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Darwin's Legacy

Chapter 19 - The End of Time - Pt II

"-it"

Roark looked at Crusher, who had added the colourful expletive. He was surprised to see that the doberman has stuck around after his mistress had been killed. Most of the rest of her troops had dropped their weapons and scattered when she started the timer on the bomb. Then he looked around at the others. Kaplan, Rock and Nolan were still there, but the rest of the southerners that had helped them haul the bomb up had left. Silver Tip, Aster, Annie and Dead Eye had stayed, as had Dylan, Darwin, Snowdrop and the three humans. And the foxes surrounding them were mostly still there. He looked at the bomb. The display was blinking "0:00" insistently, but nothing else was happening.

"Hey." Dylan said. "We're still here." He ran over to where the others were gathered around Snowdrop. He picked up Annie and spun her around. "It didn't go off."

"That's what we were trying to tell this stripped oaf here." Ray poked Kaplan in the shoulder. "We disarmed them hundreds of years ago." Kaplan raised his paw to swipe at the scientist but a dozen hastily aimed crossbows convinced him to lower it again.

"Disarmed them?" Nolan looked confused. "How could you disarm them? The documents we found said that they were designed not to be tampered with."

"Well, it helps when one of the last people alive was the one that designed them." Tom said. "Renaud knew every trap and bypass in the system."

"But you three are biologists. You aren't fizzy-, physic-, mechanically inclined." Dylan pointed out.

"That is true." George admitted.

"But we are not without certain skills." Ray added.

"If you can use a sub-cellular gene splicer you can use a screwdriver." Tom said.

"And Renaud made copious notes." George concluded. "We just followed his instructions."

"Their payloads are still radioactive, but the worst that can happen with them now is that you might drop one and split the casing, giving yourself a bad case of radiation sickness." Tom explained.

Ray shrugged. "That could affect your genes and cause mutations. What? Why is everyone laughing?"

Roark suppressed a grin. "Why did you decide to disarm them?"

"It was around the time of the first King." George began.

"He was as bad as this one." Tom pointed to where Diego lay. "Always goading his subjects into attacking when he knew our defences would cut them down. His son finally overthrew him before he ran out of subjects, but if he had persisted we would have eventually run out of ammunition, and then ..."

"We would not want one of these falling into his hands, er, paws." Ray explained.

"Were you sure you could do it?" Annie asked.

Tom shrugged. "Not entirely, but after fifteen hundred years of chicken and beans we figured, what the hell."

Silver Tip frowned. "But if you made a mistake it would have split the earth open and doomed every living thing the known world!"

"Oh, no." George assured him. "The safeguards were built to protect the design from falling into foreign hands, not to prevent them from going off. Tampering with one would only set of a sub-atomic reaction that would fizzle from a lack of free protons. The worst that could happen was that it would turn this mountain into a glowing lake of radioactive molten rock, maybe, I don't know, what do think Ray? Maybe a mile across?"

"Half a mile, tops."

"Relatively harmless." Silver Tip said dryly.

"Relatively, yes."

"But what about the vibration detectors?" Nolan said adamantly. "How did you defeat them?"

Dylan ignored the three-way argument that ensued between the wart hog, Ray and Tom to concentrate on Annie, who was hugging him tightly. "Did you say that you loved me?" He asked, lifting her chin with his paw so he could look in her eyes as she answered.

She smiled at his anxious expression. "I did, because it's true."

"You don't know how happy that makes me feel."

"Oh yes, I do. As happy as I feel to have finally found you safe and sound." She buried her head against his chest. "At first, I was so worried that you were gone forever, but in the winter campgrounds I met a strange old vixen who set my heart at ease. She told me that we would be together at the end of my journey, and here we are."

Dylan frowned. He had spent some time with the old vixen in the caravan, learning fox lore from her. But she was always elusive on the subject of her divinations. The foxes regarded her predictions with equal parts fear and respect. "She is a mysterious one, that Star Gazer, and her meaning is not always obvious. Did she say anything else?"

"That you will love me until the end of time."

"Humph, that one was easy enough. I'm sure I never shut up about you the whole time I was with Silver Tip's caravan."

"I can vouch for that." Roark interrupted. Annie released Dylan and gave Roark a hug that was almost as tight as the one she had given Dylan, but not quite.

"I've missed you, Annie."

"You too Ro-Ack."

"I'm called Roark now. And Heg is known as Dylan."

"So I've heard. Heroes of the caravan both of you." She drew Dylan into a group hug. "It's fitting, new names for a new life, and yet they are not so different from your old titles." She looked back and forth between her two old friends. "You two have not changed, it's just the circumstances that surround you that are different."

"Annie, who is that little fellow who is looking all heartbroken at the three of us?"

"Oh, Dylan, don't sound jealous. Come let me introduce you to the fox that saved me and helped me find you. His name is Tig." Annie led Dylan by the paw toward the group surrounding Snowdrop.

Roark walked over to Silver Tip and asked: "What do we do now?"

"Now we start negotiation the peace." The old fox looked around the plain. "If we can find someone to negotiate with. I am afraid most of the other leaders died without naming their replacements."

"The southern species have individual leaders, even the lions had a senior lion below the King; Barons they called them." Roark informed him before looking over to where Nolan, Rock and Kaplan stood. "I'm sure our three friends here will be happy to point them out for us."

"And Aster can speak for the felines and canines." Silver Tip mused. "The coyotes never did have any leaders, save for following this Ang-Ro character. But what about the wolves? Must we locate all the old pack leaders before we can begin discussions?"

Dylan called over before Roark could answer. "Actually, Roark is now the leader of the wolves, as well as the southerners."

Roark was as surprised as Silver Tip at the announcement. "What? How do you figure that?"

"Ro-Da killed Diego and Ang-Ro," Dylan pointed out, "and no one challenged her claim as leader of the two alliances. You defeated her in fair combat, so you are now the leader. At least until someone challenges you for the job."

"They can have it. I think it is time we made some new rules about how leaders are chosen and what powers they yield." Roark said seriously.

"Yes." Silver Tip agreed. "Leadership is more about responsibility than power ... or should be. It will be up to you to decide what is best for the wolves, but as for the southerners, I think that a corporate structure, like ours, would benefit them."

"I've been reading about a concept called 'democracy' that sounds interesting." Nolan offered from where he Kaplan and Rock were being held nearby.

"Have you ever read about trails for those who peddle flesh or torture?" Roark asked the wart hog in an icy tone.

"Yeah, you tell him boss wolf." The big doberman that had first introduced them to Darwin came over and slapped Roark on the back. Roark did not budge, or even sway at the impact, which made Crusher frown momentarily. But in an instant his grin was back. "You remember me, right? Darwin's friend from the village? Crusher! Look, you need some troops to keep these three in line until the trial you just call on me. Me and the boys'll lay a beating on them if they so much as look at you the wrong way. Hey! What do you say we slap 'em in chains and go get ourselves a beer, eh?"

"You will be the one in chains." The leader of the foxes addressed the big doberman angrily. "Every deserter we questioned told of the deprivations of the 'devil's battalion' lead by a canine named Crusher. You have much to answer for." He signalled his troops. "Take this one into custody."

The dog snarled, jumped back and pulled the heavy crossbow off his back before the foxes could grab him, the one he had used to kill the cat that dared to surrender. The string was already cocked and ready, and he nocked a razor-tipped bolt into the slot before anyone could stop him. He held it easily with one paw, aimed dead at the centre of Silver Tip's chest. The mechanism creaked as he squeezed the trigger just shy of the point of firing and held it there.

"You are a fine one to talk fox. You've probably killed more of your own kind than I've killed strangers. I was a soldier. The folks I killed were enemies. I did what I was told, and that was all."

"Enemies?" Silver Tip spat. "Some of them were your neighbours! You went well beyond the duties of a soldier when you killed those trying to surrender, and then raped and tortured their wives and children. And do not try to hide behind the spectre of Ro-Da. Not every dog joined Ang-Ro's army, and not many of them joined her special troops. If she were alive she would be hanged for the crimes done in her name, and as her chief lieutenant you would be hanging beside her. But since she has been given a less painful death I suppose you will have to hang alone."

Crusher's face contorted in rage, fear and finally desperation as the old fox spoke. Looking around he saw nothing but stern faces, the kind that he was used to seeing so often when he was a lowly guard in his home village, just before punishment was meted out. The only creature that was not looking daggers at him was the feline with the black fur and the white mark on her forehead. She was ignoring him, which was almost as bad, and looking down at the baby in her arms with a serene smile.

"This is all her fault." The big dog snarled as he shifted his aim away from Silver Tip and onto Snowdrop. "She started it all." Darwin made to step around in front of the mother and child but Crusher froze him with a twitch of the crossbow. "No. Nobody move. She and the baby are coming with me." He gestured for her to approach with his free paw, but she only leaned back against Darwin and clutched her child closer to her chest.

A chorus of protests broke out. "We will never let you take her!" Aster declared, above the rest. Crusher's eyes jerked back and forth as he tried to watch everyone on the crowd at once.

Off to the side, one of Silver Tip's troops, seeing the dog's attention waver, raised his crossbow and took aim. But his horse shied at the sudden movement and he could not draw a bead on the canine, and he hesitated to shoot lest he hit one of his own by mistake.

Silver Tip saw the movement, as did Crusher. The leader of the foxes raised his paw and shouted, "Willow Wind, No!" But he was too late. Sensing danger, Crusher flexed his digit and released the deadly bolt.

Darwin had seen the fox raise its crossbow also, and he knew that the distraction was his last chance to save Snowdrop. He did not know if the body armour he was wearing would stop a razor tipped bolt but he had to try. As soon as Crusher's eyes flicked toward the threat on his left Darwin shoved Snowdrop to the side and leapt to get in front of her.

Darwin had started to move before Crusher pulled the trigger, but that only gave him a split-second advantage. With only thirty feet separating the two the bolt took less than a tenth of a second to cross the distance. Snowdrop was still standing where Crusher had been aiming when he fired, and Darwin barely had time to knock her over before the bolt arrived at its intended target. But he did manage to get a shoulder in front of her as she fell, and the ceramic shield built into Kevlar armour there was designed to take the impact of an assault rifle bullet without shattering. The bolt connected with the curved surface at an angle such that it was deflected, rather than splintering instantly. With three of the four blades still intact it whizzed past Snowdrop's nose as she fell over, slicing off one of her whiskers as it passed.

Snowdrop fainted into Darwin's arms and he had to fumble to keep the baby from dropping. Aster rushed to his aid. Four foxes jumped Crusher before he could reload and held him by the arms. Roark and Silver Tip strode up to confront the canine. In the back of the crowd, Annie leaned against Dylan and squeezed his paws very, very tightly.

"It's alright, Annie. Snowdrop and her baby are safe."

"Heg ... I." Annie struggled to speak. She forced his paws down along her abdomen until they were stopped by something hard and narrow. Dylan looked down, and saw the feathered shaft of Crusher's bolt protruding from her blood stained clothing. He screamed her name and lowered her to the ground, laying her on her back. She was limp from the waist down, and the blood was still flowing. He had seen enough crossbow wounds while fighting in the caravans to know that this one had lodged in her spine. Trying to remove the bolt could kill her instantly, while leaving it in place meant that she would slowly bleed to death. He knelt beside her, raised his head to the sky and howled his frustration.

Tig, Dead Eye and the three scientists rushed to see to Annie, but even from a distance Roark and Silver Tip could tell that it was too late. For the second time in less than an hour a red mist filled the space behind Roark's eyes as rage threatened to blind him. He picked up two of Silver Tip's discarded knives and stepped up to face Crusher.

"Roark, wait." The old fox grabbed for his arm but Roark shrugged him off and addressed the doberman.

"Silver Tip wants to put you on trial, and hang you, but in my pack we do things differently. When a female is attacked, only her father or brothers have the right to seek revenge. One of them fights the miscreant, to the death. If they win, justice is considered fulfilled. If they lose, the matter is forgotten, as if it never happened, and the alleged attacker is free to go on their way. But Annie was an orphan, so someone who loved her dearly will have to fill in for them. Which would you prefer, Crusher, trial or combat?"

Eyeing the grief stricken hunchback with his bandy legs Crusher asked, "If I win, I walk? No more war crimes, no more trial?"

Silver Tip tried to interject but Roark silenced him with a gesture. "You have my word." Roark held out the two daggers and Crusher chose the larger of the two.

The big dog smiled. "Give the freak a knife and let's get this over with." He stepped around the grey wolf and strode toward Dylan.

"Oh, no." Roark said from close behind Crusher. "She was like a sister to me, so I claim the right to avenge her." Before the doberman could turn back Roark reached around and plunged the small dagger into the dog's belly. Then, holding Crusher around the chest with one arm, he pulled the blade back and across, opening up half of the dog's abdomen before letting him go.

Leaning to one side to keep the wound closed, Crusher stumbled around in ever decreasing circles that left a spiral of blood in the rock beneath his feet. Roark stood his ground, shuffling around to follow the dog's progress and keeping an eye on the dagger still clutched in its paw. The foxes surrounding them moved away as the doberman lurched to a halt and finally collapsed at Roark's feet. Within a minute his chest stopped moving and his eyes rolled back in their sockets.

"Burn him where he lies." Roark ordered. Then tears filled his eyes as he ran to Annie's side.

She was lying on her back with her eyes closed, breathing shallowly. Her white riding robes were stained red from groin to breast. The bolt was still sticking out of her and she had wrapped her paws around the shaft and held it as if it was a precious relic. "Annie." He called softly.

He eyes fluttered open. "Ro ... Roark."

"How do you fell Annie. Does it hurt?"

"No, not ... not at all. I fell ...warm, but ... tired."

"That's a good sign, isn't it?" Dylan glanced hopefully at George, the scientist with the most medical knowledge. George shook his head as he blinked back tears.

"You are going to be fine." Dylan lied. "We'll have you patched up and on your feet in no time."

"Save your ... your stories ... for the cubs and kits around the campfire." Annie said with some effort. "I know it's the end of the road for me."

"No, no. You can't ... can't go. Not now." Dylan put his paws on hers gently, careful not to move the bolt. "We have to stay together, until the end of time, just like Star Gazer said." He sobbed.

Annie responded by raising one paw to his face. "Don't ... don't be sad, Heg." Her breathing seemed to ease, but her eyes were growing cloudy. "You were right about the old vixen's predictions. She said that we would be together at the end of my journey, and this is the end of my journey, in this world at least. But I'm still happy ... happy that I found you and told you that I love you ... before ... before ..."

"Annie. Please! I ... I can't lose you again. I won't ... I won't be able to go on without you."

A small smile illuminated her face. "Dylan, Da-Lan, my story teller. Don't be sad for ... for what we're losing, be happy for we've found, and ... and the time we had together, no matter how short. Promise ... promise me that you'll ... you'll try?"

Dylan could hardly breathe through his weeping. "I'll ... I'll try. I promise." He forced his teary eyes open only to see hers closing. "I promise Annie, I promise!" He repeated with more force, and then added, softly, "I love you. I'll always love you. Until the end of time. I promise."

Annie's eyes opened as she turned her head toward his voice, but it was obvious that she could no longer see. "Don't make promises that you can't keep." She turned her head to the other side. "Roark?"

"I'm right here."

She adjusted her blind gaze slightly. "Promise me that you'll take care of him."

"What? Again?" He said with false joviality as a tear rolled down his cheek and fell on her breast.

Annie tried to laugh, but began coughing silently instead. Dylan and the others could do nothing but watch, stricken, until the spasms subsided. By the time they had the blood leaking from her had spread to the ground beneath her. Beneath her light brown fur her skin had gone pale, and her pink lips were turning pale blue. "Tig?"

Tig stroked Annie's ear and whispered "Je suis ici, ma cherie."

"I'll never forget you Tig, my saviour. You will always be my little chevalier."

"I would save you from this, if I could."

Annie's voice was fading. "Say goodbye to Silver Tip and Ast- ... Aster for ... for me."

"I'm right here child." Aster put a paw on each side of Annie's head to comfort her.

Annie gave a stuttering sigh and lay still for a few moments. The rise and fall of her chest slowed, became shallower, and finally seemed to stop altogether. Just when they thought it was all over for her she spoke again. "Dylan." She said in a quiet voice.

"Yes Annie?"

"Take me home."

"Of course Annie." He answered through his tears, and then rubbed his eyes to clear them.

But he was never sure if she heard his reply, because somewhere between her speaking and the time his vision cleared she had slipped away.

* * * * * * * *

Silver Tip set the fox army to rounding up the other species that had fought in what would come to be known as the 'three battles of the plain'. He did not want leaderless bands of soldiers marauding around the countryside on either side of the gap, especially the former members of Ro-Da's devil battalion.

Those that wore the markings of officers were interrogated quickly, but without force, to determine who could be trusted. Former wolf pack leaders were identified and each was asked to swear alliance to the new alliance and acknowledge Roark as their interim chief. This they did to a wolf, all being disillusioned, tired of fighting, and anxious to get home. The Barons of the five southern species were dutifully pointed out by Rock, Kaplan and Nolan in exchange for not being turned over to those they had abused in the past. The Barons were offered the option of swearing allegiance to the alliance, with each of them having equal status on a Council that would answer to the alliance. Only the King's cousin, who had already taken to calling himself Diego the Ninth, required any persuasion, and that was provided by the other four Barons, who made it perfectly clear that they would never again serve a King, of any species. Canines, felines and coyotes not from Ro-Da's battalion were formed into a single group under one of Silver Tip's officers. Work parties from each species were formed to collect the dead and treat the wounded.

Once every creature was taken care of or sent onward according to their custom anyone who wanted to go home could, Silver Tip promised the leaders, but only in formed groups and in an orderly fashion.

Those that had followed Crusher, however, were put under close guard, to be held until evidence could be gathered as to which of them was involved in what crimes over the course of the war. They were fairly easy to identify because of the distinctive body decorations they had affected. Rank badges and unit insignia could be ripped off and thrown away but it was impossible to disguise a shaved head, dyed fur or cult symbols cut into one's skin.

That night Silver Tip, Aster, Dead Eye and Tig joined Roark, Dylan, Darwin and Snowdrop in the Humans' compound to discuss the future. Before going in, Silver Tip stationed a battalion of heavy cavalry outside the gate, which George Tom and Ray had decided to leave open as a sign of good will.

Tired of dealing with the politics of the new relationship between the species they restricted the discussion to short versions of each traveler's tale. Tig, Annie's constant companion for much of her journey, told her story including the events that led up to their first meeting, which she had confided to him. Roark and Dylan began reminiscing about her time in the pack while the others listened and added their own observations about the young she-wolf.

"I wish I had known her." Snowdrop said from where she was sitting quietly in a corner, rocking Aurora on her lap. "What will you do now Dylan?"

The misshapen wolf shrugged and sighed. "She asked me to take her home, so I will take her body back to the mountains and bury her with honours where our other den mates rest. But it is a long voyage and I don't know how I will manage it."

Tom put down the plate of food he was eating. The three scientists had helped carry Annie to their small medical facility and had cleaned up the body. "We have chemicals here that can preserve her and air-tight containers designed for victims of biological attacks. It should not be too difficult to put one on a cart that you can pull. I'm just sorry that we weren't able to keep her alive long enough to give her our last dose of serum. That would have fixed all the other damage, if we could have just kept her alive long enough for it to do its work."

"It's not your fault Tom." Dylan replied. "Besides, I'm sure Annie would not want to live forever. She would have preferred to grow old watching her children raise her grandchildren. But thank you for taking care of her, and I'll take you up on that offer of a cart. That will make the journey easier, if not shorter. "

Roark leaned over and put a friendly paw on Dylan's shoulder. "I'll go with you."

"Thank you Roark, but shouldn't you hurry back to the dens?"

"No. They have pledged allegiance to me and to each other, but the true test will be whether the former pack leaders can work together without me there. I have spoken with each of them today and they all know what has to be done to ensure the survival of all the dens through the winter. If they ignore that and fall to squabbling just because I'm not there to watch them then my species is doomed anyway. The trip will take several weeks in any event, so another week or so won't matter. Besides, I can help you pull the cart."

"We can do better than that." Silver Tip spoke up. "Our supply caravan will not be joining us here, but we have plenty of horses. We can spare one for the cart and others for you to ride."

"But we know nothing about horses, not how to ride them or take care of them." In the caravan the foxes had taken care of the horses themselves, and kept the guards away from them. Roark and Dylan did not even find out that the foxes could actually ride the beasts until the end of the journey, after they had won Silver Tip's gratitude and trust.

"It will be a few days yet before we have the remnants of the armies sorted out. You can spend the time learning the basics. And you can travel with my party as far as the gap at least, so there will be plenty of help while you get used to them."

"And you can count on me and Dead Eye." Tig spoke up. "We will be honoured to escort Annie's body back to her home den."

"Aye." Dead Eye agreed, whipping a dribble of tobacco juice that had escaped from the corner of his mouth.

"Perhaps we could travel with you also." Darwin spoke up from his seat beside Snowdrop.

"Oh?" George said. "I thought that you might want to stay and raise your family here, given what you two have gone through."

"It's tempting." The beagle, who now looked much older than his years, replied. "But Snowdrop and I have decided that hiding ourselves away will accomplish nothing. We will become a myth, a legend without proof, and our folk will fall back to their old separate and suspicious ways. No. We will travel up the river valley, if that is the way you are headed, and show Aurora to all and everyone who asks. Maybe that way, their eyes will be opened to the possibility of peace between the species."

Dead Eye spat in a cup he was holding for that purpose. "Or they may run you out of town, encampment, whichever, as abominations and enemies of your respective species." He commented.

"That is a risk we are willing to take." Snowdrop replied.

"But not alone." Aster interrupted. "We will travel with you as far as you wish to go, won't we dear?" She placed a paw on that of her mate.

"Of course. Renaud would have wanted us to protect the offspring the new generation of mixed species just as we protect our own son."

George shook his head. "Sad to hear about Renaud. I was hoping that he would come back one day. Still I'm glad to see his favourite species come along to save the day. He would have appreciated that."

"Why does everyone call him Renaud?" Dylan asked. "Didn't he have a first name?"

"His given names were Jean-Jacques Pierre Michel, but he preferred to be called Renaud." Tom informed him. "He was a hell of a talented guy. Good with his hands, good with machines, a good cook too. Barbeque mostly."

"You guys are pretty good yourselves. This chicken was perfect." Tig said as he wiped his plate with a slice of bread. "It is amazing what you did with a few spices."

Tom smiled. "When you have had almost two thousand years to practice cooking chicken you tend to get as good as you can get. What I could really go for is a good roast pork."

"Don't let Nolan's gang here you say that." Dylan joked. "But seriously, now that you are no longer isolated you can trade knowledge for all sorts of things. Aside from your own specialities you have those computers that you showed us. I just took a look at the index and, my Gods, I bet you could fill a mountain with the scrolls it take to hold all that information. The wart hogs will be flocking here to learn about your technology and the canines will want to learn all about the agricultural techniques."

"And the foxes will come to study human politics and business." Silver Tip added.

"And use both to subjugate all the other species while convincing us that it is for our own good." Aster said as she wrapped an arm around his shoulders and placed a paw on his chest.

The group laughed, all except for Ray, who looked distracted, Silver Tip noticed. He pulled his chair over by the tall lanky scientist and asked him if he was feeling alright.

"What? Hmmm, yes, I'm fine. I was just thinking of something you said earlier, about Renaud's death."

"When he was killed by the great bear?"

"Yes, Ursus arctos horribilis. What happened to his body, do you know?"

Silver Tip sat back and tried to recall his school lessons from many decades before. "I don't think they recovered it, at least not all of it." He said uncertainly. "There is no grave site in any event. The bear probably buried it as they are wont to do with a large kill to retrieve later. But it never got the chance because our hunters pursued it until it left the valley. Why do you ask?"

Ray scratched his chin. "Just wondering."

* * * * * * * *

Three days later they left the compound. Silver Tip left a sizable contingent behind to protect the three humans from marauding wanderers, and to ensure that the components of the last of the destructive weapons stayed under lock and key.

Annie was laid out in a fine dress of Aster's that had been adjusted to fit the smaller wolf. It covered the damage as well as the work the scientists had done to preserve her body. Her fur had been cleaned and styled by Snowdrop and Aster, and they had arranged her with her paws clasped on her chest. Her snout was pointing straight up, and George had mixed some glue to keep her moth and eyes shut, so it looked like she was sleeping. Indeed, through the clear Plexiglas shield of the capsule they sealed he in, she looked more alive than dead, and the sight of her wasted beauty brought all her knew her to tears.

Her capsule was mounted on a cart pulled by two mares. Dylan, who had proven incapable of learning how to ride a horse, sat on a bench at the front and guided them with a long set of reigns. Roark joined him there for the first part of the journey, even though he had mastered the equestrian arts quickly. Dylan wanted everyone involved in the adventures of the past year to take turns telling him their stories in great detail. Each day someone different would ride with him and recount their experiences as well as their observations. Dylan was adept at pulling memories out of the dark corners of their minds with his probing questions.

Their first stop was the old city of San Diego, where they checked on the progress the five zoo species were making in forming their new society. Several of the species had deposed their Barons in favour of leaders selected by popular vote. The Lions and Tigers, sticking to tradition, had not followed the other's example. The five species had formed a senate, tasked with forming a constitution for the southern portion of the alliance to live by, but so far it was not going well. The Pandas controlled the raw materials while the wart hogs had a corner on the manufacturing of goods and he leopards had seized most of the herds they had been charged with watching over. The Tigers believed that they could go it alone by becoming hunters, while the lions roared about equal distribution for all, without being able to explain what they would contribute to the communal pot. Silver Tip left a company of experienced guards behind under the leadership of his most stoic and incorruptible son, Bright Eyes, as a peacekeeping force, just in case.

From there they made their way quickly back north to the gap. Silver Tip sent word ahead that the rest of the army should return to the winter campground immediately. This was partially to get them back under cover before the worst of the winter weather arrived, as well as to clear the road for the small party that now accompanied Dylan.

The old fox and Roark had discussed the matter and agreed that the sight of the misshapen wolf bringing the body of his beautiful lover back home would be more impressive if he were not surrounded by a large contingent of guards. With just Roark, Silver Tip, Tig and Dead Eye as armed escorts, the curious would be more inclined to approach and ask about the she-wolf in the capsule. Then Dylan could tell them the story of how she had followed her lost lover across the world while said lover helped a lonely canine search for his own lost love, a feline, and the cross-species child that she bore.

The tactic proved to be a good one at the southernmost settlements of the river valley, where the canines and felines were more used to each other's presence. They marvelled at the sight of Aurora, with her feline body and canine features. They all agreed that she had inherited the best features of each parent, although the felines gritted their teeth when they pretended to admire her floppy ears. But if Aster, the next best thing to a queen as far as they were concerned, said she admired them then so would they.

From then on the routine was the same every day. The group of nine would travel during the daylight hours, often accompanied by locals who had come out to the road to watch for them. The canines and felines, and occasional coyote, would gaze in wonder at the vision of loveliness inside the transparent capsule and try to steal glances of the baby they had heard so much about. The travelers would be invited to spend the night at an encampment or village, and they would accept one of the invitations, provided anyone of any species could come and join them. After a hearty supper Dylan would tell his story, which grew a little more elaborate and a little longer with each telling. Then Snowdrop would pass Aurora around for the crowd to examine.

The appearance of the mixed group, their obvious respect for one another, and the skill of Dylan's recounting all helped to instil awe and a longing for the new society that the baby Aurora represented. Before long towns and encampments that were not on their route began sending delegations to hear the story and examine the miracle baby. Their leaders also took the chance to confer with Silver Tip, Aster and Roark as to the future of the valley and their place in it.

So it was not unusual to see a mixed group of canines and felines waiting for them on the road as they neared the region where Darwin and Snowdrop had once lived. It was an unusually large group, however, with many armed warriors. The smaller group moved forward cautiously, with the foxes and Roark riding ahead, clutching concealed pistols in case the larger group proved to have malicious intent.

The caution was unnecessary. Before they had covered half the distance Silver Tip recognized his brother-in-law Smokey and the canine guard who had risen to command the western half of the canine-feline force that had rebelled against wolf rule. Max was his name, Silver tip recalled. The warriors with them were likely there more for ceremonial reasons than their protection, although there were still a few gangs of marauding wolves and coyotes loose in the valley. The two leaders stepped forward to meet the approaching horses.

Silver Tip dismounted as a sign of respect, as did the others. He signalled for the rest of their party to move forward to join them. Tig and Dead Eye took the horses aside, leaving Aster, Silver Tip and Roark to great the canine and feline leaders. Darwin and Snowdrop waited with Dylan beside the cart, close enough to hear without being part of the conversation.

Smokey and Max left their guard behind but brought a number of others forward with them. Among them Darwin recognized the mayor of his village. He had already heard the bad news about his uncle from a neighbour who had been conscripted to carry supplies for the wolves, and he was not surprised to see Mordicai's old friend the mayor in the group. Snowdrop pointed out Dawn, the priestess she was supposed to replace, and Bear Cat, the son of her tribe's chief. They wondered how they had come to be with the rebel leaders.

Their purpose was revealed shortly after the five leaders met. After a few cursory greetings Max and the Mayor approached Darwin and Snowdrop with Bear Cat and Smokey beside them. They stopped a few paces away from the couple and bowed their heads respectfully.

The mayor, a mid-sized schnauzer with a white muzzle and a silver coat spoke first. "We have come to apologise to you, Darwin Beagle."

"And to you Snowdrop" Bear Cat added humbly.

"On behalf of your village, for the wrongs we did to you." The mayor continued.

"And on behalf of your tribe." Bear Cat concluded.

Max stepped forward. Darwin recognized him as the guard who had kept him from throwing himself off the bridge several months before. He addressed Snowdrop. "And on behalf of all the canines and felines in the in the valley, we wish to offer our condolences for your suffering Snowdrop, and welcome you back to the valley."

"We also offer congratulations on the birth of your daughter." Smokey said to Darwin. "May she grow to be a priestess, like her mother."

"A priestess?" Snowdrop was shocked. She looked at Bear Cat through narrowed eyes. "I thought I lost my chance to become a priestess earlier this year."

Smokey continued. "No one can deny the magic in you that has brought forth this miraculous child. Or the turn of events that your love for the beagle Darwin has brought about. Is that not so, Bear Cat?" He turned to look at his fellow feline warrior who stood with his head hung in shame.

"It is so." The chief's son said without looking up. "The changes our societies are going through call for, ahh, adjustments in our traditions. You are welcome to take up your station and live with us in the encampment, as is your ... husband." Bear Cat choked a little on the last word, but when he looked up in her eyes he seemed sincere enough.

"You two are welcome to live in the village, should you chose to do so." The mayor injected. "It's a slight more modern place for raising a young one. We have a school, a church, and soon we'll have public washrooms."

Snowdrop smiled slightly. "As tempting as that sounds, Darwin and I have been discussing it, and we have decided to live somewhere else."

"With my sister Aster in the fox campgrounds." Smoky guessed.

"Not for more than the first winter." Darwin answered. "We had decided that if both our homes seemed amicable to our return that we would live between them. The grove where we first met is roughly the same distance from the village and the encampment. We will build a home there come springtime."

"You can count on our help when you build it lad." The mayor said.

"We will start clearing the land immediately." Bear Cat avowed. "By spring the knoll will be clear."

"Just take down enough trees on the south side for a small cabin to fit between them." Darwin advised him. "I want the back to open up onto the grove the way it was when we first saw it. Here, I'll show you." The beagle squatted and began drawing in the soft dirt of the roadside.

The others had moved up behind the delegation while the apologies were being offered. Snowdrop left Darwin and the other males discussing cabin construction and passed Aurora to Aster before approaching Dawn, who was standing apart from the rest, looking apprehensive. She opened her arms to indicate that whatever was troubling the old priestess was of no consequence, and Dawn rushed into those open arms with tears of relief streaming down her face.

"Snowdrop, kitten, I am so sorry for what happened to you. It is all my fault. I should have protected you better, demanded your release from White Owl." She went on to describe how she had tried to get shadow to pass a message to Darwin only to have her messenger coerced into telling a different tale by the chief's son.

"Shush. There was nothing you could do. You tried to help but thing had to take their course, is all. They have ended well for Darwin and I, at least." She said with a sigh, looking at the capsule that contained Annie's body. Then she shook her head to clear it and forced herself to smile at her old mentor. "Come, tell me the news. How is everyone? Did the tribe lose many warriors during the fighting?"

"Well, where to start? For one thing White Owl was wounded terribly and has lapsed into a coma. Bear Cat speaks for the tribe in matters of war now. Shadow, that disloyal little ..." Dawn continued as Aster and the baby joined them.

Dylan cornered Bear Cat and demanded to hear his version of the spring's events, no matter how shameful his role in them. "Telling the tale will take the weight off some of the guilt." He told the feline. "And then you can go about setting things right for Darwin and Snowdrop with a lighter heart."

Silver Tip found himself alone with Roark. "Will you do us the honour of visiting the winter campgrounds before you return home to your mountains?" He asked.

Roark studied the skies, as if they could tell him when the first snows would fall a hundred miles east of them. "We can stop for a few days, I suppose. I know that Dylan is dying to visit the shrine of Renaud, and I have my own reasons for going there. It would be good also to see Darwin and Snowdrop safely to your home. Not that I think that they are in any danger anymore, but I've taken a liking to the young pup and his feline bride. "

"Yes." Silver Tip said dryly. "I have noticed that you are partial to the felines."

A month ago Roark would have turned red with equal measures of anger and embarrassment at those words. But after all he had been through he just shrugged and smiled at the stone-faced fox. "I admit that I was smitten with your spouse from the time I first laid eyes on her. But she is not the reason I want to travel with you to your den. I want to see Star Gazer and tell her that her prediction was true."

"They generally are, in an ironic sense more often than not. What did she tell you?"

"She was trying to tell me that love comes in many forms, and that we can express it in different ways, but that I would learn that lesson too late. She was right. Until recently I thought that love automatically meant physical attraction. I thought that I was in love with any female that was worthy of my admiration, yet failed to recognize that what I felt for Annie was a form of love also. I'm sorry I never got the chance to tell her I loved her. And I hope that I have not embarrassed myself too much by mooning over your mate."

"You are not the first, and probably will not be the last." The old fox shrugged, and then turned and wandered over to where Darwin, Max and Smokey were arguing over the merits of stone walls over wood and whether the privy should go inside or out.

* * * * * * * *

They stayed the night at Smokey's camp and moved on as usual in the morning. They were already near the northern edge of the populated portion of the valley so they angled west and crossed the river south of the road that led to the guard village. Only individual canine homesteaders lived in this part of the valley, and all who remained of Aster's tribe had been with Smokey, so there was little need to continue showing off Aurora. They made good time back to the winter campgrounds.

Star Blaze had not been idle while his main rival was away, but the extraordinary powers that had been granted to Silver Tip prevented him from launching a coup d'état in his competitor's absence. News of the quick and relatively bloodless resolution to the war and the peace that the older fox had negotiated further weakened Star Blaze's position. To his astonishment, however, Silver Tip immediately relinquished all power and announced his retirement, but not before naming his second eldest son to replace him on the Board and nominating his youngest adult son, Tig, as the chair of the new Species Relations Committee. The appointments ensured his influence over the future government of the northern valley, and their eventual unification with the southerners.

Annie's capsule was placed in one of the larger squares for all who wished to visit and pay their respects. A surprising number of foxes left flowers as tribute to the wolf who had warned them of the impending danger. Tig and Dylan were shown extra deference as her companion and her lover.

Darwin and Snowdrop settled into Silver Tip and Aster's quarters as their guests for the winter. Their son, only a few months older than Aurora, was starting to show its future markings, but so far his only distinguishing feature was the elfin look that his mix of feline and vulpine features gave him. He was as yet unnamed, for in accordance with fox tradition he would not be named until some distinctive trait showed. Snowdrop commented that he looked like one of the wood sprites that feline legend spoke of. Then and there Aster decided to call him Sprite, and none of Silver Tip's sour looks would dissuade her.

"What kind of a name is Sprite?" he complained. "It is ridiculous."

"It is an excellent name, full fortune and magic." She answered. Besides, you let your second youngest name himself Tig."

"It was fitting. This one will is already large for his age. Folk will ridicule a big fox named Sprite."

"If he is anything like his father they will not ridicule him more than once." And with that the matter was settled.

Roark and Dylan toured the winter campgrounds together with Tig the first day, but after that Roark left the lore master and the little fox alone and spent the next two days discussing various forms of government with Silver Tip and some of the older members of the Board. Even Star Blaze offered some useful suggestions as to how one might govern a dispersed pack-oriented group like the wolves.

On the fourth day Roark and Dylan hitched up the horses to Annie's cart and took their leave. Dead Eye and Tig rode beside them, determined to fulfil their pledge to escort her body home. It was a good thing, because they ran into several gangs of hungry coyotes, left leaderless by the war, and Roark was not sure that he and Dylan could have fought them off alone, even with the brace of loaded single-shot pistols they each carried.

They traversed the relatively flat plains between the river valley and the eastern mountains fairly quickly. When they neared the foothills Tig, whose eyes were better than any of the others, spotted wolf scouts in the highlands. The scouts made no attempt at concealment, but neither did they approach the travelers. The scouts packed up and left before they were close enough to hail them, but they continued to see signs of their presence as they progressed toward their old den.

Roark was a little worried about what kind of reception they were in for, but he was determined to continue on in the open. If some alpha wolf had taken over the packs in his absence there was not much he could or cared to do about it. He would simply help Dylan burry their friend and return to seek employment with Silver Tip if that was the case. Still, a rival may not give him the chance to explain his intent, so they kept an eye out for ambushes.

He need not have worried. When they got to the steeper area near the den they found that a switch-back road had been constructed to ease the cart's climb and that the leaders of all the packs had gathered at its start to escort Annie's body to the top, where the surviving members of his pack and other ordinary wolves waited. There they deferred to Roark as the leader of the wolf alliance by right of combat to direct them.

"We have pooled our resources, as you directed." Lu-Fa, the former Ro-Da who had been the first to accept the peace Silver Tip had offered, said when they were gathered in from of the caves Roark and Dylan had grown up in. "We have shared information on the movements of the herds and where the wild plants that can sustain us grow. The packs will survive the winter, though some of the older and weaker will probably die. What would you have us do now, Ang-Ro."

Roark stood up on the cart's bench to address the crowd. "My name is Roark, and I will take no title. I am not here to lead you, but I will offer my advice, and you are free to accept it or reject it as you see fit. For tonight, I want you to do nothing more than celebrate the live of a young she-wolf that fell far too soon. Tomorrow we can discuss leaders and alliances and governments, but I will tell you one thing. Do not be afraid to feast tonight, because the foxes have offered to send a caravan full of food across the plains to help see us through the winter."

"Across the plains?" Someone shouted. "Those mangy coyotes will steal it all before it gets halfway!"

"Not with the escort that they will send with it." Roark assured them, and those who had seen the massive armoured vehicles with their own eyes nodded their heads sagely. "Besides, they will be giving food away to the coyotes as they go, so there will be no need to steal any."

At that point he dismounted, ignoring the astonished looks and inquisitive calls from the crowd. The scout that had had reported to him during the great hunt that rainy day in spring so long ago informed him that the caverns of the former leader and his wicked mate had been reserved for their party. Dylan enlisted the help of several of the larger wolves, Lu-Fa amongst them, to lift Annie's capsule down from the cart and carry it to the clearing where meals were held and stories were told. Then they lead the horses to the caverns where they could be fed and cared for before joining the rest of the wolves at the traditional mourning feast.

Wolf funerals are far from being sombre events. The pack gathers to feast and drink the mildly alcoholic beverages fermented from wild grains and the female flowers of certain mountain plants. By tradition, weeping and outward signs of grief are frowned upon. The pack Da-Lan will be called on to tell humorous or heroic renditions of the deceased. The departed's favourite songs or tales may be performed as an alternative. Once full of food and beer, the participants usually wander back to their caves, leaving the immediate family behind to continue the celebration until dawn. Then, once the rest of the pack had departed, the family may grieve, but not always. A wolf who was lucky enough to die of old age or be killed in honourable circumstances in battle was no cause for tears; it was just the way things were.

Annie had no living relatives, so Dylan, Roark, Tig and Dead Eye took their place in the circle around the fire. Even Cor-Wag was present at the feast, at the specific request of Dylan, the pack's former story teller. She had not dared to refuse, not now that Dylan's best friend was the acknowledged leader of all the wolves, whether he claimed the title or not. The whole group and many guests from the other packs were assembled silently. Not only were they subdued by the unusual presence of the two foxes, but most knew about the circumstances of Dylan and Annie's' departures, and the role that the current Da-Lan had played in them. They waited to see what sort of revenge the misshapen wolf would take on his dour replacement.

As for Cor-Wag, she was more resigned than afraid. Not only had she snatched the title of Da-Lan from her misshapen predecessor before the fire in his cave was cool, she had bullied the wolf he loved into leaving the pack, setting Annie on the road that lead to her death. She expected no less punishment than to be banished to starve on the peaks of the mountains from the returning heroes. And she was ready to accept such punishment, or worse, for she had no desire to live among her own any more. Ang-Ro and Ro-Da had commanded her to accompany the army in its campaign to conquer the known world and now she was half mad from seeing too many atrocities, hearing too many cries of pain and anguish, and looking at the haunted and hate-filled faces of too many creatures. She had not spoken a word to anyone in a month.

Dylan stood, hardly taller on his bandy stunted legs than when he was seated. "Trying times can change us." He began seriously. "I am not the same happy-go-lucky wolf that I was when I was selected to be this pack's Da-Lan. Of course, a true Da-Lan overcomes their own feelings to perform for the good of the pack. So I will tell you all a fantastic tale tonight, a tale of how our world has been changing and continues to change, and of Annie's small part in that. But before I begin, I would call on your current Da-Lan to perform something in tribute to our departed member." He gestured with a paw toward Cor-Wag, urging her to stand. A thousand eyes flicked back and forth between the thick-chested hunchback and the doomed storyteller.

Cor-Wag wet her lips as she stood. "Wh- what would you like me to perform?" She croaked.

"Something Annie would have liked."

Cor-Wag thought desperately. She and Annie were almost the same age, and had played together before Annie's parents had died tragically. But she had shunned the little she-cub after that, because without family she was doomed to starve or die from the abuse older males and unmated adolescents would heap on her, and thus not worthy of recognition. It was only the intervention of the young An-Rum and his misshapen companion Heg, now Roark and Dylan, that had kept her alive. But she had still lived outside of the social order, lurking in the shadows at the evening meals, hiding behind her protectors.

A memory surfaced in Cor-Wag's mind, that of Annie laughing. She fought hard to retrieve the rest of the memory and recalled more than one occasion where the small female had joined the rest of the pack in laughter as the old Da-Lan had performed some of the more comic stories from wolf lore. One in particular seemed to have amused her.

"I recall that Annie enjoyed the tale "The foolishness of Cor-No." She announced. "I will try to do it justice in honour of her.

The members of the pack gasped. That particular story was one of the more physical comedies, a tale of the drunken storm god raging back and forth across the skies in a lusty search for Fer-Na, the fire Goddess, who was hiding from him. Cor-Wag, named after the Storm God for her stormy disposition was well as the cloud-like patterns on her coat, was the last wolf they could imagine performing the tale. She obviously preferred suicide over banishment, they concluded, because Dylan was sure to kill her when his replacement, known for her dark and foreboding style, failed to make anyone laugh.

Cor-Wag knew the story, of course. When she, Heg and one other were apprentices together the Da-Lan of the time had insisted that they learn all of the tales, even though Heg was the real comedian of the group. She could not see the point in the comic tales, especially the ones that made fun of the vengeful gods that they worshiped, hence her performances in this area had been lacking. That was one of the reasons why their master had recommended Heg to replace him as Da-Lan. Cor-Wag had hated the old story teller when she found out, but by them he was dead so she had turned her hatred onto Heg and his friends.

She stepped forward into the hushed circle. She could see the hard smiles of anticipation on the faces of many of her pack mates, and that did not surprise her. She had once thought that assuming the position of Da-Lan, after Heg deserted the pack, would bring automatic respect from her peers, but it had not. They had preferred the hunchback's lighter touch, even with war looming. There had been a sense of fear in the pack back then, fear of Ro-Da and her evil ways, fear of dying in the skirmishes between packs, fear of the unknown when the wolf alliance set out to conquer the world, and Ang-Ro had used her to fan that fear into a flame of anger. But between battles the fear returned, and some of that fear was directed at her, the severe siren of death and doom that drove them onward.

The tale The foolishness of Cor-No required some props. The campfire and the torches that surrounded the crowd would serve for the fire goddess's hiding places, but the drunken God was usually depicted carrying a gourd and drinking from it sloppily. Not being prepared for the role she had not brought a gourd of water with her, so, convinced that she had nothing more to lose, she boldly snatched one from the paw of one of the visiting pack leaders.

She tilted her head back and took a swig, following the movements she had been forced to memorize during her apprenticeship. She had been expecting water, or perhaps the week beer they brewed here, but the gourd contained a distilled beverage that was much stronger, something the visiting wolf had purchased a barrel of from the foxes years ago and had saved for occasions like this. The fiery liquid made Cor-Wag choke and sputter like a real drunk, and the pose she struck when she thought that her last meal was coming back up on a column of alcohol fumes was not one that her master had ever taught her.

The laughter her predicament elicited was mixed. Some of it, from the guests who did not know her, was genuine, but that which came from the members of her own pack had a hard, mean edge to it. They were tired of living in fear, Cor-Wag realized, and she was the last symbol of that fear. Seeing her brought down would bring them relief, she supposed, just like seeing the gods depicted as drunken idiots seemed to.

And then, as he stood on her toes, leaning over and fighting to keep the contents of her stomach down, arms spread for balance and face puckered up like a week old grape, she finally saw the point to the comedies. Wolves lived in an environment where food was scarce, and tragedy lurked around every corner. The Gods sent freezing storms to test them, devastating earth quakes, and forest fires that killed the game and left the mountainside barren. Yet, year after year, they somehow managed to survive, to breed, and love, and laugh. And what better than to laugh at fate, at what you feared most?

Cor-Wag slowly straightened up and looked around at the crowd with new understanding, her face reflecting the wonder inside her. Across the fire she caught the eye of Dylan, a name close to the title he once bore, a name that suited him. She saw him studying her, and then she saw him smile. It was an encouraging smile.

Cor-Wag brought the gourd to her mouth and tilted it. She let some of the liquor spill out the corners of her mouth, which brought moans from the wolf she had snatched it from, but she swallowed a fair bit too. Then she lowered the gourd, wiped her mouth with her arm like the lowest of wolves, and threw herself into the story.

It may not have been the best rendition of the tale ever presented, but the sight of the formerly grim story teller acting the buffoon, staggering back and forth inside the circle of watchers, was enough to bring howls of laughter. And even if some of those staggers and slips were more from the drink than the artist's talent, well that was alright too. Seeing the dour she-wolf with the cloudy coat actually enjoying herself for once was a sign that thing had changed for the better, that the dark era of Ro-Da and her mate was really over.

At the end of her performance, with fur slightly singed from getting too close to the fire pretending to search for the elusive Fer-Na, Cor-Wag presented herself to the guests of honour and waited for their pronouncement.

Dylan, who had sat down for the performance, stood up again. "It is the tradition that an exceptionally well-told story should be marked with a gift to the Da-Lan who performed it. Usually something of value, like a set of quills with metal tips or a sheath of blank paper for writing new stories." The hunchbacked wolf began patting his clothing as he looked around. "I have come unprepared but there is one thing I think will be appropriate." He reached inside his loose shirt and pulled forth a leather package. He unrolled it to reveal a crossbow bolt. It was longer than usual, one of the razors from its tip was broken, and its feathers were stained with blood.

"This is the bolt that killed Annie. When you tell her story, which I will teach you before I go, you can produce it at the climax to show how the wicked blades it is tipped with ended the life of the sweetest wolf I have ever known." He held the bolt out to Cor-Wag. "Take it, Da-Lan, and keep it safe in the den where she will be buried."

Cor-Wag took the leather with the bolt resting on it, and reverently wrapped it back up before bowing to Dylan. A cheer for his generosity and her success broke out. It brought soothing tears of gratitude to her eyes, which had previously only experienced the burning tears of frustration and anger. She returned to her spot, making a wide circle around the wolf who was demanding the return of his gourd, which brought fresh laughter to the assembly.

As she sat and sipped from the gourd Dylan announced, "Let us finish eating and pour another round of drinks for everyone, except for your Da-Lan, and then I will tell you the story I promised." The crowd cheered more food and another barrel of beer was produced. Things would be scarce for a few weeks after this, but with the promised shipment of food they would be alright. Babbles of conversation broke out as the folk discussed the performance, the gift, and the new alliance that they had entered into.

Dylan sat back down. The wolves were moving around, catching up with old friends and telling each other about their memories of Annie. Some wandered over to where Cor-Wag was sitting in hopes of examining the fated cross bow bolt, but she kept it wrapped, only to be taken out when the time was right. A couple of young she-wolves, barely adolescents, came and sat on either side of Tig, fascinated by his small stature and outlandish outfit. He suffered their presence but between answering their questions he was giving the eye to a matronly she-wolf who had lost her mate early in the war. The matron smiled and stood up, came over and sat down ... beside Dead Eye. She drew him into a conversation about fox mating habits and the next time Dylan looked up they were gone. And that was alright also.

Roark leaned over so he could to speak into Dylan's ear without being overheard. "I'm sad to hear that you intend to leave. I was hoping to convince you to stay and become the alliance's official historian."

"It's tempting." Dylan replied. "But I am just a simple story teller."

"Where will you go?"

"First, I want to visit with everyone from the northern valley who was involved in the events of this year so that I can fill out the corners of that story. The mayor and max and the warrior who accompanied Bear Cat the day they discovered Darwin and Snowdrop. Then I want to talk with the southerners and get their side of the story, as well as whatever other tales they keep. I want to spend time with the foxes, learning their stories about the time of Renaud and since. I want to visit the canine libraries and spend time with the feline lore masters. But most of all, I want to go stay with Ray, Tom and George for a while, to learn all the stories of their age."

"That would take several lifetimes." Roark pointed out.

Dylan shrugged. "They have offered me the last dose of the potion that gives them everlasting life."

"Are you sure that is what you want?" Roark did not add that his old friend's decision might be a reaction to Annie's death, am attempt to prolong her memory, but he did look over to where her capsule stood to make his point.

"I'm sure, Roark, or at least sure enough to try. Who knows? I'll try it out for a millennia or two. Hell, I can always take up wrestling great bears for a hobby if life begins to bore me. You'll come visit me some time?

Roark wrapped an arm around his old friends shoulder. "We'll keep in touch. Now I think it is your turn to speak, before they all pass out."

Dylan stood, and the crowd gradually quieted down in anticipation. "I want to tell you about Annie, and her part in the adventures of this past year." He began. "But how can I describe the taste of her lips when we kissed in words that you will understand? How can I make you see how vibrant she was or the gleam in her eye when she looked at me? What about the joy in her laugh or that faint scent of strawberries that you could smell only if you buried your nose in the ruff of her neck? How can one express that? No matter how hard I try or how well I describe her each of you will form their own and slightly different image of her. But if you recall that image each time I mention her, and if that makes you smile fondly, sigh with regret, or weep because you will never have the chance to know her, than that is good enough."

Dylan began to pace around the inside of the circle, letting the fire silhouette his misshapen body. "She had eyes that shone like river stones. She was as fit as a warrior, and yet had breasts as soft as eider down. Her beauty was unsurpassed. She was quick to laugh and slow to anger, but unforgiving when she lost her patience with someone. She was kind and gracious to all she met, and treated everyone equally well until they proved themselves unworthy. She was perfection. She had many companions, but only one lover, and that was I."

He paused, and looked at the sky where the moon was just beginning to rise. "How I long to stroke her soft fur once again, to feel the warmth of her breath on my neck and the pressure of her body against mine."

One of the young she-wolves sitting beside Tig giggled, and somewhere in the crowd a young male made a rude noise.

"Ahh, but you grow restless." Dylan nodded in understanding. "You did not come here to hear of my love for her. You want to hear about the events that changed the world. But you must understand the story of my lost love and that of the change are one and the same. One could not have come about without the other, and vice-versa. Confused? No matter, all will become clear as the tale unfolds. This may take a while so I suggest that you make yourself comfortable."

He waited as a few of the listeners shuffled around.

"Ready? Then let us begin."

* * * * * * * * *

So that is how I came to find love and lose it, almost a thousand years ago in the year we mark as the founding of the new era. I see that the calendars they are producing these days have the years since then annotated as N.E. for New Era or B.N.E. for before then. Ahhh, there have been so many changes since, most of which you know about from studying your history. But if you have any questions...?

Yes, What? Yes, I do look more like a feral wolf than a person, although there were not many as ugly and misshapen as I. I look just as I did the day I drank their formula, a few months after I told this story for the first time ever. It was a shorter story then, because I had not filled in all the corners yet. But I have not changed since then, while the rest of the species continued to evolve into what you are today, becoming more human-like each generation, but not completely.

You have lost some things, claws for example. Many wish they still had them and wear fake ones in their place. But other things are not so regrettable, anal glands for instance; no one needs that little hygiene issue. I had George remove mine.

The serum my scientist friends produced was effective, but they could not account for every single strand of DNA. Some of our original features remained, those that proved useful. Tails for example. If you look in the records you will see that humans did not have them. But they seem to help provide balance and they are certainly useful for reading another's mood. And while some humans had more body hair than others, they were generally furless. Nowadays it the opposite, most people have at least a fine coat of down and some are outright furry. Tail styles and markings can be traced back to different species and breeds. Just looking around at you I can see a fox, two definite felines, three distinct dogs, one coyote, and two wolves, like me. But most of you are a mix of several species, because of what came after the war.

Because so many males were killed in the war there was no shortage of females from the north willing to go south, where the few females that were not killed defending the gap were infertile. Even the wart hogs found willing brides among those that appreciated their, uhm, exotic looks. Not all of those that went south were able to breed, but enough could. The longevity of those species was breed out in a few generations, although it is possible to find a few of the last born zoo creatures still living down by the bay once called San Diego. I suggest you visit them too, but bring some raw meat and bamboo if you want them to talk.

_Here in the north the species began to interact more. Those who were attracted to someone of another species were not as afraid to show their affection. Silver Tip and Aster may have been first inter-species couple, but the example set by Darwin and Snowdrop was more widely known, and resonated more among the common canines and felines of the valley. _

_ They had over a dozen children, all as beautiful as the first, and when they travelled, which they did frequently, they always brought a few along with them. The sight of those two, so obviously in love, and their clever, handsome children inspired a number of inter-species marriages. You might say that the peace between the species and the mixing of the bloodlines that reinforced the best traits was their legacy._

What happened to the rest? Well, you know about Roark being elected the first Chair of the Alliance Council. He came and visited me whenever business brought him to the southern valley. He met his spouse when he was called to judge on a female wolf who had disguised herself as a male to fight in the war and was only uncovered, so to speak, when she was wounded in the last battle. Roark admired her audacity and drive to be treated equally, if not her desire to achieve it by going to war. He pardoned her and appointed her as his advisor on sexual equality the same day. He married her within a year, in a small ceremony held here in the compound. Their descendants still hold important positions in the government, a sign of strong genes, I'm sure.

No, he did not wait for Aster to become a widow. And a good thing too, because retirement was good for Silver Tip, and he lived for almost thirty more years, making him the oldest fox ever, except maybe for Star Gazer, who never did admit how old she really was. They had three more children, and started a fad of interspecies marriage among well-to-do foxes of both sexes. Aster never did remarry after Silver Tip died, and by then there was no need to, the foxes were well established members of the Alliance and had left their petty power struggles behind them.

Dead Eye stayed in the mountains with the she-wolf he met the night of Annie's funeral. He spent his last years training young cubs who wanted to be guards when they grew up. Because even though the war was over there were a lot of starving and desperate creatures wandering the valley, and the need for guards was great for a time.

_Tig managed to escape the clutches of the adolescent wolves and accompanied me back here to the last human compound. He did not stay though, because adventure still called him, and there were no females here at the time. He had many interesting exploits after the war, but he was killed while quelling the coyote insurrection. You can find his complete story in "The Chronicles of Tig" written by his last lover, the Da-Lan Cor-Wag. _

The humans? About a hundred years after the war Tom fell in love with a vixen who had come down to clean and cook for us in exchange for room and board and an education. He spent several years developing a formula to reverse the effects of the longevity serum and finally succeeded in producing a small amount. He had to cut himself on the arm and watch the scar for a year to prove that it was working because he would not experiment on animals anymore. He bore the scar to his death forty some years later. Their descendants still bear a resemblance to him in that the lower portion of their faces are generally covered in reddish fur.

_Ray was devastated when his long-time debating opponent died and he took the formula also. But aging gracefully was not his style, and he ended his own life several years later. _

George is still here, as you know. He greets every group that comes from the universities to study when they arrive personally. He will be happily teaching and lecturing as long as there are students to listen to him. It's what he lives for.

Me? What more would you know about me? You ask if I am happy? Let's just say that I am not unhappy. I have not been without companionship, but I have shied away from long-term relationships, even now when I can reverse the serum's effects whenever I will. I am content to go on because if George lives to teach I live to tell stories, Annie's story in particular. As long as there are people who have not heard the story first hand, or first paw in my case, I'll go on telling it. Annie was my one true love, and that will be with me always.

Perhaps until the end of time.

* * * * * * * * *

Epilogue

Grork entered the clan lodge, carefully shutting and latching the door to leave the winter winds and the blowing snow outside. It was a new design, one that worked from both sides of the door without losing the seal around the jamb. He was proud of the latch, because he had thought the device up himself . He did know where the inspiration for it had come from, but it beat the old system of ropes and knots by a long shot. It was not the only thing Grork had invented, nor was inventing things his only pastime. He was also an explorer, and he had come to tell the rest of the clan what he had discovered on his latest travels.

They were already assembled. Grork took a position behind the podium carved to depict leaping salmon, where the clan leader held court and the seer prophesized. He shook his great shaggy brown head to clear it, rested his paws with their long claws on the podium, and then he began to speak.

"Mes collègues de la famille grand ours, je viens à vous avec des nouvelles incroyable." He addressed his fellow grizzlies. Then he proceeded to tell them of a valley far to the south, just as the legends had foretold, beyond the desolate land where their wild cousins roamed, and of the strange intelligent creatures that he had spied on there.