Chapter Twelve

"For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and love, and of a sound mind."

2 Timothy 1:7

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Apollo was sprawled in a large wooden chair across the hallway from the door to the strange lady fox's bedroom. His mood was a strange one; for once he was too curious and involved with something to bother with being depressed.

The suspense was killing him. Who was their strange guest? Why had she, as he was told, come wearing the sword of a knight?

Why had she fainted when asked her name? And most of all... what was with the blue eyes?

Those eyes... Nothing had ever intrigued Apollo so much in his life. Not even the study of becoming a knight had held such a fascination. Closing his eyes, Apollo tried to call the picture of her to memory.

Her fur was flaming orange, a bit mangy-looking and matted, to be sure, but it was gloriously orange. Her form was the epitomy of vulpine perfection, not that Apollo was necessarily attracted to that kind of beauty, but still, for a fox, for any canine, she was quite... well, there wasn't really a word for it. And her eyes, oh, deep troubled pools of sorrow! Bluer than the sky, than anything imaginable! Apollo felt that he could have lost himself in those eyes.

It was silly, he knew, to be so fascinated with any creature (let alone a mangy vixen) that he'd waste time with waiting out here like this, but something in the way she'd looked at him made him unimaginably curious about her. So he waited...

Suddenly, a noise farther down the hall came to the hare's attention. A few moments longer, and it resolved itself into three voices. Another moment and the last three creatures Apollo could have wanted to see at the moment strolled around the corner.

"Hello, Polly! Whassup?" Chirped Tikkcik mischeviously.

"Nothing." Replied the hare. He could be just as cool as they.

"Heh, some nothin'! You're waitin' for that girl fox to come out." Said the squirrel with a wink.

Reshat placed a paw on the rodent's head, pinning him to the floor. "Apollo, you have been up here for four and a half hours. Supper is almost over. Can you please come down now?" He asked softly.

"Can't you guys see I'm busy? I want to the first one to talk to her when she comes out. I'm curious out of my mind!" Said Apollo.

Evvey rolled his eyes. "'Polloh, be reasonabohl, myte."

"I'm staying up here."

"Woht, yeh jus' gonnah stahve yehself?"

"Well..."

"Look Apollo," cut in Reshat, "we'll stay up here for you and let you know if she comes out, okay?"

Tikkcik didn't seem to agree with that. "What? We're gonna sit up here on our butts and be bored all evening just for that little-"

Reshat silenced him again.

Apollo thought about it. His stomach was telling him it was dinner time. "Well... All right." He stood and walked down the hall.

"But make sure you tell me right away if she comes out, right?"

"Right."

"Roight"

"Oh, all right."

When Apollo was gone, Tikkcik took it upon himself to bop his friends on each of their respective noses.

Evvey made himself comfortable in the chair. "Ah, 's noht so bahd, Tikkah." Said the wallaby.

"'Polloh's a fahst eatah."

Tikkcik shook his head and leaned against the wall. "Still. I don't see the point in doing favors for that selfish ingrate of a depressive hare."

"Apollo needs friends." Said Reshat. "We are his friends, and we need to show him that."

"Huh. I don't see what the big deal is."

"About what?"

"About this visitor lady fox. Who the heck is she, anyway? Why's she gettin' such bigshot treatment?"

"Didn't Yah heah?" Said Evvey, "Whan sh' cyme she wos carryin' a big oh' knoight's swoahd."

"So?"

"Well, apparently the sword belonged to a friend of some of the older creatures around here. Another fox named Bratis, I think." Said Reshat.

"So?"

Evvey sighed. "Ah guess woh'll jus' have teh woite an' see."

* * * *

Troubled dreams haunted Erin as she slept for a second time in her feather bed. Everything was coming back with a rush, Bratis' death, her mission, her horrible journey, everything.

Images and words swirled around in her head, confusing and terrifying. Erin was vaguely, in that way that we know we're asleep while we're dreaming and unreal dream, glad that she was alseep through all this. Her mind was processing it without her having to think it out.

Really, though, it was more like an unconscious fit than actual sleep. It had been triggered by that haunting question, "Who are you?" and the realization that she didn't know who she was or what she was doing. She had panicked, then, fortunately, fainted.

But now, she was waking up, and somewhere in that state between waking and dreaming, it all came back..

"Erin, don't give up. The lives of many creatures depend on you now. You are the child of Seumas and Deirdre Ruadh! You are the hope and legacy of everything we revolutionaries stood for. You must go to the city, must warn the knights... and tell Apollo.."

With a soft "yip", she awoke, at first in fear and pain at the memories, then in a feeling of intense joy.

She remembered!

Her name was Erin Ruadh! She had a mission! It all made sense now!

Erin was suddenly aware of many things she hadn't noticed before, like the fact that the cuts on her paws had been tended to at some point since she collapsed on the road outside. (She guessed it had been before the first time she awoke, because, thinking back, they hadn't been hurting her then.) Also, most of the dirt and caked mud had been washed from her fur, though a number of burrs and a wide array of tangles and matted spots remained, awaiting her attention.

For the first time in a very long while, The vulpine instinct of keeping oneself clean kicked in, and, going into the bathroom so as not to leave fur all over the carpet, she began the task of grooming out her coat.

In the end, it didn't take as long as she'd expected, mainly because the tangled patches had a tendancy to just fall out. She had discovered that the back of the bathroom door was comprised of one full-lenght mirror, and, when she was finished, she regarded herself rather ruefully in the glass.

Well, she was certainly not what she had once been. Last time she had looked at her reflection, she'd been a bright, optimistic young fox without any real cares in the world. Her coat had been sleek and glossy, her eyes bright and curious, her smile that of blissful childhood happiness. But all of that was gone.

Now she was a weary-looking, bone-thin waif of a thing, with her coat missing large patches of fur, her nose and eyes crusted at the corners, her countenance like that of a hunted, haunted creature who's seen more of the world than she wants and is ready to leave it behind.

Erin shook her head and sighed. She had to remind herself that she had a mission. An important purpose.

A little more level headed than she had been before, she went out to where her clothes had been laid.

Well, so much for the clothes, somehow, judging by the fact that she was in such a nice room, she didn't think that it would be quite polite to come out in the shredded remains of her garments. It was hardly better than wearing nothing at all.

The cloak, however, was in much better shape. A little frayed on the edges, but the mud stains had come out mostly. It was the best she could do. She wrapped it around herself, savoring the soft, warm blackness, then, taking a deep breath, opened the door.


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