Legacies to Leave

[Gilhert Greysand]

The way to Kango's court was longer than Gilhert remembered, and the city was so much busier. The Links was perpetually moving, a scrambling creature of civilization, but its streets were more numerous and denser with beasts, moisture tarps, and tents than what the fox remembered.

The smell, always distasteful, grew thick in the heavy, hot air the closer Greene led him to the king's abode.

Kango's tent, the largest of all in the Links and always in the center of the Shackles, was covered in banners that showcased colourfully embroidered symbols and shapes. A white feather against a bright blue field accented with cabochons of buffed chalcedony, a malachite-bead spear above a wavy river flowing across a black background; each of the five clans had a sigil devoting themselves to their king.

Greene bid him approach the tent after a brief conversation with the guard on duty, who disappeared into the tent before returning. The guard held back the flap for them and ushered them inside.

Gilhert felt more crowded than he had at Albi-Lee's haberdashery. While richly dyed and thick wool carpets hid a simple dirt floor, sturdy tables and chairs dotted the main room. All about the place were tokens of the king's privilege. Painted pots of tobacco, carved statuettes and pipes, a set of blown glass drinking cups, all scattered about and left to linger unused amongst other treasures and art.

Such fine things left unappreciated, Gilhert lamented.

A heavy curtain flung to the side and the Chainbreaker stepped through the threshold. Tall, broad-shouldered, Kango cut a figure of strength as his muscles rippled beneath his brushed fur. The curved antlers protruding from between his ears marked him as the unmistakable king and the beauty of the many gems set into his circlet was almost lost beneath the magnificence of his many points. Peridot, turquoise, fire agate, amethyst, garnet: a stone for every clan lining either side of a pure and precious diamond. Kango looked first at Greene and then, with a broad smile, at Gilhert.

"Gilhert Greysand!"

"Always a pleasure," Gilhert replied, a paw upon his chest as he dipped his chin. "Although this time might be an outlier."

"You've noticed the state of the Links, then."

"I've noticed a lot of things, Chainbreaker. Your city is growing, quite a bit. I, myself, came in alongside an entire town that had to flee a disastrous affair."

"The drought," Kango grunted. "Another one, eh? Which?"

"Sandsline. A formerly nice distillery community...until fires worse than the heat of summer scorched their soil. They follow a prairie dog named Sylian."

Kango's face twisted unpleasantly, his snout wrinkling. "I know of Sandsline. Sylian fought beside me at the Chasm Canyon. Sandsline produced some of the finest gold mezcal. Pity."

"Yes...pity," Gilhert hummed. "Those displaced folks arrived today, some of 'em still trickling into the outer streets of the Shackles. They need help."

"Of course they do," the hare sighed, running a paw over his face. "Everyone does. That's why they're all here, hoping I have some magical solution to this catastrophic sickness that has seized the South."

Kango lowered himself into a high-backed wattled chair, gesturing for the fox to take up a seat of his own.

"Not the city you intended to build, but it's the one you have to sort." Gilhert finally looked up at the hare. "Tell me, Your Grace, I'm curious. How many of the locals came here because of bad crops, hunger, sandstorms, fires?"

"Livestock is suffering, too; the Beastmasters can't keep up." Kango dryly added. "The city increased by at least two fold this season. Now, on top of everything else, the shifting populations means tributes to the city from the clans are diminishing. We're feeling the squeeze of the drought no matter where the city goes."

"Well, I'm afraid it's going to get much worse. The South needs water, and we are drier than a hawk on fire."

"I know," Kango groaned, slouching over the table beside his seat. He pawed absently at a short penstemon-shaped glass.

Denner made, of course, Gilhert thought as he noticed the craftsmanship.

"I've called you here to ask for your advice, Interpreter. Years ago, you helped me, helped the South. You spent weeks searching out a suitable water supply for a city that would be as grand as the Gila capitol had been. When there was none to be found, you were honest with me. It couldn't be built, and you saved the clans from a failed dream. You didn't pander, Greysand; that's how I remember you, and that's why I called on you."

Kango shot whatever was in his glass down his throat and slammed the cup back down.

"Can you help me save the South again?"

From somewhere nearby, Gilhert caught the scent of cooking food and campfire smoke.

"No," he answered, pushing down the acid that bubbled in his stomach, threatening to rise up his throat and sting his truthful tongue. "Nobody can, Kango."

Kango was silent, contemplating the interpreter's answer. It wasn't until an old bat with white patches on its pelt came bearing an ornate tray of cheese, cholla fruit and saguaro seeds. The creature's shaking paws barely held the tray up and Gilhert resisted flinching at the loud noise the platter made when it was weakly dropped onto Kango's table.

"Thank you, Derma," Kango said with equally loud volume. The bat didn't budge, and Kango sighed before trying again. "I said THANK-YOU, Derma!"

"Dare I ask for a drink?" Gilhert said through a bemused smirk.

Kango ushered the old bat to the door while her low voice asked what her king needed from her. When the hare returned, he sighed and chuckled with Gilhert.

"She's so old, and has no one to care for her," Kango explained. "She's like a mother to me, when she remembers who she is. Makes her the perfect confidant."

Gilhert smiled, ignoring the alarmed cry of Greene and the guard, both of whom were vocally attempting to steer Derma somewhere she was not interested in going.

"So, you believe the South is lost to the drought?" Kango asked, picking up a single seed from the platter.

"I do," Gilhert said with a solemn nod. He reached into an inner pocket on his vest, producing a thick notebook which he opened and showed Kango a glance of its filled pages. "I've been observing many places around the South, civilized and not so much. It all adds up to disaster. Now, I see a town burned to the ground around me and I come here to get them help only to find out it wasn't a unique occasion. Crops are failing everywhere. A single snake of lightning could ignite the kingdom-"

"Not a kingdom," Kango said, his jaw clenched. "I am not a king."

"Oh my, my, is that what you believe?" Gilhert drawled. He sneered and lifted a brow. "Is that why everyone south of the Nightmare Forest has gathered around you? Because you're NOT their king, and they HAVEN'T followed you loyally for years?"

The hare raised his paw to point at Gilhert before letting it drop in defeat.

"For a royal antlered hare with the ancestral blood of the Crowned Ones, who liberated all the clan territories by waging war against our enslavers, you sure do let yourself shiver in the cold."

"It's...difficult to see myself as a monarch. After all, the Gila Empire reigned for generations. I never inherited my crown like my ancestors did before it was stolen. I was handed my title..."

"By the folks who have faith in you. More deserving than some of your ancestors, no doubt."

"They don't need faith, they need water!" Kango snarled into the air, slamming a fist into his unclenched paw.

"Fresh out."

"Exactly. Exactly, Greysand, and that's why I want your advice. You said it yourself, everybeast south of the great dark woods, the Nightmare Forest, will follow me. What if...what if I took them north, into the woods. Into the trees that have remained unexplored for longer than the Gila Empire controlled the lands. When the South was born free, even back then nobeast would step paw into that place; who knows what bounties we could find!"

Gilhert stared at the antlered hare, fighting the backwards curl of his lips at such a wild idea. He lowered his glasses from his face, cleaning them with the hem of his vest. Taking his time to ponder Kango's pitch, Gilhert ignored the unblinking eyes looking at him.

"Where there are trees," Gilhert began slowly, raising his glasses up to inspect his handiwork, "There is water. Land likely suitable for agriculture."

"So, you agree-"

"I'm not agreeing to anything," Gilhert said sternly, noticing how Kango's eyes widened at being interrupted. The fox took a deep breath. "Trees are a good thing, always are. But they don't necessarily mean anything. The forest could turn out to be as sickly and miserable as the South is."

"The forest has no Gila master to pine for," Kango growled, standing from his chair and heading for the doorway Derma had left through.

"Derma, pulque!" the hare yelled.

Gilhert tilted his head, his large ears perking up. "The South does not miss such masters, Kango..."

Kango's crunched face smoothed with the fox's gentle tone, and he once again made his way to his seat.

"The people don't, no, but I wonder if the lands preferred a crown of scales to a rack of antlers."

"Aw, son," Gilhert breathed out, at last sliding into his chair adjacent the king. He pulled his pipe from his vest and fished a few pinches of tobacco from the untouched pot upon the table. When he finished packing the bowl, Gilhert placed the grinning crocodile delicately between his teeth before lighting it with sparks from his striker. He puffed once, then twice, then offered it to Kango.

"No one, not a single soul, would hesitate to follow you into the forest. It's just that the forest is the metaphor many of us sandkickers use to describe a very unpleasant afterlife, not to mention all the moral-teaching tales abuelas tell their grandpups. Might be a hard sell to some."

"Is death that preferable? Would my people rather die of thirst and hunger? Burn in the fires that are razing the clan lands?"

"How many fires are burning, exactly?"

"You tell me, Interpreter!" Kango barked. "Sandsline burned, you say, and just these last several days I've heard of a great fire creeping northward."

"Death or potential death," Gilhert chortled. "After what most of these city folk have seen, I'm willing to bet they'll take their chances after all."

"Good," Kango said, nodding and dragging from the pipe. "Good. I have a mission for you, Interpreter."

"The gila will retake the lands if you take us north," he cautioned Kango before the hare had a chance to explain. "That's a harder sell to make, for many of us. How many of your faithful Rings were lost even before the real fighting started? I did my part in the revolution, and I lived to tell my tales. Many didn't. Many lost folks who deserved their lives."

"And many more will lose their lives if they stay here, thus squandering the sacrifices of their friends and families," Kango coldly countered. "I can't force anyone to leave, but if they chose to stay then they chose death. I didn't free the South just to take away the choices of my people." His face twisted into a knowing sneer. "Besides, most of the gila are dead, and those who cowed into the Skinned Ones clan are watched very closely by their bitter cousins."

When Gilhert remained silent, Kango returned his pipe with a smug look.

"You will take several of my Rings. You will find a route to the forest, and you will use every skill you have, every crumb of knowledge, and you will find me a place to build a city."

Gilhert clenched his teeth so as to not let his jaw drop. He squinted for a moment at the hare before his eyes drifted in thought, roving over each trinket, each treasure in the tent that Kango had so lovelessly shoved out of the spotlight.

He began to polish his glasses again, fogging them with his breath.

"Rather dangerous work," Gilhert said. "I'm not as young as I used to be. Are you sure you don't want a nice young back, strong and full of teeth?"

"I don't need youth, I need grit, and I need the wisdom only an interpreter as experienced as you could give me," Kango brushed aside Gilhert's concern, turning his had to carefully watch Derma emerge from behind the doorway flaps, another tray with two glasses and a tall bottle shaking in her wrinkled paws.

"Your party will be sent with supplies courtesy of me, of course."

"That's fine and dandy. Now, say I find a nice spot beneath a big ol' tree in that forest. Say the wife likes it, too. What'll happen when I come all the way back south just to take ya'll up northward again?"

Kango cocked an eyebrow at Gilhert, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"You stake your claim on whatever patch of forest ground you want to til, Greysand. When I build my city, your new home will be honored. You deserve it, for helping me save the South."

The fox's maw broke into a wide grin. He dropped his glasses and let them hang.

"Oh, my, my... who am I to say no to a beast in need."

Kango beamed.

Right as Derma began to fight with the bottle's cork, the guard outside announced the arrival of a Ring beast. Gilhert gently took the bottle from Derma and, sending her away again, opened and began pouring the pulque into the glasses. 

"Sister!"

Kango jumped from his chair and Gilhert rose respectfully from his. Turning and expecting another hare, the fox couldn't help but snort when he saw a veiled prairie dog wearing the robes of a Zephyrite, her wrists barren of fur.

"Chainbreaker," the prairie dog greeted her king, jaw taught and eyes oddly focused. Kango frowned at her, a trace of confusion on his face.

"What did you find out, Siroc?" Kango urged her on.

"The target...proved an incredibly dangerous foe." Siroc looked to Gilhert before her glance changed in askance to Kango.

"Go on!" the hare ordered her, eyes glinting with an eager thirst. Gilhert sat back down in his chair, watching the exchange with a bored expression.

"The four previous Rings to attempt to put down the fugitive were unsuccessful for good reason. By the stars and moon in the sky, the clever traps and tricks that skinbag threw at me! He was dangerous before he was cornered; once in his lair, I felt I was the one who was hunted."

"What happened? Did it know anything of the drought? Was the wretch somehow...powerful?"

Gilhert's ears perked up as he sipped at his drink.

"Scorpio was indeed...powerful," Siroc said shakily, swallowing hard after the words forced their way from her throat. She shook slightly, shivering with the weight of what sounded like a whispered confession, staring intently into Kango's wide eyes. Gilhert held his breath.

"Kango, what you said to me before, I should have listened more openly. The gila, he showed me his powers and he told me of his curse."

"He was responsible..." Kango growled, paws clenching at his sides. He breathed deep, cinching his eyes closed before allowing himself to loosen.

"Kango, it's worse than we knew. He..." Siroc trailed off, staring hard into the distance before she shook her head. "He can not...I couldn't..."

"What?" Kango asked, then he snapped again, "What?!"

"His spells, his strength... His death could not be achieved!" Siroc barked.

"NO!"

Both Siroc and Gilhert's ears flattened at Kango's roar. He glared at Siroc, brandishing an accusatory claw at her.

"He got away from you?!"

"Kango, please...He was terrifying, and so powerful. He conjured quicksand from a cave floor and summoned giant rocks from the very air to hurl at me... His poison spittle, it melted stone, Kango!"

"Then he MUST die at ANY COST!" Kango snarled.

"The other four before me-"

"You gave up, Siroc! You have FAILED me!"

Gilhert tapped his pipe out onto the tabletop, sweeping away the ashes with a careless paw. Spells, rock-melting poison, magic quicksand, a single beast responsible for the drought? Kango was desperate, the fox determined, desperate and frightened enough to believe such utter nonsense.

"Oh, my, my," Gilhert hummed, frowning sadly as he picked at a piece of cheese. "Four before her, Your Highness, that is quite the pickled pepper. No wonder you're so confident folks will follow you northward, Your Grace, what with beasts like your gila out there, not watched by any Skinned Ones."

Kango's eyes raced between Siroc and Gilhert, unsure of who to be most cross with.

"With his death, the curse wouldn't have been lifted. Its cure would have died with him," Siroc pressed. "His power is beyond any of us. I'm sorry."

Gilhert held back a scoff, pitying the poor Long Tooth that had been given a task far beyond her capabilities. The gila had probably boobytrapped his lair beyond her own cunning. She may not have been a coward, but her inability to find her way through a monster's deathtrap was dooming her before her king.

"Sounds like she had no choice... A critter that can conjure quicksand and hurl boulders? Well... seems like she just didn't stand a chance. Seems the Ring isn't strong enough, four of 'em gone already." The fox slapped his knee, shaking his head. "Four, oh, my, my, FOUR of 'em! Not like back in the day, eh, Chainbreaker?"

Siroc shot the fox a look, her lip curled slightly.

Kango's teeth ground violently together as he stood, foot tapping aggressively at the ground. He raised his paw to Siroc.

"You will make up for this. Perhaps I expected too much of you, being alone after being in the company of...so many, for so long. No longer shall you be alone, Sister. You will accompany Greysand north. You will protect him from whatever may do him any harm. You will see him to the Forest. You will see him back to the Links when he has found the South a proper place to make its home. This is your duty. Preetya will accompany and help you."

Siroc seemed oddly reserved, her shoulders stiff and chin high. She kept herself composed and disguised any fear or complaint she may have had.

Not bad, little lady, Gilhert thought. You got your tail stuck in this wallow, after all, so you take your lumps.

"Greysand, I expect you to choose your party quickly. Report back to me in no more than a week."

"Happy to help," Gilhert replied, finishing his cup.

~*~

As fox and prairie dog departed the tent, Gilhert watched her composed pace turn into a rampant march as she fled to wherever she intended to go.

"Huh, no 'thank-you'? I could have let Kango splinter your toes..."

He set off towards the west of town, chatting with various beasts along the way until he found himself heading to the southern half of the eastern Link. An octagonal lodge made of flexible wooden poles and warm felt walls offered spicy smells of a dinner that beckoned to him.

"Mister Greysand?" a ringtail greeted him as he pushed through the tent's heavy entrance curtains. "Your wife and, uh, friend are waiting for you!"

"Oh, there you are, darling!" Arize's voice, as if on cue, called from beyond the vestibule.

All throughout the dim interior of the enormous tent, light woven frames separated rooms and sage bundles burned in each corner in painted clay vases. The air was heavy, lit up only by a hearth in the middle of the main room that wafted smoke through a hole in the ceiling. On the coals baked potatoes rolled in salt sat beside oiled peppers and a large black pot of simmering floral tea with nut milk. A small spit with speared crickets perched over the heat, steaming as they roasted.

Gilhert spied Arize's head over one of the reed panels and trotted over to her. They brushed their whiskers against each other's faces and Gilhert sat at their dining mat.

"Evening, Mister Greysand!" Timbones excitedly greeted the fox. "What did the Chainbreaker want?"

Gilhert helped himself to several hot crickets that had been laid out on a plate beside toasted crackers with cheese, his eyes shifting around to make sure they remained alone.

"Kango wants my help with an expedition," he said quietly, watching Arize's face. "Northwards."

"How northwards?"

"As far north as the South kingdom extends, and then some."

Arize's face twisted for a second before she hastily took a sip of her tea.

"You mean...the cursed Green Forest?" Timbones gasped.

Gilhert nodded. "Wants to see if there is water in the woods." He stared at Arize until she met his eyes; his claw trailed over the rings on his left paw before he trailed it up his chin, across his mouth, and through his whiskers.

Arize nodded shortly at the silent signal, clearing her throat before she took a sip of tea.

Timbones, meanwhile, sat up straight and shuffled nearer to Gilhert.

"What about the shadows that are said to lurk within the trees? Or the giant monstrous beasts with teeth as long as your tail and claws that cut through steel?"

"There are creatures in the South that I've seen what would match those giant monstrous beasts and maybe even best 'em, too. I've seen a lot of things along my way. Curved Claws bigger than any badger that move as silent as a cloud, Denners more enormous than a coyote and can sing louder than any storm."

"Wolves?" Timbones said, nose crinkling in hesitation.

"Oh, my, my, yes, wolves. Now, them Curved Claws called themselves the 'Puma' people but their prey call them 'panthers'. Some old lost word meaning a creature that kills silently. Very grim, and stronger than any wolf."

"Incredible!"

"Haha! Yeah, you're not wrong, my boy."

"Are you scared?"

"Naw," Gilhert drawled with a chuckle. "Ol' Antlers will be sending me with a few of his own Rings to keep me safe."

A clatter from outside the tent silenced all within for but a few seconds until the noise of a beating drum and sticks being slapped together passed by. The patrons of the lodge resumed their evening while Timbones looked from the foxes to the entrance.

"What was that?"

Gilhert chuckled and gave Arize a glance. She ignored him, blowing on a hot roasted pepper until it was safe to slurp up.

"Who knows what that was. Some kind of show, maybe; folks like to parade about the streets and lead interested patrons to their stage that way. There's lots going on in the Links. It's a beast that never sleeps."

Gilhert grunted as he stood, then made his way over to one of the cots pushed against a woven reed wall. He dragged his bag out from under the cot and began digging around inside.

"Here, Timbones," Gilhert said when he reappeared. In his paw, he held out a gila skin pouch that jingled when he tossed it to the squirrel.

Timbones caught the bag with a practiced paw, picking it open and gasping quietly. He pulled a length of small, silver chain out, eyes widening as he silently counted how many links there were.

"Mister Greysand, this is a lot of money... I dont think I've ever seen a chain this long before!"

"Well now, it ought to keep you entertained quite well for the evening!" Gilhert exclaimed with a wide grin. "You go see that show, explore the city, see the sights. There's lots to do in the Links!"

"Make some friends with the locals your age," Arize added. "Have them show you around and get a treat for everyone. And make sure you don't go bragging about how many links you have there. Don't go flashing that chain about, either! Stay out of dark allies and make sure you're getting a good, fair deal on anything you buy!"

"Aw, he isn't a child, Arize..."

"No, but he doesn't know the streets!"

"Oh, thank you!" Timbones breathed, voice trembling as he stuffed the chain back into the pouch. "Thank-you so much! You're so kind to me..."

"You're a good fellow, Timbones," Gilhert said while he twirled a whisker about his claw. "You've been through a lot, lately, and deserve something nice."

"If you happen to run into Missus Albi-Lee, give her a link for her trouble," Arize said quietly, her eyes drifting down.

"You finished supper?" Gilhert asked.

"Yeah, thank you!"

"Good, you'll need the fuel to keep you going. Have a good time, Timbones. The wife and I have to talk business for a bit, but we'll be here when you get back."

When Timbones' tail was finally out the door and the young fellow's thanks had faded after whatever entertainers had passed by earlier, Gilhert settled back into his seat and picked at a few pieces of food.

"Kango wants...to go into the Forest?" Arize whispered when Gilhert had finally swallowed. He nodded, glancing around before leaning over the mat.

"Wants to move all five of the Walking Stones into the forest. Thinks we'll escape the drought that way."

"And he wants to send you in first?" the vixen asked, her eyebrow raised.

Gilhert looked carefully at his wife, seeing her unimpressed face and noticing her curled lip. He gave her a single, silent nod.

"Why?"

"Because I'm the best. I helped him before, remember, long time ago."

"After the revolution, yes, I remember you couldn't find what he wanted because it didn't exist," Arize all but hissed. "That daft war-addled rabbit is used to sitting on a stuffed pillow and not having to work for his bread. His ideas are as soft as his gut has gotten, I'm sure. He can't possibly expect anyone to go willingly into the woods?"

"Well, now, he may have a point," Gilhert cautiously replied. "The forest is so far untouched by the dry curse and it is big enough to support a lot of folk."

"He can't get all five clans to ignore everything we've ever known about that wretched place since before the Gila reigned!" Arize chided, waving her paw about dismissively. "He just wants to try and have his throne city dream, and not look for a solution that could actually fix this...crisis!"

"Not much one can do about this drought, Arize," Gilhert said, frowning as he rolled a roasted cricket between his fingers. "With some of the things Kango told me, things are... unsalvageable."

"Do you think anyone willing to make that trek would possibly settle there without a fuss?"

"If there was proof, land studied and mapped out, to show them it was possible, yes," Gilhert said, quickly adding, "I'm willing to try, Arize. We don't have much choice, ourselves..."

"You don't have to go, just because Kango says you do..."

Gilhert remained silent. Arize squinted at her husband before a paw flew to her chest, her bracelets jingling hard.

"You want to do it! You actually want to journey up north and..." She trailed off, her lips pursed.

"Arize...my gem...Kango has promised me land in the forest, whatever land I chose." Gilhert took his wife's paw in his own from across the mat, kissing her rings and fingers between words. "We could build a home instead of scrounging for a place to stay or pitching a tent, one where we don't have to abandon it every turn of the moon. Just like how you've wanted for so long, Arize, we can have some real foundations and...grow old and die there instead of on the road..."

"If the forest doesn't kill us before we find a place to call home," Arize admonished with a stiff frown. "We may not believe in monsters but that doesn't mean there isn't an even more terrible fate awaiting us within its clutches!"

The vixen's eyes shifted from her husband to her own pack, leaned neatly against the foot of their cot and partially unwrapped. She swallowed, and very slowly reached into the pockets of her skirts and withdrew pegs of petrified wood, each one with a small carved symbol.

"Gil, I've been peering through my crystals, throwing my marked stones, and I've been looking into scented smoke every spare moment since Sandsline burned."

"Your crystals?" Gilhert exclaimed, his voice hitching indignantly. "But you haven't done that-"

"In years, yes, I know. I've trusted you more than I've trusted my Eyes, and while you've always done your best to keep us well, lately, our lives have followed a very uncertain wind. I want answers you can't give me, Gil."

"Arize, come on now, I've never steered us wrong! You don't need to fall back into the old ways of a frightened slave."

Gilhert's ears flattened as his wife dropped her wooden pieces, his wide eyes staring at the markings the landed faceup.

"No, Gil," Arize growled, her voice very low. "You're desperate enough to burn a town to the ground. If you don't have an answer, then who in this hot and sandy earth does? I used my Eyes, Gil, and when I faced north, I saw only fear. There was no hope, no happiness, not even pain! Just fear, Gil."

"My gem," Gilhert began softly, crawling on his knees to Arize's side. "My one and only...you're scared. I'm scared, too, but we'll have that prairie dog, what's her bucket...Siroc, yeah. She's a survivor, and she's used to danger, just like us. Her and another Ring will be keeping us company, keeping us safe. We'll play it safe, not stray too far from the edge of the woods at first."

Gilhert pointed at his pack, left in the open from being dragged halfway across the floor.

"No amount of exploration is safe, but neither are the roads we know. When's the last time you left your knife tied to your bag instead of on your belt while we traveled? The South isn't the safest place, never mind the Forest! Remember the words of the roads, what we always say: whether the weather, the land, or by another's hand!"

"Exactly, Gil! We stay safe and don't do anything stupid, don't dunk our paws in another's drinking water for a sip!" Arize said insistently, her pitch rising. "Kango's asking too much from one beast! We don't know those Rings, we don't know the Forest; at least we know the South!"

"You sound a lot like Timbones' aunt, I imagine," Gilhert growled, crossing his arms over his gut. "Being stubborn for nothing."

Arize clucked her tongue dismissively. "Olna was a fool for accepting her death as she did, and cruel for abandoning poor Timbones to a life of wondering what he could have done to help her. We know where to move, where to go, Gilhert. You've said it yourself dozens of times, the drought has to end eventually."

Gilhert opened his mouth, the heat from the tent's hearth parching his tongue.

"I...I don't know anymore, Arize. Maybe..."

Arize stared at him. His eyes could not meet hers and the vixen dropped her paw to cup his crestfallen face.

"Oh, my gentle hearted sweetroll...You always do your best, do what you think is right..." Arize soothed him with gentle whispers. "But the forest is so...unknown, Gil. You know just about everything, and I can cover the rest but...the forest, it frightens me. We know nothing about it except the old legends and the nightmares of a few raving mad fools who survived it."

The ringtail innkeeper loudly added several sticks to the fire. A whiff of smoke from the hearth crinkled Gilhert's brow. He clutched at his wife's paw, nuzzling into it and inhaling her perfume.

"Kango has promised me land. He's promised us a holding of our own if I do this for the South," the fox began. "I could help save the entire South, and when Kango builds his city, has a real kingdom, I'll be part of that history, Arize. He'll need me at every corner, and if I can start him off by finding where to set his foundations, he'll reward us with more than land, my love! I'll have power; no more wandering around. We'll have a set home, a real roof over our heads. We'll have status, everyone will know our name-"

"Everyone already does, Gil."

"Yeah, sure, but we'll have power!"Gilhert insisted. "We'll have power and we won't have to move around all the time! We can set our own foundations, just like you've always wanted, and I can do even more for folks...by building a new world for everyone."

"A city won't work, Gil...the clan territories are steeped into every creature of the South no matter who wears a crown. Scale and chains, antlers and freedom... it doesn't matter. The Five Walking Stones will not live together. It was amazing they all followed Kango to begin with."

"We wanted this," Gilhert said, gesturing around the lodge. "We all wanted this; a life free of pain and suffering. The Clans will do as Kango commands them because they still want that, and they want their pups to have it too. If the South lands are dead, then we all have to find a way."

"It'll take generations to make peace. What if that brings new war? It will, inevitably; you know that, Gil. You know that. Even if their great-grand pups get to taste real peace, this...the forest...it can't be the only way!"

Arize's anxieties seeped into his skull like smoke and Gilhert flinched at the idea of his wife's fear being justified. The Clans wouldn't live together, not for long and certainly not outside of an emergency such as how the Links operated.

I could slip out, before she's awake, take off without her... Heck, she'll find me. I could travel to the forest and stake out what the forest has to offer...alone...

"My love," Gilhert croaked, gazing up into Arize's uncertain eyes. "Isn't it worth a try? Even if the forest can provide only for our lifetimes, isn't it worth it, for us to have a home instead of scrounging about for abandoned buildings in the desert or a townie's bed? North is our best bet for seeing the end of our days."

"Not safely," Arize replied. "Not if it kills us to get there, not if it kills us when we get there."

Gilhert imagined sneaking away when his crew was packed and ready, deserting the sleeping city and not looking back. Arize would wake up to find him gone and she'd be mad, but she'd be safe, and there would be no more argument.

"It'll be dangerous, of course... but everyday is dangerous for us, my gem. Every time we take to the road, or have to remind folks that it's because they didn't follow my instructions that they're floundering..."

She'd be safe here. We've friends in the city, folks know our name. A few silver chains to keep her fed and housed, clothed and bathed...She'd be safe off the road. She's right about the forest, we don't know much except what's in the stories and... and if we get there and find it's just as parched as the rest of the land, what then? What'll you do, Gil, when you've gone all that way for nothing...Drag yourself back and tell her you failed again, left her for nothing?

"My love," Gilhert softly hummed, kissing Arize's paw. "In the end, I don't have much of a choice. Either I do it or some ignorant sand-kickin' upstart does and leads Kango and the entire South to their doom. I can make a real big difference, not just town by town, but for the whole kingdom. I can make my mark with this."

He glared at the fire, resenting it's cheerful crackle as the fresh sticks torched and turned black.

Arize sighed, drawing her paw away from Gilhert and pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. She stayed silent for a long time until, with a jangle of her bangles, she wrangled her thoughts.

"The prairie dog, the Ring one that spoke with you and Kango... we ought to meet with her in the morning. Figure out the best local talents to help us out."

"Yeah," Gilhert answered. "We'll do just that, my gem. We will."