talk about my interests, this is such a gift! Since we’re in the demon church fandom here, why not some history of demon summoning? Every horror movie you’ve ever seen where demons are summoned in under 24 hours vastly underestimate the work that allegedly went into the practice!

Before anything, I’m going to cite my source for everything here. Grimorium Verum is a grimoire written in the 18th century, though in the books itself it claims to be from 1517. Markedly untrue. It translates to True Grimoire, and it’s one of the only grimoires out there from the era that has a detailed description of the summoning of demons. It shares some things of note with the Greater and Lesser Keys of Solomon, which was written during the Italian Renaissance. You can read Grimorium Verum translated here! One thing you’ll notice if you read it is how quickly the author is to tell you that everything is of consequence. Every action, every word, and even down to the time that they’re done or said is of meaning. It would be incredibly difficult to do it ‘on accident’ going by these guidelines like a lot of pop culture would have you believe First, you’d have to know which demon you want. Each demon has a specific talent or task it can complete. They also have their own sigils. That’s where works like Psuedomonarchia Deamonum, published in 1577, come in handy. Here’s my personal version of it if you’d like to read. It’s a full A-Z list of Hell’s notable demons and their standing in Lucifer’s leagues. Once you’ve figured that out, there’s a lot to plan. Preliminary incantations are just the beginning of pages upon pages of latin that would need to be spoken. The first Invocation is written on virgin parchment- parchment made of a young animal’s tanned hide, likely goat. Purification of the summoner must take place before any instruments for the summoning can be made:

The lancet, made of new steel on the day and hour of Jupiter in the crescent moon. Followed by reciting Orison and the Seven Psalms

The sacrificial knife, which needs to be made of new steel and strong enough to cut through the neck of a young goat. Made on the day of Mars on a full moon. It needs specific carvings on the hilt, and once more follow by Orison and the Seven Psalms

The virgin parchment, which must be made from the sacrificial goat, lamb, or other animal killed with the knife above. All other instruments must remain on the altar at the time of creation.

Two rods; both of hazel wood, one cut in a single stroke on the day and hour of Mercury on a cresent moon, one cut in a single stroke on the day and hour of the Sun. Followed by none other than Orison

Confused about all these days and hours? No worries- those of the time and talent would have had a great grasp on planetary days and hours. Every single step of tanning the virgin parchment comes with it’s own ceremony and incantations, and every action matters.

The summoner must to it all on their own before preparing themselves. They must pray in specific ways at specific times for three days. Seeing how we know this all must start in the day and hour of Jupiter, after those three days of prayer it would be 11 days of preparation.

The actual summoning ritual has to be on a Tuesday. It’s a lot of drawing of sigils, invocations and conjurations. It’s actually the simpler part of everything, if the grimoire is to be believed. However… it claims there to be two kinds of pacts to be made with demons: the tactic and the apparent. The apparent is notably also called the explicit. We can infer quite a bit from that one sly comment by our sassy writer here.

[theotherhufflepuff]

Simon Snow Trilogy Tarot Cards...

Ok so, a little while ago I saw this frankly stunning artwork by @vkelleyart and I started thinking about the Major Arcana archetypes and how characters from my favourite book series could fit into them.

So I made this list. It took a lot of thought and I’m still not 100% sure on some of them but I have explained my thought process for each card.

I don’t know how much crossover there is in the Venn diagram of “Simon Snow fans” and “tarot readers” but I’d love to hear your opinions and/or alternative suggestions (be respectful though, obviously). I’ve left “visual prompts” for most of the cards explaining what they looked like in my imagination and if anyone wants to draw any of these (or their own alternative version!) please tag me; it would make my day! I can’t draw for toffee so I am 1000% never gonna try to illustrate any of them myself.

List under the cut because it is loooong.

Spoilers ahead for the whole series!

0 The Fool - Shepard - Shepard just follows magickal creatures around and says “yes” to everything... he is the pure embodiment of the Fool archetype to me; care-free, innocent... prepared for everything and yet totally clueless. Visual prompt: Shepard about to (attempt to) step into the fog as he follows a fairy into the forest.

1 The Magician - Penelope - “Penelope Bunce is a fierce magician, I don’t mind saying” Baz, at least once in each book. Penny never worries about not having the power or words available to do whatever she wants; she is comfortable in her power and it is always there, ready to be wielded however she sees fit. Visual prompt: Penny wearing her Stevie Nicks cape, standing by a chalkboard in the classic “Magician” pose, ring clearly held aloft.

2 The High Priestess - Dr Mitali Bunce - Dr Bunce is possibly a more formidable magician than her daughter. Highly intelligent, straightforward and, let’s be honest, judgemental. But she does have all the answers. Visual prompt: Dr Bunce carrying around her laptop, phone sandwiched between her ear and her shoulder.

3 The Empress - Lucy Salisbury - Lucy exudes the nurturing, Earth Mother vibes that are central to the Empress archetype. She saw the best in everyone and all she wanted was to love Davy and live with him in their cottage with her chickens and their child. Visual prompt: Lucy, barefoot and pregnant, feeding the chickens outside of their cottage.

4 The Emperor - Lamb - This is one of the ones I’m not totally sure about. I went through a few different ideas but ultimately settled on Lamb as the “Vampire King of Las Vegas”. He is an imposing figure, ruling his city with an iron fist; if you are in his favour, Vegas is your playground, but cross him and you will suffer the consequences. Visual prompt: Lamb sits on an antique chair in his opulent suite at the Katherine, the lights of night time Vegas visible through the window behind him.

5 The Hierophant - The Mage - Again, this one took some thought and I’m sure some people will disagree with this interpretation... I’m not completely sold on it myself. The Mage was all about reforming the old traditions of the World of Mages and he amassed a following by doing so. But he turned out to be somewhat of a false prophet; abusing his power to oppress those he deemed “the enemy”. Visual prompt: The Mage in his Robin Hood costume, sitting at his desk at the top of the Weeping Tower, surrounded by his piles of banned books.

6 The Lovers - Simon and Baz - Obviously. As stated at the top of this post, I love @vkelleyart’s version of this card, but there are a lot of scenes across the series that could be used to illustrate this archetype. I personally always love to see the original “and then he kisses me” scene.

7 The Chariot - Fiona Pitch - I struggled with this one a bit and I don’t really think that this is the ideal version. But the image of Fiona, rolling up to Blackfriars bridge in her vintage sports car to rescue Baz from the Numpties really stuck with me so that’s what I went with, for lack of a better idea.

8 Strength - Ebb - Ebb is often dismissed and underestimated by other magicians but she is wicked powerful. But more than that, the Strength card is about inner strength, self control and the wisdom to know when to fight, and when to rest. Ebb is highly intuitive about the people - and goats - around her and is always careful not to talk about her twin brother, only conceding that she knows of his presence once a year and never giving in to the temptation to talk directly to him. Ebb saw the war coming and knew that she could probably end it all by herself with the power she had; but she also knew that she didn’t want that and she had the strength to say no, to eschew the expectations the rest of the World of Mages placed upon her and live quietly, instead. Visual prompt: Ebb in the hills behind the school with the goats, she wears a flower crown that the Dryad made her.

9 The Hermit - Agatha - the Hermit eschews the outside world in order to take an inner journey of self discovery, knowing that this is the only way to find real answers and achieve real growth. Agatha, jaded by the World of Mages, took herself off to California, leaving her wand at home. She didn’t know what she wanted but she knew it wasn’t magic. Visual prompt: Agatha sits on the beach at twilight by a small campfire, Lucy the Cavalier King Charles Spaniel by her side.

10 The Wheel of Fortune - The Crucible - The Crucible’s decisions, like the Wheel’s, are unpredictable and inevitable. Once it’s happened, you’re stuck with the consequences - sometimes bad (being stuck with a toff vampire who hates you) and sometimes good (getting the best room in Mummers house).

11 Justice - Natasha Grimm-Pitch - Natasha needed justice to find peace; her whole story is about justice. She was swift to act when the vampires attacked Watford, dispatching them without hesitation. When she came through the veil to find Baz and ask him to bring her murderer to justice, she knew that would also provide some closure for him, too, both for her death, and for his. Visual prompt: Natasha Grimm-Pitch appearing from beyond the veil, looking for Baz and finding Simon.

12 The Hanged One - Nicodemus - The Hanged One is about feeling stuck, but also about finding peace where you are when there’s nothing you can do about it. Nicodemus chose to cross over for eternal life, but he was stricken from the book; his (considerable) magic effectively taken from him and his fangs removed. He was stuck in between - not a full vampire, not a magician; he exists on the fringes of both communities. He got himself there and then he had to figure out how to get by, carve out a place for himself in order to survive. Visual prompt: Nicodemus sits in the tree in the garden of his mother’s house in South London, waiting for Ebb to come and sit on the empty bench beneath him.

13 Death - [scene on the Great Lawn] - Ok, so.. this might need some explaining. My immediate thought for this card was that it should be the Humdrum but Death is all about clearing out the old junk in your life that doesn’t serve you in order to make space for the new. And the Humdrum isn’t making space for anything. So I was thinking about times that has happened in the story and I thought about how the death of the Mage made room for real progress and an end to the war with the old families. Visual prompt: Penny and Baz (literally) run into a fleeing Agatha on the Great Lawn; the Weeping Tower looms in the background, the Mage and Simon visible through the blown-out stained glass windows.

14 Temperance - Simon and the Humdrum - Temperance is, as you might expect, about balance and harmony. Simon used so much magic at once that he couldn’t control it and it tore holes in the magickal atmosphere. Simon had to fill the Simon-shaped hole to restore equalibrium and stop the magickal firmament from collapsing altogether. Visual prompt: Simon kneeling in the Weeping Tower, pouring his magic into the Humdrum as he fades away.

15 The Devil - Smith Smith-Richards - The Devil is about feeling trapped by temptations in your life, often because we’re afraid of what we would do with the freedom we’d have if we let them go. Which got me thinking about Smith-Richards (that name never gets any less ridiculous) and all the magicians who were taken in by the temptation of “fixing” their magic. But it was a false promise and those magicians who narrowly escaped taking Smith-Richards’ spell were all freed from the idea of their magic being “broken” in the first place. Visual prompt: Smith-Richards (looking like the guy who would be cast to play Simon in the Netflix series) standing on a stage in the packed-out White Chapel, rapt audience hanging on his every word.

16 The Tower - The Humdrum - Originally I wanted to use the Weeping Tower for this card because the imagery is on point but the meaning doesn’t match. The Tower is about absolute destruction, the crumbling of something you thought core to your being. The Humdrum steals magic and renders magicians homeless because of it. The Tower is about having to start again from the ground up - just as the Grimms did when all the magic was drained from Hampshire. Visual prompt: The Humdrum, wearing Simon’s face, stands in the grounds of Pitch Manor, laughing. (I have always thought of the holes looking like a burn in a piece of paper - sort of glowing and smouldering at the edges as it eats away the atmosphere. I know the holes can’t actually be seen - the Normals would freak out - but that is imagery I would use here)

17 The Star - Lady Ruth’s candles - The Star is about hope and healing after the devastation of the Tower. Lady Ruth’s candles were a symbol of hope that kept her going when she thought she had lost her children. They provided comfort and, at the end when it became clear the Lucy was gone, the healing of knowing that her child had finally found his way home to his family. Visual prompt: Lady Ruth’s candles in front of a window, a bright star can be seen through the window.

18 The Moon - Agatha and Simon - So, the Moon is all about examining blurred lines between illusion and reality - nothing looks totally clear in the moonlight. It reminded me of how Simon never really seemed to have a clear view of his feelings for Agatha and what their relationship was. When he properly examined his feelings, he found that he didn’t love Agatha and was going through the motions because he thought it was what other people expected of him. Agatha was doing the same. It also brought to mind Simon, going out of his mind worrying about Baz when he was missing - as well as basically every other thought Simon ever has about Baz before Christmas Eve 2015 - and somehow mistaking it for hating him?? Simon is not stupid but sometimes he’s real dumb. Visual prompt: Agatha and Simon meet on the ramparts, both looking for Baz, and break up.

19 The Sun - Simon - This card is all about innocence, optimism and joy. Nothing about this series personifies this more than Simon flying above Shepard’s truck in America, feeling free and hopeful about the future for the first time in over a year. Visual prompt: Shepard’s truck drives through the vast empty desert, the sun beating down. Simon flies above the truck, joy on his face.

20 Judgement - Niamh and Agatha - Ok, this one was hard to figure out and this is maybe not the right solution, but I was very stuck. Judgement is about self improvement through self reflection. As a small twist on that theme; Niamh and Agatha challenge each other’s view of themselves and their interactions with the world around them. Visual prompt: Agatha and Niamh, sweating to death in Niamh’s “shitty Ford Fiesta” (I’m very salty about that line; my Ford Fiesta is lovely and it has aircon). Niamh is frowning, obviously.

21 The World - Simon, Baz, Penny and Shepard - The World is about completeness, the ending of a story, fulfilment and belonging. At the end of AWTWB, Simon has finally found his biological family, he is starting to accept that his boyfriend and his found family love him for who he is, magic or no, and he can finally start to imagine a future for himself. Baz has learned new information about his vampirism, Penny has found new confidence and Shepard is finally fully accepted into the group. Visual prompt: Baz, Penny and Shepard sit on Simon’s sofa (possibly still pink from Baz’s spell, possibly he spelled it navy blue again) Simon sits on the floor. They’re all eating leftover sandwiches and cake from Lady Ruth’s.

[mageicalwishes]

Read on AO3: Here

Rating: Teen And Up 

Summary: "But then, before I even knew what was happening, she was kissing me back. And Crowley, I swear I melted. She tasted of cigarette smoke and spiced rum - Like fire personified.”

Carry On Countdown, Day 6 - WLW (Women Love Women) @carryon-countdown​

Tags: Unrequited Love, Friends With Benefits, Implied Sexual Content (Never Actually Described Though), Pining, Watford Eight Year, Slight Angst, Everyone Is Over 18 Just To Be 1000% Clear, Carry On Countdown 2020 Day 6

Words: 1,580

Ebb

The first time it happened was New Year's Day. We’d stumbled back into our room from our impromptu party on the Lawn with Nicky (After her sister came out and yelled at us), when she suggested that we dance. It was stupid, really - Flinging ourselves about to The Doors, our booze-addled minds incapable of keeping a beat - but it was fun. So fun. She was giggling loudly, spinning me around the room with reckless disregard for our neighbours. And I just couldn’t stop smiling. Everything felt so … big - So light and bold. I didn’t think - I didn’t even know how it happened - I just … did it. 

I’d been thinking about it for months. I’d always known that I liked girls (Well, ever since I figured out what my weird obsession with Kate Bush really was), and then the Crucible went and gave me her. With her copper skin and her salt and pepper waves, that near permanently raised slitted eyebrow; it was impossible not to fall. I’d been infatuated with her since the start, but I’d never actually intended to act on it. I mean, for Merlin’s sake, Ebb, use your brain! But, in that moment, I was drunk enough that I didn’t care to be cautious. I just wanted. I didn’t think about the embarrassment, or the risk, or the rejection. I just thought of her. I let it all go and just did it. I kissed her. Finally.

She stiffened at first, clearly shocked, and my mind snapped back to normality at a sickening pace, desperately trying to recall a memory spell potent enough to erase everything.  But then, before I even knew what was happening, she was kissing me back. And Crowley, I swear I melted. She tasted of cigarette smoke and spiced rum - Like fire personified. And she was so confident with it, working her jaw against mine as she knot her hands in the roots of my hair (I don’t know, maybe she snogged girls all the time. It definitely seemed like she knew what she was doing, and she was always going on about how fit Chrissie Hynde is). Unprepared for reciprocation, I was at a loss. So, I just lay my head back against the wall and let her go - Let her give me everything that I’d been craving. 

And then, as she trailed hot kisses down my neck, she offered me everything - Wrapping her hands around my wrists and tugging them downwards, pressing my palms to the backs of her thighs.

“What do you want?” she’d said, voice low and heady. 

Christ. What did I want? I didn’t even know (Well … I mean, I kind of did, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell her, even with all the Whiskey). But she was asking. Her skin was warm and soft and real in my hands, and she was offering it all to me. I could’ve just … taken it. But I didn’t want it to be like that - Blurry eyed and spur of the moment. So I shook my head.

“I do want to. I just … another time? I want - I think that we should wait” 

Taking a step back she’d smiled, soft and uncharacteristically apologetic. “Alright. Another time. Wanna just go to bed? I think I may have had a bit too much, I’ve got a fucking massive headache.”

Truthfully, I didn’t really want to sleep, despite the increasing heaviness of my eyelids. I wanted to go back to dancing - To pretending that everything was normal. I wanted to spend more time with this Fiona. But I agreed.

Yet, despite my woe, when I came back from the bathroom, she was laid out on my bed, boots and jeans still firmly in place. Unsure, I stood frozen in the doorway, staring at the curve of her back against my sheets until she started laughing at me, lifting up the duvet in invitation.

“Come on, Ebby,” she’d teased. “Don’t go all shy on me,”

So … I went for it, slipping into bed beside her and taking her in my arms; drifting into sleep with the taste of fire still heavy on my lips.

I assumed that it would be over after that - Her promise of ‘Another time’ doomed to go undelivered. Just a mad one-off - but, to my surprise, it continued. We weren’t … anything proper, not really (I mean, she didn’t look at me the same way that she looked at Nicky). But it was something. 

Every now and then she’d come into our room with that wicked glint in her eye, and I knew that I was lost. She’d have me boneless, kissing up my thighs and muttering all kinds of wild things into my ear, before I even had time to wrap my head around why. (My mother would’ve be so disappointed if she’d found out what we were up. She’d always said that the ‘Pitch girl’ was a bad influence). But I needed it. I liked it. 

Alas, I couldn’t stop myself from wanting more. From wanting something real. Something more than just … messing about.

She’d never really shown an interest in having a ‘real’ relationship before, always preferring quick, non-committal flings (Half of which were based off of nothing more than the desire to piss off her parents), but for a mad moment, I convinced myself that maybe she’d make an exception for me.

She was always softer with me when we were like that - Holding me tight against her at night, and reassuring me when I thought I was getting things wrong. But, it went beyond that. Even on days when we wouldn’t have our ‘fun’, she’d still sneak into my bed to cuddle, or press kisses to my clammy forehead when I got one of my cursed migraines. It was … strange. It was if, once we opened that door to intimacy, she couldn’t help herself from creeping through it, even in situations where ‘friends’ would almost certainly draw the line. And then … there was my birthday. 

She’d woken me up at the crack of dawn, jumping on my bed, still in her knickers and worn Queen pyjama shirt, shouting about ‘exciting plans’. And then, after breakfast, she’d driven me out into the countryside and led me into a barn filled with goats and sheep, where she’d set us up a little picnic with pizza, and hot chocolate, and strawberries (She’d even gone so far as to bake me a little ginger cake). “I know it smells like shit in here,” she’d said. “But I thought you’d appreciate the company.”

I’ll admit that, in spite of the gesture, I was a little apprehensive at first. But, after she explained that the farm belonged to her ‘Sister’s pet’ (Which I can only assume was the Fiona way of saying ‘husband’), I soon relaxed. And then, it was lovely. 

We danced, and talked, and laughed, and played with the animals (Fi tried to feed a lamb a piece of pepperoni but I managed to convince her not to). She told me all about her new nephew and I told her about the time me and Nicky accidentally turned our nanny blue. It was friendly. It was nice. And then … she kissed me - Unrushed and to no purpose - and it was perfect. 

So, when she finally had to go (Off to her pre-arranged birthday drinks date with Nicky), I couldn’t find it in myself to dampen the day with the appropriate amount of jealousy. Instead, I left floating far above Cloud Nine, that small, nagging part of my mind teasing me with a hopeful ‘What If?’, despite my better judgement. 

Consumed by the prospect of more, a few weeks before the end of term - Before the end of Watford - I bit the bullet and initiated that regrettable ‘What are we?’ conversation. She’d just laughed, like I was being utterly absurd, in her usual, unbothered way and set me straight with a simple “We’re friends, Ebb. Best friends. Don’t stress yourself out by overcomplicating things, it’s just a bit of fun. Relax. Let yourself enjoy it.”

I was in a foul mood for weeks after that. Even though I knew that that’s all it was - That my foolish, growing love could only ever be one-sided - hearing it hit me like a curse. Left me wounded - Bitter, and broken, and bruised. 

She didn’t know, of course - About the depth of my feelings (I guess I wasn’t as unsubtle as I thought, after all). While she may have a bit of a negative reputation, what with her famously short temper and record-breaking list of detentions, Fi wasn’t cruel. Not to me. Never to me. She didn’t say it to be harsh, or to cut me down, she said it because it was true. ‘Just friends’. Only ever ‘Just friends’

Thinking back, I should’ve stopped it right then and there (It would’ve saved me a lot of heartache). But … I couldn’t give her up. Even though the messy, undefined greyness of the ‘relationship’ that we found ourselves in was so far from what I really wanted, I took it all greedily - Our ‘benefits’ my subpar consolation prize. Her distant touch a hollow shadow of what I longed for. Sometimes it felt like it was tearing me to pieces. Sometimes it felt like it was the only thing holding me together. Sometimes it felt like nothing at all. Like I said … Fiona Pitch is fire personified. And I’d let her burn me a thousand times. 

[asheewrites]

Doctor Visiting - Paris - pt 4

The angel sat there and flipped between the pages of the menu, tapping her finger, or smiling at the words in front of her.

She was distracted enough to let Asmodeus think. These ‘terms and conditions’ for him did not truly limit him. He could do as he pleased and Raphael would… simply refuse him if he ‘got somewhere’.

… but playfulness and teasing was… actively encouraged and possibly engaged with.

Easy to work with. Especially since ‘getting somewhere’ would be defined by him.

Hah.

A rather lenient ‘code of conduct’. By comparison of past ones – if he got one.

 “It’s an impressive menu, sir. It’s a hard choice. Any recommendations?” She smiled sweetly. And spoke French. Seamlessly.

The waiter was pleased. Strings of French explanation falling from his tongue. Different glacing techniques, which salad was in season and how it complimented the truffles, differently ripened oils for dressing. The wild Salmon has a direct route from the ocean to their restaurant, their preparation will remove all fishbones, no need to break any eye contact.

“Very nice, I’d be happy to try it a-“ here she send a glance to Asmodeus, stuck with that for a second, then continued towards the waiter: “- all, but I think meat was an option?”

It did not curb his enthusiasm when he switched tracks and offered her the ‘Foie gras’, ‘Couilles de mouton’ and ‘Ris de veau’, along with stomach and feet and tongue of various animals as well as snails, including the different kinds of preparation.

After two minutes of talk she chewed on her lip and started asking about sauces and preparation techniques. As she asked for the roasting temperature, Asmodeus laughed: “I’d be delighted to eat your second choice, you are free to taste”

Her face lit up immediately. And the order came to: “Tapenade canapés, Jambon persillé, a cheese platter, Couilles de mouton, Le Gigot D'Agneau Pascal, a bottle of still water and… a white wine?”

She looked over to him and he chuckled and agreed: “Sure, we’ll be satisfied with your choice of vintage and origin, thank you”

“Thank you very much. If available, I’d love to peruse the dessert menu. Err... later”

The waiter scribbled and nodded and smiled and informed them their salads would arrive soon and… disappeared.

Raphael sat there. And closed the menu: “Thank you! I mean… I suppose you tried all this already and you know what tasted good, so… thank you for letting me try out something that you might not like and-oh” her face fell. “… I… should have asked”

“Raphael, it’s fine. I offered. But… you didn’t order any fish, is there-” The angel carefully avoided looking at him. Light topic of conversation. Right. “-well, thank you. So, the meat… do you… know what you ordered?”

She perked up: “Oh. Is that about the lamb? I think even Christi-“

“Testicles. You ordered testicles, Raphael.”

Excitedly the angel, nods and reports: “Yes! It’s very rare to have them on the menu. Even though it should be very interesting, since the texture should be different, especially if they ‘sauté’ – whatever that is – them in slices and marinate t before, because muscles are fascinating to work with. I wonder f the semen got drained or stocked in them. The high protein would be interesting. And I do wonder how that tastes, so… yeah, I did order them.“

‘I could help you figure out the taste.‘

It took a moment fight his every instinct. Sometimes, you have to consider your audience, even with the most imperative quips. Instead, he said: “I suppose the lamb will be my course, then,” since he rarely heard someone that excited about eating testicles, so.

“Then it’s decided. I got the three starters that can be the… most weird. So… maybe you get something interesting as well? I avoided cheese, mostly, because it’s rotten milk, but… they make the strangest things taste good. But then again… they have to eat, don’t they? Merci!” Their salad and water arrived. The waiter apparently didn’t have that many customers.

“We are in France, the cheese is actually delicious. The producers of the cheese make it an experience though.” Asmodeus watched Raphael’s eyes light up. This was easy…

“Really?” She bit into a small tomato, distracted for a second (“Crunchy”), before her attention returned to him.

“Mmmhmh, you can find all manner of farms offering tours in the French countryside. You get to pet the animals, see where to cheese is stored so it ripens… you get the full experience in the department of smell… it’s worth a look. And, of course, you get to taste the cheese”

She looked like she will disappear this instance.

“Another time, I can take y-“

“Yesplease”

He had to laugh at that: “I can also give you a map with the best farms and you can go explore on your own? If you are that eager”

“Oh. No, I can’t. I’m not allowed to meet the… err… civilians without a companion. Not yet. I didn’t get the true ‘field agent’-education yet. It’s a thing. Apparently. Figured it only recently. So. Besides. It’s more fun with company,” she looks to the side, “If the company has time and feels like cheese. In this case. Of course. Or feels like anything else and wants to change the destination,” she half-shrugged.

Huh. Well. Not all demons could go to Earth either. But an archangel? Huh.

Asmodeus tilted his head: “… you’d go anywhere with me, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh, definitely. I mean… as long as it isn’t against any other rule. I don’t think it will ever be boring.”

It made his eyebrows raise. The answer left an odd feeling. And he decided not to comment. Instead: “Well, I couldn’t make myself out to be boring now, could I? But… thinking about it... You never rode a rollercoaster - you… haven’t even seen Disneyland. You weren’t in the Royal Albert Hall. You never visited Tokyo in its entirety. India in settled regions were off the table, too. What… did you do up to now… you… probably poked some of the most venomous creatures on the planet in Australia And visited some of the hottest – got you there - and coldest places… cold… Iceland… you probably never saw the penis museum either,” he snickered.

“Nope!” She finished her salad with a flourish. “But I’ve heard of it and it’s terribly amusing to me. Definitely worth a visit… but… I have to admit… the hot springs are more of a draw for me… it’s in the middle of snowy fields! It must be amazing” She laughs. “And you get to roll around in the snow to dry yourself. Afterwards off to a tiny wooden hut with a fireplace, a huge fluffy carpet to lay on and be buried in a heap of blankets, cocooning until your immune system – and, lets be honest, any blood circulation and muscles, too – boot up again .  And… well, yeah. Iceland. Probably very cool. With all the museums, too” She scratched the back of her head and looked sheepish.

Someone dreams… elaborately.

“Paris does have the Louvre on the menu of museums as well,” he pointed out, already expecting the sparkle in her eyes. ‘Mostly European history mirrored in art’, something from every century, she listed works she had to see there, mostly birds. Maybe she can look at the original flute and figure how they made it sound like an actual bird. She started to get off topic with symbolisms of birds and how they can safe most old paintings for her, since the meaning is almost always something positive… and she likes crows, thank you very much.

He could have interrupted her, but he had a salad to eat. And she was excited. About old art. When he inserted the fact that he had known some of the artists, she stopped dead in her tracks. And stared. And actually needled him about it. That the one he had picked to tell her about was Raphael might have something to do with it.

The little excursion ended with the ‘Sistine Madonna’ and the tiny angels on the bottom line. Which, the angel Raphael pointed out, were terribly cramped and unhealthy-looking, but he possibly only had dead birds to look at anyway.

It gave Asmodeus pause, just for a moment, looking out at the very much living pigeons outside, and said: “… you think they could get that cramped?”

“Err… no. No, of course not. It’s a simple misalignment, he… didn’t put much thought in the connection between bone structures and the wings, so… it looks wrong to me, but I suppose if you don’t see the natural shape of… pigeon wings every day, it’s not that strange. Thank you very much!” She nodded at the waiter, who took away the salad plate and replaced it by the various appetizers.

This certainly was one way to answer, but it wasn’t exactly what he wanted. He watched her sniff every piece of the selection and said: “… but you said cramped, so it didn’t look too unnatural? It could happen?” Wing injuries weren’t… something he ever wanted to pay much attention to.

She looked towards the ceiling, frowned and then shrugged: “Maybe. Depends on the structure of the wing. What kind of bird is sampled. Very unlikely. Haven’t seen it yet. And I’ve seen some… unpleasant misalignments of feathers. Recently, too.” She cut off a piece of the canapé, the taste test resulted in an excited squeal. “This is good!” She stabbed the second half of it and reached over the table towards Asmodeus: “Try! It’s GREAT”

His eyebrows rose and his eyes wandered from her excited face to the canapé. Standard, really. But he laughed. And leaned forward to pull the piece off with his teeth.

Raphael watched him chew with excitement. And… the verdict… was that it was a normal, if done well, canapé. He still said: “The goat cheese does compliment the fruit very well.”

It made her smile and she continued to sample, occasionally succumbing to the urge to feed him. Apparently that was a thing Raphael just… did. And he couldn’t help a smile.

“I… am glad you enjoy, but… recent feather misalignments?” It seemed… off.

She looked up with the fork still sticking out of her mouth, chewing slowly. After she swallowed, the answer was: “Well. Ahm… you… did show up at the clinic, recently. And apparently that… resulted in an uptick of customers from… your side - apparent approval from you and all – and… well… I am the only one treating wings. I can’t give anyone else the guilt of having caused a wing injury. So… I see an influx of field agents that didn’t dare ask anyone else for a long time, so… there is a bit of damage. So… for me it’s recent. For them? Months… years… who knows?” Again she shrugged. “It’s an offer open to anyone, if you want to spread the information? No one deserves damaged wings. But it’s… hard to actually ask, in some cases. The clinic is judgement-free, just know that the appointment is always at least a week later. And one can cancel or not show up to an appointment, no judgement there, either” She frowned and wrinkled her nose. “… this sounded like a sales pitch. But well, I mean it. Spread the word, maybe? Proper treatment needs a partner, and not anyone has that”

And then her attention returned to the cheese platter.

Ah. So… that’s how… that worked.

He nibbled at the piece of cheese held in front of his nose. A non-smelly piece. Mh.

[honestsycrets]

➳ Away From Home

❛ pairing | Ubbe x Reader x Torvi

❛ type | oneshot

❛ request | Sy, get this: ubbe with a plump or chubby short little wife who he spoils like crazy and adores and she keeps his home and farm and keeps his crazy little wolf pups at bay. I keep rewatching ubbe and Bjorn and Ivar and hvitty scenes from the last few episodes and had this thought (cause I’m over the war between brothers, gov my boys wives and babies and let them relax please lol) + Could you do ubbe like just super day to day tasks with domestic ubbe? Maybe one of the kids needs some extra attention or something? Love you 

“Aaluf, bring in the clothes.”

The glowing sun began to set on an otherwise dismal day. The days had been dreary and cold. The days were shorter than you would have liked for the farm. In Ubbe’s absence, you carry on your normal business taking care of the land left behind by your husband, shooing the livestock into the barn for the cold frost.

It was a hard life but it would be a good life. This was after all Ubbe’s dream. If it was his dream to do just as his father had always wanted; you would uphold that. Both a good thing and a bad thing, as after all Ubbe was constantly facing the need of King Alfred and opposition from home.

“Móðir , Sigurd is in the skyr!”

Gods help you. Even your clothes had bits of hay from feeding your milk cows.

“Mind the clothes Asa.” You set down freshly laundered clothes and go to where the stored skyr was. As predicted your little flaxen prince had fingers full of the sticky dairy. Your hands become fists on the bend of your waist.

“Sigurd.” You sweep the young boy out of the vat, setting him upon the ground. “I’ll get you sour milk instead.”

“Princess (Y/N), the cows are out! Did you not lock the barn doors?”

Your heart drops as you look out to two of your thralls. From the look on your face, the male thrall already knows that you had not. He darts down the entryway, having brought in wood for the hearth that you should have been in charge of anyway. Cows were not cheap. Not cheap at all. You could have cried but instead, you dart through that door with a word to Aaluf and Askold-- Ubbe’s nephew by Hvitserk-- to watch Sigurd.

“Shut the doors.”

“Yes, dróttinn!” Your male slave pulls the barn doors shut, drawing the wooden plank across the large ashy barn to ensure it would be shut. Turning away from the door, you spot the tight rolls of one of your love’s braids. Torvi secured the bottom latches of the door shut.  You huff, breath catching heavy on your lungs.

“Torvi.” You step slowly. Torvi turns to walk up to you, grasping your soft hands in her slender ones. She leans in and sets a soft kiss upon your lips.

“I am glad you are well.” She says. It’s as good as an “I missed you” as you would get with the shieldmaiden. You lean into her kiss, reaching around her neck with to wind your arms around her neck. It’s always something of a feat. She’s so tall-- you’re so little! She lifts you off the ground, loosely spinning you once and then twice before setting you back down. You shift your dress over your round curves again.

“And Ubbe?”

“Fetching his father’s goats.” She says. Oh, his goats.

You never would have forgiven yourself if you lost Ragnar’s sheep. Your cheeks warm, nodding in agreement to her words. Moments later your husband surfaces around the side of the barn, a lamb tucked under his arm. Your thrall jots beside him, bringing the sheep into the barn for the evening.

“I hope the children were better behaved than the sheep,” Ubbe says. You run your hands over the side of your plump figure, weaving with a small smile. Fadir is home! Modir too! The children bellow from inside. Even Asa has lit up into squeals.

“It doesn’t seem like it.” Torvi makes note of your babies squealing for their father. He walks forward and cradles your cheek in her hand, leaning down to your level in order to kiss you. You tippy toe to meet his lips, cracked with the taste of the sea. You meet his warm kisses with your own, giggling half way through when Ubbe’s hand leaves your cheek in order to squish your round ass between his fingers.

“Stop it!” You laugh, slapping his knuckles off of your ass.

“Let’s go in,” Ubbe says. “You’ve kept my children for me?”

“Of course. Our children.” You say pointedly. Your job in the home was very defined. While Torvi and Ubbe were out raiding, supporting kings, you would take care of his estate and the children upon it. Nor just yours, but Torvi’s too.

“Fadir!” The children tumble out of the door, howling like the little wolves that Ubbe was named after. You rip away from your husband, lacing your hand with his free one. Torvi takes your other, giving them that look-- the one that meant they better get their sorry asses back inside. Aaluf, your thrall comes in behind your husband, wife and you. Asa stands up with her hands heavy with plump little Sigurd.

“We’re going! We’re going!” She dips back inside, the lamb bleats under Ubbe’s arm. Sigurd’s little hands are opening and closing, delightfully excited for the lamb that he loved to pet and sleep on. It was his father’s lamb’s grandchild-- tiny and cute.

They must have been exhausted. So were you.

“Another day,” Torvi says to you, smiling.

“Another day.” You agree.

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[billnoncipher]

Wendip Week Prompt 2

Just My Luck

By William Easley

(Not part of my normal continuity and written for the Wendip Week 2018 prompt 2, "Typical Pines Luck")

Before the Mystery Twins had been in Gravity Falls for more than the first three days of June 2015, Mabel had found a new boyfriend.

"A fawn?" Dipper asked. "Seriously? You're going with a baby deer?"

"No, silly!" Mabel, who was preening at the mirror, said. "F-a-U-n! As in part hunky boy, part goat!" She narrowed her eyes and whispered confidentially, "He doesn't wear pants!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Dipper said. "T.M.I! And also, no. No, you cannot date this guy, thing, whatever it is—"

"He's a faun," Mabel insisted. "And his name is Raymond."

"I don't care if he's a—Raymond? Raymond is a faun's name?"

"Yup," Mabel said, changing her earrings. "He's got the cutest little hoofs, and a twitchy little tail, and these two little curly horns."

"Yeah," Dipper said grimly. "I've read in mythology that fauns were always horny! Look, you know this guy's just gonna dump you for another girl. Or maybe another goat. Take my advice and give Raymond a wide berth!"

"You're not gonna spoil this for me, Dipper!" she said. She'd settled on earrings in the shape of little gold pine trees. "Anyway, we're just going to frisk in the meadow for a while. You can come along if you want. Hey, you could do the—"

"Don't even say it! I am not doing the 'Lamby Lamby' dance. Especially for a guy whose mom may have been one!"

Dipper told Wendy, whose response was, "Mabes can take care of herself, Dip. Besides, I give the relationship two days, tops. Just wait until they have a meal together!"

He had to chuckle. "Yeah, heh. I guess a faun would be pretty disgusting to watch eat."

"Um, right," Wendy said. "The faun . . . ri-i-ight."

Next he told Ford, who said, "That's interesting. The fauns rarely come down from the tablelands below the western cliffs. I'll have to ask her to collect a hair sample for DNA analysis."

And the last resort was Grunkle Stan, who shrugged. "Meh, she'll find out soon enough the guy don't have any money, and that'll be the end of that."

When Dipper collapsed groaning into a chair, his Grunkle gave him a sharp look. "What's the matter, kid? Scared a goat-guy's gonna elope with your sis?"

"Noooo," Dipper moaned, drawing it out. "It's just that—we've been here practically no time, and she's got a date already! I asked Wendy if she might want to go see a movie with me, and she told me, 'Wait until you're old enough to drive, and then we'll talk.'"

"So, ask somebody else," Stan suggested. "Plenty of seafood in the ocean, kid!"

"Wouldn't do any good," Dipper said. "I have terrible luck with girls."

"Give me a fr'instance," Stan said. "Maybe I can help."

"Aw," Dipper said, "there was this girl, Francine, at one of the school dances, and she wasn't dancing with anybody, so I walked over, got my nerve up, and asked if she wanted to dance. She said yes."

"See, you were in luck!"

"No, because when we walked out onto the floor, she stepped into a little pool of spilled punch and her heel skidded and she sprained her ankle! Just my luck!"

"Don't sound like hers was any too good, either," Stan said. "Come on, Dipper, that was one time!"

"Another time," Dipper said, "Mabel talked this girl, Ellen, into being open if I asked her on a date. I asked her to a movie for that coming weekend, and she said yes."

"Luck turned around, see?"

"No, it did not," Dipper said. "Because the movie was on Saturday, and on Friday her dad moved the whole family away. Turns out he was in witness protection, and somebody in the family let their real last name slip."

Stan's eyes narrowed. "Realllllly? Uh, what was the name?"

"Farghandahler," Dipper said.

"Never heard of 'em. Well, it was worth a shot," Stan said. "Kid, it sounds to me that you need a good-luck charm."

"Oh, come on," Dipper said. "I don't believe in horseshoes and rabbits' feet and all!"

"Got a point there," Stan conceded. "Horseshoes were invented so hicks could beat city folks at a stupid tossing game. And if a rabbit's foot brought luck, you wouldn't be able to buy any, 'cause every rabbit's got four of 'em! Nah, I'm thinkin' along the lines of an amulet. They really work. Sometimes."

Dipper remembered Gideon's amulet of telekinesis, which did seem to work. "Worth a shot," he mumbled.

"Come with me."

Grunkle Stan led him to the stock room. Though Soos was Mr. Mystery these days, and Melody was engaged to become Mrs. Mystery soon, Stan still kept a close eye on what the Shack offered. He fiddled around in a box and then came up with something shiny. "Aha! Knew we had half a dozen of these. OK, kid, I'm gonna make you a gift of the world's most powerful good-luck charm. It comes all the way from Niue!"

"Where . . . is that?" Dipper asked. He'd never heard of it.

"Ah, somewheres near Metuchen, I think. Anywhoo, this here is a five-dollar silver piece. No kiddin', real silver, so take care of it! Look at it. See these little insets? This here is a genuine four-leaf clover from County Cork, Ireland, blessed by a priest who's also a part-time leprechaun! And this is a miniature horseshoe, actually manufactured from a real shoe once worn by Man O'War, the luckiest horse that ever ran in the Derby! This is, uh, a preserved ladybug. Not killed, it died of old age, ya understand. Ladybugs are notoriously lucky!"

"What?" Dipper asked.

"C'mon, Dip, ya never heard of one's house actually burnin' down! And last this is a little figure of a lucky elephant. With all them on your side, your luck will turn right around! You'll see! If it don't work, double your money back."

"How . . . much are you charging me?" Dipper asked.

"Nothin'! It's a free gift! Take it before I change my mind. I could sell this dealy to a sucker for fifty bucks!"

Oh, well. The silver disk had been pierced for a thong, and Stan threw a rawhide one in for free. "Word of caution," he said. "The gals go nuts for a guy who wears a thong! Don't get yourself in trouble, kid—or them, either."

Dipper put the rawhide cord around his neck. What the heck, it would either work or it wouldn't.

And Gideon really had almost cut out his tongue with lamb shears that one time.

Strangely, that night Dipper had a vivid dream of a tourist couple parking in the Mystery Shack lot. They had a cute daughter about fourteen and a little baby not more than a year old. The weird thing was that they pulled their Grand Rover van into a slot, the dad and mom and daughter got out, and they turned to take a photo of the Shack and the totem pole—and the van rolled away backwards, because the dad had evidently not put it in Park. The mom screamed as the van rolled over the edge of the hill and then fell and rolled over and over down to the forest edge, where it collided hard with a tree.

And the baby was inside.

The next morning, while chatting with Wendy at the sales desk, Dipper glanced out the window and saw a maroon Grand Rover van—exactly like the one he'd dreamed of—just pulling into the lot. "Be right back," he said to Wendy and dashed outside.

He felt creeps all over his skin—the van was parking in the exact spot that he'd dreamed of. He sprinted across the lawn and leaped over the low fence just as the mom, dad, and teen daughter got out and the dad hefted a camera. The van started to roll. Dipper leaped into the driver's seat—the dad hadn't closed the door—and jammed on the brakes, while pulling on the emergency brake handle. The mom screamed.

The dad came running up, white-faced. "What happened?"

Dipper said, "It's OK, sir. I saw the van start rolling. I think you didn't put it in Park."

The mom opened the rear door and took the baby—a cheerful little one-year-old boy who had no idea he'd been in any peril—out of his baby seat. "He's OK," she said. "Bless you!"

The father was reaching for his wallet. "How much can it—"

"No, sir," Dipper said. "Just—I don't know, pay it forward. Help out somebody who's in trouble. And enjoy the Mystery Shack!"

The dad got behind the wheel, started the engine, and pulled the car back into the parking slot. He very carefully put it in Park and set the emergency brake.

Someone tapped on Dipper's shoulder. "You can take this, anyway," the teen girl—braids, freckles, really cute—said. And she hugged him and kissed him on the mouth. "Thanks for saving my baby brother!"

Dipper realized he had an audience. Wendy and Stan had come out on the porch. "Uh, you're welcome," Dipper said.

The girl took his hand and wrote something on his palm. "My email," she said. "Get in touch with me. My name's Laramie."

"O-OK," Dipper said.

He walked back to the Shack, where Grunkle Stan clapped him on the shoulder. "Lucky you spotted that!" he said. "Saved us from losin' some customers!"

Wendy, settling back behind the counter, asked, "You know that girl, Dipper?"

"Uh, no," he said. "Just saw their van start to roll and she was, I guess grateful or some deal."

"You mean this isn't gonna be a regular thing?"

"Gosh, no! They're probably from Canada or someplace. I'll never see her again."

Wendy grinned. "Just teasing, man. Good going."

Later that afternoon, because he really couldn't think of an excuse, he went with Mabel to meet Raymond. Raymond waited for Mabel in the bonfire clearing. He seemed skittish when he saw she was not alone, but then she introduced Dipper as her twin. "I'm Alpha, though," she confided.

Well, Raymond wasn't quite what Dipper had expected. True, he had curly little horns and a crown of curly black hair. True, his ears were pointed, and his eyes had strangely slit-like pupils. And he definitely had hoofs and a strange ankle joint. However, the fur on his legs and waist and, um, that general area, was six inches long, very fluffy and shaggy, and he might as well have been wearing pants.

And he talked normal. No baaas or godawful puns, no "I'm Mr. Satyr day night" or anything like that. He seemed interested that Mabel had a brother. He wanted to know where they were from, what Dipper liked to do, why they had come to the Falls, did they like the forest, would he like to see some secluded beautiful areas, and so on.

Mabel looked increasingly uncomfortable and finally reminded Raymond, "You were gonna show me that beautiful forest pool with a cascading creek leading into it. Dipper doesn't have time, sorry." And she led him off.

In about an hour she was back, looking mad. "You win," she said. "I broke up with Raymond. I hope you're happy!"

"Hey, I didn't do anything!" Dipper said.

"Yes, you did! Raymond asked me if you were attached. He wants to date you! Lucky!"

"Tell him I'm not into guys or goats. And especially not into guy-goat combos!" Dipper said. He was beginning to think that luck had its downside.

But he tested it. The next day he asked Wendy if she'd like to go see that movie on Friday night. "I'm still not old enough to drive," he said. "But I don't mind being driven."

She grinned. "OK, Dip, just this movie. But it's no big deal, understand? Just two friends going to see a three-D earthquake movie!"

"I understand," he said. "Just friends."

And then the next day Candy came over to visit Mabel and wound up telling Dipper he was really growing up to be a handsome guy, and she sat uncomfortably close to him. And a little later he went outside just to get away from her and found a wallet on the ground. 

He opened it and saw a drivers' license, the picture looking familiar—oh, yeah, a guy who'd gone out on the tour with a bunch of others. And speak of the devil, Soos came driving the tram back just then, and the very guy jumped off, looking anxious, and headed for his car, which he opened and checked—

"Excuse me, sir," Dipper said. "I just found this wallet. Is it yours?"

"Yes!" the guy said, looking relieved. "I must have dropped it while going out to the tram."

Dipper handed it over. "You might want to check to make sure everything's there."

The man did. "Yep, all the cards, all the money. Here you go, son." He held out a twenty.

Dipper shook his head. "I didn't want a reward, sir. My great-uncle co-owns this place, and he'd never want to make money from someone's misfortune." That was true, sort of. Of course, Stan didn't mind a bit if he made money from them any other way.

But the guy asked his name, went inside, and evidently praised him to Soos and Wendy, because they both gave him thumbs-up when he came back in. And Candy hugged him. "My Dipper is an honest and truthful man!" she announced.

Wendy raised an eyebrow at "my Dipper."

Still later, downtown at a convenience store, Dipper fed a dollar into a vending machine and bought the first and only scratch-off lottery ticket in his life so far. Back in the Shack, he scratched it off.

Yeah, it figured. He'd won $1,000.00. There was, of course, a catch. He gave the card to Stan. "I can't use it," he told his Grunkle. "You have to be eighteen or over."

"I'm eighteen or over," Stan pointed out. "I'll do somethin' nice for ya, kid." And he did. He went into town to cash in the ticket and brought Dipper back a candy bar.

That night, Dipper complained to Mabel about the amulet. "It's making me lucky," he said, "but not in any way that helps me out. And it's got you mad at me."

"I'm not mad," Mabel said. "Just disappointed that Raymond prefers you to me. That's not your fault. My irresistibility must've rubbed off on you a little." She picked up the candy bar. "You gonna eat this?"

"Don't like coconut. You can have it."

"Thanks, Brobro!"

Mabel bit into the candy bar and chipped a tooth. Fragment of coconut husk. Stan had to rush her to a dentist he knew who owed him a favor. She came back with a repaired tooth and a rueful, "You're lucky you didn't want the candy, Dipper!"

But the amulet didn't work with Wendy. The next morning, she said, "I gotta break our date, Dip. Sorry, man. My dad wants me to go with him and my brothers to visit my aunt this evening."

And without Wendy—meh. The kind of luck he was having just wasn't worth it. After some soul-searching, Dipper walked out to the Bottomless Pit and walked back a little lighter and amulet-free.

Just before quitting time, Wendy apologized again—but then the phone rang, and she answered it. "What? Oh, OK. No, tomorrow's even better. Sure. OK if I see a movie, then? Thanks, Dad!"

She hung up the phone. "Huh. My aunt called Dad and asked him to put off the visit, so our date's back on, unless you got someone else to see it with."

"No!" Dipper said. "Uh, no. No, I don't. Uh. If you want to go."

"Yeah, I guess so," Wendy said. "Guess you're in luck, Dipper."

Yeah, for a change, he guessed he really was in the best kind of luck. Seeing a three-D movie about an earthquake sitting next to a gorgeous redhead who made a practice of not dating anybody under the age of sixteen? But she would make one exception?

Hmm, maybe he shouldn't have tossed that amulet away so quickly . . . .

Nah. Typical Pines luck was better than anything it could dish up!

The End

[notesfromthefielddesk]

Episode 2 - E.E. Evans Pritchard

Episode link - https://open.spotify.com/episode/0LqJQ1q2kv5utkoct7V8Cg?si=485ef5c24837440e

John

I’m looking out over the plains of what was once Nuerland. The heavy clay earth is broken apart by the relentless sun. Deep cracks and the threaded depressions of rivers which rarely fill, even in the rainy season, are the only features on the dead flat, almost alien landscape. Around me cattle rest on the slightly (We hear gentle mooing) elevated sandy spot I found for my desk. From here I can see clear to the horizon where I spot sporadic patches of trees but all other greenery has browned and died back months ago. What these cows are living off is beyond me.

In years past the sodden clay retained water allowing certain plants to survive through the dry months. When the rain came this whole plain would be covered in grass reaching over my head as I sit behind my desk. Near the rivers edge they’d reach up to my shoulders even when standing. The rivers would fill then overflow making the whole plain a marshy swamp. At times like those this sandy mound would be prime real-estate and i’d be sharing space with far more cows.

Nowadays, this is South Sudan. The rainy season has become more sporadic and unpredictable. Often the relief of rains arrival is followed - shortly - by overwhelming flooding. Right now people are still waiting on that rain.

(we hear the wind starting to pick up)

The wind is picking up. A cloud of dust is rising on the plain. The horizon, with it’s sporadic trees and the cracked earth disappear from view behind a wall of air thick with clay. I can see about two cows away. Out of the dust emerges a figure. They’re walking towards me.

This is notes from the field desk.

Theme

oh! you. Look after what you told me in Papua new guinea I don’t think we should be talking. What are you doing here anyway? -

what do you mean am I following you? I am here by chance. My flight back to London from Brisbane got diverted because of technical fault with the plane and we landed in Juba. So there is no way I could have followed you here. If anything you’re probably followed me!

(sigh) Fine, I suppose there is no harm in you sitting here. There’s a tree stump just there you can listen to me record if you want. That is if you’re not busy organising a coup or whatever.

Anyway, when we got grounded in Juba I had a look through my collection. Oh, I should explain, I travel with a trunk of the one hundred most influential ethnographies, that’s what we call the books anthropologists write.

Side note, I never thought the trunk would be a problem, in all these Ethnographies they talk about getting porters to carry all their stuff, but when I asked at the airport for a porter, they just laughed at me?

Anyway, we were grounded a while before they cancelled the flight. So I had a look and it turns out another anthropological founding father did research in South Sudan. E.E.Evans-Pritchard. Or as I call him EEEE Pritchard. Okay well look, I don’t even want you to find my jokes funny so you just sit there rolling your eyes all you want.

Evans-Pritchard was a student of Malinowski at LSE and in the late 1920’s he set out for what was then Anglo-Egyptian Sudan. He wrote a couple of Ethnographies about the Azande which mostly focused on magic, kind of an obsession with early anthropologists. Then he headed south in 1930 to do research on the Nuer, which focused mostly on politics. A good hard subject we can get our teeth into! Anglo-Egyptian Sudan came Sudan in 1956, then split into the mostly Muslim North and mostly Christian South in 2011. Then in 2021 I arrived to do some peer-reviewing. I’m hoping Evan’s Pritchard is a bit less of a controversial figure so my students will get off my back.

(phone rings) ignore that, i’m ignoring, that’s nothing.

(Clearly still flustered) Okay, last time, we talked about the two sides of anthropology, the field and the desk. If Malinowski represents the innovation of field, you know participating in society, going native, spending years in the field. Then Evans-Pritchard is the OG anthropologist who developed the desk. Anthropology trades on being able to create a sense of being there through vivd description, where Malinowski could be a bit stiff and scientific Evans-Pritchard had a bit of flare with his flowing prose.

Is that cow looking at me? That one there with huge horns. I swear to god it’s looking at me.

Anyway, EP, I like calling him EP when I do he feels like a friend. (clear throat) He made drawings, he took tonnes of pictures, he described the plains, some of his diary crept into the ethnography. No racism as far as I could tell but He talks about being frustrated, he shows his work. A move towards modern anthropology. So reading his The Nuer, which is the ethnography he wrote about this region, is really like the experience of being here. Way less of a slog than boring old Malinowski.

(Email Chime)

Ohh an email, do you mind if I just check this? I just got assigned a student whose thesis i’m supervising. Very exciting. Shaping the next generation of anthropologists and all that.

okay, here we go.

“Dear Professor Johnson”

Not a professor but i’m quite pleased with that.

“I discussed briefly with Susan, uh-huh, during the introduction lecture that I’d be interested in researching the club scene, queer identity and youth in London. I’ve been reading tony Adams and Stacy Holman Jones on Auto-ethnography and that’s inspired me to try it myself. If you could point me in the direction of some readings to get myself started with.

All the best,”

I’ll leave their name out of it, bit of privacy. Hmm well i’m not sure about that. I mean really ethnography should be done in a rural place, not the city, should they even be doing research in the UK? This is anthropology not sociology. Plus auto-ethnography? I’ve never heard of it but we’re supposed to be studying the other not ourselves, this isn’t psychology. Hmm well I need to think about a reply, don’t want to stamp on the young fellows aspirations but he needs setting straight.

What is that cow doing. Is it - it’s coming over here isn’t it. Shoo, shoo! it’s licking me. Do something don’t just laugh. No do not nibble my suit! Argh. This suit cost a lot of money cow! Get off me. Shoo. Fine, i’m getting up. it’s your desk now!

Go on get out of here!

You know what happens now because you wouldn’t help me? We’re going to talk about theory. Yes groan away, there isn’t even a sea for you to paddle in this time so I guess you’ll just have to sit down there with the cows and listen.

This book actually is mostly about cows. All three hundred pages of it, I don’t think there is a single sentence that doesn’t mention cows or cattle or I don’t know bovine. I mean I like cows as much as the next englishman but it’s not exactly thrilling. But in fairness to Evans-Pritchard the Nuer didn’t exactly give him a choice. He said that

“whatever subject I would start on, and approaching it from whatever angle, we would soon be speaking of cows and oxen, heifers and steers, rams and sheep, hegoats and she-goats, calves and lambs and kids.”

Basically the Nuer loved cows. He said this fact was the underlying structure of Nuer society. So everything in Nuer society comes back to cows. Love, war, religion, politics, it was all about cows.

Our boy EP is a structural functionalist, - look the terms are important so just get used to it - meaning he thought there are underlying structures to all societies, that cause us to behave in a certain ways. Where Malinowski and functionalism thought post hoc ergo propter hoc - I can see you rolling your eyes, sometimes latin is useful! (deep sigh) Fine, i’ll explain it another way.

Malinowski would say the Nuer like cows because they give them milk - our boy EP would say okay but why love cows instead of say… soy beans which can also give you milk. It’s because the conditions the land in which the Nuer live aren’t good for growing soy beans, but they are good for raising cattle.

What would be a good comparison. Okay, Malinowski would say you like your iPhone because it gives you messages from friends. Those messages make you feel nice, so it fills a need. And EP might say, yes that’s true but it’s also possible that you like the phone because the underlying structure of Western society values objects especially expensive ones. Or else you’d have a nokia 3310. It still fills the same function but EP aims to explain why people choose one thing over another. If you’re a quote fan here is how Evans-Pritchard put it.

“Although the Nuer have a mixed pastoral-horticultural economy their country is more suitable for cattle husbandry than for horticulture, so that the environmental bias coincides with the bias of their interest and does not encourage a change in the balance in favour of horticulture.”

Oh there is a guy over there! (Shouting) Hey! Hey sir! Sir! Who do these cows belong to? Sir? (Biggish pause) (Snort in distance) He’s gone. Well I didn’t have time to chat anyway, i’ve got a tutorial. Just keep that cow away from me while I’m teaching. I doubt you care but here’s a Nuer song that Evans Pritchard translated.

Extract

The wind blows wira wira;

Where does it blow to?

It blows to the river. The shorthorn carries its full udder to the pastures;'

Let her be milked by Nyagaak;

My belly will be filled with milk. Thou pride of Nyawal,

Ever-quarrelling Rolnyang.

This country is overrun by strangers;

They throw our ornaments into the river;

They draw their water from the bank.

Blackhair my sister,

I am bewildered.

Blackhair my sister,

I am bewildered.

We are perplexed;

We gaze at the stars of God.

White ox good is my mother

And we the people of my sister. The people of Nyariau Bui.

As my black-rumped white ox. When I went to court the winsome lassie,

I am not a man whom girls refuse. We court girls by stealth in the night,

I and Kwejok Nyadeang.

We brought the ox across the river,

I and Kirj oak

And the son of my mother's sister Buth Gutjaak.

Friend, great ox of the spreading horns,

Which ever bellows amid the herd. Ox of the son.

Return from tutorial

You let the cows eat my notes!? I thought I said watch the cows! What happened? Was it that same cow again? What do you mean they all look the same, the one with the evil eyes!

Okay, so it seems like I missed some things again. The students pointed out that on page one of the preface, I might have skipped the preface, says “My study of the Nuer was undertaken at the request of, and was mainly financed by, the Government of the Anglo-Egyptian Sudan.” Which means the colonial government most likely paid for him to do the research because they wanted to control the Nuer. He describes them as violent willing to go to war over cattle at the drop of a hat. In text he says;

“At the present time cattle are the main cause of hostility

towards, and suspicion of, the Government, not so much on

account of present taxation as of earlier tax-gathering patrols

which were little more than cattle raids and of the avowedly

plundering expeditions of the Egyptian Government era that

preceded them.”

The students pointed out that given theat the government violently took their property, it was kind of understandable that the Nuer were angry. Again, if he was there trying to collect information so the colonial officers could control them, can we trust his findings?

During the second world war he used his ethnographic relationships to recruit Sudanese troops who he then led in Guerrilla warfare against the Italians. I said that sounds pretty cool right? Which made them angry, academic knowledge shouldn’t be used as a weapon to manipulate people into fighting in a war, which, regardless of the outcome would leave them colonised. They asked why we were spending so much time focussing on old men.

(Phone rings) Ignore that!

Pause takes a breath

I said fine, but we have to cover foundational figures who would they rather cover? What about Boas? He thought races were biological different and with some inferior to others. Ruth Benedict? They say she wrote a book for the US army in the Second World War about how to defeat the Japanese based on their culture without ever setting foot in Japan. Fine, Margret Mead? Exoticised the sex lives of Samoans and thought they were primitive.

I’m taking off this jacket it’s so hot and it’s got cow slobber all over the shoulder.

Well if all of them were racist then let’s just pack the whole thing in! They said I wasn’t understanding. I was thinking about racism as an individual failing caused by ignorance. But they weren’t ignorant, their racism was a product of society. In that way Evans-Pritchard was right. They lived during colonialism and the rise of the nation state. Which meant Nations had to justify their difference from others and their superiority over others.

People had to have a reason to believe in “Being British” rather than French or Sudanese. Or why would you think it was okay to rule them? Or to enforce boarders?  These ideas of superiority and difference permeated the early anthropologists the same way the utility of cow herding led to the Nuer loving cattle. So everyone from that era was bound to be Colonialist.

They also said It doesn’t help that doing fieldwork confirms the differences between people. My head felt like it was going to explode. Still trying to figure it all out and it doesn’t help that that cow is still looking at me. I asked where they were getting all this from? Lentin and Visweswaren they said, apparently it’s on the reading list… I haven’t read the reading list.

(Phone rings once but he immediately hangs it up)

So, they said maybe next we could talk about Talal Asad. Apparently he is an anti-colonial ethnographer or something. I said fine whatever. They seem to know more than me anyway. Maybe we shouldn’t do fieldwork, maybe we should all do auto-ethnography. My students said maybe, but we still need to pay attention because racism hasn’t gone away, it’s still in our society. Which means we still might make arguments for it in our work unless we’re careful.

I guess before I do field work I should look at what the underlying structures of Britain are effecting my thinking. Not just my assumptions like I thought with Malinowski but what it means for a British person to turn up at a former colony. What does that act mean even before I start interacting with people.

I know that sounds like the same conclusion as episode one but my students assure me it’s subtly different. My head hurts, let’s go.

Nah leave the desk I’ll just get another.

Theme

This was notes from the field desk written by me James McGrail.  

This episode references

Evans-Pritchard, E.E., The Nuer, 1940, Clarendon Press, Oxford.

Lentin, A. (2004). Racial states, anti-racist responses. Picking holes in 'Culture' and 'Human Rights'. European Journal of Social Theory 7(4): 427-443.

Pocock, D. (1975). Sir Edward Evans-Pritchard 1902–1973: An appreciation. Africa, 45(3)

Visweswaran, Kamala (1998) Race and the Culture of Anthropology, American Anthropologist 100/1: 70-83.

Theme ends

Susan

Do you think I’m stupid? You think I believe your flight got diverted to South Sudan? South Sudan? Oh and it just so happens that it’s thematically appropriate for your little podcast? Get back to London. Now. We need to have a serious conversation.

https://freesound.org/people/Mystikuum/sounds/401636/

https://freesound.org/people/JarredGibb/sounds/233143/

https://freesound.org/people/selcukartut/sounds/504882/

https://freesound.org/people/felix.blume/sounds/187756/

https://freesound.org/people/darrinsmith/sounds/274434/

https://freesound.org/people/InspectorJ/sounds/405561/

https://freesound.org/people/t-man95/sounds/553265/

[ghostiguro]

shamwow ref sheet, finally!!!!! :D

figuring out how to draw them was tough, still ironing out their design a bit, but overall i'm happy with how it looks. :3

you know what time it is-- ramble that no one asked for, aw yeahhh.

firstly, when designing them i for sure knew i wanted their design to be fuzzy & inspired by a tarantula; i know they're supposed to be a jumping spider but.. don't care, fuzzy spider supremacy. also tarantulas have weirdly adorable paws?? i love it.

their eye colour is supposed to be somewhere between red & violet; they look a bit more pink than i intended, so i'll probably adjust that as time goes by.

final thing i wanna add about their design specifically; because they are the eldest sibling, & it's insinuated that they absolutely merced all the other gods, i wanted their design to stand out more & be a little more fancy to show their status. i want to eventually add more details cuz i feel like i could make it look way cooler, but this is good for now. :3

it's made clear in the game that the bishops relied on the crowns to work around their disabilities, so when shamura is indoctrinated into the cult, they struggle a LOT with their head injury. their symptoms including, but not limited to; memory loss, poor facial recognition, visual trouble, brain fog, migraines, loss of fine motor skills, lack of balance & coordination, vertigo, struggles with vocabulary (stutters, can't find words, or sometimes makes up their own words), they often repeat things that don't really have much meaning, hand tremors, hallucinations, etc. they start out really bad, & their injury would be far worse if it weren't for the fact that they're a god & the crown prevented the injury from being as bad as it could have been. their siblings are all very patient with them, & the lamb assigns them a buddy as they begin to recover & are able to move around the cult grounds more. they eventually get to a point where they're able to function, still with moderate memory loss & brain fog, as well as migraines & hand tremors, but it takes them a *long* time to get to that point.

in their free time, they used to enjoy sewing & reading, but due to their injury, they struggle a lot with it which frustrates them to no end. they later get glasses to help with their vision so they can read, & learn how to knit & crochet, as sewing is a bit hard when your hands are constantly shaking & you're holding a tiny needle & thread.

later on in their recovery, they start helping out around the cult, doing a little bit of everything; they help the lamb with everyday duties when they can, usually small errands like delivering & retrieving items (they write them a little note in case they get lost along the way; shamura holds onto many of these notes, & have a basket in their room filled with notes they've collected over time); they help leshy in the farm/garden, heket in the kitchen when she's chefing it up, & kallamar in the healing bay, & occasionally keeps him company while he paints or crafts things. eventually, shamura & narinder are able to repair their relationship-- i haven't figured out what exactly narinder's tasks & hobbies are yet but they would keep him company & help when they can, too.

ok this is getting long so i'm gonna leave it here for now. :3

now i just have to finish the lamb & goat, & then all the rest of the characters & cult members... hoo boy.

[lagrin9a]

Draugr 02 - The High Prophet

   Well, what do you know? There was a road all the way out here, which gave Llew two more obstacles to deal with. For one, he had to find a new spot to relax in. And two, who were these people?    At a safe distance, tucked within the brush and foliage, Llew found a procession of dark-robed individuals. Healers, he assumed upon first glance, but upon further inspection, he not only realized the cut of their garments were different, but he found that their robes were far too dark to be that of Healers. Raelah often described their robes as a light purple, which appeared as a light shade to him. Llew scanned each and every member, bowing their heads beneath their hoods and uttering a song-like chant in unison. Then he reached something that made him freeze, as though he were locking eyes with a viper. The figure at the head of the procession darkened the space around him, carrying a hefty scent of decay that Llew could feel from his hiding spot. He dawned robes that appeared more ornate than the others, complete with trimming, a light stole around his shoulders, and a silver pendant. The figure bore a staff adorned with feral gwythaint feathers and topped with a lamb skull, which seemed to drain all energy around it. Llew felt the organ in his chest tremble as he focused on the leader who guided the head of the train. Every fiber of his muscle and bone begged him to run in the opposite direction, but his intrigue bade him to stay put.    One by one, the procession disappeared down the path as it winded between the trees. When the last one vanished out of sight, Llew breathed again. He slumped down and praised the gods he hadn’t been seen. When he was confident that he was alone again, Llew approached the small path. It was far too narrow and overgrown for anyone to use regularly. Perhaps this procession was a fluke. He sighed in relief, knowing that his chances of ever been seen via this road were low.    Llew was ready to return to his favorite river spot, but hesitated. He peered down the road with numerous questions invading his mind. Who were they? Why were they traveling down this road and not the main one? How come he had never seen men like them before? And what was the story with their leader?    The logical part of Llew’s mind nagged him, Don’t! You remember what happened yesterday. If you really care about Raelah and Ronan, you’ll return to the river, and come home before dusk like you promised.    Llew turned his head in the directed of his place of comfort. He could just go about his day, never mention it to Raelah or Ronan, and all would be fine in the world. But he looked down the path that these strange men disappeared through. He had to know. With the organ in his chest fluttering, begging him to return to his place of safety, he disobeyed and proceeded down the path.

   The village was robust as usual, which meant Llew had go about this carefully. Llew stuck close to the boulders and sparse trees after breaking the safety of the tree line. He steered clear of the main road that led into town, seeing as it was the most populated spot outside the main gate. Llew waited behind a ledge as the guard who swept the parameters made his rounds. He dashed for the fence once the coast was clear and slipped through his usual gap between the posts. Upon finding himself within the back alleyways of the village he praised himself for his stealth. Now to avoid getting caught during his investigation.    Over the years of sneaking in and out of the village, Llew had become skilled at climbing, jumping, and lurking in the shadows. He knew most blind spots of the town like the back of his hand, and the roof top of the cobbler’s shop was his best shot. After crawling over some crates to reach the roof’s ledge, he edged up to the peak which gave him the perfect view of the trade square. The dark-robed figures dotted the square and all corners of the village, causing the greatest commotion he had seen in years.    In the center of the square, perched atop a crate, one of the robed figures boomed, “The gods you praise are false! They want to lead you to a life of sin and damnation, so that their true master, the Seven Eyed Goat can devour you in Hell! Turn now from your sins, and embrace the All Mighty Savior! He is the one true way to Eternal Life. And the time is neigh! Repent for your sins, your wrong doings and embrace the love of the Savior!”    The people gathered at his feet shook their heads in disapproval. But one protested, “If all gods are false, then why are you acknowledging the Seven Eyed Goat?”    Another added. “The Seven Eyed Goat doesn’t want to eat people. Just because he’s prone to madness doesn’t make him evil.”    The preacher interrupted, “The servants of the Seven Eyed Goat deny and hate the Truth!”    This proceeded to riel them up into a screaming match.    The other members of this strange group split up into pairs, and appeared to converse with villagers who clearly didn’t want to listen. Llew could see the blacksmith getting increasingly annoyed at a man who refused to leave him alone, and continued to talk his ear off. Another dark-robed man scolded and yelled obscenities to a group of women, accusing of them of being temptresses. And to Llew’s surprise, some villagers actually sat down and listened to the words spilling from the mouths of these men.    Llew had seen enough. He slid off the roof top, navigating his feet onto the crate tops as to avoid crashing and drawing attention. As he did, he heard voices bickering nearby. Llew took extra care to be quiet, but the men’s conversation picked up his ears.    “Why must we waste our time with this? Can’t we just promise them riches, and then have them mindlessly join us?”    “No. Those who love this world and all it has to offer, will be damned with this world when judgement day comes. Life eternal and fear of the Savior is what will save his children. Besides, Magg, if you hate serving so much, you can wait outside the village and wash our feet later.”    Llew froze… Did that man just refer to the other one as Magg?... Well, who knows. There could be a dozen Maggs in Prydain. It couldn’t possibly be that Magg.    “Absolutely not! If I have to look at one more pair of dirty feet, I’ll kill myself! I wasn’t made to wander dirt roads or live in this squalor. I just want eternal life!”    “That’s the price you have to pay for eternal life… Or you could just return to Mona, face judgement from House Llyr, but then you will face judgement from the Savior as well.”    Mona? House Llyr? Maybe it was that Magg.    Llew dared to peak around the corner to satisfy his curiosity. Two men barred the shade of the alleyway from the light of the square. A tall bald man, built of pure muscle towered over a scrawny, lean one, with dark disheveled hair that tried desperately to appear groomed. As the tall man shifted slightly, Llew stole a better look at the smaller one’s face. The haughty, arrogant features that would have once been prided as beauty, were disrupted by four jagged gashes over his right eye and cheek.    And the cat chased Magg, and to this day, no one knows where he went, Raelah’s words echoed in Llew’s head.    Llew’s mouth dropped at what he saw. This was the Magg. The Magg from Raelah’s story. And with these hateful men. He needed to tell somebody. He needed to warn somebody. A wanted criminal was hiding in their midst… But he couldn’t. If Llew went ahead and reported this criminal, everyone would be more concerned about the monster terrorizing their village than this wanted man. Llew was at a loss. What could he do? He couldn’t just let this monster in human skin roam free. Raelah. He could return home and tell Raelah. She’d be a little miffed about his escapade into town. But he could tell her. She could go into town, and report Magg! Yes! That would work!    But in the split second of Llew’s scheming, the scarred criminal who faced in his direction made eye contact with him. Llew froze in place. The man’s lips twisted into a cruel grin.    “What’ve we here? A little rat in the alley?”    The big man rotated once Magg acknowledged their unwelcomed guest and glowered at Llew. Everything in Llew’s being told him to run, but he couldn’t budge. Before he knew it, the man shadowed him, staring him down with conviction. At the last minute, Llew’s muscles finally obeyed, but it was too late. The man’s grip seized Llew by the back of the neck and hoisted him off his feet. Llew wriggled and squirmed, which resulted in the man tightening his grasp, causing a jolt of shock to course through him.    “Now, now. Don’t go running off on us just yet,” Magg taunted as he neared the struggling creature. When they were face to face, Magg winced in disgust. “My, you’re an ugly one. No wonder you hide in the shadows. And yet, something is so familiar about you.”    Like a spider creeping to a fly caught in its nest, his hand delicately reached up and traced Llew’s horns. “Hm. What magnificent antlers. They’re almost regal… like a king’s,” Magg snidely remarked. “I wonder, would others find them as regal and magnificent as I do? Or will they run in terror at the abomination holding them.”    Magg’s hand trailed from Llew’s horns to his mouth, where he proceeded to clamp his hand on either side of his upper jaw, peeling back the lips on the left side of his face and pinching the fangs. Magg licked his lips as an idea pleasured him. “It would be a shame if I screamed, and all those people would flock to the shadows here. Then, what would happen to you? I do wonder.”    “Magg, that’s enough,” a bold voiced commanded from the entrance to the alleyway.    Magg peeled around to face the figure, and shrunk. “Oh, um, Grimgower. I was just… uh… teaching this young man a lesson. Didn’t want people to know a certain somebody turned over a new leaf, and was trying to start a new life.”    It was their leader. The strange figure from the head of the procession. If seeing the man on the path from a distance was like locking eyes with a viper, seeing him eye to eye was like confronting a bear. Llew could only tremble in the strong man’s grasp.    “Huel. You can drop him,” the man named Grimgower commanded.    “Yes, High Prophet,” the strong man corresponded, bowing his head.    Llew landed on the pavement with a thud. As he rubbed the back of his neck which bruised, Grimgower approached him. Llew tried to scramble to his feet as fear overtook him.    “Wait! It’s alright. I don’t wish to harm you,” Grimgower knelt to his level and placed a gentle hand on Llew’s arm as he recoiled. Upon contact, Llew felt a sudden sense of calm, as though he were seated next to the fireplace in the midst of a rainy afternoon. Or as though he were bundled in layers of blankets while a great blizzard raged outside. Llew eased, and made eye contact with the man before him. The left half of the man’s face was bandaged, but the other half was young, sophisticated, and full of deep understanding. “I just wish to talk.”    After Llew eased, the High Prophet helped him to his feet.    “I apologize for my disciples’ rather hostile treatment towards you. While they have repented and made strides to turn from their sinful ways, their former selves strive to reclaim them, and they slip back into sin, as do most of us.”    “Hey! I –,”    “Shhh,” Huel interrupted Magg, retaining his stony composure. Grimgower glanced back over his shoulder with a disapproving frown, before returning his attention to Llew and continued. “I should introduce myself. I am Grimgower, the High Prophet of the Savior and founder of the Cult of the Resurrection. Now, are you the young man who spotted us on our way over here?”    Llew jolted. How did he know? He didn’t think anyone had spotted him. But judging by the questioning looks on Huel and Magg’s faces, only their leader was aware of Llew’s presence.    Llew reluctantly nodded. “Yes.”    “Tell me, young man, what is your name?”    “Llew.”    “Ah. So it’s Llew. I can see you are teeming with questions, which is probably why you followed us here. Am I correct?’    “Yes.”    Grimgower gave a warm smile. “Fear not. I hope to answer all of your questions. But something tells me you’re not supposed to be here, and you don’t want other villagers to see you. May I suggest a more private place?”    Llew met the man’s gaze and smiled.

   After the four men snuck out of the village, the High Prophet led them to the edge of the forest, where they had established a small encampment. There, more disciples gathered, lost in the pages of hefty tomes, and deep in prayer with amulets clutched between their palms. Upon entering, Llew drew the attention of the disciples, many of which gave him cold, unwelcoming stares. Llew shrunk back, staying in close proximity of Grimgower.    “Don’t mind them. Many of them still cling to fear like your fellow townsmen. But their enlightenment has taught them not to pass judgement, for only the Savior can do that,” Grimgower explained, offering a sliver of confidence to the timid young man.    At the edge of the camp, Grimgower and Llew situated themselves around a small fire with a tea kettle perched on top. The High Prophet ordered the giant and spidery man to fetch them some cups and biscuits, leaving the pair alone.    “Tell me, who is this Llew?” Grimgower inquired.    Llew gave a puzzled look, before realizing what he was asking.    “Well, I live on a farm. We farm potatoes, and my friend usually takes them into town every weekend. I live with the farmer and his daughter, and we all help each other on the farm.”    “Any relation?” Grimgower raised a brow.    Llew shook his head. “My mother left me as soon as I was born. She worked as a farm hand to Ronan… the farmer, to repay him for taking her in when she was injured. In the middle of the night, she just left with no explanation. She just left me and took the only horse the farmer had.”    “I see,” Grimgower nodded. “And the father?”    Llew shrugged. “Never knew him. Ronan hasn’t told me this directly, but he theorizes my mother made love to a demon, and practiced witchcraft.” To this, Grimgower chuckled.    Llew tilted his head. “What’s so funny?”    “There’s no such thing as witchcraft. Believe me. I would know as a former warlock,” Grimgower smiled.    “Well fine then,” Llew crossed his arms, and raised a brow. “Now it’s my turn to ask. Who is Grimgower?”    Grimgower halted, and his smile fell. “You wish to know?”    Llew nodded with conviction.    A smirk peeled onto Grimgower’s lips. “Grimgower was once the name of a powerful warlock. The High Warlock of Demonology, to be exact.” Llew tilted his head.    “You probably are unfamiliar with the Magical Orders of Prydain, not that it would concern a farmer. But in short, I was a man who delved neck deep into what commoners call witchcraft.”    Llew sat up, retaining a gasp as to not appear rude.    “It was my dabbling in this art that was my undoing. A potential bride once remarked that the demons I had enslaved appeared starved and lonely. Instead of receiving it as a useful warning, I took that remark as an insult… I should have listened to her warning. The next time I summoned them attacked me, feeling betrayed at their maltreatment by my hands, and that was the end of Grimgower.”    He made full eye contact with Llew. “There was nothing, just an endless void… But from that void came a voice… ‘Grimgower, I am not finished with you. I have chosen you to do my will and bring me glory. Serve me, and not even the chains of death can hold you’. I accepted this being’s offer. And when I awoke, I was a new man. No longer was I Grimgower the High Warlock of Demonology. From that day forth, I would be Grimgower, the High Prophet of the Savior… And that’s why I’ve allowed men like our dear, Magg here, to join our discipleship,” Grimgower grinned, gesturing towards Magg, as he handed him his cup.    “… Uh. Why yes! I’m a new man! Better than ever!” the man snapped. “A completely different man. Absolutely… No need for suspicion. None at all!” Llew caught Huel scowling and rolling his eyes at his fellow disciple.    “And what about you?” Llew questioned the giant man.    “Isn’t it obvious? I smashed skulls in. It’s the way of the Northmen,” Huel grumbled out.    “Yes. Many of these men have sinned greatly, and thus have been rejected by the world. However, the Savior and I have offered these men a home, a chance to become anew. And it is this reason that they share the gospel. Have you heard the gospel, Llew?”    Llew’s brow furrowed. “I may have caught a glimpse of it back in town, but other than that, no.”    Grimgower smiled. “I will tell it to you, then. But first, I must ask you, where do you will go when you die?”    Llew pondered for a bit. “Ronan say that when you’re dead, you’re dead. But Raelah says that when you die, you go to the Summer Isles if you’ve served the gods well… But you don’t believe in the gods, do you?”    Grimgower frowned. “The Gods of the Great Pantheon are false, and instead want to lead you astray. There is only one true God who is perfect and created everything in our existence. He even took special time and effort into creating you.”    Llew recoiled at this.    “What’s wrong? You suddenly seem deeply offended by what I just said.”    “Yes. I am,” Llew’s fisted clenched.    “Care to explain why?”    “If he took special time and effort into creating me, then why do I look like this,” Llew snapped, gesturing at his features. “Why do I have to keep myself hidden from the world, so that people don’t come after me and my family? Why does a little girl scream in terror upon seeing me in the alleys? Why do I look like a monster?”    “You aren’t a monster, Llew,” Grimgower answered. “The false gods they worship have lied to them, ordering them to shun you or anyone who comes from God. Your case is quite similar to that of the Savior, and many of his chosen.”    Llew picked up his head.    The High Prophet continued. “As I had said, we believe in a God who is perfect and has everything planned. But the false god, the Seven Eyed Goat, hated our God, and wanted to overthrow Him. So he, and his servants, the other false gods, made us imperfect through sin. Sin is anything that displeases God. And anything short of perfection is punishable by death. However, the God sent a Savior, who would not only save us of our sin, but bring us to Eternal Life. But, the false gods hated and feared the Savior, so they imprisoned him, where he has suffered for our sins ever since. But, Llew, this is where you come in, and why you are so special.”    Llew perked up in question, which bade the High Prophet to continue.    “The people of this world reject you, because God has chosen you specifically, just as He has chosen me and His disciples here. You see, it was written that the Savior would return one day, and break from His prison. But it would be by the help of one who is rejected by the world. One who the false gods hate and have his own people shun. One whose design mocks the Seven Eyed Goat. And you, Llew, I believe are that Chosen One.”    Llew leaned back. “Wait. You’re saying I’m some Chosen One who can bring back this Savior, and I’m like this because this God you’re talking about designed me specifically this way?”    “Exactly,” Grimgower nodded.    “And that’s why you brought me all the way out here? So you can tell me this?”    Grimgower nodded again.    “Little do you know, we have been searching for you this entire time. And Llew, my dear boy, I believe this meeting was no accident.”    Llew stood up and paced around. “T-that can’t be. I’m just a deformed guy who farms potatoes. I hide because my mother performed witchcraft.”    “You hide because the false gods have convinced your loved ones that you are a monster.”    Llew shook his head. That’s not true. It couldn’t be. Raelah didn’t see him as a monster. Ronan didn’t either, and kept him in hiding so that no one would hurt him… Unless Ronan did see him as a monster, and just didn’t want to tell him directly. Maybe that’s why he wanted so much control over him. Because in reality, he was special. Perhaps that’s why he never wanted him to be seen… and to be home before dusk…    It’s dusk!!!!    Llew bolted up. “Oh no! I have to go right now. Ronan’s going to be furious.”    “Wait, Llew,” Grimgower called out.    “I’m very sorry, High Prophet. Thank you for the tea, and sharing your gospel, but I really have to get going,” Llew scrambled.    “Llew, please think over what I told you. If you decide that perhaps you are the Chosen One, please meet us in our place of worship, tonight. It’s just down the path where you first found us.”    “Right. I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you again.”    Llew rushed away from the encampment, and back into the forest.

[askdawnandvern]

A Lamb Among Wolves Ch:20

This is quite possibly the longest chapter I've written not just in this story, but in general. But it was required for the full scope of the scene. There was nowhere I could clip and separate it that wouldn't ruin the flow of the scene. I was also nervous handling so many characters interacting at once. I wanted it to remain clear who was talking to whom and it was a delicate dance I hope worked correctly. That said, I feel this was a really strong, emotional chapter and I'm super proud of it.

Shout out to my patreon backers whose input helped shape and correct this chapter. They get access to the story chapters early as a perk and the fact that the take the time to note errors and so on is super helpful and greatly appreciate. Thanks to Warwolf416 and Unformed8 for their contributions, you guys are great. And if you guys are interested in sneak peeks and other stuff behind the scenes of my art and fiction, well I've got a Patreon. So please consider donating. Every little bit helps keep me fed and living, and that means it's easier to write and draw.

https://www.patreon.com/wastedtimeee

Alright, that's enough shilling for myself. Go ahead and read.

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Chapter Twenty: Un-fair Judgements

For Dawn's sake, Vernon was trying not to let what happened at the 'tunnel of love' eat away at him. But the wolf couldn't shake the sickening feeling the whole argument had left in the pit of his stomach. Had it been silly to really not expect that kind of treatment back in the Meadowlands? At a family fair no less? Granted the sheep was an old-timer, and with age came a stubborn unwillingness to accept change and a lack of knowing when to keep ones mouth shut. But the nasty old billy managed to get under Vernon's pelt much worse than anyone back in Zootopia seemed to be capable of.

Dawn was right, everything she had said was on point. The old goat's judgment and attitude was something small and petty in the grand scheme of things. But denying them access to the ride was a severe over-reach, and it left Vernon completely livid. The wolf hated to let something like that slide regardless of how sound the reasoning was. He wanted desperately to bring his Father around when it came to his attitude toward Dawn, and he knew trying to keep a low profile would most likely help that. But standing there, being dressed down by that old culler, allowing him to speak to Dawn so rudely. It made the desire to belt the mammal right in his smug muzzle the more appealing option. And to be honest, if Dawn hadn't managed to pull him back from the brink, the wolf would have most likely done so.

That sobering moment had made Vernon realize exactly just how deeply his emotions were starting to get the better of him. Had that goat been any other mammal in Zootopia, on just an average day, he surely would have handled the situation differently. The wolf would have found a way to diffuse the situation without violence. Maybe he would have outsmarted him, beaten him down with words, something to the effect of how he had handled the wolf couple on the train ride out to the Meadowlands in the first place. But everything that had happened so far, his Father, Yuri, Ana, each encounter had been winding him up further and further. The stress, rage and anxiety building with each dispute while he tried desperately to bury it. To keep a stiff upper lip, to be optimistic, all to try to keep up the facade that he was alright in Dawn's eyes. Or at least, less miserable than he had really been. He had even managed to try to put aside the woes of family acceptance in an effort for just a pure day of fun with his Honey Lamb, but even without the other Hunters present he had been unable to escape confrontation.

The fact that Ana had even been at the fair was as if the gods themselves were mocking him, chiding him for even thinking he could have one nice day with his mate in the town he grew up in. That he could share something close and intimate with Dawn without the weight of his Father's judgment overshadowing it. But Ana and the old goat had pulled it right back to the forefront of the wolf's mind, and the beautiful day at the fair he had planned turned into nothing short of a catastrophe.

It had been so long since the wolf had felt such violent impulses, a trait of his he had believed to be not just dormant, but long dead. But with everything that was layering itself on his mind, he could feel the grasp on his emotions slipping. The old mindset of the troubled young pup he once had been was clawing it's way to the surface. It wanted to fight, his stubborn father, his stupid brother, and that bigoted old goat. And the more he tried to suppress how he really felt about the reunion so far, the more restless it became. Vernon would have to let off some steam one way or another eventually, something to ease the pressure building within. But short of suddenly gaining his Father's approval or simply turning to Dawn in a collapsed heap, weeping and admitting his various fears and doubts about the whole scenario, the wolf wasn't going to get enough of the emotion out.

Still Vernon tried to take solace in the idea that at least hiding in the dark back room of the family corn and pie stall might be enough to at least ease some of his suffering. Especially if Dawn kept up the rather soothing head petting she had been doing since they left the 'tunnel of love' behind. Just the prospect of some, mostly quiet and alone time with his Honey Lamb felt like heaven at the moment. A much needed reprieve from the prying eyes and barbed tongues of other judgmental fair-goers, or possibly even Ana again. Granted, the wolf reasoned the stand would probably be swarming with noisy patrons, but at least they'd be well out of sight.

Yet as the food stand finally came into view, it quickly became apparent that the couple wouldn't have to worry about any noise at all coming from the crowds. The Hunter Family's usually bustling food stall was practically a ghost town. There wasn't a crowd, a line, or even a single customer. All Vernon could see was his Mother and Malcolm, both of whom we're looking bored out of their skulls. His Mother in particular had taken to leaning on the counter, a paw against her face as she let out a tired sigh. It was only as she noticed Vernon's approach did she seem to wake up, snapping to attention and wiping the counter where she had been leaning previously. The wolf's Mother never liked to seem as though she wasn't doing some degree of work, and catching her like that had always been a rare sight. A sight Vernon would have laughed at if not for the alien strangeness that the empty stall created. Audrey offered a jovial wave as the pair walked over to the counter.

"Howdy you two!" Audrey chirped. "I hope ya'll been having a good time at the fair!"

Vernon let out a derisive sigh.

"Trying to." Vernon grumbled. "But we hit a few snags along the way."

"Aww Darlin', I'm sorry to hear that." The she wolf gestured to the pair to sit on the stools near the counter. "Wanna talk about it?"

Vernon sat in the stool in front of him before easing Dawn off his shoulders and into the seat next to him. He hated to put an end to the soothing head petting, but he figured the ewe would have a harder time joining the conversation if he hadn't placed her closer to eye level. Dawn seemed like she was almost in a dreamlike state as the wolf eased her into the chair, only snapping out of it as she was plopped onto the seat. Now alert, she eyed Vernon with concern, but the wolf turned away, eager to shut down the possible conversation at hand.

"I'd rather not Ma." Vernon muttered. "I just want to unwind and not think about anything." Vernon flashed the ewe a meek smile, trying to keep up the facade of being relatively okay. "I think we both do."

That managed to earn him a genuine smile from Dawn, and assured the wolf that the illusion was still in place.

"What about you Ma?" Vernon asked. "I ain't never seen the stand this dead. You just get back from break or something?"

"W-well I-" Audrey sighed. "I just don't know Puppy." She shook her head.

"Stands been doing this bad for hours Vern." Malcolm chimed in, sliding another boxed pie onto a nearby shelf. "Started tapering off after lunch. It's the strangest dog-gone thing." The red wolf muttered.

"Your serious?" Vernon asked.

"Deadly." Audrey replied, giving the wolf a solemn stare.

"We've had one or two stragglers, but otherwise it's been practically as dull as a desert here." Malcolm added.

"If things keep up like this we're going to end up with more pies than we know what to do with." Audrey leaned back on the counter, scratching her head. "I just can't figure out what is going on. It's like everyone's avoidin' us."

There was a brief, uneasy silence as the phrase 'avoidin' us' seemed to hang in the air. Vernon found himself thinking back to the 'tunnel of love' once again. The stares from the couples waiting to ride, the glances he was sure they had gotten on the walk back to 'Hunter's Bounty'. For a moment the wolf feared that perhaps, his relationship with Dawn may have been the source of the drop in customers at the family food stall. 'But it couldn't be.' The wolf was quick to reassure himself. It seemed unlikely that most of the fairgoers could connect the couple to the family by look alone.

"Anywho, don't worry about this mess Vern." Audrey's tone was suddenly less dismal as she stood back up. "How'd you two like some roasted corn?"

"We're holding out for a picnic later today." Vernon chuckled. "I'm going to be doing the roasting myself while we're out there."

"Aww..." Audrey cooed. "Ain't that sweet." The wolfess gave Vernon's head fur a playful tussle, causing him to pull back and swat playfully at her.

"Ma! C'mon now!" Vernon gestured his head to Dawn.

"Oh hush, you'll always be my Puppy, I don't care who's watchin'!" Audrey teased, earning a giggle from Dawn.

"Well if food ain't the reason you're back so soon, then what is it? You can't be callin' the fair quits already?" Malcolm interjected, licking a spoon covered in pie mix. "We ain't closin' for another hour."

"Maybe not if this keeps up." Audrey lamented.

Vernon let out another sigh. "W-we're just tuckered out." He said glumly. "We decided to call it early and relax until we all head back home." Vernon tried to make his voice firm. It wasn't entirely a lie, after all they we're looking to relax. But the why was still something Vernon wasn't keen on sharing with either of them.

The red wolf nodded, turning back to the oven nearest to him.

"Well your welcome to hide in the back until-" Audrey's ears suddenly perked up, and she pivoted her head to the side of Vernon. The she wolf squinted for a moment. "What in the Fenrir's fur is that commotion?"

Vernon glanced over his shoulder to see a crowd building a few stalls down from the stand, but unlike the previous ones that had gathered to gawk at him and Dawn in the midst of fighting, this one was on the move. As Vernon spun around on his stool to get a better look it quickly became apparent exactly where the crowd was heading.

"You've got to be kidding me." Vernon muttered, slapping a paw over his face. While most in the mob remained unfamiliar, at the front Vernon easily recognized a very exasperated looking Kendrick Loupon. Thankfully, there was no sign of Ana, but more worryingly a particularly well dressed sheep was walking next to him. The ram was dressed in a fine green suit and matching top hat, with finely maintained wool and expertly polished spiral horns tightly spun near his ears. Vernon could only describe the look on his face as something close to constipation. His eyes were focused on the stand sitting directly in the path of the mob, his Mother's stand.

"Mr. Ruddy?" Audrey piped up as the crowd arrived. They gave the short representative and his towering wolf assistant a wide berth around the stand as the sheep made his way near Vernon and his Mother. The stout little sheep seemed to be sweating up a storm.

"M-Mrs. Hunter." Damon stuttered. The ram pulled a handkerchief from his suit pocket, dabbing his forehead lightly as he evidently tried to compose himself.

"Somethin' wrong?" Audrey leaned over the counter, eyeing the ram in confusion.

"W-well...um..." Damon glanced over his shoulder briefly at the mob that had swelled behind him. Vernon watched Kendrick as he paced the perimeter, watching the crowd as he mopped his forehead with a napkin of his own. "I-er...well Ma'am. I..." The sheep looked down at his hooves, wringing them nervously as he seemed to fumble with his words. "I-It's just-

"We've received a number of complaints." Kendrick said, making his way closer to the stand. " A great number of the citizens attending the fair are rather troubled. You see they-"

Audrey waived her paws defensively. "Hey now if this is about the food, I assure ya'll everything is fresh and kept refrigerated." The she-wolf crossed her arms. "I've been telling the fair's board of directors for years them food poisoning cases been coming from that sushi stand. I told 'em a fair ground ain't no place to be servin' raw fish."

Ruddy coughed awkwardly, pulling at his collar. It was clear the sheep was uncomfortable with whatever he was leading up to. Vernon had his suspicions of course, but part of him was praying that for once during the whole trip he would be wrong.

"No, no." The sheep chuckled weakly. "W-we've already handled that."

"Yes, we've made sure their refrigeration units were up to code this year." Kendrick added, biting his lip.

"Well then what's the issue boys?" Audrey asked, placing a paw on her hip.

At this, both the finely dressed mammals glanced at each other nervously. Their eyes seemed to be searching for an out, for one of them to get whatever it was off their chests and take the brunt of whatever fallout was going to come from it. Ultimately, it was Ruddy who lost the stare down, snapping his attention back to Audrey as he let out an irritated sigh.

"M-Mrs. Hunter, first I want you to know t-that you and your family have b-been a valued member of our community for years."

"Mhh Hmm..." Audrey hummed.

"I-I mean your husband is the best Sheriff we've had in our community, a-and well, your stand here is a fair favorite!" The sheep added, tapping his hooves together idly.

"Mhh Hmm..." The she wolf repeated, , her tone becoming increasingly impatient.

"But w-well, But..."

"But what?" Vernon finally asked, drawing the sheep's attention on him. He could see fear in the rams eyes as Ruddy glanced at him, and as the little sheep's glance shifted to Dawn and back to again it all but confirmed what he was getting at.

"We-uh..." Ruddy stuttered. "because of the commotion I m-mean, we're u-uh-"

"We're going to have to ask you to leave the fair." Kendrick cut it, his eyes falling on Vernon and Dawn. Vernon could feel his stomach drop. Once again he had to have the misfortune of being right on the money. But what surprised him was Loupon's demeanor. Vernon had expected the wolf to be wearing a smug grin, after all he was clearly making good on his threat. Yet the wolf still seemed very uncomfortable, as if he really didn't want to be there in the first place. That managed to throw Vernon off, and prevented him from being the first to respond.

"W-what?!" Audrey barked, looking over at the couple seated on the stools in front of her. "What for!? What did they do?!"

Vernon sighed sharply. "We've done nothing Ma." Vernon grumbled, glowering at the officials. "Nothin' they got a law for anyway."

Ruddy pulled at his collar again. "W-well you see...I um-It's just." The ram tried to continue, dabbing his brow again.

"A lot of the fair goers are getting antsy." Loupon interjected. " Getting vocal and causing a stir, threatening to leave the fair and so forth. Many of them have threatened to not spend a cent on the fair, and never coming back you see."

"Because?" Audrey leaned on the counter. Vernon could see his Mother's was scowling at the gentlemam almost as badly as he was. A clear sign she was catching on.

"Well-Ah..." Ruddy continued.

"BECAUSE OF THE FREAKSHOW!" A familiar voice barked out from the crowd. Vernon could feel bile rising in his throat as he watched the angry wolfess make her way out of the mob, pushing several members of the crowd aside on her way to the front. Of course Ana couldn't have been far behind her mate, otherwise how would she show him off to anyone? Ana squeezed her way between the two officials before striking a rather confident stance. She flashed Vernon a mischievous grin as she glanced down at the couple.

"IT'S AN AFFRONT TO ALL THE MAMMALS HERE!" Ana continued loudly. "A DISGUSTING DISPLAY THAT SHOULDN'T BE SEEN AT A 'FAMILY-FRIENDLY' FAIR!"

"Ana!" Kendrick tried to place a paw on the wolfess, but she shoved him away slightly.

"WHY CAN'T WEIRDOS LIKE YOU LEAVE THAT SORT OF THING AT HOME!? HUH!?" The wolfess hissed. Unlike before, a few members of the mob could be heard yelling in agreement.

Vernon was off his stool in Ana's face in the blink of an eye. He was growling down at her, gnashing his teeth. But despite his attempts at intimidation Ana hadn't even flinched. Instead she continued to smugly smile back up at him.

"Is yer whole life devoted to making other mammals miserable?" Vernon hissed.

"Just you." Ana's smug grin seemed to widen as she whispered. "But I also can't let that little grazer talking back to me slide. You both need to learn your place."

"Now hold on one second!" Audrey barked, her attention remaining on Ruddy and Loupon. "You folks ain't never seemed to have a problem with the kind of relationships any of my other pups had! So why them!?" She motioned over to Vernon and Dawn.

Ruddy seemed to be coming apart at the seams. The ram was practically swabbing his receding wool line with his handkerchief as he tried to speak. At first it was nothing but barely audible squeaks.

"W-well, we've had complaints b-before." Ruddy said. "Z-zach and Vanna a-alone tend to d-draw attention b-but..." The sheep stammered.

"BUT WHAT!?" Audrey had lurched over her counter slightly, causing the ram to practically recoil into his suit.

"Because the c-complaints were so few, and with your families service to the Meadowlands w-we t-tended to ignore them." Loupon added.

"Well ain't that a fine how do you do!?" Audrey stood back up, placing her paws on her hips as she glowered at the crowd. "This is the first I've heard of this from any of ya'll!" She stabbed a finger at the mob. Some seemed to shrink slightly. "And I thought I knew you people!"

Audrey head swiveled as she pointed at various members of the crowd. "Mrs. Stag? Mr. Hornsby? Even you Mr. and Mrs. Molina? Fer crying out loud I've known you both since grade school!" With each name listed off, various members of the crowd seemed to shrink in shame.

"And Damon, yer one of Dori's best friends!" The she wolf returned her attention to Ruddy. The sheep sunk further into his pressed suit. He raised his hooves in self defense. "What makes this different then those other times!?"

"The number of complaints Mrs. Hunter." Loupon added, nervously straightening his tie. "I-I'm afraid there were far too many to sweep under the rug. I m-mean two preds or two prey mammals of different species are one issue, but a prey and a pred-"

"IT'S UNNATURAL!" Ana pushed away from Vernon, turning her attention to the crowd. "IT GOES AGAINST THE NATURAL ORDER!"

"ANA PLEASE!" Kendrick protested.

The she wolf let out a snort, crossing her arms as she turned her back to the wolf. Wiping his brow, Loupon continued.

"It just makes too many mammals uncomfortable. And we don't want any scenes breaking out today." Loupon said in a lowered tone.

"Well ya'll certainly done a good job on that!" Audrey snapped, gesturing a paw to the crowd. " You stirred up a damn lynch mob and brought 'em here. All that's missing is the torches and pitchforks!"

As his Mother spoke, Vernon noticed Ana's ears perk up at the mention of a 'lynch mob', letting out a low chuckle. Vernon stormed over to Ana, grasping the she-wolf by a shoulder and forcing her to face him.

"You did this didn't you?" Vernon hissed. "This crowd is on you!? Ain't it!?"

Ana flashed a smug smile. "What, me!?" She cooed. "I would never!" The she-wolf feigned innocence as she pulled Vernon's paw off her. "But if some of these good mammals overheard me talking to Ken and were just as disgusted as I was....well..." Ana's grin became practically Cheshire as she eyed Vernon evilly. "I can't help that."

"WHY YOU LOUSY LITTLE B-" Vernon stopped as he felt a hoof grasp his paw tightly, pulling him back. Looking down he found Dawn had stepped off her stool and was now by his side. She looked up at him sadly.

"Floof's, what-?"

"We'll go." Dawn replied.

"WHAT!?" Vernon barked.

Dawn released her grip on the wolf, making her way between Audrey, Ruddy, and Loupon. Turning her attention to Ruddy, she cleared her throat.

"As someone who used to work in politics I understand the awkward position Vernon and I have placed you in." Dawn said.

Ruddy's eyes went wide. "Wait, D-Dawn Bellwether?"

Dawn gave a simple nod.

Ruddy turned to Loupon, gesturing his hooves at the ewe in front of him. "You didn't tell me she was Dawn Bellwether!" He hissed quietly. Loupon scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

"Ms. Bellwether, I am terrible sorry, I truly am." Ruddy said, turning his attention back to Dawn. "I hate to put you in this position considering the circumstances. After what you did for Zootopia I-"

Dawn raised a hoof to stop the ram.

"Vernon and I didn't mean to cause any trouble. But we understand we aren't in a very..." The ewe fiddled her hooves nervously. "'conventional' relationship." The ewe sighed.

"So, for the sake of everyone else here..." Dawn looked up at Audrey sadly. "Vernon and I will leave."

"Honey Lamb!" Vernon barked in disbelief. But Dawn simply shook her head. Walking back over to Vernon's side, Dawn wrapped a hoof around his paw, squeezing it tightly. She looked up at him with sad, glistening eyes. But he could see a look of resignation in them as well. It was a battle they weren't equipped to fight, a stand they weren't in position to hold. For the sake of the rest of the Hunters, they had to back down.

"It's not worth it Vernon." Dawn glanced at the proud she-wolf still smugly smiling at them. Vernon could see Dawn's tearful eyes were burning with disgust. "She's not worth it."

"OH!" Ana laughed, placing a paw to her chest. "Looking down on Preds again are we? I guess you haven't changed as much as you think?" Ana let out a howling laugh.

Dawn turned away from Ana, pulling Vernon with her as they now faced the stand.

"Mrs. Hunter, could Malcolm drive us back to the ranch?" Dawn asked.

"Nothin' doin' Darlin', you two ain't leavin!" Audrey's tone was decisive as she slammed a paw on the table.

"Please Mrs. Hunter, we've caused enough trouble. I don't want to make things worse for you or the others." Dawn said somberly.

"Oh you poor thing!" Ana cooed. "You think you haven't already!?" The she-wolf barked.

Vernon snapped his attention back to Ana, letting out a rolling growl.

"Would you shut up already! You got what ya wanted!" Vernon snarled.

"Not yet." Ana sneered. The wolfess gave her mate a shove, causing Kendrick to stumble slightly.

"Tell him!" She gestured to Vernon. "Tell him Ken!" She grinned.

"What's she gettin' at Damon?" Audrey asked the diminutive ram. The sheep shifted uncomfortably as he returned to twiddling his hooves. The silence seemed to linger as the ram failed to make any sort of noise. He seemed unable to even look Audrey in the eyes.

"A-all of you have to leave." Loupon said.

"What?" Audrey asked coldly, staring daggers at the large wolf.

"W-well...um..." Loupon gulped, going as dry mouthed as Ruddy seemed to have gone.

"YOU'RE ALL LEAVIN'!" Ana cackled. "ALL YOU HUNTERS ARE GOING BYE BYE!" Pushing Loupon aside, Ana pranced up to the counter.

"Maybe now your son will learn his place Auddy my dear." Ana cooed.

"DON'T you call me Auddy!" Audrey hissed.

On the outside, Vernon was frozen. His facial expression was stuck in neutral as the emotions below the surface fought to process all that was happening and respond accordingly. This was it, the worst possible outcome the date at the fair could possibly yield. In the grand scheme of things, Ana and the old goat had gotten under Vernon's pelt and effectively soured the date. But that was something Vernon could stand. It would have taken time for the ire to fully settle, but he would have gotten through it, that he was sure of. But those confrontations were on him, and only affected the two of them. But now the events that had been set in motion were going to cause the one thing that he had been certain was impossible. The one thing that would eat at him worse than anything else. Ana was set to prove his Father's prediction right. He and Dawn would be responsible for ruining the families reputation, for getting the whole lot of them ejected from the fair. The thought alone caused his lips to curl in disgust. His ignorant Father would end up feeling justified, and worse yet, would think even less of Dawn.

Ana it seemed had wasted no time spreading as much awful gossip that she could to any mammal that would listen. It certainly explained why the customers started ignoring the family stand, after all the time frame certainly lined up. Whether she had started dragging the families name through the mud at first, or merely expanded to the other Hunters while ragging on Vernon as the day wore on, the damage had already been done. She had got it in her head to hurt all of them for Vernon's transgression, and she was set to make good on it.

"You are a MONSTER!" That had come from Dawn. Vernon looked down at his empty paw in surprise. The ewe must have pulled away from him while he was lost in thought, and was now standing toe to toe with Ana.

"Well ain't that the pot calling the kettle'!" Anna let out another howling laugh, causing a few wolves in the crowd to let out howls of their own.

"You are so PETTY! So VINDICTIVE!" Dawn snarled. "Are you really so much of a child that you have to punish innocent mammals because you don't like us?!"

Ana let out another laugh. "Look who's talking about PETTYNESS! About PUNISHING INNOCENT MAMMALS!" Ana gestured to the gaggle of onlookers.

"DAWN BELLWETHER! THE CRIMINAL MASTERMIND WHO MANIPULATED THE CITY!" Ana held out her arms.

"ANA!" Kedrick yelled, but by now the she-wolf seemed to be on a roll.

"OH SURE, SHE SAVED THE CITY AFTER THE FACT! BUT WHO REALLY KNOWS HOW THINGS PLAYED OUT IN THAT FACTORY!?" Ana grinned widely at her audience. "WHO'S TO SAY SHE WASN'T LOOKING TO SAVE HER OWN PELT! OR TO MAKE US FORGET WHAT SHE DID!"

"LOUPON, TELL YOUR MATE TO-"

"TO WHAT!?" Ana cut Ruddy off, looming over the small sheep and scaring him into silence. "TO STOP TELLING EVERYONE THE TRUTH!?"

Dawn's firm stance seemed to falter slightly as Vernon watched. His paws beginning to tighten into fists.

Ana spun back to th diminutive ewe. "AND NOW SHE'S TRYING TO HIDE BEHIND DATING A PRED! TO MAKE IT LOOK LIKE SHE'S REALLY CHANGED! THAT' A RIOT!" Ana let out a barking laugh.

Vernon could feel his claws digging into his pads as he clenched his fists tighter. His Mother had always told him never to hit a girl, and it was a rule he had always obeyed. But at that moment he was about three seconds away from slugging Ana and being done with it.

"EVERYONE KNOW'S YOU'RE STILL THE SAME-" Ana was cut off as she suddenly found herself slammed against the Hunter stand, bowling over a stool in the process. It took Vernon a second to realize that he hadn't moved, that the punch hadn't come from him despite his blinding fury. Instead, Ada was standing where he wished he was, the hyeness towering over the crumpled she-wolf.

"Ya got a big mouth doncha? I guess nobody eva took da time to teach ya how ta shut it." Ada muttered, crossing her paws as she glowered down at the wolf. Ana seemed to still be trying to make sense of what just happened. Clutching a paw to her face, she glanced around wildly at everyone. The she-wolf looked terrified, like she wanted to flee. It was the first time Vernon had ever seen Ana make a face like that, and he'd be lying if he said it didn't make him feel good.

"Y-you...wh!? Who?" Ana sputtered, evidently still reeling from the blow. Vernon could see a small trickle of blood coming from her nose.

"Ada!" Vernon watched as Vanna ran up to the hyena's side. The tigress placed her head in her paw. " Sweet Savannah, not again. I told you not to go in guns a blazing!"

"Tch, that's how you deal with a gal like that." Ada huffed. "I could tell by da way she was talkin' she ain't never had to fight for anyting in her life. She's all blusta!"

Ana staggered to her feet, the terror on her face now replaced with blind fury.

"W-WHY YOU! I'LL! I'LL-! Ana hissed, rubbing her muzzle fiercely.

Ada lunged, causing Ana to recoil as the hyeness loomed over her. "OR YOU'LL WHAT!?" Ada sneered.

"I-I'LL, I-I..." Ana stammered as Ada crept closer.

"I know your type, I grew up around goils like you! Youse all love ta talk and talk about hows great youse are, how strong and tuff youse are, how much better you are den everyone else!" Ada huffed. " But da second someone challenges ya on dat you find da biggest fella you can to hide behind, and have him do your doity woik!"

Ada continued to stalk forward, and soon Ana found herself with her back against the Hunter family stall.

"And if dat guy is can't do da job youse move on ta the next one, all so you don't eva have to fight for yaself!" Ada crossed her arms, defiantly grinning at the wolfess. "We had woids for goils like you back home, pletny of 'em, but I tink 'bitch' is the best fit for ya."

Vernon saw a flash of white scurry up Ada's back, scrambling onto the hyeness' head before coming to a stop. Qali was now leaning her palms on Ada's crown, stabbing a finger at the bewildered she-wolf.

"Yeah! What Ada said!" Qali chirped.

Ada grumbled, glancing up at the arctic fox now leaning on her head.

"Youse are kinda undaminin' my point sis." Ada lamented.

"What, you don't think I can take her one on one?" Qali asked, glancing down at the Hyena below. Qali raised her arm, flexing it to the best of her abilities as she flashed Ada a confident smile.

"Chuckles, I cut trees for a living. And I'm fast and wiry." Qali said, as she made her way back to the ground, taking a stance by Ada's side. The artic fox beamed a smile up at the larger canine. "I can topple her faster than a blue-spruce!"

"Y-YOU!" Ana seemed to find her footing, striking a somewhat shaky offensive stance. The she-wolf wiped the little bit of blood from her nose, a steady growl now thrumming from her throat. "YOU THINK I WOULDN'T...I..." Ana flinched, stumbling over her words as she seemed to second guess herself. " I WOULDN'T THINK TWICE ABOUT HITTING A...A..." Ana struggled.

"Not tinkin' twice huh?" Ada let out a hyena cackle.

"WHY I! I'LL!" Ana reeled back a fist, holding it behind her in as threatening a manner as she could between fits of trembling. It was a strange sight for Vernon, seeing Ana vulnerable for once. All of her confidence, her cocksure attitude, all of it vaporized in an instant. Leaving behind nothing but a scared little welp of a pup whose eyes were now darting around in desperate search for help as she tried to regain her composure. It didn't help that Ada was at least a foot and a half taller than she was, and twice as wide. The large canine took another step forward, bearing a cocky smile of her own.

"Oh I'd love ta see it, in fact..." Ada puffed out her chest, drawing an 'x' across it with her paw. "I'll give ya da foist shot for free!"

"Now, now, this has gone far enough." Vanna said, placing a paw on Ada's shoulder. "There was no need for violence before and there isn't-"

"Aw c'mon Kit Kat, you can't tell me she wasn't axing for it!" Ada turned, offering Vanna a shrug.

Vernon saw a glint of mischief return to the wilted she-wolf's eye. Ana, seeing her opening now that Ada was distracted, let out an enraged snarl as she released her fist. It was coming in fast and hard, right toward the back of Ada's head. Perhaps she was hoping to knock her out with all the force she had in that one punch, to use the cheap shot to her advantage and hopefully end the fight before it began. But Vernon knew better. Ada was a mammal who could take her licks and then some. And when it came to fighting, Ada was a mammal who showed no mercy, especially when her opponent chose to fight dirty.

But the blow never connected with it's intended target. Instead of a loud 'thump', there was a weak, almost inaudible 'thwap' as Ana's paw met with Vanna's upper chest. The tigress had simply stepped in the way of the blow at the last minute, standing stock still as Ana put all her might into her swing. Vanna hadn't even flinched, as if the blow was little more than a light breeze against her hulking frame. The same could not be said for Ana, who let out a painful yelp as she withdrew her paw, cradling it like a puppy.

"I said this has gone far enough!" Vanna said bluntly, crossing her arms as she glowered down at the wounded she-wolf.

"If you think I am going to stand by after what that-that MONGREL did to me I-I'LL-!"

"Ma'am please." Vanna sighed. " I agree that my sister overstepped her boundaries and I can assure you it will be taken care of." Vanna flashed Ada a disapproving glance.

"Oh, and who's taking care of it!? You!?" Ana snapped. "I don't care if she's somehow your sister or not, she's not walking away from this!" Ana growled.

"Ma'am, pl-"

I-I'LL-" Ana sputtered, dragging a shaking paw across her scalp. "IF I HAVE TO GO THROUGH Y-YOU TO GET TO HER I'LL DO IT!" Ana quickly grasped the nearest stool, holding it up defensively toward the towering tigress. Despite her threatening statement, the wolfess seemed to be wielding it more like a shield than a cudgel.

"Ma'am, you've already hit me once. Please don't make it any worse by willingly attempting to assault an officer of the law." As Vanna spoke, she reached into her jean pocket, pulling out her badge and displaying it for Ana to see.

"O-Officer!?" Ana whined, dropping the stool abruptly. Ana's stance quickly fell back into a cower. "O-oh Officer! I-I'm so sorry!" Ana whimpered. "I-I really didn't mean to hit you!"

Vanna crossed her arms, giving a simple nod.

"I-it's just that she hit me first!" Ana stabbed a claw toward the large hyena now peeking out from behind the larger tigress.

"As I said, she overstepped her boundaries." Vanna sighed. "Preferably I'd like to work this out without having to take anyone to the station. But just because she is my sister doesn't mean I won't follow procedure should you choose to press charges."

Ana seemed to be starting to calm down, her stance easing into something more relaxed as she began to compose herself. Ana ran another paw through her hair, brushing as much of it back up and away from her eyes as she could.

"Ahem, thank you officer." Ana replied, pulling the edges of her jacket in an effort to straighten it out. "Yes, yes I would like to press charges once the first problem is taken care of."

"And that is?" Vanna asked.

"The Hunter's are being difficult. They've been asked to leave by Representative Ruddy and Assistant Representative Kendrick Loupon. My mate." Ana's smug grin returned.

"I see..." Vanna raised an eyebrow. "And exactly on what grounds has my family been asked to leave the fair?"

Ana's smile instantly dropped, a look of wild disbelief taking hold of her.

"Y-your family!?" She sputtered.

Vanna gave another simple, affirmative nod.

"Officer Hunter." Ruddy said, drawing the tigress' attention. " I'm afraid we've received a number of compl-"

"Too many townsfolk seem to have a problem with 'crosser' couples it seems!" Audrey cut the sheep off, causing him to shrink in shame. " So they're fixin' to throw us all out."

Vanna eyed the representative coldly. "Is that a fact?" The feline muttered. "I've never heard anyone complain before."

Ruddy began to wave his hooves defensively at an almost blinding speed. "I-I mean no disrespect Officer Hunter." The ram sputtered, dabbing his brow with his napkin. "It's just that the fair-goers are-"

"Kitten? Vern? What's going on here?" Now Zach had arrived, complete with Wade, and Trenton. The wolf made his way over to Vanna's side.

"Ah! Oh!" Ruddy seemed to shrink even further as the opposition grew. "Officer Hunter, I mean the other officer Hunter, yes well."

"WAIT JUST A MINUTE!" Ana hissed, stabbing a finger at Zach. The she-wolf looked almost crazed as she evidently tried to grasp what was happening. "WHAT IS THIS!? DO ALL OF YOU WORK IN THE MEADOWLANDS POLICE OR SOMETHING!?"

Zach raised an eyebrow at the rapidly unraveling she-wolf. "Uh..."

"Not the Meadowlands specifically, no." Trenton added.

Ana let out a large, aggravated huff. "ALRIGHT LOOK!" She sneered, stabbing a paw at Vanna and Zach. "YOU SAID YOU'D DO YOUR JOB REGARDLESS! SO GET THE REST OF YOUR FAMILY OUT OF HERE!

"Woah, woah, what is going on now?" Wade asked, glancing around at the swarm of confused mammals at the perimeter of the developing scene.

"We'll we haven't establi-"

"KICK THEM OUT BY FORCE! DO YOUR JOB!" Ana snapped, her eyes darting around to the various Hunters.

"I-I don't think we need to go t-that far Miss Windpaw." Ruddy interjected.

"I should hope not." That reply had come from Xavier, who was now making his way though the mob. The distinguished wolf pulled at the edges of his jacket as he approached the Representatives.

"I-I'm sorry, and you are?" Loupon asked.

"Xavier Hunter." The wolf adjusted his spectacles before extending his paw to the stout ram. The vigorous handshake sent visible shockwaves through the already twitchy ram, nearly causing him to stumble back as Xavier released his grip. Then in one smooth motion the wolf reached into the inside of his jacket and produced a business card. As the dazed ram took the slip, Xavier continued. "I represent the law offices of Fienstag, Goldram, and Hunter in San Francisgoat. Perhaps you've heard of us?" He stated.

"F-Fienstag, Gold...?" Ruddy murmured in confusion as he eyed the card

"Law Offices, as in Lawyer?" Loupon asked.

"Correct." Xavier affirmed. "We handle all sorts of cases from criminal to civil, but we happen to specialize in cases of a discriminatory nature." The well dressed wolf gestured to himself. "In fact I handle most of our firms suits specifically pertaining to discrimination against 'unorthodox couplings'."

Xavier briefly glanced at Malcolm who was now leaning over the stalls counter, flashing the wolf a sad looking smile before continuing "Cases like those tend to strike a rather sympathetic chord in me."

Vernon could see the focus of the crowd was starting to wane, uncertain discussions and uncomfortable mumbling now starting to weave through the mob.

"Of course you realize any attempt to eject my family from this public festival, especially those who have a financial investment in providing services to this fair on the grounds of who members of their family choose to mate with is well..." Xavier chuckled. "...pretty much a textbook case of discrimination."

"W-Well now hold o-on..." Ruddy said weakly, dabbing his forehead once more with his soaked handkerchief. Xavier seemed unfazed by the nervous rams words, pressing onward with his own agenda.

"Legally speaking, I'd say that's pretty much an open and shut case." The wolf clapped his paws together, wiping them free of imaginary dirt. " And with someone as prominent as Miss Bellwether..." Xavier trailed off, gesturing to the small ewe by Vernon's side.

Vernon could feel the sheep lean into him as the attention suddenly drew their way, and placed a protective paw around her shoulder, pulling her in close to his side.

"Why, I'm sure there isn't a mammal here who hasn't seen her in the news over the last few months?" Xavier turned his address to the crowd around him. "Who isn't aware of her most recent deeds, and the publicity surrounding them?" The wolf turned back toward Dawn and Vernon, flashing the pair a smile. "Why, she's become one of Zootopia's greatest heroes!"

Vernon glanced down at the ewe squeezing tightly against him. He could tell the ewe was still worried with the way she was clutching at his side. But at the same time he could see the hint of a smile forming on her lips, and as she turned to look up at him, the glimmer of tears forming in her eyes. Vernon flashed the ewe a broad grin as he gently rubbed her shoulder before turning his attention to the brother now at center stage. It was true the whole situation was a mess, it had all gone careening off the rails so rapidly. Yet despite everything, seeing so much of his family stand up for him and his mate filled Vernon with pride. It was clear they genuinely cared, for him and Dawn. And now that they were standing with them, toe to toe against Ana and the mob she had brought down on them, Vernon felt as though perhaps they might come out of this one clean after all.

"A real media darling, despite her past transgressions." Xavier continued, adjusting his glasses. "Her name being attached to anything would draw a lot of attention." The wolf smiled, turning his focus back to Ruddy and Loupon.

"And a legal case?" Xavier chuckled. "Why, a case like that would get major coverage in the city, hell probably even all of North Mammalia! It certainly would make for a great career highlight for myself, although I don't think I could say the same for the two of you." The wolf gestured to Loupon and Ruddy.

"Why I imagine the both of you wouldn't so much as even be able to find employment as a bathroom attendant at a dive bar after the publicity from a case like that." Xavier chuckled.

"N-now just hold on a moment." Ken tried to interject, but Xavier shut the wolf down.

"For what?" Xavier replied, the wolf's grin widening to something akin to a sneer. "Not only could I sue the both of you for your discriminatory actions, but I could file a subpoena to find out the names of every mammal who lodged a complaint against my brother and his mate and add them to the docket as well."

That statement earned a cacophony of fearful utterances and cowing from the assembled mob. Vernon could see the once firm encompassing ring of mammals now beginning to back away from the scene. But it seemed Xavier wasn't done with them as the wolf turned his full attention back to the crowd.

"As a matter of fact, it might be easier if you all lined up right now and gave your information voluntarily. It would make the process so much smoother for everyone!"

At that moment, several members of the crowd began to break away, hastily jogging away from the scene that was unfolding. The rest of the crowd was fairing little better, as their fearful cries grew louder under the prospect of legal action. The ones closest to the front were starting to push against those behind them, all looking for a place to scatter like rats fleeing a sinking ship. Xavier meanwhile, seemed to be a mammal possessed as he stormed toward the throbbing mob.

"Come now? No one willing to stand by their ideas?" Xavier stated, his voice elevated. "Bigotry not a fine enough sword to die on when your money is on the line?"

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" A voice boomed from beyond the crowd. A loud, demanding and familiar voice that immediately caused Vernon's ears to droop. Vernon watched the crowd part as his Father marched onto the now hushed scene, taking a stand at the head of the crowd and effectively blocking Xavier. The imposing white wolf adjusted his hat, flashing a dull glare in the direction of the mounting madness before crossing his arms. The older wolf let out a sigh.

"Sh-Sheriff Hunter!" Damon sputtered, scurrying his way to the wolf. "I-I'm so sorry to h-"

"It's fine Damon." The wolf said gruffly, silencing the ram instantly. Ruddy gave a meek and uneasy nod.

The wolf twisted his head around, giving the shrinking mob an appraising sweep with his glare. The older wolf let out a snort before turning back to the family stand. Dorian placed his paws on his hips.

"We'll go."

Vernon wasn't surprised to hear that from his Father, he had expected as much. The rest of the family seemingly hadn't though, as the other assembled Hunters erupted into cries of shock and dismay.

"DORI!" Audrey cried, pain evident in her voice.

"Sir!?" Came a confused reply from Vanna.

Xavier took a step back, eyeing Dorian in disbelief.

"We're leavin'. Pack up." Dorian said, gesturing to Audrey.

"D-Dad, how can you agree to such a-"

"It ain't a matter of agreeing with nobody." Dorian cut Xavier off. "It's a matter of keeping the peace."

With that the white wolf turned to face the crowd. Dorian cleared his throat before raising his hands to gain their attention. A useless gesture thought Vernon, as it was clear he already had it the moment he entered the scene.

"I want everyone here to disperse." Dorian stated. "This matter is handled, and you can all go back to your buisness."

"BACK TO BUISNESS?!" Now Xavier was shouting. "Not without leaving their names and-"

"Son, you ain't suin' these folks." Dorian turned back to Xavier.

"I most certainly am! I am not going to stand by an-"

"Most of these mammals ain't got much to their name son. Suin' 'em ain't gonna do anything more than take food out of their kids mouths."

"B-But you, I-" Xavier sputtered, clearly infuriated.

"And it ain't exactly going to endear them to what yer defendin' is it?"

Vernon could see the red emanating from under Xavier's fur as he stood with his mouth agape. It was clear the wolf wanted to argue, to say something. But the rather erudite wolf was evidently at a loss. After making several faces the beleaguered wolf finally let out an irritated huff.

"A-alright fine, I won't involve the towns people in the case. But I will still be seeking action against Mr. Ruddy and Mr. Loupon for their part in today's little-"

"Xavier, stand down." Dorian said tersely. "That ain't how we do things in the North Meadowlands."

"AIN'T HOW WE-AIN'T HOW-" The exasperated wolf sputtered before his face suddenly fell. An almost vile and disgusted sneer flashed on to his face as he processed Dorian's actions.

"Y-You're protecting them?" Xavier said weakly, almost surprised by his own words. "You actually agree with-"

"I said I ain't agreeing with nobody." Dorian asserted as he made his way past the wolf. The white wolf coolly strode toward the district representatives, tipping his hat as he came to a stop in front of them.

"My wife and Son-in-law will be back to run the stand tomorrow." Dorian said firmly.

"Just the two of 'em, and no one else." Dorian continued. "That is if those nobodies are smart they won't." With that, Dorian threw a cold glance in Vernon's direction. Vernon met his glance with a sneer, a low growl emanating from his throat. But he stopped as he felt Dawn ball into his side again. Looking down he could see the ewe had buried her face completely into his torso, her ears as flat against her head as they could possibly be. At that moment, he felt pure hatred for his Father. His mind swam with a variety of curses and slurs that were screaming for Vernon to start slinging them at his Father, but the bile in his throat stung so sharply that all he could muster was to start another growl. He glared back at his Father, but by now Dorian had turned his attention back to his associates.

"My family paid for that stall, and for the license to run it. And we ain't lettin' it go to waste." Dorian continued.

"But Sheriff Hunter, I-"

"No buts." Dorian cut the little ram off. "You know you ain't got no legal right to chase my family out of here over gossip." Dorian replied, leaning a paw against his holster.

"But the fair-goers!" Ruddy protested.

"They don't have to shop at our stall if they don't want. They got the freedom to turn their nose up at us. But we have the freedom to sell our wares."

"I-I." Ruddy stammered, swabbing his forehead with his napkin. "I suppose you're right." The ram gave a nervous glance toward the glowering she-wolf behind the counter of the stall. "Perhaps I was a b-bit hasty with-"

"A BIT HASTY!?" Audrey cried. "A BI-"

"Audrey." Dorian said sternly.

The wolfess stopped speaking, but she turned to staring daggers at her husband.

"WELL SHE ASSAULTED ME! SHE HIT ME RIGHT IN THE FACE!" Ana bolted to the Sheriff's side, stabbing a finger wildly at Ada's direction.

Dorian removed his hat, letting out an annoyed sigh.

"Ada, did you really hit Miss Windpaw?" The Sheriff asked.

Ada grinned widely. "I ain't gonna deny it." Ada said, swelling her chest out proudly as she strutted toward Dorian. As she approached, Ana shifted to a position behind the white wolf, almost using him as a shield from the large canine. "I'm proud of it." Ada cackled.

Dorian let off an irritated groan.

"Alright, well I suppose you wanna press charges then Miss Windpaw?" Dorian glanced over his shoulder at the cowering red wolf.

"YES! YES!" The red wolf pleaded, clutching Dorian's coat as she eyed Ada warily. "I want that BRUTE to pay for touching me!"

Dorian placed a paw to his head, closing his eyes as he rubbed his forehead.

"Ada." Dorian sighed. "I suppose ya'll know the drill?"

Ada placed a paw on her shoulder, spinning her other arm in an effort to stretch out her muscles. "Eh, c'mon Papa Hunta, if youse gotta take me in at least let me get a few more licks in there! At least make it woith da charge!" Ada reeled back her fist, causing Ana to let out another yelp as she slipped further behind Dorian.

"Ada." Dorian said firmly.

"Tch, fine." The Hyeness let out a defeated grunt as she extended her paws toward the white wolf, holding them tightly together. "Slap da cuffs on me Papa Coppa."

Dorian let out another irritated grumble as he reached for his belt. As the wolf brought his cuffs out, another voice rose over the scene.

"ADA, WHAT DID YOU DO NOW!?" Came Yuri's cry as he made his way through the disseminating crowd. A good bulk of the fair goers had already moved on by the time the wolf made his appearance, and the numbers continued to dwindle as the black wolf stopped by the side of his mate. Ada flashed Yuri a wide grin.

"Justa little playful rough-housin'." She chuckled.

"Yer mate slugged this she-wolf here." Dorian bobbed his head toward the red wolf behind him.

"What!? Why!?" Yuri sputtered, glaring at his mate.

"Cause she's got a big mouth!" Ada shrugged. "Why else?"

"No, not-" Yuri paused as he glanced back toward Dorian. "Wait, is that Ana Windpaw?" Yuri asked. "Ain't that-"

Slowly Yuri turned his head in Vernon's direction, his already soured face developing an even deeper sneer as he glared at him.

"Oh, I should have realized that 'Vermin' had something to do with this." The wolf hissed.

Vernon glared back, but he didn't linger long as he felt Dawn still pressing her head deeper into his side. He could feel slight moisture from the ewe's tears beginning to soak through the thread of his shirt. Vernon placed his paw on her back and began to rub it reassuringly.

"YURI! Watch yer mouth!" Dorian snapped. "We got rodent families around, they don't need to be hearin' that kinda talk!"

Yuri crossed his arms. "Why is it you always have to drag the rest of us into your personal problems Runt?"

"Put a muzzle on it Yuri!" Audrey snapped, glaring back at the dark furred wolf.

Yuri opened his mouth again, but Ada cut him off.

"Aw stop whinin'!" Ada snorted as Dorian snapped the cuffs in place. "You ain't the one in cuffs iz ya?"

Yuri let out a derisive snort.

"Alright, well Miss Windpaw, you'll have to accompany us down to the station to file a report." Dorian sighed. The Sheriff gave the cuffs a shake to make sure they were firmly in place before signaling Ada to lower her paws. "And you're probably going to need some bail money Ada."

"Ah, I got enough, and old grumpus over here can help me with da extra." Ada said, elbowing Yuri. Yuri let out an annoyed grumble.

"We're going to be down there for hours!" Yuri hissed.

"Well that all depends on how far Miss Windpaw wants to press the issue." Dorian replied.

"Oh I want to see justice done!" Ana said firmly, strutting over to Loupon. "We'll pursue this to the fullest extent! I want maximum damages for what she did to me! To us!" Ana wrapped her paws around Loupon's arm. "Isn't that right Ken?"

Much to Vernon's surprise, the large wolf responded to Ana's action with a glare so sharp the she-wolf immediately withdrew her paws.

"You can do whatever you want Ana, but I'm considering this matter dealt with."

"What!?" Ana whimpered, the she-wolf stammered, gesturing over to Ada weakly. Ana's eyes were large and pleading, simply begging for Loupon to back her up.

"You've already put me in a terrible position as it is." The wolf's voice dropped as he continued to glower at her. "All you have done is drag me from one scandal to another the entire day. The wolf let out in a whispered hiss. " You're fighting this one alone my Dear."

The crowd had mostly dissipated now, leaving just a few stragglers who had been slow to heed Dorian's orders. Ken turned away from Ana, taking a few steps away only for the she-wolf to chase him.

"B-But Ken!" Ana protested.

"When you are done at the station my limo will pick you up." Kendrick added, his back remaining turned away from the wolfess. "And when you get home we are going to have a long discussion about the nature of our relationship."

With that Loupon joined the rest of the dying mob in their journey away from the scene of the standoff. The wolf didn't look back as Ana dropped to her knees, crumpled and dejected. For a few moments she simply stood motionless, watching the large wolf disappear into the throngs of fair-goers until he was out of sight. It was only when Dorian grabbed her attention again did the wolf move at all.

"Miss Windpaw, we should probably get moving." Dorian said.

Vernon watched the wolfess slowly rise to her feet. She took slow deliberate steps toward the white wolf, her head remaining downturned the entire time. Once at his side, the she-wolf remained silent, still looking at the dirt below her feet.

"W-Well....I.." Ruddy piped up. "I-It seems like y-you have everything under c-control here Sheriff Hunter."

The stout ram turned his attention back to the family food stall. He looked disappointed, as far as Vernon could tell. Vernon's Mother was already in the midst of packing up various implements in preparations for leaving the stall. The she-wolf gathered a clump of spoons and pie spreaders before slamming them into the nearest box without care. It was clear in her actions that the wolfess was broiling under the surface. Most mammals would have known better than to try to talk to Audrey when she was like that, but apparently Ruddy wasn't one of them. The little Ram cleared his throat in a deliberate attempt to draw her attention. After the first try failed, he tried again only to receive a glare from the wolfess. Still he pressed on.

"M-Mrs. Hunter..." He stuttered. "I a-am terribly s-so-"

The she wolf let out a snarl as she stared the little ram down, causing him to once again shrink into his suit.

"I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT DAMON!" Audrey growled.

"B-Bu-Bu" Ruddy protested weakly.

Audrey stabbed a claw at the diminutive ram. "Damon, If I don't ever see ya'll again until next years fair it'll be to soon! GET ME!?"

The look on the ram's face was one of sullen resignation, mixed with deep shame. Vernon watched the ram deflate as he turned to walk away from the stand. He had only made it three or four steps away in his miserable trudge before glancing back and the fuming she-wolf. "I-I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive m-me one day Misses Hunter."

With that, the ram turned his back toward his exit. As he neared Dorian, the larger wolf stopped him with a paw, drawing his attetnion upward.

"Officer?" He asked in a bleak tone.

"Damon, next time a situation like this comes up, let me handle it alright?" Dorian asked. "Last thing we need is you makin' a situation worse by trying to handle it yerself. Ya nearly caused a damn riot!"

The ram gave a weak nod, shame still lacing his features.

"Yes Dorian, I'm so sorry for this...for everything." The ram sighed.

Dorian removed his paw, and the defeated ram continued his trudge away from the stand. It was a slow, methodical walk of shame that kept the ram lingering in sight. All the while Audrey continued to glare at the pathetic mammal, and when he was finally gone the livid she-wolf only turned the focus of her ire to the other source.

"AND YOU DORI!" Audrey sneered. "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!? HUH!?"

The Sheriff let out annoyed grumble.

"I'm doin' my job." He replied.

"If you was doin' yer job you would have NEVER let somethin' like what just went on STAND!" Audrey persisted. "Y-You woulda-!"

"WHAT would I have done AUDDY!?" Dorian snapped back. "Just LET ya'll carry on making a scene like ya'll were!? Let ya make it WORSE!?" Dorian hissed.

"Oh please!" Xavier interjected. "You could have just as easily calmed everyone down and done the right thing Dad!"

"YA'LL ARE ACTING LIKE THIS IS MY FAULT!" Dorian growled. All the other Hunter's eyes were on him now.

"I didn't stir that mob up!" Dorian protested. "I didn't bring 'em over here!" He continued. "And I certainly wasn't the REASON they showed up!" As the wolf huffed, he glared at Vernon again, making it clear to the wolf that his Father's last statement was directed at him. Vernon growled as he continued to comfort his Honey Lamb.

"I'm only tryin' to keep the peace here! To salvage what I can of this mess ya'll made!" Dorian huffed. "Is this the hill ya'll are willin' to die on!? To risk our livelihoods fer!?"

Vernon could see a mix of emotions on the faces of the other members of the Hunter brood. Anger, disgust, disappointment, everyone aside from Yuri wore faces of shame. One by one, Vernon watched his family turn away from Dorian. It started with Audrey, then Malcolm, Qali, and so on, until they had all refused to look at the wolf. Vernon however, kept his eyes fixed on his Father, watching the white wolf grow increasingly incised.

"Ya'll are actin' ridiculous!" Dorian hissed. "I warned ya'll! I TOLD ya'll what was gonna happen! But naw, It's MY fault!" The wolf stamped a paw hard against the earth, letting out a snarl. Vernon watched the wolf huff and puff, trying to calm himself from the frenzy he had whipped himself into. After a few moments of heavy breathing, the wolf let out a disgruntled sigh.

"Alright fine." Dorian muttered, turning his attention to Zach and Vanna who had yet to turn their backs to him. "I'll need ya'll to ride down to the station with me. It'd be faster if-"

"We're off duty Mr. Hunter." Vanna said, crossing her arms.

"You can handle it by yourself Pa." Added Zach with disdain.

Dorian grit his teeth sharply, glaring at the pair.

"Alright..." he muttered, taking off his hat and wiping his forehead before placing it back on. "ALRIGHT FINE!" He yelled.

"DIE on that hill fer all I care!" He hissed. Placing a paw on Ada's shoulder, he began to guide her in the direction of the parking lot, Yuri and Ana close behind.

"Making mountains o' molehills I swear." Vernon could hear him grumble as he passed.

Reaching the edge of the of the path encircling the stall, Dorian turned once more to the Hunter's standing by the stand.

"I'm stayin' out of this from here on out, ya'll got that!?" Dorian hissed. "It's clear I ain't exactly welcome at the reunion anyway. So I might as well stay out of it. Handle everything the way ya'll want, and don't come crying to me when things go wrong next time!" Dorian turned his back to the rest of the Hunters.

"I'll be spendin' the rest of the reunion in my office. So ya'll won't have to be saddled with my presence. I hope ya'll have a fine time." With that, the white wolf continued to guide Ada forward, with Ana and Yuri tailing until they were out of sight.

With the scene dispersed and the mob cleared, an uncomfortable silence hung over the Hunter stall. Vernon traded disappointed glances with the rest of his family members as they slowly broke away one by one, making their way to the back of the stall to help his Mother and Malcolm close up. Xavier, Zach, and Vanna however, approached the wolf and his whimpering lamb.

"You two alright?" Zach asked.

Vernon glanced down at the ewe still weeping quietly into his side, giving her a gentle jostle.

"Mutton Chop?" Vernon cooed.

Dawn pulled her face free from his torso, and Vernon could see the redness around her eyes. The ewe aggressively wiped at the stray tears as if she were trying to hide them.

"I-I'm okay." Dawn stuttered between harsh breaths.

"You ain't okay Darl-."

"I am." Dawn protested, taking a hard sniffle, clearly trying to draw back the tears.

"I-I'm sorry Honey L-"

"No I'm sorry." Dawn replied. The ewe turned her attention to the others now hovering over the pair.

"I'm sorry to everyone, for all of th-"

"Nonsense Darlin'." Audrey tutted from behind the stall. The she-wolf was still packing away supplies. " This one is on Dori and Ruddy, no-one else." The wolfess concluded.

"Bu-."

"Dad was completely in the wrong." Xavier added. "I didn't even think Dad would defend such a thing! I mean look at our family!" Xavier gestured to the mammals around them. "Taking such a stance is a slap in the face to all of us, especially Vanna, Ada, and Qali. I can't believe him!"

Vernon shook his head. "I'm just sorry for dragging all of you into our-"

"Oh don't you dare let Yuri's stupid statements get to you Vernon." Xavier interjected.

"Yeah, you know we don't feel that way about you alright?" Zach added. "You're my brother, our brother." Zach placed a paw on Vernon's shoulder. "And we look out for each other."

"And that goes for our sisters too." Vanna added, flashing Dawn a wide grin. Vernon watched as a weak smile formed on Dawn's muzzle as she let out another sniffle.

"T-thank you all." Dawn said with a whimper." Thank you so much."

"No need to thank us." Audrey added. "We're family, and that's what we do."

Vernon could feel a smile of his own start to form. Watching his family stand up for the couple was enough to make his heart swell with pride and warmth. Even Zach, despite his flub earlier in the morning had stood against Dorian for their sake. They had truly meant what they said, and put themselves on the line for the pair. And for that Vernon felt eternally grateful.

Yet the looming specter of his Father's words hung over his mind. They still had to leave, the entire family, because of himself and his mate. Dorian had ultimately proved to be right, and therefore the wolf could now more firmly believe whatever other assertions he had about Dawn were in the right as well. The possibility of swaying him into favoring Dawn now seemed to be impossible. A goal far beyond Vernon's reach regardless of how much of the family was willing to help. Vernon's smile slowly slunk back into a grimace as the looming hopelessness of the entire situation became more and more apparent.

"Vernon?" Dawn asked. Looking down he could see the concern lacing the ewe's features. "Your ears are all droopy. Are you-?"

"We should probably start packing up." Vernon grumbled, rising to his feet. He wasn't ready to talk, not till they were alone again.

"B-but Puppy-"

Vernon let out a sigh as he crouched back to Dawn's level, wrapping his arms tightly around the ewe as he brought her in for a hug. The wolf squeezed firmly, placing as much reassurance into the gesture as possible. At this point, he needed to hold on just as much as she did.

"I'll talk about it at the picnic okay Darlin'. I promise, I'll tell ya everything." The wolf replied before reluctantly releasing his grip on the lamb.

Dawn gave a meek nod, although he could still sense her worry. He knew that it wasn't going anywhere until he finally spilled his guts about the whole situation. It was time for the wolf to tell her what was really going on in his head, and the plans he had made for the weekend. The time had come to let it all out, to admit defeat and throw in the towel. The weekend was mostly a failure, and the time had come to accept it. Now the wolf only wanted to get through it as quickly as possible, and hope that by some twist of luck or fate, that it really didn't have to come down to his most drastic option. After so many of his family members were willing to embrace Dawn as one of their own, it would be a shame to have to turn his back on all of it.

[pamphletstoinspire]

7 Mysteries of the Faith Unlocked by the Eucharist

In Revelation 5:1-10, St. John describes a seven-sealed scroll that no one could open:

“And I saw in the right hand of him who was seated on the throne a scroll written within and on the back, sealed with seven seals; and I saw a strong angel proclaiming with a loud voice, “Who is worthy to open the scroll and break its seals?” And no one in heaven or on earth or under the earth was able to open the scroll or to look into it, and I wept much that no one was found worthy to open the scroll or to look into it.”

An elder calms John down, saying, “Weep not; lo, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has conquered, so that he can open the scroll and its seven seals.” And it’s here that John sees Christ, “between the throne and the four living creatures and among the elders.”

The context here is deeply liturgical: the four living creatures represent the four Gospels (Rev. 4:6-7), and Christ is surrounded by the elders (presbyters, or priests). Jesus Christ is presented in an almost-paradoxical Eucharistic way: “I saw a Lamb standing, as though it had been slain.” And it’s Christ, presented in this way, that is the key to unlocking the seven seals, and revealing the meaning of the scroll. This is true for virtually every aspect of the Christian life.

Here are seven other areas in which the Eucharist is the “key” to opening up a fuller understanding:

1) The Key to the New Covenant

In theological circles, a lot is said about “covenantal theology,” and Christianity is often referred to as “the New Covenant.” Given this, it’s striking that Christ specifically mentions the New Covenant exactly once in the New Testament, and it’s at the Last Supper.

As He is consecrating the wine into His Blood, He says, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me” (1 Corinthians 11:25; Matthew 26:28; Mark 14:24; Luke 22:20).

So Christ is telling us, if you want to understand the New Covenant, you need to look to the Eucharist. If you’ve got a covenantal theology that isn’t centered around the Eucharist, you’re not getting the full picture.

2) The Key to the Old Covenant

The Old Covenant can be a bit baffling to modern readers: what’s with all of the animal sacrifice and bloodshed? Hebrews 9:18-22 explains:

“Hence even the first covenant was not ratified without blood. For when every commandment of the law had been declared by Moses to all the people, he took the blood of calves and goats, with water and scarlet wool and hyssop, and sprinkled both the book itself and all the people, saying, “This is the blood of the covenant which God commanded you.” And in the same way he sprinkled with the blood both the tent and all the vessels used in worship. Indeed, under the law almost everything is purified with blood, and without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins.”

Listen to how Christ’s words echo, across time and space, in Moses’. And if you go back to the Old Testament passage that Hebrews is referencing, this connection is even more profound (Exodus 24:7-11):

“Then he [Moses] took the book of the covenant, and read it in the hearing of the people; and they said, “All that the Lord has spoken we will do, and we will be obedient.” And Moses took the blood and threw it upon the people, and said, ‘Behold the blood of the covenant which the Lord has made with you in accordance with all these words.’

“Then Moses and Aaron, Nadab, and Abi′hu, and seventy of the elders of Israel went up, and they saw the God of Israel; and there was under his feet as it were a pavement of sapphire stone, like the very heaven for clearness. And he did not lay his hand on the chief men of the people of Israel; they beheld God, and ate and drank.”

The entire passage proceeds liturgically. It begins wiht Scriptural readings, from the book of the covenant. The people then respond with a Creed of sorts, their profession of faith. Then Moses declares the blood of the covenant, parallel to the consecration of the Eucharist. And then it’s time for a Heavenly communion: Moses and the elders behold God, eat and drink.

There’s a principle to bear in mind here: the Old Covenant pre-figurements are always inferior to the New Covenant fulfillment's. The foreshadowing is never as awesome as the thing being foreshadowed. So the Liturgy that Exodus 24 is prefiguring is more amazing than eating and drinking while seeing the God of Israel.

As it turns out, this is just one of several places in which the Old Testament points us towards the Eucharist. I’ve written on this before, so I’ll just point to a few of the more obvious ones.

The manna in the desert (Exodus 16) points to the Body of Christ. Jesus makes this connection in John 6, in which He claims to be superior to the manna (John 6:49-50), and says, “I am the living bread which came down from heaven; if any one eats of this bread, he will live for ever; and the bread which I shall give for the life of the world is my flesh.” The Our Father, in calling for our “daily bread,” references Christ in this capacity, as our supersubstantial Manna from Heaven.

The water from the rock (Exodus 17) points to the Blood of Christ: St. Paul connects the manna and the water in 1 Corinthians, referring to them as the Jews’ supernatural food and drink (1 Cor. 10:3-4).

The Passover (Exodus 12) points to the Eucharist in perhaps the most obvious way. 1 Corinthians 5:7 describes Christ as “our Paschal Lamb,” who has “been sacrificed.” This sacrifice is inseparable from the Sacrifice of the Mass, instituted at the Last Supper — which, not coincidentally, takes place on Passover (Luke 22:15). Also, the Eucharistic discourse in John 6, referenced above? It takes place at Passover time, as well (John 6:4).

There are several other examples, but as I said, I’ve written on that elsewhere. For now, it suffices to say that you can’t full understand any of the Old Testament passages, or the point of the bloody sacrificial system more broadly, without understanding the Eucharistic Sacrifice.

3) The Key to the Mass

In 1 Corinthians 10, St. Paul draws a three-fold parallel, between the sacrifical systems of the pagans, the Jews, and the Christians (1 Cor. 10:16-22):

“The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ? Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread. Consider the practice of Israel; are not those who eat the sacrifices partners in the altar? What do I imply then? That food offered to idols is anything, or that an idol is anything?

“No, I imply that what pagans sacrifice they offer to demons and not to God. I do not want you to be partners with demons. You cannot drink the cup of the Lord and the cup of demons. You cannot partake of the table of the Lord and the table of demons. Shall we provoke the Lord to jealousy? Are we stronger than he?”

Start with the pagans. They have sacrifices to demons, at the altar, which Paul describes as “the table of demons.” They then eat and drink these sacrifices. Paul describes their sacrificial libation as “the cup of demons.” In eating the sacrifice, they become “partners with demons.”

Compare this with the Jews of Israel. Their priests also sacrifice at the altar, but to God, rather than to demons. And as Paul notes, the people participate in the sacrifice by eating it: “are not those who eat the sacrifices partners in the altar?”

Now look at Christianity. Our priests also sacrifice at the altar, which Paul describes as “the table of the Lord.” We then eat and drink these sacrifices. Paul describes the Blood of Christ, our sacrificial libation, as “the Cup of the Lord,” and — in a nod to the Passover, as “the Cup of Blessing.” And it’s in eating and drinking this Eucharistic Sacrifice that we participate in Christ’s Body and Blood, and in His Sacrifice. If you don’t have these sacrificial, Eucharistic elements in your understanding of Christianity, this whole parallel breaks down. This is why the Catechism can say that:

“The Eucharist is ‘the source and summit of the Christian life.’ ‘The other sacraments, and indeed all ecclesiastical ministries and works of the apostolate, are bound up with the Eucharist and are oriented toward it. For in the blessed Eucharist is contained the whole spiritual good of the Church, namely Christ himself, our Pasch.'”

This is central to understanding the Mass and the Divine Liturgy and any of the early Christian liturgies. For example, the Liturgy of St. James is believed to be the oldest continually-used Liturgy. The Cherubic Hymn, a part of the Liturgy that was probably present from the early 300s, beautifully expresses this centrality of the Eucharist:

“Let all mortal flesh be silent, and stand with fear and trembling, and meditate nothing earthly within itself:— For the King of kings and Lord of lords, Christ our God, comes forward to be sacrificed, and to be given for food to the faithful; and the bands of angels go before Him with every power and dominion, the many-eyed cherubim, and the six-winged seraphim, covering their faces, and crying aloud the hymn, Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia.”

It’s painting a picture of the Divine Liturgy as an earthly manifestation of the Heavenly Liturgy we see laid out in the Book of Revelation. And at the heart of this Liturgy, is Christ’s self-offering, given to us in the Eucharist. And it’s this that explains the paradox of the Lamb standing as though slain. We don’t expect a slain lamb to be standing: we expect it to be lying down, dead and defeated:

But Christ’s self-Sacrifice is His victory, not His defeat: “and I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all men to myself” (John 12:32). He isn’t just the victim: He’s also the priest. At the Heavenly banquet, He is both host and Host. St. John Chrysostom captures this Heavenly dimension, in On the Priesthood (c. 387 A.D.):

“For when you see the Lord sacrificed, and laid upon the altar, and the priest standing and praying over the victim, and all the worshippers empurpled with that precious blood, can you then think that you are still among men, and standing upon the earth? Are you not, on the contrary, straightway translated to Heaven, and casting out every carnal thought from the soul, do you not with disembodied spirit and pure reason contemplate the things which are in Heaven?

“Oh! What a marvel! What love of God to man! He who sits on high with the Father is at that hour held in the hands of all, and gives Himself to those who are willing to embrace and grasp Him. And this all do through the eyes of faith! Do these things seem to you fit to be despised, or such as to make it possible for any one to be uplifted against them?”

4) Key to Early Christianity

The Eucharist wasn’t just key to the Liturgy of the early Christians, it was key to their entire lives, and to their Church. We see this extremely early on. St. Ignatius of Antioch, a student of the Apostle John’s, writing c. 107 A.D., uses the Gnostics’ denial of the Real Presence as proof that they didn’t belong in the Church:

“They [the Gnostics] abstain from the Eucharist and from prayer, because they confess not the Eucharist to be the flesh of our Saviour Jesus Christ, which suffered for our sins, and which the Father, of His goodness, raised up again. Those, therefore, who speak against this gift of God, incur death in the midst of their disputes.

“But it were better for them to treat it with respect, that they also might rise again. It is fitting, therefore, that ye should keep aloof from such persons, and not to speak of them either in private or in public, but to give heed to the prophets, and above all, to the Gospel, in which the passion [of Christ] has been revealed to us, and the resurrection has been fully proved. But avoid all divisions, as the beginning of evils.”

Ignatius isn’t trying to convince his readers that the Eucharist really is the Flesh and Blood of Jesus Christ. He knows that they know that. Instead, he’s telling the Church that, since the Gnostics don’t affirm this belief, we can’t be in communion with them. He also describes their denial of the Eucharist as a cause of their spiritual death, and says it would be better if they repented, that they might rise again.

In 180 A.D., we see St. Irenaeus of Lyons make a very similar argument. (By way of reference, the first recorded use of “Trinity” to describe the Godhead is 181 A.D., so we’re still talking quite early in Christian history). Irenaeus is responding to those who deny the bodily resurrection of Christians at the end of time. He disproves their view, by showing that it’s incompatible with the Real Presence of the Eucharist:

“Then, again, how can they say that the flesh, which is nourished with the body of the Lord and with His blood, goes to corruption, and does not partake of life? Let them, therefore, either alter their opinion, or cease from offering the things just mentioned. But our opinion is in accordance with the Eucharist, and the Eucharist in turn establishes our opinion.

“For we offer to Him His own, announcing consistently the fellowship and union of the flesh and Spirit. For asthe bread, which is produced from the earth, when it receives the invocation of God, is no longer common bread, but the Eucharist, consisting of two realities, earthly and heavenly; so also our bodies, when they receive the Eucharist, are no longer corruptible, having the hope of the resurrection to eternity.”

In other words, the Eucharist is a communion with Jesus Christ, Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity. And we commune with Him both spiritually and physically. Because our bodies receive the God-Man Jesus Christ, we can be assured that our bodies won’t be simply discarded at the end of our lives.

Rather, as Christ says, “he who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day” (John 6:54). What’s striking is that Irenaeus’ belief in the General Resurrection is, by his own admission, rooted in his belief in the Real Presence. It’s the heart of his theology, and it’s the key to understanding the beliefs of the early Christians.

To see what happens when someone doesn’t have this key, look to Minucius Felix’s Octavius (written c. 150-270 A.D.) Here, we find a Roman objection to Christianity rooted in a bizarre misunderstanding of the Eucharist:

“Now the story about the initiation of young novices is as much to be detested as it is well known. An infant covered over with meal, that it may deceive the unwary, is placed before him who is to be stained with their rites: this infant is slain by the young pupil, who has been urged on as if to harmless blows on the surface of the meal, with dark and secret wounds. Thirstily – O horror! they lick up its blood; eagerly they divide its limbs. By this victim they are pledged together; with this consciousness of wickedness they are covenanted to mutual silence.”

The Romans are well aware that the Christ child is central to Christianity, and that there’s something about eating flesh and blood under the appearances of bread. But they’ve (intentionally or mistakenly) misunderstood it in the most barbaric, cannibalistic way imaginable.

If your Christianity isn’t capable of being misunderstood in this way, it’s not the same faith practiced by the early Christians.

5) The Key to the Church

Returning to 1 Corinthians 10, recall how St. Paul says, “Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread” (1 Cor. 10:17). The order of causality is important there. Sometimes, people think that we have Communion to celebrate the fact that we’re one. Because we’re one, we share the same Eucharist. But no, St. Paul says the opposite: because we share the same Eucharist, we are one Body. In this view, our union as Church isn’t just celebrated by the Eucharist; in a very real way, it’s caused by the Eucharist.

Our ecclesial communion is rooted in Sacramental Communion. The Mystical Body of Christ, the Church (Ephesians 5:23) is grounded in the Sacramental Body of Christ, the Eucharist. Indeed, this is why the Church is called the Mystical Body of Christ: it’s rooted in the great sacramental Mystery.

Keep that in mind when you encounter Scriptures like “Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her, that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, that he might present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish” (Ephesians 5:25-27).

The Church at the heart of the mystery of salvation is rooted in the Eucharist.

6) Key to the Lives of the Saints

There are a few senses in which we can see the centrality of the Eucharist for the lives of the Saints. The most obvious examples are those Christians who put their lives on the line to preserve the Blessed Sacrament. St. Ambrose (340-397) tells the story of his late brother Satyrus, who risked drowning to protect the Eucharist after a shipwreck:

“He, before being initiated in the more perfect mysteries, being in danger of shipwreck when the ship that bore him, dashed upon rocky shallows, was being broken up by the waves tossing it hither and there, fearing not death but lest he should depart this life without the Mystery, asked of those whom he knew to be initiated the divine Sacrament of the faithful; not that he might gaze on secret things with curious eyes, but to obtain aid for his faith.

“For he caused it to be bound in a napkin, and the napkin round his neck, and so cast himself into the sea, not seeking a plank loosened from the framework of the ship, by floating on which he might be rescued, for he sought the means of faith alone. And so believing that he was sufficiently protected and defended by this, he sought no other aid.”

Or take the example of Tarcisius, a twelve year-old boy from the third century. He was an acolyte, and was carrying the Eucharist to the sick, when he was harassed by a group of pagan boys. When he refused to give them the Sacrament, they beat him to death. A poem commemorating him, written by Pope Damasus I, recalls that “When an insane gang pressed saintly Tarsicius, who was carrying the sacraments of Christ, to display them to the profane, he preferred to be killed and give up his life rather than betray to rabid dogs the heavenly body.”

But there are other Saints, perhaps less obvious, whose very lives become Eucharistic, leading them to pour themselves out. You’ve got St. Paul, who says, “Even if I am to be poured as a libation upon the sacrificial offering of your faith, I am glad and rejoice with you all” (Philippians 2:17), and “For I am already on the point of being sacrificed; the time of my departure has come” (2 Timothy 4:6). Literally, that second passage reads, “I am already on the point of being poured out in sacrifice.”

Compare these declarations to the words of Jesus Christ at the Last Supper, “This is My Blood of the New Covenant, which is poured out for many” (Mark 14:24). Likewise, St. Ignatius, writing to the Romans en route to being martyred there, says, “I am the wheat of God, and let me be ground by the teeth of the wild beasts, that I may be found the pure bread of Christ.”

St. Augustine views St. Lawrence the same way:

“The Roman Church commends this day to us as the blessed Laurence’s day of triumph, on which he trod down the world as it roared and raged against him; spurned it as it coaxed and wheedled him; and in each case, conquered the devil as he persecuted him. For in that Church, you see, as you have regularly been told, he performed the office of deacon; it was there that he administered the sacred chalice of Christ’s blood; there that he shed his own blood for the name of Christ. The blessed apostle John clearly explained the mystery of the Lord’s supper when he said Just as Christ laid down his life for us, so we too ought to lay down our lives for the brethren. St Laurence understood this, my brethren, and he did it; and he undoubtedly prepared things similar to what he received at that table. He loved Christ in his life, he imitated him in his death.”

7) The Key to Your Own Spiritual Life

Each of the Eucharistic Saints I mentioned in the last section risked their lives for the Blessed Sacrament. But in his sermon on St. Lawrence, Augustine is quick to note that “not only the roses of martyrs but also the lilies of virgins, and the ivy of married people, and the violets of widows. There is absolutely no kind of human beings, my dearly beloved, who need to despair of their vocation; Christ suffered for all.”

And Mother Teresa’s advice to priests is applicable, in a broader sense, to all of us:

“By your life woven with the Eucharist, God’s love in Jesus, hidden under the humble appearances of bread and wine, can be lived in all its greatness and beauty in the humble events of daily life. You must continue your Mass after its daily celebration during the Liturgy, by your sincere fidelity to the little moment-to-moment things of life. Like the drops of oil that feed the sanctuary lamp which burns continually near the living Jesus in the tabernacle, your life must continue as a living extension of the Eucharist that you offer. With this Bread you must be broken for many, with this Cup your life must be poured out. Charity is love in action.”

St. Josemaria gives some concrete advice for keeping the Eucharist at the center of our lives: to spend time, both inside and outside of Mass, in front of the Blessed Sacrament:

“I cannot see how anyone could live as a Christian and not feel the need for the constant friendship of Jesus in the word and in the bread, in prayer and in the Eucharist. And I easily understand the ways in which successive generations of faithful have expressed their love for the Eucharist, both with public devotions making profession of the faith and with silent, simple practices in the peace of a church or the intimacy of their hearts.

“The important thing is that we should love the Mass and make it the centre of our day. If we attend Mass well, surely we are likely to think about our Lord during the rest of the day, wanting to be always in his presence, ready to work as he worked and love as he loved. And so we learn to thank our Lord for his kindness in not limiting his presence to the time of the sacrifice of the altar. He has decided to stay with us in the host which is reserved in the tabernacle.

“For me the tabernacle has always been a Bethany, a quiet and pleasant place where Christ resides. A place where we can tell him about our worries, our sufferings, our desires, our joys, with the same sort of simplicity and naturalness as Martha, Mary and Lazarus. That is why I rejoice when I stumble upon a church in town or in the country; it’s another tabernacle, another opportunity for the soul to escape and join in intention our Lord in the Sacrament.”

This is the Eucharistic faith proclaimed by Christ, by the Old and New Testament, by the Saints, by the Divine Liturgy, and by the Church throughout the ages. Getting the most out of Christianity requires a deep understanding of this Mystery.

[hey-i-wrote-a-story]

Chapter 23 The Unspoken

           Everyone knew it was going to be bad, but there was still a small glimmer of hope that it wouldn’t be this bad. No one knew quite what to say. No one except Stiles, that is.

           “Why does it always have to be a creature of destruction, or wrath, or evil? Why can’t we just once face an entity whose purpose is to deliver edible bouquets?”

           Unable to find anything humorous about the situation, Mrs. Yukimura proceeded as if she had not heard him. “There is more. Besides being known as a creature of destruction, this monster has also been called the Ravager and Enslaver.”

           “Enslaver?”, Scott asked. “How does that work?”

           Mrs. Yukimura began to turn the delicate pages of the small book. “Several of the monsters remain a mystery, and have for millennia. Only a handful have purposes and behavior that is known. One of these is the Enslaver.” She paused at a page that was alive with tiny colored drawings. The style was incredibly old and minimalist, and the linework delicate and beautiful. The images the drawings depicted were considerably less so. “One of the only recorded times that this member of their…family was brought to earth was during the 14th Century.” She again turned the book for everyone to see. The story the images told showed knights of old, covered in chain mail, draped under cloth vestments, carrying banners emblazoned with a large red cross.

           “The Crusades”, Scott said. Then to Mrs. Yukimura, he added, “We studied some of this time period in school.”

           “But not this part, I would imagine.” She slid her finger further down the page to show figures in brown robes calling up a large orange dragon. “Some of the clergy of the time were foolish enough to think that ancient writings they had confiscated during their plundering could be used to recruit a powerful ally to their cause. They found out too late that they were sorely mistaken.” She pointed to the next drawing, as the simple figures in the brown robes were being torn to shreds by the monster. In the next, the winged monster was flying with wings spread wide, a bolt of lightning nearby. “Once it was freed from whatever realm had held it, this creature found a legion of knights of which it could make use.”

           “Make use how?”, Scott asked.

           She turned the page and showed the next drawing, of the bright orange creature with its fanged mouth open, and what looked like a river of stars spilling from its jaw onto frightened and fleeing knights. “The Monster of Destruction can expel a shower of spores, thistles, use whatever term you like, down upon its prey.” Below that drawing was another, with some knights, now covered in the tiny stars, eyes empty orbs, setting upon their brethren and killing anyone in their path. “The spores are too strong to be withstood by bare flesh alone. The person so inflicted would die horribly. As, they found, with the old and the weak. At the edge of the drawing, a naked man and an old woman were half-melted into the ground, their bodies aflame.

           “Oh my God”, Lydia whispered.

           “But The Enslaver found that its spores could cling to the sturdier vestments and armor of the knights, controlling them long enough to send them out as his heralds of destruction, ravaging the land and, where possible, spreading his spores to enslave others.” Another drawing showed the glowing knights moving along robotically, in a unified line, trampling civilians and spreading the tiny stars among their fellow knights. “Even at that, the knights could only last so long before the controlling energies consumed them as well.” The next illustration showed the once-valiant knights dying together, screaming as their armor, now ablaze, melted into the ground, taking their bodies with it. The following page showed the largest drawing, with the Enslaver soaring above a crowd of the dead and dying, his blank-eyed, glowing minions on the march.

           “Holy…”, Stiles said under his breath. He could think of nothing funny to say now.

           Mrs. Yukimura turned the next page. There was nothing on it. The page was blank.

           “That’s it?”, Scott asked. “There’s nothing else?”

           Deaton asked, “Mrs. Yukimura, how was the entity finally sent back? What was used to banish it?”

           “This I do not know. It is safe to say that no one living does.”

           “How could it just end there?”, Stiles said. “Why do we have this much story but no more?”

           “Because at that point, Stiles”, Mrs. Yukimura said, “There was no one left alive to tell it. We are lucky to have recovered this much.” A feeling of despair was rising in the room, which Kira’s mother was not about to let continue. “We do know this much”, she added, turning to a page toward the back of the ancient book, “there is one method that is believed to be effective in returning one of the family of monsters to its prison realm.”

           “Great!”, Stiles said quickly. “Let’s do that. What is it, what do we need?”

           “It would require a sacrifice”, she answered

           There was another moment’s silence. This was not what they wanted to hear.

           “This wouldn’t happen to be a livestock kind of sacrifice, would it?”, Stiles asked. “Little lamb, a big cow, a goat?”  Mrs. Yukimura shook her head.

           “We’re not going to resort to that”, Scott said firmly. “We’ll find another way.” His friends looked at him doubtfully. “That’s what we do”, he stressed. “We come up with a plan. We find another way.” Stiles and Lydia nodded, completely lacking Scott’s confidence.  

           “Then our path is clear”, Deaton announced. “We do all that we can; research, investigating, guarding others against further attacks. There’s a lot more we have available to us today than the crusaders had, or even the people of 1927. I’m not just talking about advanced forms of weaponry, either.” He looked at those before him, the young detective, the banshee, the ageless teacher, the kitsune, and the True Alpha werewolf. They understood what he meant. They were the greatest weapon that they had.

“As much as we may want to keep our new friends in a warded building”, Deaton went on, “I suspect the young people in the waiting area are badly in need of some sleep.” Scott nodded. Like it or not, Kaitlyn, Freddie, and Aadesh were their responsibility now. He would see them to his home.

           “I’ll help you get them to your place”, Kira said. With all that was happening, she wanted to be near Scott. Kira’s mother had other ideas, and took her gently by the arm.

           “You and I will work together”, she told Kira. “There are things you can do that may be of great help.” Kira started to question that. What could she do? “Things you do not yet know you can do”, her mother stressed. Super power training trumped boyfriend time.

           Kira moved to Scott and gave him a quick kiss. “Be careful. Even though I know the kids are in good hands.”

           “So are you”, Scott said, nodding toward Kira’s mother.

           “That would leave you and I”, Lydia said, addressing Dr. Deaton, “as our official research team. And as much as this is usually the worst thing to say in cases like this, I suggest we split up. I’ll hit the library and you…” her voice trailed off.

           “I have my own sources to look into.”

           “Fair enough. Before long, we should be able to find something that will help us against the…” She stopped, then turned to Mrs. Yukimura as she was leading her daughter out. “How do we refer to this thing, if we can’t even say its name?”, Lydia asked. It was a good question.

           Mrs. Yukimura’s response was better. “These creatures have always been known more by a title than a name. They are called simply The Unspoken.”

           “Makes sense”, Stiles said.

           “Good luck, everyone”, Deaton said. With that, he returned to his books, vials, and jars.

           As the remaining three teens made their way out, a flash of memory came to Lydia. “Wait.” The boys stepped aside as she leaned back into the room. “I remember something from my vision. A sign of some kind. It had letters on it. I think it said “WILLOW”. Does that mean anything to you?”

           “No”, said Deaton. “It doesn’t. But I can look into old street names, place names for markets, that type of thing. It may lead us to something.”

           Lydia, Scott, and Stiles walked into the waiting area to see Malia sitting there, just watching. She was watching Aadesh and Kaitlyn, huddled together, saying nothing. Nearby was Freddie, his knees drawn up onto the chair with his arms around them. His eyes were red and moist from all the tears.

           Scott and Stiles shared a glance. Lydia reached over to Stiles and gave his shoulder a squeeze of support. They had thought the hard part of the evening was fending off the monster. It would seem, however, that the hardest part was yet to come.

[fallen-drow]

1

1: Alpha-gal and who I am Let’s press this bitch. Salutations! My name is Dorothy Jane Oliver-Finnegan and I am currently 26 years-young. Before we get too deep into my life, I want to issue a fair warning. I am blunt and honest. I don’t sugar-coat things because I believe it is a waste of time. I swear like a sailor and may be one of the most sarcastic people you meet. I’ll try to write sarcastic statements in Italics. Writing about me is difficult because I don’t know where to begin. So let’s begin with the basics: the start! “Humble” beginnings, if you will. I lived my first 7 years in Carmel, IN. For those of you not familiar with Carmel, IN: It’s a snobby town. Carmel has more money than it knows what to do with. Well that may not be true; they removed all of the 4-way stop signs and replaced them with roundabouts. Carmel also houses many of the government officials and other important people. For instance – my neighbors in Carmel were Former-Vice President Dan Quail (you know, the potato guy) and Mr. Simon. Mr. Simon owned the Pacers and all of the Simon Malls. But please don’t assume that I grew up wealthy, because I did not grow up with money. My house was a small white ranch, which was falling apart. It was my maternal grandparent’s home and where I spent most of my childhood. When I was 8, we moved to Noblesville, IN. Noblesville was an up and coming area. My mother works for a home-builder and her company built our home. We were the second house built in our subdivision and one of the biggest. The home in Noblesville was like a mansion compared to the home in Carmel. It has three floors, including a full basement. 7 bedrooms, 4 bathrooms, Living, Family, Dining rooms, and a huge kitchen: the house is huge! I stayed in Noblesville until I went to college. I went to Manchester COLLEGE. They can call in a University all they want, but it will always be MC for me. I graduated in three years with a degree in Sociology with a concentration in Criminal Justice and a minor in Psychology. MC is in North Manchester, IN – which is 40 minutes southwest of Fort Wayne, IN. I lived there for 2 years after I graduated with my partner. Then we moved down to Spencer, IN. Spencer is 30 minutes northwest of Bloomington, IN. Currently, I live on 10 acres of wooded wonderland. I love the location of my current home and plan to live there until I’m an old lady. We currently have 20+ chickens, 4 dogs, 4 cats, and 1 fish. It’s my personal paradise. Other basic information: Height: 5’7 ½” Weight: Yeah right Favorites: Color: Royal Purple/Black Animal: Crow Food: Sushi Song: Mad World Past time: Sims 3, drawing, and gardening Show to watch: Reality/Game Shows Hair color: Naturally Brown, but I dye it often Eye color: Hazel – blue/green Okay, enough of that. Let’s talk about Galactose-alpha-1,3-galactose, or Alpha-gal. You can always Google what it means but basically: I’m allergic to ALL red meats. It can also be called Mammalian Meat Allergy (MMA). People with MMA have and overload of immunoglobulin E or IgE. That’s a big word. Let’s break it down. Any immunoglobulin is an anti-body. Immunoglobulin E is ONLY found in mammals. IgE is normally the lowest anti-body in your system, but it is responsible for the most intense reactions (hives, anaphylactic shock, etc.). So my blood is over-flowing with IgE and because of this I cannot eat red meat. IgE attacks the protein in the red meat and causes me to have severe allergic reactions. I’ll share some of my experiences later. What classifies as a red meat? Well just about everything besides poultry and fish. It does include: beef, pork, and any wild game. Pork is NOT the other white meat. I cannot have: steak, bacon, deer, rabbit, lamb, goat, and much more. But it’s not just red meat. It’s everything associated with red meat animals. I cannot have dairy either if it comes from a cow. No cheese, sour cream, cream cheese, buttercream frosting, caramel, ice cream, etc. Also most people allergic to pork are allergic to cats. Remember that I have four cats and four dogs? Well now, I’m allergic to them. My eyes itch and swell shut. I was playing with a kitten, and she licked my hand and scratched me: my whole hand, wrist, and forearm broke out in hives. When I tell people this, the normal reaction is: “Oh man that sucks!” or “No BACCON!?!?” For me it isn’t all that bad. When I was in college, I was vegan. It wasn’t until I hooked up with my wife that I started eating dairy and meat again. She got me with smoked Gouda. So I figured I’d go back to being vegan. Well, it’s not so easy when your best friend makes the MOST AMAZING smoked pork shoulder. Not to mention, we just bought a farm. We were going to get pigs and other animals for food. Now we have 10 beautiful acres, and no need to farm animals. The second question I get is how I knew to be tested for MMA. Well it all started when we moved down here. My wife and I are research fanatics. If we see something we don’t understand or don’t know. We’ll spend an entire day researching the topic and share what we have found with each other. This happened with ticks. When we bought our property, we went hiking and of course found a few ticks on us because we live in deer country. Then it was on like Donkey Kong. My wife and I spent hours and days researching ticks and the different types of ticks that live in our area. One of my wife’s good friends has Lyme disease. She lives in southern Indiana. So we wanted to protect ourselves. I found a red tick with a white dot on me. It wasn’t attached and I pulled it from my pants to look closer at it. I though the tick was oddly colored for being in the woods. Red would be an easy color for predators to find amongst all of the browns and greens. So I researched this little fella. Turns out it was a Lone Star Tick. Again you could Google all about this tick, but I’ll sum it up for you. Lone Star Ticks originated in Texas, but have migrated up the Mississippi River and are now in Indiana and the Midwest region of the United States. They do not transmit Lyme disease, but they transmit MMA. I thought this was interesting and remember it. Ya know, for Jeopardy or Trivial Pursuit. And then something happened. The wife and I still have a home in North Manchester that we want to sell. So we went up there to get some things from the house. On the road, we stopped at a McDonald’s for some food. I don’t remember what I got, but I know it was probably a hamburger. A few hours after I ate it, I experienced the worst heart-burn ever. I thought I might be having a heart attack it was so painful. The pain lasted the rest of the night and I felt I couldn’t move. The next day, I assumed that the McDonald’s we went to had bad patties or something else made me sick. A few months later, we were at a friend’s house. She made tri-tip steak on the grill. It was delicious. A few hours later, we were sitting on their back deck and I noticed that I was covered in hives. I was itchy, struggled to breath, and continued to form more and more hives. My friend decided that she was going to “fix” me with a lot of apple crown and anti-itch lotion. Well, I could no longer feel my face, so it worked! I didn’t know what was happening. Later that night, I woke up in a panic because I couldn’t breathe. My wife stated that if I got worse she would take me to the ER. The next day, I was fine. Like nothing happened. I stopped eating ground beef after that, because it seemed that everything was revolving around ground beef. I continued on. I ate steak, but I cut all of the fat off because I was concerned that I was allergic to beef fat. I had no reactions. Then on September 24, 2016, I; my wife; and my mother went out to a restaurant and I ordered prime rib – rare. It was so good… We went home and I noticed that I had heart burn again. I blamed it on the horseradish. Then, I was covered in hives. I felt so sick. I couldn’t move. I scared my mom. She tried to do everything to make me better, but nothing was working. I then decided no beef at all. When I was vegan, one of my favorite snacks was/is Oreos. I love them. And like most people, I had a glass of milk. When I finished my Oreos, I drank my milk. Almost instantly, I started coughing. I could feel my throat closing. I was scared. Then I was covered in hives. More hives than ever before. I was one giant hive. I even had hives between my toes and in my mouth. I looked over to my wife for help. She didn’t know what to do. She fed me Benadryl and we went to bed. I remember struggling to breathe and thinking that I was going to die, but I didn’t want to scare my wife so I laid in silence. When I woke up the next day, I was sore and still covered in hives. It took me two days to recover. That’s when I made the appointment with the allergist. My tests came back positive for alpha-gal. My allergist was surprised that I knew what to look for and asked her to test me for something specific. Research does pay off. My allergist stated there are less than 3,000 reported cases in the United States of MMA. When I first discovered that I had this allergy, I was in shock. Then shock turned into anger and then sadness. I felt depressed. I love steak. I love prime rib. I love pork. I dislike chicken and turkey. I “like” fish. What was I going to do? My wife does not have MMA. She can eat whatever she wants. And I want her too. When we go out, she constantly apologizes for getting a steak, while I’m eating plain pasta. But she doesn’t have to suffer because I can’t eat what she can. I felt alone. Less than 3,000 people have this allergy. There is an online chat group, but it’s not something that helps me. I know what I can and cannot have. The people online just warn others about the dangers of soy intake and other issues that pop up. There is no cure. This allergy will last a life time. I will never “get better”. I have enough to worry about besides the fact that if I take in too much soy, I’m going to get ovarian cancer or breast cancer. My life will never be the same. But I’m optimistic. I’m hopeful. Nothing is doom and gloom. It’s gonna be okay. This is my journey with alpha-gal.