The Dragon and the Fox

 Jennica was out on a long camping vacation with her school friends when she met Issac.

The group brought their camping paraphernalia, music, books, and especially smoking weed. By the time Issac walked up to their camp one night, the group made a mess and more or less overstayed their welcome too close to his father's territory. Camping was clearly not something this bunch of humans did very often and he watched them do this for days before he finally approached. This group would catch hell from his kin—or worse, his father—if they cavorted around here any longer. Issac was also too curious for his own good.

The arrival of the strapping elfman with his black and dark-silver hair came as a shock to the campers initially. In the shock he took the opportunity to address them in the merchant tongue. Cutting to the point and kindly warning them they were in protected territory, which they should leave and find somewhere else to camp. One of the girls, a striking 16 year old with wild dark hazel eyes, subdued tonight by the weed she was slowly exhaling, chuckled at Issac, “Wow. Not nearly pretty as elves are supposed to be. I bet you could even piss standing!” Her and her friends snorted bursts of laughter.

He stood at the edge of camp confused over whether he should’ve been offended or not. Being cloistered among your own kin with only voyeuristic observations of other races didn't prepare him enough for interacting with them as he’d hoped. Issac was positively flustered, “Did you...” catching himself speaking elven, he corrected himself, “Are you trying to insult me?”

“Oh no, no! Don't be absurd!” Jennica practically bounced to her feet and swept over to him. Introducing him immediately to her friends and, of course, herself she took his hand and invited him to sit and partake. He followed but stood fast on his warning. They had to leave. She pouted, “But why? It's so nice here... Please let us stay. We're only here for a few more days then we're gone. We won't make a peep, promise.”

“I can't. You're careless with your campfire and your refuse.” Issac gestured his hand to the whole mess, “Once you return to the road, you'll find suitable camp grounds a day’s travel east or so. It's not hard to find. Really, I'll show you if you need.” Jennica broke out in a fit of snickers followed by her friends. Issac was beginning to rethink the polite approach. Maybe he and a few of his kin in their direfox forms should have chased them away, like the vixen suggested. His eyes darkened, he was considering it. Then Jennica brazenly kissed him. Through that, he found her true scent past all the smoke of her weed, something like lilies in summertime and a hearth in winter. A homey yet exciting scent. Her bawdy friends whooped and cheered her on. Catching himself in the distraction, he took her shoulders and removed Jennica from him, “Now you are insulting me.”

“Nonsense. I'm kissing you.” she walked from Issac, over to her bedroll. Slapping one of her friends across the back of his head when she passed, “My friends are just high. They'd laugh at changing seasons at this point.” Issac found himself following her while she picked up her bedroll and shook it out to roll it up. She giggled at the wince on his face when all her crap fell out of it and to the ground, “Relax. You're too handsome to be acting all nervous. Gotta make a mess to clean a mess.”

Issac watched as her friends reluctantly followed suit and began to sluggishly pack their camp. Leaning against a tree when the group took longer then he would've expected. At least they were packing the camp up, so there was an effort to heed his warning. Jennica approached him, lighting a rolled cigarette and offering it to him. He shook his head, “The smoke dulls my senses.”

“We'll that's the point isn't it? Besides, you're a wood elf, right?”

Issac slightly smiled, “Something like that.”

“Then you probably smoke this for breakfast! I got this from a reputable merchant all the way in Andruin who gets this particular grass from wood elves.” She took a drag, making it seem like her cigarette was absolutely amazing. When she exhaled, the smoke twirled with silky thickness against her cheeks and through her dark hair. Looking for all the world like the human form of a dragon. Ruddy cheeks, a heart-shaped face, and the arrogant air of confidence, who’s to say she wasn't a dragon in disguise? With a pleasing pout she offered the cigarette again, in elven, “It'll make us a little less nervous while you police our cleanup and all.”

He sighed with a smile to the very persuasive, very beautiful, human girl and accepted the cigarette. Taking a drag, holding it in as he considered the feel of it, then exhaling as he spoke, “Find yourself an honest dealer, Jennica. Wood elves don't grow crabgrass.” She guffawed, causing him to as well. Issac found her laughter delightful. Despite the rocky start, her and her friends were very easy to talk to. Chatting it up for a few hours he heard about their schooling and laughed genuinely at their jokes. It could’ve been the cigarette dulling the anxiousness. Either way, by the time they had the camp thoroughly packed and thoroughly cleaned, he was sad they had to go. Especially Jennica.

She buckled the last pack on the nag and looked over at Issac expectantly, “Aren't you coming?” He shook his head so she patted the horse and approached him. Drawing flirtatiously close and speaking quiet elvish, “You said you'd show us new camping grounds a day east. West. Or wherever.” That frown on his face, she hated to see such a look, “You'll make someone mad if you go, huh?”

The weed worn away an hour ago, he was glad to find her scent again. It would leave something to remember this by. He looked toward her face and spoke softly, “I would, I'm sure.”

“Oh Issac,” she grinned devilishly, “Make 'em mad.”

How could he say no? Issac hitched up on the cart along with Jennica bound eastward toward new campgrounds. His kin traveled outside from time to time. This was no different. His father would probably be glad Issac managed to get the humans out of his territory anyway. A few days away wouldn't raise the Werelord's ire. Even with a group of humans. The place he brought them to abut a watering hole fed by the Synteri River, but not too far from the surrounding towns by the main mercantile road which fed into Andruin. Most importantly, it was very out of the way from the vulpine territories. They didn't need to set tents here if they didn't want to. This was a rangers' timeshare that a ranger and fellow elf, Amirian, told Issac of many years ago. They were free to stay, so long as they didn't make a complete mess of the place.

A few days turned into the rest of the summer season. These suburbanites were welcoming, very eager to talk about themselves, their achievements, their families, and their goals. Happy to share what they brought or had to buy from a nearby town and curious about their new elven friend. Issac wasn't terribly forthcoming with information about himself, only implying that he was the son of a lord. However, he was an artist and a dabbling architect. But that's probably not what his father had in mind for him, so he enjoyed his hobbies quietly. Jennica scoffed, saying that he should pursue whatever the hell he wanted and not hide it. If she knew what kind of lord his father was she wouldn't be so brave, he thought. Issac couldn't help but smile though, looking at her face. Maybe she would be.

As the summer drew to an end, it was hard for Issac not to harbor romantic feelings for Jennica. He spent more time with her then any of his new friends. For one, she spoke elven better. She was beautiful, of course. Most attractively, she was free-thinking and intelligent. During the penultimate summer night, Issac sat by the edge of the water watching the rope swing in the warm breeze. The rope they used to launch themselves into the water like a bunch of careless children looked like a black snake dangling against the moonlight. He would miss this place. These people. Suddenly he sensed eyes on him and tensed. He didn't see the amber glint of his kin anywhere but that didn't mean they weren't there. He scoffed quietly to himself in elven, “You had me followed?”

“Who had you followed?”

Issac spun, startled by Jennica who was standing there in the moonlight. Startled that he didn't notice her. Unless, was it her whom he sensed? “My... whoever I angered, I suppose.” He was still tense when she took a seat next to him, lit a cigarette, took a drag, then offered it to him. He accepted but it was a long pause before he calmed and smoked it. The exhale was just as long, “It'll be hard to forget my season here. I had fun, Jennica. Really...” in a most respectful elven dialect, “...Thank you.”

“How dare you speak to me so formally,” she giggled, taking the cigarette back to share it, “You talk like we'll never see you again.”

“You won't.” Issac saw that cheerful expression fade out of the corner of his eye. The moonlight had a way of outlining with such sharpness. He wished it didn't amplify this look on her face now. “Must you make goodbye so hard to say? I have to return home, Jennica. I shouldn't have left.”

“Then why did you come?”

“Because--” Exasperated, he looked her full in the face, her beautiful, intelligent face that waiting knowingly for the evident answer. Smoke trickled slowly from her nose. Jennica the dragon. He sighed, disarmed, “Because you told me to.”

She smiled at last, blowing smoke sidewise, “Do you always do what you're told?”

“More or less.” he said with a chuckle, taking back the cigarette.

“So if I tell you to meet us again next summer, you'll do it? I'll even get real wood elf weeds this time. I'll also ask the elves who run rampant in Andruin for the best place to bring an elven noble like yourself. Or we can go to my parent's dockside home, drink some of the dwarven vintage father hides in his study, and you can paint me naked. They won't be home, though, I promise. ”

Did she just say naked? “Stop, Jennica, I can't...” Her face scrunched defiantly. She snatched the cigarette from his mouth and extinguished it in the dewy sod. Issac rolled his eyes, “Don't be petulant.”

“I'll be however I like! Unlike you, I don't always do what I'm told.” she looked at his hand as he grabbed her arm. Did he think she was going to get up and leave? She scoffed and pushed him down upon sod with a free hand, drawing close to him, “I'm not gonna run off to cry like some elfish tart. So don't treat me like one.” When she moved to lean off him he strengthened his grip on her arm. How she smiled at him, dipping into that bumpkin elfish dialect she favored, “I want you, you know. And I wanna see you again. I'm no long lived creature, Issac, I don't have time to cry. You don't wanna see me then say so and leave. But don't lie to me and say you 'can't'. You can if you want. So...” she perked up, straddling his lap, “If I tel—If I ask you to meet me next summer... will you?”

Moving his grip from her arm and resting it on her waist, he smiled up at her. “You're a hard woman to say no to. I guess I'll have to say yes then.” He ran his thumb along the cold material of her thin sleeping gown. Bunching the material into his hands, playing with it, subconsciously pulling it gently down, “When summer arrives, where do I meet you?”

She shrugged the laced straps from her shoulders as he pulled, letting the gown slip down past her chest and fall into her lap. Jennica freed her arms from the gown, her small breasts bare to the moonlight. Certainly a sight more fitting for the silvered sharpness of the evening hue then a miserable face. It was the first time Issac saw her body this way. Not teasing in wet clothes while swimming in the water or clinging in the rain. Honest, soft, and bare from the waist up. Seemed to be the most natural thing in the world to her, she wasn't shy about it. Confident as always, in fact. She threw her long dark hair in front of her breasts to regain his attention, “Can't we meet in your forest again?”

Eyes wryly glanced up to meet hers, “We shouldn't, Jennica. Please, another place. Any place you pick but that, and I’ll be there the first day of summer waiting for you. I promise.” Prepared for a protest but glad not to receive one from her, he laid there relieved. Admiring her as her face animated into thoughtful expressions. She nodded, respecting his desire to keep his home private. After all, Issac wouldn't be the first elven noble whose family wasn’t thrilled with their human friends. He let her remove his shirt and toss it beside them.

Using him as a makeshift map, she explained where they would meet. Andruin wasn't a place unheard of. Issac hadn't personally been there, but the roads that lead towards the city-state were very familiar, as was the Synteri River. He traveled them on occasion with his kin. She drew her fingers across the swell of his shoulder, “We are here.” running her fingers along his collar bone toward the middle of his chest between the dip of his pectorals, representing the mercantile main road. They trailed further downward, nails tickling and flourishing on occasion across his ribs then his abdomen while she explained the various villages, towns, and stop offs that existed near the road and the kind of things they could do there during the summer. Jennica grinned at his firm-jawed attempts at not being ticklish, finishing her journey along this 'road' just shy of his navel. “This is my town. The main road runs right though it. Dad says 'whoever engineered it that way were greedy geniuses’. He should know. The man's a ranking marshal at the Artisans and Architects Guild that helped build that road before I was even a twinkle in his eye.” They both shared a chuckle she gleefully interrupted. Running her fingers past his navel and beneath the waist of his pants, “From there you just follow the road and you'll find...” drawing her lips close to Issac's, he gasped when her hand settled on-- “...Andruin. It's a very nice place... if you wanna go.” Very clearly not speaking of roads or the cities they lead to anymore. Issac and Jennica spent the night passionately together. They were wild, young, and hardly quiet about it. Taking a break for a much needed dip in the water where their passions ultimately continued from there. Before the dawn, they both fell asleep. Spent and exhausted by each other beneath the cooler sod of an old tree. And when Jennica woke up, Issac was gone.

For Jennica, summer took forever to come. For Issac it came in an instant the very moment he saw her walking in her town's market with her friends. Armed only with a traveling pack and dressed in dark colored, finely made elven traveling attire, he leaned against the support beam of a kiosk. Letting himself become very noticeable in the crowd. She was cheerful before. But when she caught sight of Issac, her face lit up! Mid-conversation with a friend, she tore past them all and ran over to Issac who dropped his bag to catch her when she leapt into his arms. He lifted her into a healthy embrace.

“Issac!” she kissed his cheeks, “I was scared you wouldn't come!”

“Nonsense. I promised, didn't I?”

“Well I’m glad you did... or I'd have set your silly secret forest on fire.”

“Goodness!” Issac laughed richly, “I'm not sure what impresses me more, that you'd say that or that I'm convinced you'd actually do it.”

This whole summer was as amazing as the last. Perhaps because it was, it felt much shorter. Issac stayed with Jennica at her parent's dockside house along with her friends. Some of those friends he recognized from last summer and some who were new, even meeting Jennica's cousins as well. Issac found a lot in common with a handful of her cousins and struck up conversations he found fascinating regarding the engineering of underground cities and such. She brought around her elven beau practically everywhere, introduced him to everyone. It was impressive, the amount of friends she accumulated in her short years compared to those he had back home. Issac was no slouch socially. Though he was a bit more comfortable carrying on conversations in elven rather then the human's tongue. Nevertheless, happily social. When they both found time alone, even if they had to steal it, they were heavily into each other. On occasion he had to cover her mouth since she was often 'vocal'. He chidingly joked to her at one point, “They'll think I'm assaulting you, Jennica. Heaven sake!”

Another summer. Another night. They returned from a festival. Issac used face paints Jennica purchased for him with her back as the canvas. She insisted on it. What other thing could have possibly fit on her but a dragon? All grace, fire, smoke, and green-lined black scales dancing in front of the moon. When he was done, he brought her in to the vanity and handed her a hand-held mirror to scrutinize his work. It was beautifully rendered, almost dancing with her as she moved. An admiring smirk caught her, “A dragon? Is that what you think of me?”

He frowned, “You don't like it.”

“Don't be absurd, I love it. You're so dramatic.” Moving her hair out of the way to get a better look, she snaked her hips about playfully. Making the dragon dance, “Why a dragon?”

“You smoke too much?” Issac braced the wineglass when she hit his arm. He laughed.

“Have you ever met a dragon before?”

Shrugging, he shook his head, “I don't know anyone who has. Not to my knowledge.”

“Not even your father?” she took up a glass of wine and walked naked to her closet to find a dress with a low back, “He's an elf lord isn't he? Bound to have lived long enough to meet one. I bet a dragon is his best friend if your father is anything like you.”

“Hmph. If he's ever met a dragon, he's never told me.” Issac muttered. Aware of the dour shift in his tone, Jennica peeked out of the room as she slipped on a dress with the lowest back she could find. Fixing her tits for good measure as she walked over to him, not fooled by the smile and compliments he offered to change the subject. She asked him what was wrong. “Wrong? Now who's being dramatic?” he scoffed before he sipped his wine.

Jennica huffed a sigh, “Look I'm sorry. But you never bring him up. You never even talk about your family. I'm just throwing guesses to the wind here. If I say something wrong, you gotta let me know.” She watched him nod complacently, but that wasn't enough, “Issac, you know so many things about me but I know squat about you! Three summers and all I know is that you're the son of a 'traditional' elf lord—whatever that means. That your elven dialect is strange, even for an elf. That you're an artist who likes architecture and you get aroused when I call you 'a beast'.” Issac flushed at her candid nature even though no one but him was there to witness it. She crossed her arms with a nettlesome expression on her face, “I wanna meet him.”

“Out of the question.”

“Don't break into your elf-speak like I need chiding. I think I should know more about the man whose name I've screamed for the past two and a half summers!” she followed him as he walked past her to fetch some more wine for the glass he quickly downed with a dark expression. “I've met plenty of elves and their 'traditional' parents and they love me! They say I speak elven naturally and I'm just damned delightful to be around!”

“You call this behavior 'delightful'?” he scoffed” I've not met your parents. You dare scold me?”

“Oh please, they go away every summer. You want to meet them?” opening her arms as if she'd welcome a scrap, “I invite you! Stay through to autumn and you'll meet them.” Hissing in elfish, she imitated his dialect mockingly, “I've got nothing to hide.”

Delightful? More like draconic! It's not the first argument the two ever had but it was the first one that tore into his comfort zone. He wanted to tell her about his family, his home, and his father. But that would never happen, no matter how much he loved her. Issac slammed both bottle and glass onto the table with a bang. Tempers flared hot breath through his nose. But he kept his voice calm and the vulpine blood subdued, “There will never come a day where you will meet my father or my family. To them, you're a passing fad.” he looked over at her and she stood shocked at his casual response. “I bet to him the sooner I'm finished with you, the better. They don't want to meet you. In fact, they wish I never did in the first place! Because, according to them, you're distracting me from my family duties! If I told you any more then you already know they'd--” He shuddered before he said any more. He picked up the wine bottle and drank from it as he never poured himself a glass. It felt like a while passed. Still she didn't respond. Eventually she quickly wiped her eyes before tears fell and he felt like a monster for making her shed those tears. He brought his hand toward her face and she flinched at it, but didn't slap it away like she wanted to. Truth is she spent that long moment gauging why she was really mad. If she was going to hit him, it was because she was mad at him. This wasn't his fault. But she really wanted it to be. Issac cleared the tears from her cheeks with his thumb and spoke with such sincere softness, “You're the finest thing in my life, Jennica. I don't care what they want from me. They can wait. If I learned anything from your 'dangerous' influence it's that I'll spend as many summers with you as I like. Please lets not be this way?”

She sniffled, blushed, and withdrew to fix her face, “I'd kick your father squarely between the legs if I could, you know. His high and mighty elven ass can hang for all I care. How can a person not like someone they never even met?” she took the bottle, pouring what was left, “To tell hell with him.”

Another summer passed blessedly free of the mire over the mystery of his family this time. He went home as he had done three summers before, swearing to meet her again the summer next. While home, he got a sense of apprehension from a handful of his kin. But he brushed it off. Given the breadth of a vulpanthrope lifetime, their behavior would wane. One of his closest kin expressed concern over his seasonal obsession. Distressingly, he'd yet to take a vixen. Issac told those who asked what they wanted to hear, that he was just dabbling in a curiosity. Nothing more. Besides, his father never raised any voice of concern or showed that he knew what his son was up to. And no one, especially Issac, was likely to seek out such answers.

Deep into autumn of that year, very nearly winter, one of his close-knit kin, a vixen, approached Issac as he hunted in the wood. She informed him of a young human woman, alone and dangerously close to his father's forest, crying out Issac's name. “That obsession of yours has come to meet you early, my brother.”

“Jennica? Here?”Issac's vulpine face went alight with excitement... then alarm, “I-I'm sorry, my sister, I'll take care of this.”

“See that you do.” the vixen noted with concern how Issac bounded away. His was not a gait of a fox that had to cull a fleeting obsession. This foolish tod was in love. With a human, of all things! Giving him enough space to think he was alone, she soon followed after him.

Issac arrived into the clearing his human friends carelessly used four-or-so years ago to camp in. Donning his handsome elven form, cloaked in furs and leathers to ward off the cold his vulpine coat would otherwise protect him from. He found Jennica standing there dressed in a thick suede and fur riding coat with her hood drawn. Her head rested against the saddle of her horse, looking exhausted. Admittedly, Issac was thrilled to find her out here. Forgone was the need to hide the sound of his approach as it crunched autumn leaves. He even chuckled a bit in disbelief at seeing her here, “What in the world are you doing here? I promised to return in the summer. You know this forest is--” She turned. The look on her face made his heart stop. Reddened nose, flushed cheeks, her eyes so full of woe. He was taken aback, “W-what's wrong?”

Seeing him there, she let out a shuddering sigh. Tears began to uncontrollably stream down her face as she gripped the strap of her saddle. She choked, “M-my mother is dead.” then she lost her knees. Issac quickly caught her before she could fall completely. She sobbed with unrestrained agony into the furs of his coat, burying her head to his chest. He couldn't make out everything she said as she sobbed. It all sounded unintelligible. He opened his coat and drew her into it, wrapping it around her and kissing the top of her head. Inquiring gently what happened? Did someone kill her mother? He promised they would pay! But no, it was an accident. A horse pulling a cart got spooked and ran the woman down. Just a terrible senseless accident. Her voice hiccupped as she tried to speak through sobbing, “You'll never meet her—I wanted you to meet her! I was gonna ask them to stay in this summer so-so they could meet you. C-cuz' I talk a lot about you. They wanted to—It was—I was going to surprise you. Now I... now she... Mom is--!”

Issac's eyes wept in stoic sympathy, he couldn't help it, “W-why did you come all the way here?”

“I don't know. I thought if I saw you... Father told me she was dead and I just left. I took his horse and left. I know your family will kill me but I don't care. I had to see you.”

“Don't be ridiculous, they won't kill you.” Using a sleeve, he wiped her tears and spoke in soft, familiar elven tones, “Your father is grieving too. He'll need you more then you need me. You must return home, Jennica. There are rituals that must be observed to assure her peaceful passing.”

“Come with me... Please? I can't go back there alone.” she saw his face fall to apprehension as well as pity. He tried to remind her that she'd plenty of family back home. That she'd hardly be alone in her grief. She powered through the lump in her throat. It felt like fire to speak, “You're always so damn strong. So mysterious. So untouchable. I want that. I want what you have! If I go home and I see my father I-I’ll just break down. I can't do that to him, not when he needs me to be strong. I need you. I need your help. I'm begging you. Don't send me out there alone.”

Issac glanced around then nodded. Perhaps he always did what he was told after all? Issac didn't need to ask permission to come and go as he pleased. So why did it feel like he was flying in the face of his wary kin by just joining Jennica on her horse and riding off with her? He knew he'd ride away with her the moment he saw her despair. Judging by the amber glint of a watching direfox, they probably knew as well. So would his father. He gripped Jennica closer to him as she pulled his jacket around her. At last, her heart was at ease. Which was good, for his was not.

It was a terrible way to meet the father of the one you love. The man saw his daughter and was overjoyed she was safe. Thanked the elf he instantly deduced as 'this Issac he'd heard so much about'. Issac remained through the autumn before he knew it. Cursing to himself for being so absent minded about the passing time, but convincing himself he had a higher purpose here. His presence gave Jennica strength, she wasn't kidding about that. And her father, whom to his insistence was to be referred to as 'Mac', spoke with the elf often. Sometimes at length from the morning well into the afternoon about his late wife, his guild, his daughter, and all he heard about the elf. The man never had a son of his own, so it was nice to talk to, what he referred to as, a 'like-minded man'.

When winter arrived it arrived heavily. Issac could leave if he wanted but he chose to stay through it. Assisting Jennica, her father, and on occasion, her cousins as well. He found time to be amorous with Jennica when they could. But because Mac was living there, Issac respectfully slept on a loveseat in the sitting room every night. Winter passed onward and his father's territories hardly mastered his mind anymore. Absently one day as he helped carry food back to the house, he let it slip and referred to this place as 'home'. Not noticing he did since it just came and went in jocular conversation with Jennica. But watchful eyes did notice...

Winter's thaw eventually came. Rainy and miserable. Every day was steel gray and every night overcast and starless. The moon was hidden from him and those nights were fret with startling nightmares. One broke into his mind so violently, Jennica had to wake him from it. That his dreams woke Jennica from all the way in her room shocked him. “I have to return home.” he threw the knitted blanket from him and groggily moved to gather his traveling clothes from her room.

“Yes, yes, of course.” She followed, just as sleepy as he was. Given a moment to gather her head she stopped him as he threw on a vest before his shirt. She snorted when he realized the state of his dress and proceeded to assist his efforts to dress properly. “Is something the matter?”

What was the right word? He searched his mind for the human equivalent but found only one sharing the purpose of what he felt, “It's... homesickness.” She seemed to understand. Eventually, with her help, he was ready to go. They couldn't find his coat so he dismissed it. Their frazzled efforts brought them from anxiety to tired laughter. Why all the worrying? Of course he had to go home! He'd be back in the summer. And if she managed to find his coat, she could return it then. Bringing her in by the small of her back and pressing her soft body against him, he kissed her romantically before he reluctantly drew away and left that very night.

She walked to the window to watch him go but didn't find any trace of him. The night was inky black but his departure should have shown his back as he moved away from the window's light. Nothing. It's as if he was never there. Then she noticed at last... he never took a horse.

Summer arrived but Issac did not. A month passed and it was nearly the end of another. Jennica became convinced before too long that he wouldn't return. She refused to cry about it at first. He was an elf, what did she expect? Time was a luxury their kind could afford to loose. Issac tended to be absent minded sometimes, he probably simply... forgot. It was easier to be angry then face sadness.

One night while breaking out the cold gear, she found his coat hanging among her father's jackets. Sadness welled then. She locked herself in her room, laid with it in her bed, and cried quietly into it until she went to sleep. Jennica kept that misery to herself though, showing a brave and confident face to the world. Only in the evening when she was alone did she curl up against the furs of his coat and found the ease of rest.

At times she criticized herself for acting like a lovesick tart, very nearly throwing the coat away at one point. But she couldn't bring herself to do something so rash. What if he returned? When her father came to her out of worry, she chuckled and ribbed him for it. Grief needed to run its course, Mac understood that better then anyone. So he gave the usual 'If you need me, dolly, I’m here for you' speech. She kissed his cheek and thanked him for his love and concern.

That year passed and so did the following summer. It wasn't long until that summer began to chill, heralding the approach of a newborn autumn. Vocational schooling in addition to tending the house was now Jennica's responsibility since her mother was gone. Unfortunately, the season's change brought wet weather again. It was hell on some professions more then others. So her father was holed up in guild affairs to figure out what to do with all the idle working hands the weather tied. Jennica was bringing in the porch lamps so rainwater wouldn't mix with the oil when she saw Issac. Sopping wet, his boots were ruined, standing a few feet from the porch steps with a hopeless and miserable expression. There stood a man who would disintegrate if he was turned away. She couldn't believe her eyes. Realizing it was him, truly Issac. She had the good sense to set the oil lamps down before she enthusiastically ran to him and leapt into his arms. What a relief her reaction was! He wrapped his arms tightly around her, kissed her head, and whispered endless apologies. They kissed and she noticed tears mixing with the rain on his face. Bringing him to the protective canopy of the porch, she used whatever was dry on her to wipe the wetness from his cheeks. Not asking him what was wrong or what happened, but he answered her curiosity anyway.

“I have nowhere to go. I'm--” he winced slipping into elven, “I'm a 'nomad' now.”

The handkerchief slowly lowered. Her heart hurt for him. She knew, whatever must have happened while he was gone, she held a lot of the blame for it. Damn, she shouldn't have begged him to come. She could have waited until the summer. Instead she dragged him here and never once reminded him when his stay ran long. In her grief she got greedy. Nothing was mentioned of her guilt though, not even in her expressions. He'd only dismiss it, even if it were true. “I found your coat.” she said.

It made him smile a little, “Somehow I knew you would. A coat would be great right about now.”

“I kept it warm for you.” she took his hand and led him inside toward the hearth. In her tone, it was if he never left, as if he had simply come home, “I'm preparing stew, so I hope you're hungry. Oh, father will be so thrilled to see you when he gets back!”

The door shut with a gentle click behind them both.

By then it'd been four years since Issac showed up homeless and soaked on her doorstep. He'd integrated himself contently into a new life here. Issac was made to go through some vocational schooling. His natural talent and interest for architecture and engineering along with his rapport with Mac, a ranking guild marshal, helped him secure a place in the A&A Guild. Issac earned a living taking manual labor jobs until his place in the guild was secure. Once it was, he was invited in to consult on some major projects. His unique perspective proved to be invaluable. And he was someone who the Andruin elves preferred to speak to. When opportunities came, Issac jumped at them. Mac admired the elf's enthusiasm. Perhaps his daughter poured more influence on the elf then he gave her credit for? One could see where Jennica inherited her free-thinking mind. Her father was tolerant to say the least. After a year living with them, Mac approached them both, clearly wise to their amorous shenanigans. It made little sense to make the elf sleep on the loveseat a room away from her if they weren't going to adhere to the courtesy of a little courtship. Maybe it was because the loss of his own wife years ago that opened his perspective a bit. He patted Issac's shoulder when the elf downcast his eyes embarrassed and somewhat ashamed to be caught. Mac chortled, “You two, buy a bigger bed and sleep in it. You both are keeping me up at night.”

They had a birthday party to celebrate Jennica's 24th year, a gathering of Jennica and Issac's friends at the rangers' timeshare near the watering hole. It wasn't typically the way a place like that was used but Jennica wanted to be here, so she got it. Issac arranged a full week long affair that any passing traveler could—and did—join on. One who happened upon the festivities was Amirian, the elven ranger Issac learned about this place from. Issac was surprised and honestly relieved to find an old familiar face. They only shared camp two, maybe three, times. But elven friendships spanned differently then human friendships did. Elven friendships were patient. When Issac first met Amirian, Jennica wasn't even born yet. Amirian shook his head, amused at the kind of use this timeshare had gone through, “My friend, when I told you about such places, I never dreamed you would use one as a summer home.”

“This is only for the week.” Issac kissed Jennica's hand, “She insisted on it.”

Jennica pursed her lips in a kittenish smile, “It's where we first made love. Wild and noisy by that very tree over there.” she pointed, “We also defiled the waters with our passionate lovemaking. Unfortunately, years of rain have purified the waters since.” Wine perfumed her titter when Issac pulled his candid love close to playfully scold her ear.

“Can't have that, can we?” Amirian laughed.

“Certainly not! I plan on making love with him there until my legs are numb. They'll need to call a cleric to bless the place by the time I'm done with him. I plan on being positively wicked.” Issac's blush deepened considerably and he whispered something softly—something wicked—right back at her. She gasped a laugh and slapped his shoulder, “Where did you learn such language?”

“From the best.” Issac grinned handsomely, watching as she pleasantly excused herself to be among her friends. There was a lot of catching up to do. So Issac shared his fire, his food, and his wine with Amirian. Doing what elves did best, converse about time passed too quickly. Because Amirian was the only other person to know Issac was a werefox aside from himself, he confided in the elf over the whole miserable ordeal, his home, his kin, his father. Honestly, it was a significant weight off his shoulders to be able to tell someone about it. Issac apologized for introducing such a dour subject into the conversation. It was rude to shovel distress so selfishly onto a friend.

Amirian accepted the apology, insisting it wasn't necessary, “No man should harbor such pain alone. Not even our kind. I grieve for your loss.” He sipped the wine and looked with Issac out to the sprightly dark haired human woman dancing with her friends, “She's a lively catch, that one.”

Issac smiled warmly, “She's the finest creature... I'm going to ask her to be my wife.”

“Congratulations, friend.” Amirian raised a glass to him sincerely. Not broaching the sorrows of loving a human or of outliving them, and possibly his own children. If Issac was thinking of asking for her hand, then the elf was more the likely aware of the risk. His smile quietly hid pity for Issac. Their glasses met with a tink and they finished their wine. Amirian helped himself to another and poured Issac's his as well, “It may be rude to ask, forgive me if it is, but does your lover know about you?”

Issac rested the wine glass in cupped hands, leaning forward with a deep sigh, “I plan on revealing myself to her before I ask her hand.”

“Right before? That's one hell of a proposal.” Amirian chuckled at the preposterous notion. Someone had to lighten the fireside conversation. “My advice? Save the reveal for when it's not her birthday. Don't let her dancing and cavorting fool you, humans take birthdays very seriously. Even a creature like that would never forgive you if you ruined her day.” The expression on Issac's face... that lovesick tod honestly never considered that? Amirian set the wine bottle aside and offered a disarming smile, “I wish you all the world's luck. May you populate your homestead with an entire litter of half-breed kits.” They both laughed, happy to drink to that!

He waited for a night when Mac would be inundated with guildhall meetings, fiddling with the delicate ring while he sat in the worn loveseat. Issac played out the scenario several times in his head to prepare himself for every possible avenue of rejection. Confident Jennica would be accepting, she'd been so accepting and open of just about everything else. It's not as if he would 'fox out' or even assume that natural form ever again. He gave all that up for her years ago. What's the worst she could say to his proposal? No? Well... he hoped she didn't say that. Marriage might've been as symbolically important to humans as it was to him. Children certainly were. If children were a possibility, he needed to be honest with her. She had to know what she was accepting into her life. The front door closed and Issac hid the ring, taking a deep breath. He stood when she entered the sitting room.

“Well, hello to you too, handsome.” she threw her coat on a couch and flopped down on it.

“I have to talk to you.”

She rested her arm across her eyes, “Can it wait? Today's been hell. Oh, I wish you cooked something... I am just scrapped of energy right now.”

“It can't. It's very important.” His insistence didn't remove her arm from her eyes, it only made her sigh. Good time, bad time, an 'appropriate time' didn't exist where he could reveal himself to her. So he pressed, “It's about... My family we're... I'm a fox, Jennica.”

She peeked out from under her arm and snorted, “A what?”

“I'm a fox.” he dropped his hands to his sides with a slap. Maybe it would be clearer if he explained in elven, “I'm a changeling, a fox changeling. I can morph into this,” indicating himself, “a fox, and a mixture between the two. At will.” Baiting his breath for some kind of reaction from 'Jennica the Dragon' and all he got was her sitting up. It was a start.

“You can... change into a fox? I don't understand.” She did, but the statement wasn't truly coalescing into sense for her. A chuckle blurted from her because she didn't know how to respond to him. And he looked so damn eager for a response, “So...?”

He knelt before her to meet her eyes, “I want to devote my heart to yours. I ache to give you children. I want you to be my wife, Jennica.” Her eyes went expectantly wide with the proposal, any girl's would. He was incredibly dashing in that very moment, even with distress painting the walls behind his blue eyes. “But you must know what I am, what our children will inherit. I'll share my secret with you. I'll give you everything. I'll give you more!”

Both elated and rightly confused, despair was the last thing she expected in his tone from a possible marriage proposal. She heard of changelings... Druids could change into cats and badgers and such. Was Issac from a family of elven hermits? Letting out a huff through her nose, she didn't see what the big deal was. She crossed her arms and looked wryly at his furrowed brows and big waiting eyes. “Well... Foxes are cute aren't they? Big deal, what are you, like, some druid or something? Your family doesn't like city folk? Are our children gonna inherit a clearing somewhere?” She couldn't help but laugh, “Issac, this is a terrible proposal!”

Feeling a little relieved at her usual candor, he even shared her laugh. Becoming a little less formal, he felt she may really, honestly, not give a damn what he was. Why did he even worry? He took her hands as she moved to get up, smiling at her playful indigence, “I swear it's true. I'm really a fox.”

“Oh, a fox. Really?” She rolled her eyes, “Prove it then.”

And he did. His eyes ambered. His nose and mouth elongated. Hair spread from his hairline to cover his face and travel in a wave of furry black and silver growth across every visible part of his skin. His teeth sharpened. His very fingers grew claws while he maintained a gentle grip on Jennica's hands. A grip that, to his shock, she ripped away from him. She nearly kicked him in order to get away as an indescribable terror gripped her face. When the change to his hybrid form was complete she was at the other end of the room scrambling to arm herself. Issac stood, holding out his hands in what was supposed to be a gesture of peace. What Jennica saw in her panic was a monster bearing his claws. A fiery eyed, black and silver beast that began to slowly approach her. She screamed a scream Issac never dreamed he'd ever hear from her. And it was because of him. “J-Jennica, calm yourself please. It's all right. It's just me. I'm still Issac.”

His voice was his and at the same time it was something else. Something unworldly that hammered home the terror pulsing hot in her veins. Welling tears of fear in her eyes. She gripped a poker from the hearth, “Don't come near me!” pointing the poker towards him when he didn't listen, “I said don't come near me! Stay there!” Her voice quivered into an uncontrollable whimper in spite of trying to put bravery into her threats, “Stay away from me—don't touch me—don't hurt me!” She was shaking, really shaking.

Issac was beside himself, “I won't hurt you. I-I'd never hurt you... Jennica, please... I love you.” One last time he cautiously attempted to approach her and this time she tore away in a panic to the closest room. Locking herself in. His ears caught the sound of her stabbing the door closed with the poker, barring it with the nearest dresser, and retreating to the farthest side of the room. No doubt she'd already armed herself with another makeshift weapon expecting him to come bursting through like some... monster. Issac leaned his head against the door, gently brushing the cold lacquered wood with his padded fingers. What filled him with the most agony was hearing her quivering whimper as she tried to keep quiet and still. Trying to hide from him. Was nothing here ever his? All he had was nothing? They couldn't have been right... He wanted to beg her to be reasonable. He thought to wait her out. Then what? Appeal to Mac and hope he didn't draw a blade against him too? It'd been so long since he assumed his natural form, if he could call it natural. This form was now a tomb trapping him from the one he loved. He appealed one last time, “...I'll turn back, Jennica. Please open the door.”

“You're not a fox, you're a werewolf!”

“No Jennica, please I'll--”

“--How could you not tell me you're from a family of monsters! Oh god... They're all like you...” Her fear caught her. All the times she heard of his narrow-minded and secretive father. All the times he alluded to his family. That if she knew about them they'd—my god they hated her. If she knew about him, they'd kill her! She knew too much already! She screamed, “SHUT UP! I DON'T WANNA KNOW! I DON'T CARE! GET OUT! GET OUT!!”

Air flew from his lungs. He stood there for a heartbeat as it sunk in. His hand dropped from the door limply to his side. Nothing was left for him here anymore...

Hours later Mac arrived home to find Issac's clothes folded neatly on the loveseat, the ring sitting atop the pile. It was a strange place to put clothes. These two tended to throw their clothes about, not fold them with consideration for a neat and tidy household. He picked up the ring, not Issac's size and clearly an engagement ring. Eventually after a brief search of the house he found Jennica holed up in her and Issac's room, scared. So he hugged her and listened to what on earth happened. It was shocking news, yes, but she didn't seem hurt. Jennica cried. The moment her fear got the better of her she regretted it! But she was too terrified to go out and stop him from leaving. Now Issac was gone and unlikely to return. She gently took the ring from her father and looked at the delicate thing, “He was really trying to propose to me... I'm an idiot. I'm such an idiot.” Mac reassured her that he'd be back. She just humiliated him. A man can recover from that. She shook her head, slipping the ring on her finger, “I hurt him so badly, dad. He's not like other men or elves. He'll never come back.”

“I'm sorry, dolly...”

“I know where to find him. I'm gonna go get him..” she stopped when Mac caught her arm. Going after him wasn't a bad idea but she wasn't likely to convince him to return if she slighted his trust like a hammer in a glass shop. Least not that he'd suppose. He convinced her that, if she was insistent on going, he'd be allowed to get her a horse and proper supplies for her journey. Just give him a day to round all this up for her. He wouldn't have her running off like last time.

“Issac doesn't seem like the type to be found unless he wants to. You might not find him, dolly. You must prepare yourself for that as well.” He saw her face. She didn’t hear him. She didn't care. But she relented and retired to her big empty bed to try and find sleep. Only by curling up with Issac's jacket did what little sleep finally come.

Issac didn't keep track of time. Days were just weather bleeding in and out from torrent to calm. From warm to cold. He felt the growth of the moon to it's peak and the voided absence before it's rebirth. Unsettling him, stripping away his meat to leave meditative emptiness. He rested himself high upon the thick limb of an oak tree in a forest that wasn't his. Who knows what forest this was? He never investigated it's owner if it had one. He hadn't reverted back to his elven form since he left home. This place wasn't without it's traffic of passer-byes. As a fox he wasn't disturbed, as he preferred.

Home... Home wasn't even the skin he lived in anymore.

The wind shifted eastward, bringing with it a familiar scent. He barely opened his eyes to consider it. The vixen. Standing to be seen a few feet away from his big oak tree. What perked his head up was seeing her in her elven form. Jet black hair and honey colored eyes. No other color dared flush the skin of her cheeks or give her lips an inviting hue. Surprisingly, she even wore clothes. A dark gray, long sleeved, functional homespun dress with no vacuous decorations. Her expression tinted with scrutiny, raising her brow at the tod in the tree. Unamused.

His thoughts communicated with hers. It was the only way to speak while in his direfox form. Such interaction made concealing emotion impossible and there was no hiding the subliminal tones of outrage and surprise as he spoke to her, “My sister! Why are you—You sought me out? My father, he sent you to fetch me. Like a dog.” he growled, “Damn him and damn you!”

The vixen's voice rung with dark velvet, “You're mistaken, my brother. My lord doesn't think of you.” Fetching a small tied bundle in one hand, she gently lifted the skirt from her bare feet with the other. Walking fully, gracefully into view. “I've brought you a gift.” She placed the bundle at the base of the tree and took a step back. Issac leapt down to investigate its contents: Clothes. Bewildered, he looked up at her and she painted a cordial smile on her face. “It's an appropriate offering. They'll fit you, I promise. Please, do me the courtesy of donning it? I've paid you the consideration of this pointless modesty. So sully your noble coat in my presence no longer.”

Issac swallowed outrage over her insult, took the bundle in his mouth, and left to 'don her gift'. The vixen followed him and watched him change into his elven form, then the clothes. Through her honey-eyed gaze, Issac felt bare, “Why are you here if not by my father's will?”

“Your obsession. The one you named Jennica...” The vixen found a seat on a moss covered stone, gesturing for him to sit across her. He didn't. She closed her hand and smiled at his tepid show of alpha behavior, accepting the rejection. “She camps alone within the clearing where you both met. Once again perilously close to my lord's territories. Fortunately, she isn't braying your name this time. Wise of her not to invite xenophobic attention. I commend the human for that at least.”

Issac fixed his tunic in an effort to appear dismissive. “What is she doing then?”

The vixen shrugged and laid her hands on her lap. Playing with her long fingernails absently as she spoke, “Nothing? She wakes, stares into my lord's forest, and goes to sleep again. Sometimes she sleeps while she sits. I haven't seen her eat, but then I only observed her for three days. Who knows what customs humans act out when they've lost their mate? I haven't the faintest.” Calling him Jennica's 'mate' injured Issac down deep in a place he reserved to be hollow. He even winced. The vixen canted her fair elven head, much like the animal she was, “I don't care about your obsession, my brother. But, you do. After all, you cast us from yourself so easily. All for that human girl and her human family and her human home. That you'd waste yourself so... it disgusts me. You even smell like them.” She licked her lips to reign in her ire. “Such a sacrifice cannot be ignored, however.”

“She's human. She won't wait in that clearing forever. My father won't even notice she'd come and gone before snows arrive and bury her visit. Let her be. Jennica's in mourning. She's harmless.”

“Harmless?” The elfmaid stood at a level to meet his eyes. Breaking the boundary of his personal space with the sinister closeness of a predator. “You fool, you showed her what we are. She knows where we live! When she refused to accept what she saw, you should've killed her. Instead you mewled like a coward and ran!” Issac struck her in an instant that felt beyond his control. She lost her grace and caught herself against a tree, sparing a total drop to the ground. There were no great injuries. Blood never tasted on her tongue. But she'd try not to underestimate the Dishonored Son again. “The fact remains... You provided her with ample opportunity to share our secret with others when you should have snuffed her out. Humans are a desperate pack of wild animals when fear drives them. Even the powerful hand of my lord would find it hard to stay the violent and frightened masses if they came swarming at our door. Ever the careless cub, selfishly wallowing in your misery. Do you ever consider us? Did you once steal a moment to understand our purpose here? Do you know what you've done?”

“I'm-I'm sorry, my sister.” Issac stared wide eyed at the deceptively delicate looking elfmaid he struck. His breath heavy in a kind of fear, “M-my father, he's ignorant of my mistake?”

Cracking her jaw, fixing her dress, it's as if she was never hit. She kept herself at arm's length, however. Her elvish became less formal. Her posture not so much, “You're a ghost, Issac. As I said, he doesn't think of you. Our kin are aware of your mate in the forest but they don't know why she sits vigil there. Only I know.”

Issac cast his eyes down for the first time since she came here. He tried not to show such weakness in front of her, but in his despair it couldn't be helped. “You saw it?”

“Dishonored Son, you'll always have eyes on you. If mine close forever, they'll only be replaced.” A threat veiled in velvet, in case he meant to do more then strike her. “You must think very highly of yourself if you believe her simply starving to death in our forest is enough to gain my lord's attention. Death. Sunset. A season's change. All relative. They don't effect the grand purpose. But...” at last the vixen found amusement quirk the corners of her smile. A real foxy grin. “...our kind is very curious. After a time, they'll investigate. The moment she shows she knows too much, they'll kill her. If you don't find it in your broken heart to bring her to heel then I may have to kill her myself.”

He let his vulpine blood change him. Issac had a clawed hand at her thin throat and pressed it to a tree. He was fast, very fast. And it would've been very easy to 'have her eyes replaced', as she put it. Anger conducted his voice into bi-harmonics, “Threaten my mate again, vixen.”

“I didn't have to come to you! I could have done my duty, but I didn't!” She braced the tree, choking as she spoke, “I risk as much as you've already lost bringing this to you! If your father finds us out, her death by my hands would be merciful compared to what he could do to us all!” Hues in her eyes bled from dark honey to bright amber as her vulpine blood responded to her distress. Before a change was fully be provoked, she dropped from his grip when he slacked it. She coughed until she could breath normally enough to speak again, “Foolish tod! I'm on your side!”

Issac roared, “Then act like it!”

This time it was she who looked away from him. Considering her words carefully as rage radiated from Issac like pulsing heat. A protective anger so fierce she could smell it. Feared it. And how she missed it. “My brother... Issac... you'll always be my beloved kin. But you don't belong with us anymore. My loyalties lie where they were born. I'm sorry but I cannot let such a danger go unchecked for much longer. If you've severed your heart from your human mate I must know.” she cautiously looked up from behind strands black hair, “If you have, I swear on my honor, her death will be swift and painless.”

He shifted back to his elven form and helped her to her feet. He hadn't felt such bloodlust in however long, he couldn't remember. Now that it passed, he didn't miss it. He sighed deeply, “I've not severed my heart from hers. She severed hers from mine. I'm afraid I’m still irrevocably tethered. But she's chosen to fear rather then accept me. It's as father said it would be with her kind...”

“I cannot claim to be an expert on humans as you are, but she's well aware of us now. Instead of turning to run like you chose to do, my brother, she's laid her head at the threshold of your father's land. Her bravery in the face of certain death is admirable. If any creature were to domesticate you...” she rolled her eyes and grimaced to say it, “I'm glad it was this Jennica.” A high compliment, he was stunned. Not letting the moment hang, she curtly cut to it, “For the love of everything, gather up your mate and go home. Your misery is poisoning my better judgment.”

“I will. Yes, I...” Issac nodded then smiled handsomely, feeling renewed, “Thank you, my sister.”

The vixen's elven eyes smiled where her tight mouth refused the indulgence. All she wanted was for her close-knit kin to be happy. With all the grace she possessed upon her arrival, she deftly slipped into the shadow of the large oak, emerging from the other side in her most natural form. That of a sleek, beautiful black direfox. Her bright amber eyes pierced through the darkness of her coat, silently reminding him—warning him—that those eyes would be watching. Then they were gone.

“They lied. You do eat.”

Jennica gasped and nearly choked on her food. Turning toward the deepened voice of the one she'd been waiting so long for. Unfortunately her eyes couldn't find him in this dark. Not immediately. She quickly packed her rations away, chewing the last of it in her mouth, and stood. “Issac?” It sounded like him. She sure hoped it was him. “Are you a... werefox now?”

“I've always been a 'werefox'.” he said, sounding from the same area. Jennica slowly took a few steps towards it. Meanwhile he also approached the clearing, unseen. Once again, her camp fire was pitifully inadequate for maintaining light. Just a small glow to fight against the pitch black forest. Thankfully his eyes were keen. She claimed the ring and wore it on her finger now. Issac smiled.

“Ha ha.” she mocked, “You know what I mean, Issac. Are you a werefox right now? Not since birth. Right this very moment.”

“Yes.”

She yelped. He was much closer then before, it startled her. Jennica quickly gathered her wits and stood defiantly, “Well come into the light where I can see you.” She noticed his figure walk past her and into the dim campfire glow. Same height as Issac but she felt smaller in comparison. She approached him. Her heart fluttered in excitement and fear. Reaching her hand out, perhaps expecting to pass through an illusion, she touched his warm and soft fur. The fur of his jacket didn't compare to the feel of this. She felt him tense the moment she touched him. “Does it... hurt when you change?”

The curiosity of her tone was very much an honest wonder overcoming her fear. It'd been so long and the time he spent away from her came crashing into him and filling that hollow place right up. Had he possessed his elven eyes, tears of joy would have surely fallen from them. Since he couldn't cry he laughed, “No, no it's a lot like a small orgasm. A sneeze. A shiver, really.” Jennica laughed and his heart felt at home. He brushed the back of his furred fingers across her cheek and moved aside her hair to look at her face. She averted her eyes coyly, shy to look at his vulpine features. He softly spoke, sounding like a baritone octette when delivering elvish in this form, “Look at me... If you want to accept me you must see me. This is the gift our children will inherit. My love, you must see it and tell me true that this is what you want.”

Jennica looked into his vulpine face fully. Studying it for an achingly long moment before speaking, “What if it scares me?”

“I know... I've bared some guarded secrets upon you. I shouldn't have been so selfish. For my mistakes, I pledge my life to your well being. Even if you turn me away this night, my life is yours.”

She nodded, chewing her lip, “And sex... Do we get to have sex like this?” Just like Jennica the Dragon to burn through a solemn moment with bawdy flirtations, for heaven sake! Issac's amber eyes could have popped right out of his head when he choked at the question. She blushed, “What! I had to ask! You're talkin' about kids and everything! Dammit, I've been sitting here a long-ass time, Issac! I had a lot to think about! Sometimes I forgot to eat or sleep and my dreams got weird...”

“And one of them was sex with a fox man—werefox... whatever you called this?!”

“Yeah! Maybe? You had me waiting forever! Eventually sex is going to cross my mind!”

He scoffed, “Are your kind even capable of that... with mine?”

“Well I dunno—yes?” She shrugged, unable to keep herself from laughing, “Aren't yours? So long as all the proper parts are available, right? I'm human. Our kind make a mess just about anywhere! Wha—Wait. Oh, are you not 'functional' in this state?”

“This conversation is entirely inappropriate!”

“Kissing would be difficult... I don't think I’d like that very much. I mean, wild lovemaking doesn’t have to involve kissing. I'd prefer it bu--” He couldn't stand it! Shifting to his elven form he took her face in his hands and kissed her. She wanted to be kissed? He was more then willing to oblige.

Past the waning firelight, a few watching eyes receded into darkness past the clearing as Issac and Jennica fell passionately into each other and sullied vulpine territories with their lust. Leaving him there. Letting their Dishonored Son claim his mate. And letting him go.

Years passed, moon after moon, summer after summer. Sometimes Issac lost track of seasons while enjoying life with his wife and while getting ever more involved in guild affairs. He was one of the few elven engineers in that guild since most were, not surprisingly, dwarves and humans. It wasn't long before he was made a marshal to represent elves for this particular career path. Issac had a knack for negotiating work, job placements, enticing new recruits, and of course architecture. Because of his hard work, unique style, passion for engineering, and constant collaboration with the great city-state, Andruin took notice of the elf from the A&A Guild. Even gruff compliments from one or two Andruin taught dwarven engineers found his ears over his 'practical application of the art'. Those particular observances were probably responsible for getting Issac an invitation to a counsel member's party deep in the richer districts of Andruin. He'd never, ever been that deep into the heart of the city before. Safe to say he was incredibly nervous. Guildhalls and garrisons were one thing, but high end parties? It felt like stepping out of the wood and into the wide open valley where any keen eyed hunter could aim easily. Were it not for Jennica the Dragon, he'd have searched out any excuse to miss it.

By now Jennica made a pleasant living as a seamstress who specialized in embroidery and tatting. When word got to her that her husband was invited to such a prestigious event, she made sure he went. Also making sure his clothes were cut perfectly. Slipping in a fox face among the embroidery to be cheeky. He didn't notice that detail and Jennica decided not to tell him. Curious to see if any of the party guests would catch it.

Since the party was deep in the city, the guests were provided with local hotel accommodations. The party turned out to be something of a high end job interview. A convention disguised as a soiree. Prospects for potential military contracts were all over and the top secret subject of discussion was the re-haul and reinforcement of the city's aqueducts, bridges, walls, major government buildings, and anti-siege weaponry. Not a single human was at this party. They wouldn't live long enough to devote the kind of mind Andruin needed for this. He'd not been around this many elves in one room for many years. Nevertheless, Issac impressed some very influential attendees, landing an offer on the job. He was guaranteed steady work, a huge payout, real-estate in a high end middle class neighborhood, and if he had children their schooling and military training would be covered. All he had to do was leave the town, leave Mac's home where he lived with Jennica, resign his position in the A&A Guild, expect to travel very little while this project was under way, and accept no other contracts but Andruin's. Accepting this job meant steel gripped devotion to the city-state. It'd also mean he'd develop and lead parts of the whole project in tandem with three other ranking engineers, not just crew as a consultant, recruiter, or drafter. He'd be one of four Executive Engineers.

Never in his wildest dreams did he think in twenty-one short years he'd go from writhing with a nubile teenager at a waterside as she grabbed his crotch and called it Andruin to working there exclusively. Issac smiled brightly to the stout and snow bearded dwarf Highguard Larn who delivered the news to the 'lad', as he called him. Issac shifted his glass from one hand to free the other, shaking the dwarf's meaty grip. Issac's dwarven wasn't as eloquent as his elven or as well practiced as his human but he spoke it anyway, “I'll need to consult with my wife. It's a big a decision. An impressive promotion! I know she'll be over the moon. We have no children. Uprooting might not be so traumatic, if I accept the position of course. My grace period with new projects tend to be rough.”

“Talented kid like you? You'd fit right in. If you don't mind me sayin', lotta money can afford to fill your new home with lotta babies.” Larn belly-laughed and ribbed Issac's side, “You wait! The trauma will visit you then!” Issac blushed. The old dwarf had a little too much of the top shelf brew. “I know, lad, I understand. It's a big commitment. But Andruin treats it's citizens like gold. With this project, they might add some extra incentives to make sure you're happy and productive. Count on it.”

Issac smiled. Maybe he had a little too much of the top shelf brew himself tonight? What was a good idiom for his gratitude? Ah, there was a human one that would work, “I'm speechless.” He stopped to consider the absurdity of that human phrase and the two bust out laughing over it.

He had a full week to enjoy the exciting and bustling high-end section of the city alongside other invited attendees and decide whether to take the job. By the last night, attendees were invited to return to a reception hall for a meeting to deliver their yeses or nos. Issac and Jennica gleefully and amorously took advantage of the Andruin hospitality the entire time. By the time Issac turned in his acceptance, the two of them conceived their first child.

The gold painted ornate door opened to Amirian standing on the other side of it. Issac tenseness deflated with relief, “You found my message. Thank heaven.”

“You look terrible.” The ranger hoisted his travel pack on his shoulder and smiled, “May I enter?” They both embraced and Issac took his friend's pack and weapons, eagerly inviting him into his new home. The place was spartan somewhat. Jennica and Issac had only been there some months. Long enough to get whatever was theirs from Mac's unpacked and situated, but not long enough to collect paintings or nicknacks to really nest. Such paraphernalia would've been mostly Jennica's anyway. Issac cordially apologized for the emptiness of the house. Amirian chuckled, “You know that's not necessary. Given the purpose of my visit, you won't have to fret over that for very long, will you?”

Issac's smile brightened the way a man's should when expecting a child. “I remember you told me once you midwifed your son's birth. So I left a message to contact you the moment my wife told me she was with child.” He lead the elf to a second story brightly windowed guestroom that contained only one made bed, a night-table, and an upholstered chair, placing the pack upon the bed and the weapons in the closet. The ranger didn't mind the bare room, he seemed pleased by it. It had a large window to enjoy the outside and that's all that mattered. Even if it overlooked a neighborhood of buildings rather then trees. The view was still lovely.

“Elven births are different then human births, my friend. I've never midwifed a human birth. And I understand they can be rather... violent. Perhaps you should consider a human midwife?” Amirian glanced around in impressed indication to Issac's new stroke of wealth, “You most certainly could afford it.”

Issac nodded, cracking open the large window to air out what was previously an unused room, “If you never showed I would've considered it, as an emergency plan. I've no other confidants aside from my wife, my father-in-law, and you who are aware of my condition. I cannot contact my family. they'd never hear me, let alone help me. And given the special circumstances which my child shall inherit, I thought contacting you... appropriate.”

Amirian removed his traveling coat, as he spoke, draping it over his arm and leaning on the decorative door frame, “I'm not skilled in the midwifing of a child inheriting such conditions either.” He smiled warmly to Issac who looked suddenly worried that Amirian was saying no. “A wise man likely said, 'a long life is filled with perpetual first times'. I thank you for the opportunity.”

Issac let out a breath, glad the elf wasn't turning him down. “With your experience I’d say you're vastly qualified for the job.” He took Amirian's coat, hung it in the guestroom closet, and lead the elf toward the patio to be fed. Issac's hair was a fray with him fixing it out of his face all the time while he worked. And now with 'Jennica the Dragon' pregnant, very pregnant, the elf was a bit overwhelmed as well as overworked. Neither of them had friends this deep into Andruin. They arrived in their big new empty house as strangers in a strange land. It wasn't just Issac who had to upend his life in that town, it was Jennica as well. And her roots were planted more firmly down then his were. With the move and his new duties, as well as her condition, she wouldn't be able to find steady work until after she gave birth. Issac told her she never had to worry over money again so she didn't have to work. That somehow made her mad. They sat beneath a canopy on his patio, Issac regaling Amirian of all this. “Her mood swings can be wild sometimes. I'm glad we have nothing to throw around but furniture she can't lift. Sometimes she's morose and weeps bitterly. Sometimes she's as cheerful as the sun or relentless as a torrent. And amorous, my god. She's lusty quite often! I thought, in her condition, the last thing she'd want is to be touched.”

“A child has a way of mixing up the blood of their mother while in the womb. It's a truth for most expecting mothers. Even animals. I'd venture a guess your child's vulpine blood is influential.”

Issac's expression hinted at worry again, “Will it... change her? Many moons passed and she hasn't been afflicted with anything but growing temper and growing lust. But the birth itself, will it...?”

“I can't say, Issac.” Amirian set his glass down on the patio table and looked out at the garden thoughtfully, “There's a lot of blood at birth but it's almost never the child's. The claws and horns of beasts are soft, dull, or nonexistent when they're born. I don't know if a werekin babe has those things but I think they couldn't scratch an itch let alone pierce skin if they did.”

The answer assuaged Issac's worry enough and he laughed wearily. As he was about to carry on the conversation he was interrupted by the opening of the patio door. Jennica left her bags behind as she swept in. Amirian's eyes widened slightly, surprised about how heavily with child the woman was. She was still so petite. Her belly looked like it was held to her by will alone. He'd also forgotten how long it'd been since he saw her last. For a human, she was a little advanced in age to be bearing a child. Admittedly she carried the look of pregnancy very well. Amirian reined in his expression and stood, opening his arms. She squealed with delight and they embraced, “This is an unexpected surprise! Issac, you didn't tell me we'd have company! My god, there is literally no food in the house.”

“What are the bags for?” Amirian's human was as natural and eloquent as his elven.

“Decorations! This place is nothing but bare walls and windows. I can't stand it.” They both chuckled and withdrew. Issac moved past them both to bring those bags to the counter and unpack them. Jennica clicked her tongue, “Issac, I'm not crippled. I can carry the bags to a table. I carried them in the house all by my little self.”

Issac ignored her protest with a rakish grin as he unloaded the bags, “Just making sure you didn't purchase anything I must hide if you get miffed, my dear.”

“I assure you, I did!” She turned back to Amirian, her eyes still ageless, roguish, and wry, “There's not much to the house except Issac's messy office he won't let me clean. But I’d love to show you around! I have a feeling Issac didn't.”

“He did show me to my guest room with the lovely view.”

She perked, “Oh, you'll be staying with us? For how long?” Quite excited at the prospect of entertaining her first stay over guest in her new home who wasn't her father or her cousin.

“Until a little after your child is born. Issac left me a message in the rangers' timeshare that asked for my services, to act as your midwife. I graciously accepted.” Amirian saw Jennica's smile drop away and he quirked a brow, confused by her reaction. “I... Is this... Have I offended you?”

Jennica curtly excused herself and left him standing bewildered on the patio. Not saying another word when grabbing one of the bags as she stomped past Issac and went upstairs. Amirian approached the patio door and both elves heard a door upstairs slam loudly, cracking the silence. The sound was so significant, they both winced at it. Issac now looked more weary then before. He resisted the urge to bang the porcelain tchotchke on the counter. Placing it there instead, he sighed. Resting his arms and all his weight against them on the counter because otherwise he'd go storming up after her. Experience dictated that would've been a terrible idea.

Amirian walked alongside Issac and picked up the delicate porcine bauble. A thing to occupy his hands as he softly spoke, “This wasn't a mutual decision?”

“I wasn't sure you'd come at all. I stalled her in the hopes you would. I've turned down a few well respected midwives so far. My wife and I... we've been at odds over this.”

“That was unwise. She's far along already, you realize that? She's a human, Issac. Another moon will pass at most and the child will arrive. She should've been training her body with a midwife some moons ago. A human midwife.” Amirian's tone was very much that of an experienced father, not just an experienced midwife. Though soft, it cut through Issac with fatherly discipline. “She has every right to be angry with you. She's too—You've put her and the child in a great deal of danger by denying her a midwife. Someone she knows. Someone she trusts!”

Issac cast a long sigh and let his head hang, “I'm sorry, but I couldn't risk it if--”

“--At the cost of your wife's life, Issac? How long did you plan to wait? I know this is your first child and such things can tear a man's sense to pieces. But unless you train yourself to midwife future children, I suggest you let another midwife in on your secret. One you and Jennica can both trust.”

“I trust you. And I know she'll trust you too. She's just angry.” Issac pushed himself off the counter,“I'll speak with her.”

Amirian stopped him, “No. I will. She went upstairs with a bag of things to throw, remember?” He handed Issac the porcelain bauble and went upstairs instead.

It didn't take long for Amirian to find Jennica. She was crying in the room she went to. The door wasn't locked so he let himself in. It was the baby's room, evident by the crib and the curtains with childish embroidery of animals on it. The bag of various baby things laid on it's side, its contents spilled on the floor. Beside it sat Jennica in a rocking chair holding an unpainted doll as she cried so miserably her shoulders shook. She knew someone came in but chose to ignore it. Perhaps because she thought it was her husband. When she saw it was the ranger, though, she wiped her eyes and apologized. Amirian shook his head, “I'm hearing a lot of apologies today. That's not the sign of a contented household.”

“I'm sorry...”

The elf laughed gently and took a seat in front of her on a throw-rug with cute animals on it. She realized she apologized for apologizing, joining him in giggles past her tears. He crossed his legs and rested his arms in his lap with a flop. “Sooo, congratulations! I hear you're having a child.”

Jennica couldn't help but blush, Instinctively she rested a hand on her belly. She only met the elf once before, about thirteen years ago, and left with the impression he was distant and serious. His elven dialect was well spoken without a lot of slang like a high-elf's, though he dressed like a forest-elf. Now he carried himself like one too. His eyes were bright, his woody colored hair was windswept, and he sat there like he made any place he laid his head home.

Jennica nodded, “Cookin' one up for some time, actually.”

“No kidding! Then you've prepared a name for the little one when they arrive?”

“Mmhmm. We agreed on Nelus if it's a boy and Trisha if it's a girl.”

“Fine names, fine names...” he leaned in, “And if it's twins?”

“Then Issac will pay!” she guffawed. Amirian laughed just as richly. The ranger was deftly talented at putting the emotional woman at ease so far. She became comfortable enough to talk about her plans for the room and the things she bought for the baby today. Particularly the unpainted doll bases. Once the child was born she would fashion clothes and decorate them based on the baby's sex. It was Jennica who embroidered the animals on the curtains and the blankets. Amirian thoughtfully frowned, impressed by all her effort and talent. He hinted, making doll clothes and baby blankets could be very lucrative. He'd heard from her addled husband that she desired to keep busy with some monetary gain. Not as much material to worry about as well. She blinked. Now she was impressed, “You know, I never thought of that?” She made a face as the child moved, shifting in the chair.

“Ah, the little one's awake?”

“And very jealous if they have to share mommy's attention.”

He extended his hand and looked up at her, “May I?” She nodded and he rested his hand gently on her great belly. There was a fatherly softness that visited the elf's face. Feeling the restless squirming of an unborn babe was an experience he'd never grow tired of. Every time a mother allowed him the privilege, his heart felt like it would fountain forth joy for her. He drew in closer and whispered something to the child that could've been elven. Jennica didn't recognize the dialect if it was.

Overcome with emotion that forced itself upon her from time to time, pride perhaps, her voice cracked alongside contentment as she watched him admire her belly. “You've any children?”

“Four. I assisted my wife in delivering every one. They were each a unique experience. Every one of them arrived healthy, loud, and very chubby.” He smiled to her and she giggled. “You wouldn't be my first and, if I can help it, you won't be my last.”

“You've done this before? I mean, besides your wife?”

“Oh yes. I've midwifed for many mothers. Animals, elves, half-elves, and some even stranger then that. It's a calling of sorts. I regret I didn't arrive for you sooner.” The child felt calmed, so he withdrew his hand and sat back down on the rug as he was. “I'll understand if you want another midwife. Issac said you spoke to some already.”

“He doesn't want them because he's scared they'll find out he's a werefox. Oh I--!” She threw her hand tightly over her mouth. It was too late. In her emotional burst it just came out. But the ranger just chuckled and shook his head. Speaking behind her fingers, she gasped, “Then, you know?”

He nodded, “I do. It's why he contacted me. Your husband is desperate for discretion and some experience on the special matter at hand. So here I am.”

Jennica cast her eyes down and hugged her belly with a grimace, “Why didn't he just tell me?”

“I don't know. Over worried? Over worked?”

She scoffed. Tears brimmed her eyes anew but her face read willful anger. “Yeah. Both. I mean, I told him 'go ahead, take the job'! An opportunity to live and work in the heart of Andruin all expenses paid? Who'd be stupid enough to to say no to that? Dammit, ever since we moved here he... He's very attentive when I ask him for things and he dotes. He does. And his career lets him work from home. But he works every waking hour he doesn’t tend to me. He hasn't lifted his head from his office long enough to establish friends or-or meet our neighbors! Like he expects me to—poof--magically gather friends! I... I don't know anyone here! I've met our neighbors and they're... nice. I dunno. Everyone lives in this neighborhood because they work for Andruin too, you know? Who has time to make friends? My dad and my cousins visit but they don't live nearby... I'm used to everyone being around. I...” She glanced over at Amirian's patient expression as he listened to her. A surge of sorrow contorted her face and she fought it off. Swallowed it down hard. As it was when Amirian entered the room, Jennica's attention was once more on the plain little doll base that never left her hand. “I hope it's a girl. Isn't that a terrible thing to say? All fathers want sons...”

He offered a gentle smile, “Not always.”

“A girl I can handle. A girl I can understand. Pfft! I'm trained to fashion girl's clothes! What'll I do if I have a boy? Boys hate lace!” She laughed but it wasn't from genuine mirth. “Trisha was my mother's name and she was hilarious! She...! If I had a girl I could really pour myself into her and Issac wouldn't need to worry so much. He could work and I could raise a spoiled brat. Heh, it would be weird to scold her. 'Trisha go to your room!' Mom would rib me something fierce if she was--” She choked on her sorrow mid-sentence. Unable to hold back the deluge of tears now, “I miss her... so much... ”

Amirian drew Jennica into a hug that her crying made her too weak to decline. She didn't weep. She wailed. Amirian was practiced in controlled emotions. He felt for her but didn't weep along with her. Issac wasn't as controlled. A while ago the ranger's keen ears caught him eavesdropping quietly outside in the hall and now heard him crying. A house built on homesickness and loneliness was no house at all. This house needed more then a midwife. He waited until her tears were spent before he spoke again. This time in his mother-tongue, “You and your husband are in able hands now. Then... when your child is born... boy or girl... I believe you both will raise it expertly together.” He gently brought her from his shoulder to look at him, “Yes?”

She scoffed softly but nodded with a small smile.

“Good!” The elf grinned brightly and picked up the toys that spilled on the floor. Placing all of them back in the bag and then he stood. The burst of energy caught Jennica by surprise. Amirian clapped his hands together with a jaunty hop, “Well! I'm going to unpack my things and ruffle my covers a little. It's been a long journey and I’m in need of a nap. In the meantime,” He pointed two fingers at her from his clasped hands, “you'll need to tend to your husband. He's crying like a kitten out in the hallway. See you at supper. Ta ta!” Amirian gracefully exited the room in an instant. The wind that followed his gait could hardly catch up. He found Issac where he knew he'd be. When Amirian passed, he whispered a moment in Issac's ear, “Place your duties on a subordinate, my friend. Your wife's in a delicate state and requires your... genuine... loving attention.”

Issac didn't have time to respond, the ranger was already in the guestroom and closing the door behind him. Amirian was right, of course. Issac felt like such an ass. More so when Jennica emerged from the baby's room with her face still wet from tears. He sighed and fell into humble apologies, begging her forgiveness over his reckless neglect and just being a general introvert lately. She put on a cross-armed show of smoldering indignation but eagerly accepted his apologetic embrace when he brought her into it. What's more, the child was completely made content.

Issac put in his request for the time off and Highguard Larn reprimanded him in a most commanding dwarven dialect. Not for the request, no, for working when the fool elf should have been on paternity leave! “Idiot boy! Of course you can take the time! Andruin won't collapse into dust if you take a few months for your family. Get the hell out of my office before I box your pointy ears!” Then he shook Issac's hand, congratulated him on the new addition, and sent the excited elf away. Alas. Back to the grind with the old dwarf. He had his secretary send the Hennessys a bottle of something elven, bubbly, and sweet for today's amusement. His always mirthless high-elf friend would probably get a kick out of this come supper. Hell, Aurelius would've probably done the same as that foolish elf lad.

Meanwhile Amirian had Jennica bring him to one of the midwives she liked best to ask their advice on human birth. Using the opportunity to get Jennica acquainted with new people. Even if it was just starting with midwives or visits to regular merchants for sewing materials. When he wasn't spending time with her and answering whatever questions he could, he was reading a book or two Issac provided him on human births while sitting cross legged on his bed with a glass of something sweet on the night table. Those were the times Issac spent alone with Jennica. Sometimes intimately. Now they could enjoy the city for the first time since the week the baby was conceived. Issac brought her around to catch a play or a show and attended her efforts to try and secure friends. She was always better at reeling them in, he was much better at maintaining them. It was upon Issac's prompting that the two of them scoped out potential schools for when the child was old enough to attend. There was a big prestigious selection in this city. It ate up a lot of their time. And it was wonderful.

Unfortunately and much sooner then they anticipated, Jennica couldn't travel about anymore and had to stay in the house. Moving was a chore for her and her sleep was fretful. Issac worried that the child's vulpine blood also exposed her to the same awful nightmares he had to go through from time to time. Amirian promised it was just another symptom that almost all pregnant creatures suffered. Giving Issac the old 'trust me I know what I’m talking about' talk.

It was the middle of a cool spring night. Late enough for only having patrols on the streets. Everyone else in the neighborhood was fast asleep. Even the usual night owls. Calm, peaceful, perfect. Then an acrid smell caught Issac first. Soon after, a warm gush awoke Jennica with a start. She cried out loudly in groggy terror. Amirian was at their door in an instant wearing nothing but borrowed pajama pants with a sword ready out of sleepy-eyed instinct.

Issac was barely awake now, unsure how to react to the smell. Or to the bared blade.

“What in the hell?” Jennica threw the sheets from her and cursed such a streak, “I pissed the bed!” In her embarrassment she tried to leave the mess to gather new sheets. It was then the labor pains assailed her and she collapsed. Issac scrambled over the bed and scooped her up, looking desperately to Amirian for instruction. All this awoke the ranger quickly and he easily took control of the situation.

He even smiled, “Well then, an evening child. Lucky you.”

The commotion woke some neighbors who curiously wandered over to investigate. Because of the attention, Amirian was sequestered in a room with Jennica with all the things he needed prepped days ago. There was no need for him to emerge for additional supplies. Issac got to 'entertain' the now very supportive neighbors. It was one way to make friends. They seemed to share his anxiety as he paced and excitedly talked with him. A showing of support was helping as he waited it out. Toward the end Jennica got viciously vocal, cursing Issac loudly from the room until finally... a mewling cry.

Amirian called out joyfully, “My friend, you have a son. His name is Nelus Hennessy!”

Amirian stayed around for two more days to instruct Issac and make sure the mother and babe were healthy. They were. Both mother and son slept often. All that effort left them both exhausted. Children will come screaming into the world whenever they choose. Fortunately the birthing was routine, even for the late hour. Before Amirian parted he left them two slips of a special pulpy parchment. Instructing the Hennessys, if he his services were needed again to write a message on one of the papers and leave it at the rangers' timeshare. It had a scent that he trusted some hawks in the area to deliver. “I'm a Woodward. Never in the same places and often very far from where I need to be. Even birds take time to fly from this place to that. So, if you plan on expanding your family, may I suggest you contact me before your next child is conceived? Not when and not after.” Both Issac and Jennica understood and thanked him. Amirian got to hold the boy one last time before he left, chuckling with fatherly warmth when the little thing could barely muster enough energy to keep his little gray eyes open. The grip Nelus held on the elf's pinky was strong and put the baby fast to sleep. Amirian left that very morning. His parting gift laid on Nelus' pillow, a painted woodcarving of a dancing fox.

Evening child indeed. Nelus was an easy baby though still a baby. Robbing Issac of sleep more then a few times. Jennica did her part and earned the rest to gather her energy. He'd never tell Jennica the Dragon that he thought she was too weak to mother the child. She'd let him have it if he did. Issac tended to his son. Relenting one sleepless night, he brought a bassinet into their bedroom for the baby to sleep. That took care of the fussy nights. In short order, Jennica regained her energy and then some. Now that she was a mother, she loved it. Working never crossed her mind, not once. Jovial, exciting, and picking herself up if she hit parental snags, she was an excellent mother. It wasn't long before Issac had to return to his work. The only conditions she laid down for him was to keep his office door open and keep the floor in there child proof. In essence, 'clean up your damn mess'.

Nelus was an inquisitive and patient child. He played and bounded about, of course. He was a boy—he was a fox—things got ruined or broke plenty. Mac and her cousins' visits were a joy for the little half-elf, it meant toys and other children to play with. And 'Grandpa Mac' was just as willing to get down on the floor with the kids as Jennica was. Having a son appeared to be the foot-in-the-door Jennica needed to establish friends in the neighborhood. Nelus was respectful, polite, and genuinely apologetic if he got caught doing something bad. The other mothers loved him.

What the boy appeared to enjoy as much as playing with his mother was quietly playing with his building toys in his father's office. It had the poor elf tripping and stepping on his son's little lost houses more then once. To fix that issue, Issac commissioned a smaller replica of the working desk he used to avoid any more injury. One'd swear he gifted Nelus gold. Jennica passed into the office once to gather dirty dishes and held back a giggle at the sight. Issac sitting intently over the work on his desk and little Nelus mimicking his father's intensity as he sat at his own desk drawing nonsense all over paper with waxy crayon. She kissed them both and wished them good luck on their 'hard work'. Issac smiled. The irony didn't escape him.

One day Jennica was riding to Andruin with Nelus by horse drawn carriage. An elegant, elven built, cushioned and enclosed ride all the way from her fathers. Returning home from a long summer visit. Because of Issac's work, he couldn't get the time off to join them. Without all the distractions, he promised to get a lot more work done so that when they returned he could devote some time off for them then. Jennica let the matter go without protest.

Nelus was six going on seven. He propped himself against the wall of the carriage by his book-bag. One leg sprawled the length of his couch, the other dangling and lazily knocking against the wood paneling. He was enjoying an elven book with very little pictures and driving his mother slowly crazy with the rhythmic banging of his shoe on the seat. Jennica seemed asleep as she sat across from him. Her head lulled back. Her eyes closed. She very much was not, however. Fostering a growing headache, in fact. “Nelus I swear if you don't stop banging, I’ll break that leg of yours.”

He blushed and curled it back onto his seat, “Sorry, mommy.”

She wearily chuckled, “It's all right, sweetheart.”

“Mom?” he looked at her and saw her peek an eye open at him, awaiting his question. “What's 'bazoom' mean? Grandpa Mac and I were in the market and he told a lady she had 'beautiful bazooms'. She laughed and stuff so I know it's notta bad word. I dunno what it means. He told me 'ask your mom'.”

“Your Grandpa Mac and I need to have a little chat over his over familiar compliments to the ladies when he's around you.”

Nelus paused to consider something then held his head confidently like he knew gentleman did, “Mommy, you have beautiful bazooms.” It made his mother burst into laughter. He figured it would. He wasn't sure what the human term really indicated but he knew it was bawdy and perhaps subdued enough for him to say it himself without getting punished. He was right.

“Why, thank you!” She wiped a tear from her eye. Her son was too smart for his own good. “Your father thinks so too.”

There was a jerk followed by a violent cacophony of crashing wheels and whinnying horses. Both Nelus and Jennica were thrown into each other and then into the roof of their carriage as it toppled over into a grassy ditch on the side of the road. When the chaos settled, Jennica came to. From out of the haze she heard the sound of Nelus crying. It was a whiny and startling sound. She groaned and found blood on her head. The carriage couches now occupied the roof. “Nelus...? Nelus!”

“Mommy!” Nelus scrambled over to her and hugged to her tightly. Which hurt painfully since she bruised a rib or two and his terrified grip didn't help. She checked to make sure he was all right and gasped. In his terror, Nelus uncontrollably changed into his hybrid fox form. Now he was scared by more then the carriage accident and couldn't be calmed. She shushed him lovingly, even though she feared he might scratch her in his panic. This was the first time he'd ever changed.

“Are you all right, Madam Hennessy?!” the driver called.

Jennica tore the curtain from the window and covered her son's condition when she heard the driver's approach. “I'm fine! We're all right! What happened?”

The driver opened the door to help them out of the upturned carriage. Jennica declined assistance and helped herself out while keeping her son covered. So the driver forced open the broken door with his weight instead, “The horses got spooked by a stray dog somethin' fierce. I lost control of the nags. Madam, I’m so sorry! My god, you're bleeding!”

“It's all right, I'm fine. Please tend to the horses. See if one can be spared and ride for help.” The driver did just that. He worked to cut the terrified horses free from the twisted carriage and calm them while Jennica brought Nelus to sit with her on the grass. She peeked beneath the curtain and sighed. He was still a werefox. “It's okay, sweetheart. Your daddy told you all about this, remember? There's nothing to be scared of. Do you remember your daddy teaching you how he returns to his normal form?” Nelus nodded. “Do you think you can do that now?” He shook his head, letting out a small whine. She ran her fingers through his fur to sooth him. “It's okay... When the driver goes to get help we'll have a picnic. You can try then, yeah?”

Nelus' shiny black nose peeked out from beneath the curtain, “M-mommy my... my butt hurts.”

She took a look at the bundle trapped beneath his high-waist pants and cooed sympathetically. The poor thing had a tail. No wonder Issac wore his pants so loosely The driver took a horse, left them the spare just in case, and rode for the closest village for help. When he was gone, Jennica tore the seam along the back of Nelus' pants to let his tail out. Jennica put together a picnic like she promised. Some of the food survived the accident. Only one bottle of milk did. They sat on one blanket and she used another to cover Nelus. He hid beneath it like a kid hiding under a bedsheet from monsters. His fluffy tail swished side to side anxiously. His big ears twitched beyond his control. Responding to the world made keen around him. Jennica couldn't keep her heart from swelling at the sight of him. He was just so fluffy, cute, and so little! Oh, if only Issac were here...

The black vixen finally let herself be seen.

Jennica caught sight of her and instantly drew Nelus into her protection. Arming herself with a steak knife from the silverware on the blanket and glaring hazel eyed daggers at the direfox. The vixen didn't care. She approached them both without fear or concern. Even armed with the silver etched cutlery, the human was no threat. Her great black form drew dangerously close and Jennica put the knife between the beast and her son. “Close enough...” The vixen regarded the woman for a moment and sat a few feet away. Jennica was fiercely angry now, “It was you who spooked the horses?”

The vixen slowly nodded. Once.

“Sadistic rat! You had your fun. Begone before I run you through and use your stinking black coat for a winter shawl!”

The human's command over Issac's elven dialect was disciplined and direct. The vixen was impressed. In response, she wouldn't injure her close-knit kin's mate for the grievously intentional insult. She'd only ignore her and look to the young haybreed kit hiding beneath the blanket.

“Nelus Hennessy...” the boy responded to a question Jennica didn't hear. He could understand the black fox? What was it saying? Nelus didn't answer his mother. For all Jennica knew, he could've been told not to. Nelus sheepishly moved the blanket from his face. Shaking like a leaf. Absolutely terrified of the black fox. The boy wasn't familiar with his father's dialect but he recalled the elocution lessons from his high-elven tutor. Using it now, “Tha-thank you, milady... You are most... kindly.”

The vixen snuffled and appeared satisfied with whatever interaction took place here and left as quickly as she arrived.

Jennica breathed at last and dropped the knife, gathering her son into her arms and kissing his furry foxen face. That beast was a female? Could've fooled her! She begged him to tell her what the fox said. Nelus' features animated into a pout and she swore that, whatever the exchange, she wouldn't tell his father. He meekly answered, “She asked my name. Said it was a good name. Then she told me that she watches over daddy and now she had to watch over me too. And then she told me 'be careful' and 'don't hurt anyone'. If I gotta kill someone I gotta do it in my 'haybreed form'.” Jennica's eyes widened at that and Nelus was acutely aware of her alarm. Especially in the form he was still trapped in. “But hey, she called me handsome too! Said I looked like dad when he was a kid and-and told me to be 'proud I inherited a noble face'.” His tail wagged. Ears perked high, eager for his mother to ease with lightheartedness. The boy didn't read the venom directed at his mother coded in such a statement.

Jennica sighed, not wanting to burden her son with passive aggressive bull. She kissed his head once more, “I'm proud of you. You spoke like a true elven gentleman! Your tutor would be honored.”

Nelus felt as if he saved the day with that statement! The pride helped give him the fortitude to assume his half-elven form once again. He made a promise to his mom not to breathe a word about the black fox to anyone. Especially his father. By dusk the driver eventually arrived. He had to wake them since they fell asleep on the blankets curled up with each other. They were dutifully brought back home that evening and the driver was tipped very well. Issac would get word of the accident so Jennica didn't hide it. Her head wound would've been a dead giveaway. She told him of Nelus' transformation as well. Issac was crestfallen to have missed it, like a man who missed his child's first steps.

She never told Issac about the vixen. She never would.

Jennica scrutinized her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Seeing lines at the corner of her eyes. Seeing the uneven coloring of a sunny life on her not so supple skin. Seeing the imperfections of age. The head wound she received well over four years ago from the carriage accident left a scar that peeked out from her hairline. So did her silver roots. She hated them both.

Her friends, her son's friends mothers, her husband's workmates wives, they were all elven, dwarven, or a long lived half-breed. She felt like a relic alongside them. They always complimented her graceful aging and she politely accepted the compliments. In the end that only made her feel worse. Issac was as dashing as the day she met him 32 years ago and she was a hag. No matter how much elven cold creams, bathhouse visits, make up, or hair dye, she found the fight to stay young ever more futile. Especially when stripped of it all in front of her own mirror early in the morning.

She breathed through her nose to swallow her vanity and reached for her hair dye. The bottle was light. The bottle was empty! She scoffed in growing outrage. It was not empty last she used it, not nearly! “Dammit... NELUS!” She stormed out of her bathroom and into the hallway calling out her son with the fury her nickname deserved. It was early, she was determined to catch him before he left for school. Then...! She didn't have plans that far ahead, but she was gonna find him now or drag him home kicking after school! “NELUS HENNESSY!”

“Whaaaaat?” the ten year old boy's tone painted annoyance from the porch as he waited for his friends to arrive. They rode their small breed horses to school and he was always awake and ready with his saddle and books every day.

Issac peeked out from his office as Jennica stormed past it and went down the stairs. Curious as to what put his wife on the warpath this morning he set aside his coffee and quietly followed after her. Seeing her blood boil always filled his loins with subconscious excitement but he pitied his son for riling the dragon from his mother. He observed the scene from a perch at the bottom of the stairs.

Jennica's satin robe flew wide as she walked right up to her dumbfounded son. “You went into my bathroom again. We built you your own damn bathroom for a reason.”

Nelus stammered in a struggle to regain his composure, “I did not!”

“Then you let your friends go in there! I told you, keep your damn friends out of my things!”

“What are you talking about? Mom, I didn't do anything! My friends didn't do anything!”

She held up the empty bottle in a white-fisted grip, “Then why is this gone!”

“I-I don't know! Because you used it all?” His eyes went wide. That was absolutely the wrong thing to say. Issac wasn't quick enough to stop her smashing the bottle into the wall. Though Nelus was plenty agile to avoid it if she were aiming it his way. She wasn't. Nelus ducked and the pieces flew everywhere. His friends were right outside! This was humiliating! “MOM! What the hell!”

She didn't hear his friends and wouldn't give a damn if she did anyway. “You better ride your ass straight home after school and lock yourself in your room! You're doing nothing but schoolwork tonight! I don't wanna see you until I figure out what to do with you! And, I swear, if you're even a moment late, you'll come home and find I used your desk for firewood!”

Nelus petitioned his father with a desperate glance to find an ally against her insanity. He only received stern instruction to do as his mother told him. Nelus scoffed, grabbed up his things, and slammed the door behind him. Issac gingerly rested his hands on Jennica's shoulders. She shrugged him off and went to the kitchen and he followed after her, “Pleasant morning, my love?”

“Your son never respects my things! He's always moving them or letting his friends borrow them and he thinks I don't know. I'm tired of it! You realize how expensive dye is?”

An unsightly black splatter dripped down the white wall onto the molding. Little droplets of black were scattered and dripping everywhere on the porch wall and rug. Issac grimaced. That would surely stain. “Why do you wear that stuff in your hair? It smells awful.”

“Because if I don't, I’ll look a hundred!” she poured herself a glass of juice, and took the pitcher with her to flop down at the kitchen table. Never did a woman exist who could drink something so sweet with such potent bitterness as well as she could.

Issac sat with her and poured his own glass. “I think a century is a good age. And I'll have you know, I happen to like silver hair. It's a fine Hennessy trait. If the dye is expensive, forget it. You don't need it. You've been a vision of beauty unending since I met you.” She refused to don smiles for that sentimental drivel, even if it made her feel a little better. She just blushed and drank her juice, trying to stay angry. Issac pulled his chair closely next to hers and flirtatiously buried his nose into her hair. Chuckling with dark handsomeness when she couldn't help a giggle. “Mmmm... lilies in summertime and a hearth in winter. I like your natural scent. I'm afraid if you insist on wasting my earnings covering it up, I’ll have to take drastic measures and pour the bottles down your bathroom sink.”

She gasped playfully, “You wouldn't dare!”

“I'd recruit Nelus and his friends to the task. And I’d pay them too.”

Damn him, he never let her stay angry. She was laughing with him in no time. Then she was kissing his warm, tender lips. Ever as pawing and lusty as usual, her smile lingered close to his. Their breath sharing the sweet smell of fruit juice. Now she felt silly for being so enraged. She muttered admittance that she may have absentmindedly used all her hair dye and blamed her poor son. Though Issac wouldn't hear her apologies on the matter. Jennica did owe Nelus some kind of apology. She pouted, “I was starting to like the idea of having Nelus up in his room the whole night. It would leave us the rest of the house.”

“It would be even better if he was allowed to sleep over a friend's to escape his dragon of a mother and leave us the house... in it's entirety.” he slipped his hand across her satin covered breast and beneath her arm to her back, “I'll be the weak-willed parent and tell him he can hide from you with one of his friends for the night. He'll come back in the next day sulking, begging your forgiveness. I know you'll love that.”

She smiled. It was true enough. Besides, if Nelus did it, he would've admitted guilt the moment she approached him. The boy was predictably honest that way. But if he had time to stew, he would've tried an appeal to cull her temper. Losing her trust was just a terrible prospect for Nelus, he'd rather apologize for something he didn't do then lose it. Suppose then she'd let Nelus off the hook, after all. Issac was being very persuasive. So persuasive in fact, she shuddered in arousal when he pulled her onto his lap. He was so close. That eternal handsomeness, that body. She was reminded of it's tenseness when she controlled his lust their very first night together. The question just kinda came out of her, “Will you still love me when I’m no longer young and beautiful?”

The question struck Issac as strange, “You have a long time ahead of you before you should consider yourself anything but, Jennica. Losing the color in your hair isn't a true sign of age. It's experience. Happens to us all.” he ran his hand up her back and into her untamed morning hairdo and smiled so fine, “I shared my secret with you. Tonight, show me yours. Find a salon today and take this gunk from your head. And tell that tart to add none of their perfumes. Okay?”

She nodded and knocked his shoulder “It's your money, dear.” Bringing that smile to her lips again. They shared more passionate kisses before she tore herself away to get her day's errands done, which now included a visit to a salon to take dye out of her hair. That foppish elven hairdresser would have a heart attack.

Jennica returned in the evening with a stylish wrap on her head. The house was quiet. Still. Upon inspection of the usual rooms—Nelus', the lounge, the kitchen, her and Issac's bedroom, and even the back yard—there was no sign of her son. Or her husband. She sighed, shaking her head. Issac couldn't have possibly spent the whole day in that office. Approaching the door he always kept open she saw... he did. Well her hands were on her hips now. “Ahem.”

“Hello beauty.” His eyes glanced up from his work with a smirk on his face. “I heard you come in. Nelus is staying over at the Gladmace household. Likely to return with his tail between his legs tomorrow. And you smell amazing.”

“Hmph.” She sauntered over, knocking his arms from his work with her hip, and sat brassily on his desk. “I smell like nothing, you beast. Just water and odorless powders.”

“It's intoxicating.” He stood from his chair in front of her. Stepping between her legs and bringing his hand to the wrap hiding her hair, “May I?”

She shrugged, “You paid for it.” The tough act she put up made her easily attractive. When he removed her wrap and her salt and pepper hair cascaded like silk and moonlight past her shoulders, she averted her eyes self-consciously. She felt unremarkable. To Issac, though? She looked otherworldly. Jennica dared a glance and saw tear brimming awe in his eyes. She frowned, “You don't like it...”

A foxen grin filled his lips richly with wicked beauty. Were it not for the silence of the house she may not have caught his deep dark whisper. “You're so dramatic...” He pushed her skirt up her thighs, pulled her against him, and laid her on his desk. Knocking aside anything pointed or filled with ink. Edging close to the door but unable to free from her entangled arms, he kicked it closed.

Issac came back from an annual meeting of the four Executive Engineers. That stain was still on the wall and he sighed. If they weren't going to clean up their mess then he wouldn't either. He tossed his coat on a seat he passed and trudged up to his office with his portfolio. Papers were thrown about the hallway. Upstairs was a disaster! Were they robbed? “Jennica?” He heard her gasp from his office and ran over to find her tearing his drawers apart to try and find something. Standing shocked before outrage snuck in along side that, he shouted, “What the hell are you doing!” Heaven sake, he knew she hated the state of his office, but he had a certain order to the things there that she whipped about like a goddamn tornado! It was like she didn't hear him. A gaggle of papers flew past him when he thought to enter. Issac could do nothing but smolder at the door to his office, helpless to stop his wife from rending years of meticulous work about like a toddler having a tantrum.

“Hi Dad.” Nelus ran up to the door with some blank papers in his hand. Whatever she was tearing the upstairs apart for she had recruited the boy to the task. And he had no idea what to look for. He warily peeked his head in the door, “Mom, are these the ranger papers?”

She looked up to check and finally saw Issac. The elf hadn't even put down his portfolio, he was so angry. Those weren't the papers she was looking for. She flopped on his office chair and put her head in her hands. Now that she was no longer 'rearranging' his office, he finally walked in and dropped his portfolio on the desk with a loud slap. Issac asked before, so he felt the question didn't bear repeating. He just stood there and said nothing, expecting an explanation forthcoming.

Nelus opted to wisely stay by the doorway.

“I can't find Amirian's papers.” She sniffled and dropped her hands in her lap, “I'm pregnant.”

That was the first both boys heard of it. The anger in Issac didn't exactly fly, but he couldn't convince it to stay. Not with news like that. Issac stammered. Maybe he didn't hear her clearly, “You're...” slipping into elven as he usually did when flustered, “A child? We're having another child?”

“YES! Another damn child!” She hadn't been gripped with such fear since she stared into his vulpine eyes for the first time. She was too old to bare a child. How could she be pregnant now? She was nearly fifty for god sake! Issac breathed heavily. She could've sworn he'd be joining her in tearing apart the room for those papers at the news. What happened instead was he erupted in elation at it. Picking her up to kiss her. Promising to take paternity leave right away this time. He remembered the paper's smell, he'd track them easily. Why didn't she tell him first? She didn't have to tear the place apart for them. Between him and Nelus they'd be located. Mess? What mess? He scrambled about briefly lost before he gained his mind and decided to kiss her again.

Nelus hadn't ever seen his father this loopy before and took a step aside when Issac dashed from the room and quickly out of the house. “Wh...where's dad going?”

Defeated. She sat again and rested her elbow on the desk, her temple on her fingertips. “Asking his boss for time off.” Everything was still but her free hand. She stared at it, watching it shake beyond her control. It stilled when Nelus took it. She was so distracted by all this she didn't hear him stepping on papers to walk towards her.

“Are you gonna be okay, mom?”

She took a breath and smiled convincingly to her son. “Yes. I'm just... scared. Don't tell your father. He'll worry himself to death over it.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

He was such a little gentleman. Someday he'd turn into wonderful man and some lucky girl would be so privileged to be fawned over by him. Jennica kissed Nelus' cheek. Admitting to him she was scared helped to conquer her fear somewhat. Where would she be without her littlest fox? “Let's clean up. Maybe if we do that we may find the papers by chance. You never know.”

For the duration of her pregnancy, Mac, her cousin, and her cousin's wife came to stay with the Hennessys. Visits from the neighbors were fairly regular. Baby news brought out the excited and desperate alike. It took longer for Issac to arrange his office to the way it was before he found one of Amirian's papers and sent the Woodward a message. This time he didn't take any chances. He made sure to have a human midwife on standby. One his wife chose and trusted to train her body for what the midwife assumed was a usual birth. They didn't share their secret with the midwife, hoping that Amirian would make it on time and they wouldn't have to. That way Jennica would be physically prepared if it came down to the wire.

Unlike Nelus' birth, it was almost always a full house at the Hennessy's. They received many gifts. Highguard Larn's gift was Jennica's favorite. She couldn't stop laughing at it. A big bottle of the same drink he sent before and a sample sized version alongside it with a great bow tied around it's little neck. She was sure to send the old dwarf a cheeky thank you note for the thoughtful gift.

As for the name? Well... 'Trisha' would still name their girl. There'd be no other name fit for their baby girl. Otherwise Issac and Jennica couldn't agree on a boy's name. He wanted Thiemer and she wanted Efron. Issac argued that Thiemer was a strong name that would encourage silence and discipline in the child like the name Nelus did. Jennica insisted on the name Efron, it most closely resembled the only word she recognized for 'happiness' or 'devotion' in his strange elven dialect.

The dwarven Madam Gladmace interjected once—only once—on the pair's argument over it, “Doesn't it also resemble the high-elf female name, Efrayn, for Loud Singing Bird?”

She snapped a glare at the well fed dwarf lass, “YOU'RE not helping!” The dwarf lass never did that again. Hell no. They didn't call her Jennica the Dragon for nothing.

Around company she was joyful. Around Issac she was passionate. Around her family she was in control. Alone... she allowed herself to be terrified. Alone in her bathroom where no one would bother her, wrapped in Issac’s old coat she secretly kept. Nelus was perceptive. Children always are. Sometimes he visited his mother when she stole her moments and curled up with her in the coat, petting her belly. “I really like the name Efron.” he said to make his mother smile. He always could. When the baby was big enough to squirm, lively wasn't the word for it's dancing about. It loved company and kicked for anyone who wanted to handle Jennica's belly. Its dancing filled her with lusty eyes for Issac sometimes. Alone time with it's mother was the only time it treated her gently. When she felt scared, that overwhelming fear she couldn't show in front of her husband, laying her hand upon her belly was like her child comforting her. Not just the other way around.

The weather was growing cold, Amirian still hadn't shown, and she felt weaker. Tired. Nelus woke her one night because she slept all day in her bed. It was snowing heavily outside and he thought she'd like to see it. She groggily tried to decline until he pointed out, “Dad's getting worried with you sleeping all the time. You want me to get Grandpa Mac or send for the midwife?”

Jennica chuckled tiredly, “Alright you clever little politician. You've convinced me.” She threw the layers of blankets off her with Nelus' assistance.

Nelus gasped, “Mom! Are you okay? Your bed!”

Her bed? She looked down glassy-eyed and confounded. Her water broke and she never felt it. She felt no labor pains. Was this supposed to happen? It was far too soon. The midwife assured her she had more time. Nelus knew this wasn't supposed to happen. She wasn't the only one who listened to the midwife. That his mother wasn't panicking or even shouting draconic commands at a time like this scared him. Nelus' mind raced, don't panic, get dad, don't panic, get dad... He smiled for her and told her to stay in bed, that he'd be right back with dad.

“No... No... Get the ranger.... Amirian....”

“Uh...Amirian?” The midwife his dad sent for? The one who still didn't show? He nodded, “Yes, mom. Rest, okay?” In front of her, he walked out of the room in complete control. Once out of it, he went tearing down the hallway. Bracing the bannister he leapt down the entire length of the stairs and landed with agile grace. He burst into the sitting room where his father, Grandpa Mac, and his cousins were sitting around pleasantly talking. Panting like he'd run out of air any minute, he called, “Dad! Dad! The baby! Mom broke her water all over the bed! S-she didn't feel a thing! Dad get upstairs!” The boy turned on heel and ran right back upstairs expecting to be followed. He was.

Issac threw open the door eagerly. His hopes high that it was Amirian or the midwife or even Jennica's cousins returning with some birthing tools. Neighbors. Someone. Anyone but who he saw. Issac wasn't sure whether to growl or slam the door out of fear. He did neither. “My sister...”

The black haired elfmaid's joyless pallor fit most appropriately with the backdrop of the unforgiving snowstorm raging outside. Winter was her season, but not as she was now. She was under-dressed for the weather in that plain fitted dark gray frock. Shivering but not dignifying the involuntary reaction of what she considered an inferior form. But at the same time... she was dressed. A gesture that basely honored his 'territory'. “My brother...” She gingerly lifted her skirt from her bare feet and walked from the snow into the house without waiting for an invitation. “I regret to inform you, your Woodward midwife will not be arriving.”

He wanted to slam the door behind her, but for his wife's sake, he didn't. There was some force behind it, just a little. “What have you done?”

“Nothing. I suspect your message didn't reach him on time... or at all. I've found no trace of him anywhere near here. I took the effort to hunt him for you and turned up nary a track. Not even a dead hawk. You should've been wary to trust a Woodward.” She absently snatched a trinket from a table as she passed it. Her dress dragging wet trails along the floor. She scoffed, “It stinks of death in here...”

Now he growled, “Get out.”

“No.” Carelessly tossing the trinket onto a chair, the vixen turned, “Bring me to your mate.” Issac was hardly going to oblige to that request. He stood fast with an impressive show of murderous intent radiating from beneath his 'weak' elven form. She grinned. Her smile was always unsettling. “I'm not responsible for your missing Woodward. But that human midwife will find it difficult to fetch another vehicle in this weather and make it here in a timely fashion to address your problem. Horses are stupid creatures. So easily spooked. Your human family is being very helpful out there in the snow. So that midwife will arrive. Eventually.”

Issac's fury bore him tears now. His voice cracked, “Why!”

“The matter of our gift is a delicate one undeserving of that animal your mate entrusted to deliver your child. I brooked your trust in the Woodward and your first born is a shivering domesticated whelp because of it. I'm here to help you. Accept it.” Her smooth velvet veiled threat lingered in the air. A soundless: 'or else...'.

He relented and gestured for her to follow him, “You have a funny way of offering your help, you know that?”

She blinked at his use of the informal human tongue to her, taking it for exactly what it was. An insult. But she dared nothing. Not in his territory. Not with his mate in danger. Lifting her skirt to walk, she followed him to Jennica's birth bed, “I'm sure you felt it, my brother.”

Issac regarded her over his shoulder, seeing that unpleasant grin. Eyes questioning her quietly.

“A new moon tonight. How I pity you.” Issac grimaced and turned his eyes away as she genuinely, darkly laughed. Her 'good-natured' jives were as relentlessly caustic as her smile.

Nelus perked at attention when his father opened the door, standing by Grandpa Mac. All at once his hope came crashing down into fear at the sight of the black haired elfmaid. He didn't have to see her in her black fox form to know who she was. She fairly announced herself by her smell alone. Grandpa Mac stood, apologizing for staring off. All the windows were open to the snowy cold and Jennica's face was still drenched in hot sweat. But she breathed, though labored. And the babe quivered in her belly. They were both alive and it was a miracle at that. The vixen looked to Jennica. Seeing her silver and black hair. That fierce, pale, aged face refusing to die over this or take her babe with her. She approached the mother, ordering in what she assumed was a polite tone as she debased her tongue with human speak, “Leave.”

Grandpa Mac stood awkwardly, “This... this isn't your midwife, Issac. Who is she?”

“Amirian can't come in this weather, Mac.” Issac looked over at the vixen who shot him a look. Hateful at the thought of having to repeat herself. He looked back to Mac, “She knows my kind. The other midwife is on her way. Please take Nelus and wait in the hall for her.”

Grandpa Mac didn't like the look of that elfmaid. Didn't trust her with his only daughter. That elfmaid frightened the boy so much he had to yank his arm to get his attention. He didn't trust her... but he had to trust Issac. He left with Nelus and closed the door quietly behind him.

The vixen brushed her delicate fingernails across Jennica's belly before she opened her hand and rested it there. She felt Issac's protective glare and decided to ignore it. “Strong... but greedy. It steals the life from your mate to sustain itself as we speak. In short order it will have no life left to drink. Then it will suffocate and die.”

“Are you calling my child a vampire, vixen? I'd choose your words carefully if I were you.”

“Even I wouldn't disgrace you so, Dishonored Son. It's but the matter of childbirth.” She gently drew her had away and looked to him with a kind of childlike thoughtfulness that was out of place on her and in this situation. Was no pleasing look genuinely pleasing on anything but her true vulpine face? “She's too weak and small to bare your child. It must be cut from her or it'll die.”

“What about Jennica? She's not just some vessel that needs to be discarded. She's my mate.”

“I can guarantee her life. You know the price, my brother...” she gestured to Jennica's quivering belly. Issac said nothing. He stood there angry and helpless. Unwilling to pay such a price or make that kind of offering to his father. She brought her hands back into themselves and clasped them in front of her. Now deadly serious. In her long-yard stare there was truth. “Then I guarantee nothing but the life of the child. The fate of your mate will be in the hands of that animal you call a midwife. If you're willing to take that gamble...”

Jennica started to whimper and gasp in pain, mumbling for Issac. Screaming it when the pain became suddenly intense. He was at her side, having shoved aside the vixen gracelessly to be there. Jennica gripped his hand tight as talons. Stoking the fire in her eyes could've lit him where he knelt. “Get this greedy little shit out of me before I gotta pull it out myself! I don't care how many midwives you drag in here just get it out, you awful bastard!”

Issac smiled and directed his answer toward the vixen. Never taking his eyes away from his wife, “Do your duty then get out.” Jennica found his brave insults funny. Her head flopped on her sweat drenched pillow with a weak giggle. The vixen nodded, unceremoniously threw the rest of the blankets from Jennica, and went to task.

Meanwhile Grandpa Mac and and Nelus sat at the top of the stairs with their backs turned to the long hallway. So that, if the door to Jennica and Issac's room happened to open, the boy wouldn't see anything. It also provided a good vantage point on the porch for the midwife's arrival. Because of the weather, there would be no curious neighbors tonight. No one attending this birth but... family. Nelus heard his father sprint from that room to another and back again several times. Heard his mother cry out. He wanted to look but his Grandpa Mac wouldn't let him. There was no use in making polite conversation when both of them were so dreadfully anxious. Nelus leaned against his grandpa and Mac draped an arm around him. Reassuringly patting his arm and no more then that.

A wailing cry rang with impressive resound and the baby didn't stop. Well and truly here.

Nelus slipped away from Grandpa Mac and ran for the bedroom, not caring what kind of bloody business birth was. He had to see it!

Mac cried, “Nelus get back here!” The boy didn't listen. He went to the door and opened it wide enough to see and saw his father's arms covered to the elbows in blood. The scary elfmaid was removing something fleshy from his mother who, despite being covered in blood, was still alive and happily whimpering. There was the tiny baby in Issac's hands... It's cord still attached to it's belly, screaming and squirming about.

The elfmaid spoke aloud as if the formality was a chore, “You have a son. His name is Thie--”

“--Efron.” Issac interrupted her, coughing up a laugh at the sight of the squealing loudmouthed babe. Nelus saw the elfmaid's face. She didn't like that. Her eyes went wide as if he cursed at her. Issac continued, “His name is Efron Hennessy...”

The elfmaid huffed in uncharacteristic annoyance, “Have it your way. Will you bite the cord or shall I?” Nelus was yanked away from the door by Mac before he learned the answer to that question.

The midwife arrived to take care of the hastily sutured Cesarian-section the vixen did to hold Jennica together. It wasn't something Jennica would live with, just something to keep until the 'animal' arrived to patch her up with the appropriate tools. As if the vixen timed it all quite perfectly. But that couldn't possibly be the case...

Jennica was too weak for Efron to find her breast so Issac took him in a swaddled bundle so the midwife could work to restore her strength. Then he could try again.

The vixen declined an offer to hold the second son of the Dishonored Son. Not for lack of gratitude at the offer. She looked fascinated by the child he cursed with his human mate's chosen name. If perhaps Issac would reconsider her offer, she would gladly take the child into her arms. Issac frowned. That bargain would never be struck by him. Not now. Not ever. He turned his eyes away and asked her to leave. She did so. Leaving how she came, when she came: As the dangerous looking elfmaid in the plain dress out the golden door and barefoot into the snow.

Efron took to the breast the moment Jennica ignored the midwife's insistence she was too weak to and brought the boy to her bed by herself. Weak? Like hell. She recovered with energy to spare much quicker then when she gave birth to Nelus. Thank goodness for that because, unlike Nelus' infancy, Efron required constant attention. He liked to be held. He liked to be passed around. A real charmer. It didn't matter who he was with, Efron took to everyone. Efron laughed at nothing and would enjoy the devil if he smiled at him! Perhaps he'd even enjoy Issac's father... It was unfortunate the Werelord would never feel mutually.

Since his wife was so lively, Issac saw no signs of anything amiss. Distracted by his happiness so much so that he couldn't smell it when it came. Seeing Jennica with a baby again flooded his heart with warmth. It's a damn shame that Amirian missed it. Maybe if the Woodward got the message late he may yet arrive and see the finished product. Efron would like the ranger too.

A week in and Efron was colicky. When that baby cried it was hell. It exhausted Issac and Jennica. Sometimes Nelus had to pace around with the baby so his parents could sleep. He'd pat and rub his little brother's back and beg him to stop. When that didn't work he tried cursing quietly at him. Sometimes, that worked. Sometimes it made his baby brother laugh.

Jennica was invited to attend a children's party with her two boys. The neighbors who hadn't seen the new addition were eager to. Efron didn't let her sleep, of course. How she managed to gather the boundless energy to wake with the day was amazing to Issac. She insisted on doing her usual errands. Issac had to put his foot down and tell her to rest. He was a parent too. Why not let him take care of the baby? He was still on leave. He'd take the boys to the birthday party and she could relax in a nice quiet house. The other mothers would miss her but they'd get over it.

The morning of the party, Jennica was fixing breakfast in the kitchen for Issac, Nelus, and Grandpa Mac while Efron slept soundly in his crib upstairs. Every one there made a concerted effort to make sure the baby slept as long as he possibly could. They ate very quietly on non-crunchy food and their conversation leveled below whispers. Still, Efron began to cry. Like he was upset to be left out of something, even breakfast he couldn't eat yet!

Nelus rolled his eyes with a gushing adolescent sigh, “Oh by the—Efron shuuut uup!” Issac knocked the back of his boys head. He didn't raise a brat.

“Oh, can't be helped.” Jennica shrugged, “Can you imagine his first words? I swear, it's gonna be 'mom, I’m bored'! Poor thing's all alone up there. He probably knows we're talkin' about him.” She tossed a waxing rag onto the counter and walked past them toward the stairs. Issac rose from his seat and hurriedly followed after her, asking that she relax. It was her day to do that anyway. He was taking care of things. Jennica waved a hand, “I'm just gonna get him. I like holding him any--” Cut off mid-thought feeling suddenly dizzy, her forehead suddenly glistening sweat. She reached for a bannister she thought was there and collapsed into Issac's quick catch.

“Jennica?” Issac first confused that she was playing at something. Then she didn't respond. “Jennica! Mac send for a healer—Nelus, go to the Gladmace house!” Nelus protested out of worry but Issac snapped at him, his eyes flashed a startling amber, “Go! I said go!”

Mac brought Nelus out of the house that instant. The boy protested the entire way and Issac didn't hear him. Issac cradled Jennica in his arms, carrying her up the stairs to the guest room. They hadn't yet replaced the bed in their bedroom since the birthing. Only removed it. Previous guests had their stuff piled and sorted about this particular guest room. The bed wasn't even made, it was used too frequently. And Efron was such a handful that—oh hell, Efron! He placed Jennica carefully on the bed as if she were made of glass while Efron's wails hammered at at him from two rooms away. Efron, that's what Nelus was trying to protest about... It was all a whirlwind upon discovering the faint but acrid scent of infection. The idea of Jennica being sick, having been sick for some time and he didn't notice it, made him lose his wits.

Issac patted her cheek to wake her until her eyes opened. She woke but was very confused. Issac felt a fever on her when he kissed her head, then her lips. “Good, good... Please remain awake... I have to fetch the boy.” He put the slightest force against her chest with one hand just as she looked like she would rise. “Dearest dragon, trust me. I'll be only a moment.” She nodded and he dashed out of the room. First to Efron's crib, about to pick him up—he cursed. The bassinet. He ran into their bedroom and before he knew it he was tearing the room apart for the damn thing. It wasn't there so he revisited Efron's room. Of course, there it was. Where else would it be? He snatched it off the ground and scooped the boy into his arm, running back to the guestroom. A fortunate thing, in his graceless panic, he didn't trip over himself. He arrived to find Jennica asleep. Issac winced and spoke with a necessary loudness, “Dragon! Wake up!” That made the baby cry out a whole new octave, but at least she was startled awake.

He dropped the bassinet on the floor beside the bed, threw a pillow and some blankets in it, and placed Efron there with a lot more consideration for his delicate body then he had for the bassinet. Jennica lulled her head over the bed and smiled at Efron who was still crying in all the chaos. Cooing weakly to him and lazily wiggling her fingers over him with a hanging hand. “Shush, shhhh... Mommy's okay... No more crying now, you silly creature...” she smiled. Efron still cried but not out of fear. It's all children could do at that age aside from laugh or nothing at all.

Issac paced about, gripping the hair on the back of his head in a bundle. Trying to think of something to do but he didn't know where to start. “I sent Mac away... to-to-to find help. A healer. I should have kept Nelus here! I could have fetched a healer too... Shit!”

Jennica kept her hand dangling for the baby to be distracted by and rolled onto her back, “You know... your stalking about doesn't fill me and E... Efron with... confidence.” Keeping cheerful, even in her suddenly weakened state, “And watch your language... Little ears are listening.”

He crossed his arms in an effort to stop himself from pacing. The need to walk about was held back barely by fidgeting in place. “Do you need anything?”

“I could use a cigarette.” she smiled, he scoffed, then she chuckled. “I know... it's been years, but the occasion feels appropriate. Unless you drank... all that booze the Highguard gave you... That would just be rosy too.”

He dropped his arms at his side and walked over to the bed, crawling in it next to her. “Oh and what occasion is that?”

She lifted her arm in some kind of mocking grand gesture, “I. Am. Resting.” She smiled over at him and he laughed and kissed her. She kissed him in return. He could taste her sickness and made every effort not to appear to notice it. They withdrew and he pulled her against him. Acutely feeling her fever then. That was something he couldn't ignore. He sat up and started to remove his clothes. She whistled with bawdy admiration, “Oh goodness... is it my birthday? Well... it's some brat's birthday today... Happy birthday... let's get naked.”

“You're a treasure of obscenities, you understand?” He kicked his pants off and leaned over her. “Not very often I get to do this and you don't strike me for it.” That smirk. He gripped the neckline of her sleeping gown and tore it open. Ripping the gown so he could more easily remove it from her. Or at the very least have it laying beneath her.

She weakly giggled, “Is all this really necessary?... If you're lookin' to have more kids you better adopt... I'm done.” Her arms were a slack as she let him slip them from the dress, “What will dad say when he... arrives with that healer to... find us naked in bed?” Her whole petite, beautiful body was beaded with sweat, textured with goosebumps, and felt hot as a walkway in summer. Yet it shivered like she'd been standing in snow. Glancing at the side of the bed that Efron was on she noticed his crying had died down to mewling coos. “Well... if I knew getting naked did the trick I'd... walk around nude every nap time.”

“Imagine Nelus' surprise when he brings friends over and they find his ravishing mother walking around au naturale.” Issac tugged the layers of covers over them both and curled up tightly against her. Rubbing her skin and entangling her legs with his. She showed her first signs of a cramping pain. It was only a small wince but because he was so very skin deep with her right now, he felt it like it was his own.

They laid there quiet and awake for some time. He didn't like the feel of her breathing. It was hollow. Her breath was perfumed by the sickness he wished he couldn't smell. A staying attempt to sweat it out of her was all he knew to do until the healer arrived. And it felt like forever. She turned her back to him and nuzzled close, smiling when he buried his nose into her salt and pepper hair. Whispering out of weakness or courtesy for the baby, either made sense. “Efron's so quiet.”

“He is.” Issac felt her shiver when he calmly spoke. As if he had control of everything.

“When is the healer coming?...”

“Soon...”

“Oh. Okay.”

It was a strange thing, feeling life slip from you. It was a lot like fighting sleep as a child when you wanted to stay awake and know everything. You'd blink and miss moments and shudder awake like someone would steal your time. But time was slowly dancing from you the day you careened into the world. Or in Efron's case, pulled into it. Efron. She couldn't see Efron. She wanted to. He was so little and she didn't want to forget his face in case she had to find it again. What a ridiculous notion. Find him? He was just at the foot of the bed. She thought she fiddled her hanging fingers for him. It's what she told them to do. Issac kissed the skin behind her ear but wasn't aroused against her. How unfortunate, she thought. She wanted to remark something particularly bawdy about her expecting to see him in the heavens fully naked and standing at attention for her. The intention was there. The energy to form audible words past the small movement of her lips was all she could muster. Damn. That was funny. He'd miss it. And she'd just made him breakfast too...

Efron began to fuss.

Issac sighed. Did that blasted child ever plan on given them a moment's respite? “Efron, shush.” That made the baby's fuss flirt with the possibility of wailing cries. Who knew why that child cried all the time? Issac would give his house if someone could tell him. He kissed Jennica's neck and leaned up to catch a glimpse of the baby. The little one was all pouts and pathetic looking. Issac felt like the worst father in the world leaving him on the ground in a basket out of sight. “Alright, alright. I'm a terrible father. Forgive me, little one. I'll give you to mommy. That'll make her feel better.” He thought he heard her agree with him. Slipping from the bed and over to Efron, he lifted the tiny thing into the air and smiled to him, “You'll both feel better. Yes, yes, you will.” He swept the baby in, curling up his little warm body against his shoulder. Efron's head lulled heavy into the dip of Issac's neck. The boy was so small it took one hand to brace him.

He sat next to her to give her the baby and stopped. Canted his head. No. No, no, no... He leaned in to hear her breathing. He heard nothing. He smelled no sickness on her breath, he smelled nothing. Parting her silvery-moon hair from her face he found her eyes open. Staring off nowhere important. He swallowed a lump, “Jennica, no sleeping... I have the....” He was no fool. He knew what a death mask looked like. But there was still color to her cheeks and lips. Her skin was still flush from the fever! “Jennica!”

Efron caught his father's sorrow and began to cry.

Having the baby cry broke the last tether of sense he had. Whatever of it remained stayed long enough for him to put Efron back in the bassinet before he scrambled onto the bed and lost his mind. He couldn't form sense. All that came from him was elven, human, a mix of the two. He propped her up and hugged her. Kissed her that she might kiss back. Good sense buried beneath a wailing wall of madness knew she was gone. He curled up against the headboard like a gargoyle and cradled her small naked body so close. She had time. She had plenty of life, years of life before her! She was bright and alive not a few hours ago! He heaved breath, not wanting to cry. Cracking. Curdling out a pulsing great roar of bi-harmonic agony.

Mac returned with the healers to find Issac sitting against the headboard dressed only in his pants next to Jennica with a sheet drawn solemnly over her face. Efron laid in his bassinet that was now on the bed at Issac's feet. The only reason the boy wasn't crying now was because he exhausted such efforts an hour ago and fell asleep. Issac stared ahead with an expression so dark, so grim. Unlike any expression Mac ever seen on him before. Issac's eyes instantly saw them there, making such an insignificant shift which startled every man in that hallway. Like a statue come to life. He regarded them with emptiness and dropped his legs over the bed. Slipping from there to the door with a dangerous grace. It didn't even stir the boy's slumber. “Mac. Jennica is dead. Inform the Highguard I'll be in mourning.”

The old man gasped. Seeing his son-in-law like this he was, for the first time, frightened of him. “You'll be where, in mourning?”

“The household and my sons are under your care until I return.” And Issac left it at that. Leaving down the stairs and out into the snow in naught but a pair of pants. Mac never got the opportunity to ask him: when?

Issac pounced a deer into the hillock. The smell of spring was sweet. The taste of blood was sweeter. He didn't kill that beast because he needed to. Oh no, he wanted to. He gleefully tore out it's neck just to feel living flesh give way. When the deer gurgled and died a pathetic panicking death pinned to the grass by his maw, Issac's joy over the kill flew in an instant. He snuffled his snout about the body, searching for satisfaction in the corpse and he found none. Licking blood from his teeth, a yawning whine, Issac within his direfox form lazily left the deer in the knoll to rot.

Issac was the terror of this knoll, wherever it was. Ever since he arrived here, any creature he could catch he killed. Which was unfortunate for the creature. A goldmine for meat scavengers. He'd been here overlong though, and the animals grew wise to his rampage and avoided the place. The smart ones anyway. And the smart ones were the only ones worth the chase! Any wise predator would've moved on from such scarce game but not Issac. He stuck around here. Staked this knoll as his own and haunted it with his murderous grief.

How deep into spring was he? He left home early winter, saw a thaw, animals sexed and died. “'Death. Sunset. A season's change. All relative.' Isn't that what you said?” he growled out to the eyes he knew were always watching him that he never saw. Calling them out once more and once more receiving no response. “How many beasts must I kill before you dane to entertain me, my sister? The Dishonored Son longs for your thin little throat! Come out! Face me!” This call was met with the same wind as others.

After a time, Issac came to realize that no one was coming. It didn't sit with him well. He didn't know why he wanted anyone coming. Things like the vixen, friends like Amirian, ghosts like Jennica. They'd only serve to remind him of what he already knew well but avoided acknowledging. It was his carelessness, his absent-mindedness that killed his beloved wife. Every other friend he considered, even the ones who watched him wary and silent from the outside, warned him. She was a human and humans live shockingly short lives. Devoting yourself to a lightning strike when you're out to find the sun is bound to leave you wandering darkness... Someone told him that. He didn't remember who. His father? No. Such insight meant the Werelord was capable of concern and affection. If he was? Well, Issac couldn't even picture his father's face to place the script on his lips as a false memory.

He did Jennica's memory a disservice by coming here. It felt like the right thing to do at the time but it wasn't. There was the cliché that 'no matter what you do you can't bring 'em back'. If only a wiser man said 'every sin you make erases a little part of love's memory.' Until you're left with scraps of names you assume were at random places once. Did humans feel this? He still remembered her face now, but he was an elf. He'd forget it and be left with the pain of it's loss.

Which left him his... sons.

He breathed out and curled up on the darkest patch of grass. She was gone but his sons were very much another half of her that still remained. Bright and alive. Nelus would forget his mother's face long before Issac did and Efron would never know it at all! Honoring her memory and her bright shining life lied in his sons. There was nothing in this knoll but the funeral dirge of beasts that only etched away a bit of her with every one he killed. His sons, that's where she is. Where she always was!

He galloped from the knoll, bound for home. Eyes always watching.

He informed the Highguard of his return first before he went home. The old dwarf accepted the news without pomp or circumstance, offhandedly remarking that a seasons worth of work awaited him at home and dismissed him. Telling the lad, it was good to have him back. Not bringing her up.

When he returned home, his homecoming there was a bit more jubilant. The house was something of a sty. Mac was overjoyed to see his erstwhile son-in-law return safely. Issac looked like a different man. Mac knew the kind of man the elf was now. He and Issac now shared the same 'coat of arms'. The old man informed Issac that Efron was such a handful. He had to hire a part time nanny just to get some damn sleep. He also told Issac how Nelus refused to help with the baby or even look at him now. Nothing Mac said or did ever changed that attitude. And the boy's schooling was suffering for it. Issac patted Mac on the shoulder and told him to get some rest, hell, take the day off. Before Mac took him up on his offer he briefly introduced him to Efron's nanny that he hired. A knockout half-elven brunette with prodigious breasts. Issac glanced at the old man with a raised brow and the old man just shrugged and told him it was the only nanny that Efron would stay quiet for. Rapt was more like it. And it certainly had nothing to do with his own personal taste in... nannies. Issac smirked and let the old man have it. Whatever tamed Efron was good enough for him.

Issac opened Nelus' door and Nelus trampled through the mess in his room to hug him. So tightly that he swore the boy could reach back in time and make sure he never left! Quickly losing a battle with composure the moment he saw his father, Nelus even cried. Issac promised he'd never run off like that again. Then he was exhaustively made to swear on everything before Nelus was satisfied. Finally with trust sealed and tears aside he sat next to Nelus on his bed and asked for answers himself. Slagging off in school was completely understandable to Issac. Some grieve differently then others and he hoped Nelus never got used to the sorrow and carried it as an excuse to allow himself to fail. Nelus cast his eyes downward out of shame. Issac brought his son close and kissed his head. It was easier to be angry then forgive... or admit wrong. He leaned in, “Your brother needs us. We're all he has.”

Nelus sniffled, fiddling with an old worn wood carving of a dancing fox, “He's got a nanny and Grandpa Mac. He's fine. He doesn’t even cry anymore. Like he forgets that mom is dead.”

That stung. Though Issac came to grips with his grief, such things would never be painless. Children had the greatest gift of cutting to the quick. One had to admire that. He decided to speak to his son in elven. The truth was always better in that language, “He doesn't forget, Nelus, because he doesn't remember. He was with your mother the night she died and witnessed me in my greatest pain. He'll never remember that and so he'll never cry about it. All he knows now is comfort and happiness when he sees people he loves and sorrow when he doesn't get his way. Someday such nebulous traits will form a thinking mind and that mind will form a man. It is our responsibility to make sure the man he becomes is worthy of your mother's memory. He's the last precious gift she left us, Nelus... We must cherish it. Nurture it. Love it. Not throw it away. Do you understand?”

Nelus looked up at his father in awe at his wisdom. Feeling tethered, yet whole. He straightened his back and nodded. Like a soldier. Like a gentleman. Already fostering the spark of a great man.

Issac stood. He needed to get better acquainted with the new nanny to make sure that Grandpa Mac didn't just hire a prostitute to watch the boy. And the house most certainly needed cleaning. Desperately. He left the room and young Nelus decided to follow his father out into the messy hallway.

Issac shifted aside some drafts he just pressed his seal on from his desk to make room for a new step in the ongoing project. It was time to prepare... just more.... endless goddamn paperwork. He chuckled to himself and leaned back in his chair. Pulling strands of dark-silver and black from his youthful face. There were the faintest lines of experience, of worry. They cracked his smile to dimples. Dulled his eyes tame. Darkened his brow with fatherly worry. He was ever as handsome now as he was some sixty-six years ago, the very night a ravishing, dark haired, hazel eyed, petite beauty took him by the hand and—as of yet—never let go.

He caught the sound of girlish giggling in Efron's room and sighed heavily. Slapping the arms of his leather office chair and he stood. Sauntering slowly to his always-open office door to halfheartedly investigate the hushed commotion. He needn't go too far. Only as far as leaning on his door frame before Efron's bedroom door cracked open and a short, pretty elf girl with a blonde bob went slithering out of it, holding the clothes she didn't need in order to leave decent. Issac watched his handsome, lusty, topless teenage son steal one last kiss from the pretty elf at the threshold to the bedroom before he cleared his throat. The girl shrunk with a blush when she was caught but she wasn't overly concerned. After all, this was Efron's house. What happened here, stayed here.

The pretty elf nodded with meek politeness to Issac, “Morning Master Hennessy...”

He nodded right back, “Morning.” The girl was out of the house in an instant. When she was safely gone he looked back to his son who was just leaning off the wall from a dreamy-eyed stare he cast at the departing elfmaid. “You realize what hour it is? Who's that?”

“You remember her, Papa. That's Eleanor.”

“Can't say I do.”

“Hmph.” Efron pouted, “That's a shame. You need to get out of that office more. Get yourself some apocalyptic tail. You're always so wound up. One or two of my friends have a crush on you, you know.” He went into his room and flopped loudly on his messy bed. Not bothering to shut the door, his father would only open it up anyway. He was right. And his dad was standing there with his arms crossed like a sentry that could come alive if you blinked. Efron rolled his eyes, “You're so dramatic, Papa.”

“This is a home, not a brothel, son.”

Efron laughed and threw his arms open, “It can't be a brothel, I haven't made any money!”

“If it's not a brothel then stop pimping your girlfriends off on me. This house has gotten enough traffic within the last three years that I should need to acquire a brothel license! And I don't feel like competing with the nearby cat-houses. Efron, why can't you--?”

“EFRON!” Nelus' telltale shout resounded crystal clear from all the way in his room at the end of the hall. Hell, what was it this time? Just when Issac got his foot in the door to reign Efron in, something else always, always popped up. Often screaming.

Efron shrugged and bounced from his bed, past his father, and into the hallway. “Yeees, Nelus?”

Nelus' door flew open and he stomped into the hallway, disheveled and half dressed, right up to Efron's rakish mug. “Where the hell are my dress shirts?”

“You... have dress shirts.”

“I had dress shirts!”

“Oh! Right. Azreth and I are going to borrow them tonight. We need them for a party and they had to have the the uh...” he gestured to his own neck as if the name would be instantly etched in his mind by magic, “...funny looking high collar they make officers wear. But we'll bring em back when we're done! Azreth's having them professionally cleaned. It'll be like we never wore 'em.”

“How 'bout you don't take my goddamn dress shirts in the first place!” Nelus pressed his fingers to a growing vein on his forehead in an effort to bite back the rage. Nope, that didn't work. “Efron, these are cadet dress shirts... If I’m caught during inspection without the proper shirt I’ll get written up. I know you know what that means!”

“Look, how about you borrow my shirts? A shirt's a shirt, right?” He looked to his father and then back at his brother as if he was a jester and this was all one big show. “So long as your jacket is buttoned high, they'll never notice. I don't see what the big deal is.”

“Cavalry dress shirts, Efron. You have cavalry dress shirts. I'm NOT cavalry!” And there flashed Nelus' amber eyes. No one was as experienced at riling up Nelus' otherwise subdued vulpine blood like Efron was. Nelus cursed at Efron in some language Efron didn't get the hoity-toity privilege to learn in an officer's academy. Then he got furiously close to his little brother, eye to eye. If it were anyone else but Efron, Nelus might have commanded terror, “My shit is NOT your shit!... It's not your friend's shit... It's my shit.”

“Your shit?” Efron canted his head.

“MY SHIT!”

“But I don't want your shit, I want your shirts.”

Issac snorted a laugh and coughed to cover it.

Nelus stood confounded for a good long beat. Then he went vulpine in an instant and lunged for his jovial little brother who went vulpine as well if only to protect himself.

Issac finally intervened and shoved them both strongly to opposite walls. He didn't need to call on his vulpine blood to subdue his sons' quarrel. “Alright, ALRIGHT! Enough, the both of you! Nelus, go in my office and search my closet for a shirt that fits and use it. They're not cadet shirts but the collars are close enough. You'll get your stolen shirts tomorrow. Cleaned and pressed courtesy of Azreth's coin purse, apparently. Accept it.” He swiftly glared from Nelus to Efron, “YOU! Stop taking your brother's things. You want an officer's shirt? You have money. Buy one from a pawn shop! Dammit Efron, you're smarter then this... Your brother's closet is not your personal thrift store! And stop using my house like a red-light hotel or I swear I’ll forbid you to EVER bring any female friends in my house again! Understood?”

Nelus grimaced and subdued the vulpine blood, returning to normal and excusing himself to his father's office to fetch the dress shirts. Efron wasn't as able to change back so quickly but he eventually did. Then he hemmed and hawed and protested. Issac narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, “You want me to forbid you go to this party then? You think I won't stop you? I’ll break your horse's legs. ”

Efron gulped, wide eyed. He knew his father would never do that but the elf seemed pretty damn capable of it. He nodded quickly, “Yeah yeah, consider me behaved.” He put his hands up and backed up into his room, shutting the door fast behind him. Soon after that, Nelus emerged from Issac’s office, silent, an arm draped with a few dress shirts. He was practically glued to the wall as he cautiously walked on by his imposing looking father and sprinted into his room at the final stretch. Slamming the door behind him.

 With both boys sequestered in their rooms, Issac rested a knuckle against his mouth as he quietly hid laughter. With Nelus now a strapping man approaching his thirties, bound for an officer's title and Efron a wild and untamed teenager who threw himself into a passion for girls and a passion for cavalry alike, the elf was still impressed he could command such respect and discipline in them. Even as they were now men themselves. To Issac, he looked at his son's faces and could still see them as children. Still see Jennica. Especially in Efron's wild eyes.

Making his way back to his office and back to oceans of work, Issac shook his head, “'I don't want your shit, I want your shirt.' That's good one...”