Chapter 9: The Rabbit Of Arfsdale

  The journey home was a lot quieter after they dropped the kits off at Westberrow. Lighter too, after getting rid of the prisoner they had no reason to keep dragging that cage around so they left it behind with the rabbits. Much to Reea’s relief. The bags of meat were heavy enough on their own. They didn't need to be lugging around additional weight.

  As the hunting party passed by the area where they had spotted the mega beast, they made sure to keep their eyes open and their ears pricked. The monstrous creature was probably long gone by now, but they weren't going to take any chances. All sorts of wildlife were attracted to the smell of meat. The preserving rub did a decent job of warding off most flying insects. But you couldn't leave the bags in one place for more than a night or else ants would start swarming them.

  Wouf grinned as he leaned forward and perked his ears. “Do you hear that?” He said excitedly.

  Reea was too grumpy and tired to respond, but Mauor obliged him. She listened for a bit, with her brow furrowed. “All I hear is distant howling.” She admitted.

  Wouf bounced around happily with his tongue lolling out. The big canine hardly seemed to be slowed down at all by the heavy packs strapped to his flanks, as he explained. “Exactly! We're almost home! Haha!”

  “Oh yeah.” Mauor sniffed the smell of wolf fur on the wind. And listened to the pitched voices that were far too far away to be heard as anything other than a distant thrum. Then her tail started to wag a little. “Just a few more miles then. We should be at the gate by morning. That'll be nice.”

  A few miles seemed like such a small distance in comparison to the days of travel that had been dedicated to their hunt. And what lay waiting for them was one of the main reasons why wolves became hunters. Even before they made it to the giant stone archway that framed the entrance, they were already being stopped by greeting howls and rambunctious young wolves. Many of whom wanted to see the bloody spoils of their hunt, and hear a romanticized story of how it was earned. The older more experienced wolves were more reserved. They didn't waste the hunters’ precious time. Instead they simply gave them a nod of respect as they passed by, or sang a contagious victory howl.

  Hunters returning from successful missions were a near daily occurrence, so the celebrations didn't tend to go beyond that unless the hunting party brought in an unusually large haul. Collecting several dozen rabbits was impressive. It was certainly worth some bragging rights, in addition to the monetary value. But rabbits were small game. If their little hunting pack had brought in the same number of dead deer? We'll then, they very well might get a parade in their honor.

  As soon as they made it back into Arfsdale, the first thing they did was head to the hunting lodge. Or rather, the larder. The larder was its own dedicated building. One of many which made up the complex of buildings that was the Arfsdale hunting lodge. It was basically a big warehouse designed to dry out and store all of the meat which passed through the city. The building smelled strongly of salt and all manner of other preservatives. They passed their bundles of meat off onto the wolves which worked there. So that they could get to the vital work of curing it properly. The meat had to last long enough to be distributed to those who needed it. And the specialized rub they packed it with would only preserve it for so long.

  Dropping off their precious cargo was both a physical and metaphorical weight off of their backs. It was nice to finally pass the responsibility for the meat off onto someone else. They were almost done. Soon they would be able to all head off to their respective homes and enjoy a well deserved break. But there was one final task that had to be done first.

  Hunt commander Trouw limped proudly into the meeting room. His eyebrows rose a bit when he noticed the empty seat, but he calmly waited until he was standing in his spot in front of the corkboard before asking. “Where is senior hunter Hawl?” His voice lacked its usual impatient snappiness. He probably feared the worst had happened since Hawl wasn't the sort to get himself into trouble unless it was real serious. But Wouf was nonchalant and soothed the older wolf's concerns with a casual shrug. “He told us to bring the meat back without him while he went after two rabbits who escaped.”

  The hunt commander relaxed a bit as he learned that Hawl was still alive. But his stern frown deepened because that meant that he was being uncharacteristically stupid. His snappy tone returned in full force as he asked. “Is that so? He decided to risk traveling alone did he? How long before he returns as well?”

  This time Reea spoke. She sounded annoyed, but she avoided showing her usual snark around the old hunt commander. “We don't know. That's up to him honestly. But I can't imagine it will take him more than a few extra days.”

  The old three legged wolf narrowed his eye. He looked unhappy but he kept his voice neutral for the time being. “I see, I see. Anything else I should know about?”

  Mauor spoke up. “Well, on our way to Westberrow, we did encounter a mega beast. It seemed relatively docile though. I've included all of the details of the encounter in my mission report.”

  Wouf looked at her in surprise. “Wait. You finished your report already?”

  Reea just rolled her eyes at her packmate’s overachieving. But the hunt commander seemed to respect the dedication. The old three legged wolf regarded her, then the others with a slight frown. He wasn't angry, but he wasn't exactly happy with them either. At last he came to whatever decision he was making, and with a grunt he turned back to Mauor. “I'll read it when your hunt is completed.”

  All three hunters froze with tense uncertainty, as that statement was followed by an abrasively awkward silence. But then there was a polite coughing as Reea, ever the one most willing to annoy and bother folk, tentatively asked. “But the… Mission is already complete, isn't it? All we have left to do is collect our payment after this meeting.”

  Hunt commander Trouw gave her an authoritative glare as he barked. “Your hunt isn't done until I say it's done! So long as hunt commander Hawl is still in the field, you three are still on duty.”

  Wouf gasped, Mauor sighed, and Reea choked a little before losing her temper a bit. “You can't be serious! What are we even supposed to do then? Hawl will be back in just a few days. That's not enough time to assign us to another hunt. So are you saying we will just have to wait around at the lodge? Just to punish us for his actions?”

  Trouw did not like being talked back to. So he barked at her with that same aggressive militaristic shouting as before. “He is your hunt commander! His decisions are your pack's decisions! If you don't like that, then you should have volunteered for the position when the hunt began or refused the job!”

  Reea flinched, opened her mouth to speak, and then quickly caught herself. She shut her snout and fell silent as she grit her sharp teeth together. Being very careful not to show them as she did her best to portray deference to her superior officer.

  The Hunt commander blew a sharp rush of air out his nose. Satisfied with his correction as he continued. “Rest assured, you will not be sitting on your tails all day! You will be assigned to various jobs for the city while you wait. I believe Chuse is making a speech later today. You can start by attending his rally as a guard detail. Keep the crowd under control.”

  Reea groaned, but Wouf perked up as he remembered something. He lifted his snout up to politely signal his desire to speak.

  Trouw's militaristic cadence dropped back to his more typical gruff drawl as he called on him. “Yes, senior hunter Wouf?”

  The big shaggy black and brown wolf ducked his head apologetically before asking. “Sir. Who won the election? Is this Chuse's senatorial acceptance speech you are talking about?” He looked mortified at the thought.

  The hunt commander snorted with amusement. His lips curled up a bit before he answered. “Nah. If that was the case I would assign some wolves who were actually good at managing crowds. No, he is giving his concession speech. Aherer won.”

  Wouf's tail instantly started wagging at a frightful pace, and he grinned with relief and excitement. “Oh thank the ancestors! You had me worried there for a second.”

  The old wolf grumbled something about youth under his breath before snorting. “Well, it's obvious who you were hoping for. Good for you. Just try not to gloat too much in front of the Coalitionists. Emotions are always sore after a political defeat, and I would like to avoid stirring up any civil unrest if possible. Understood?”

  Wouf was almost hopping up and down, but resisted the urge to do a spin as he happy-sneezed. “Oh I don't think you have to worry about that. This is Chuse we are talking about. Anyone willing to throw in with that d-” He hesitated and shot a sidelong glance at Reea before rolling right back to his point. “With that wolf, is already far too committed to his pacifist ideology to ever do anything.”

  Trouw raised an eyebrow and shook his head. He sounded so tired and old as he spoke. “You’d be surprised what animals are capable of.”

  Mauor took a step forward. “The hunt commander is right. We should be open to any possibility. Besides, Chuse isn't nearly as pacifistic as the papers make him out to be. He’s fine with violence, he just has an overly cautious approach to foreign policy.”

  Wouf looked like he was only just now realizing that Mauor had opinions on politics. Noticing this, Reea let out a long put upon sigh. The lack of policy talk was one of the only good things to come from Hawl skipping off with that ditzy goat. But now, instead of getting a well deserved break, she was going to be stuck listening to Wouf grill Mauor for her thoughts on every issue he could think of. Until he sniffed out a disagreement he could drag out into a pointless argument.

  Reea glared at the hunt commander from behind his back as he relayed the details of their job to Wouf. She hated that old sack of bones. He was just the sort of wolf to pull something like this. He was trying to punish Hawl by first punishing his pack, and hoping that they pass the social consequences onto him. It was a very army way of doing things, that Reea didn't much care for. That being said, she was willing to play along. Reea made a silent promise to herself that when she did finally get Hawl to sleep with her. She was going to bite his tail as payback for all the trouble he put her through.

  The streets of Arfsdale were packed with bodies, and the air was just as loud as ever despite the somber mood of most of the wolves attending the event. Wouf looked positively giddy in comparison to the sour faces around him as he happily chatted with Mauor about his thoughts on the value of traditional wolven family structures.

  They were in the center of the city. In a grand plaza that was speckled with elaborate fountains, historical monuments, and unlit street lights. The layout of the plaza was designed so that anyone could use the flat space to run around or relax in surprisingly cozy resting spots with friends. It was a very large space that was flexible in how it could be used. Today they were making use of its wide open sight lines and raised platforms to allow one wolf to address his supporters as a group. Though the wolf of the hour was nowhere to be seen yet.

  There were a few official bodyguards mulling about one of the raised platforms, getting the small stage ready for the politician. The stage was actually the base of a monument, a larger than life bronze statue that was given far more room than it needed. Precisely so that wolves could use it for spectacles like this.

  The statue depicted a dynamically posed she-wolf standing on a raised stone. It was clear that she had recently been pregnant from her enlarged breasts, and the sculptor had somehow managed to imply blood dripping from her jaws despite the lack of texture or color. She wore an immortal expression of horror mixed with stoic determination. She was a historical figure who played a key role in founding the predecessor to the modern wolven empire. Reea had learned about her in school, though she could hardly remember what her name was anymore. Let alone what she did to get such an overly romanticized statue of her erected in the then capital city of the most powerful nation on the planet.

  “Hey, it's starting!” Wouf shouted above the din of voices as he pointed with his nose. “We should get into position.”

  Reea noticed the shift in the crowd. But she didn't see Chuse’s distinctive yellow fur. Wouf couldn't have known his scent well enough to pick him out among this many strangers, so how did he know he had arrived? She wasn't sure until her eyes drifted up a bit, and she noticed the light. Reea had thought that creeping glow was the sunrise at first. But that wasn't quite right. The light was so soft, and it had an odd quality to it. It was transparent, yet colorful. As if the iridescent rainbow shine of a soap bubble was being projected onto every surface that was even slightly reflective. Not only that, but everything the light touched just seemed… brighter. As if the colors were more vibrant and intense. It was so mesmerizing that Reea almost didn't notice that the source of that light had jumped up onto the stage.

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  Chuse was an objectively handsome wolf. His short glossy fur was a very unusual yellow color that matched perfectly with his cheerful smile; His nose was more pink than it was brown; His eyes were a striking royal blue; And he had a shorter snout than average. His ears were also a bit on the long side for a wolf, and his right ear was oddly floppy. Apparently he had been born with that deformity, and that coupled with his rare blonde fur made him look very unique indeed.

  “Reea?” Wouf repeated when she didn't answer. “We need to go. Mauor is already up by the front.”

  The red she-wolf snapped out of her trance for just a moment. “What? Oh, yeah. You go on without me. I'll watch from here.” Chuse didn't have a mate did he? It was certainly a long shot, but Reea was half considering what it would take to get a one night stand out of a public figure like him when Wouf interrupted her again.

  “What? Why?” The big shaggy wolf tilted his head. “We need to be near the stage so we can herd the crowd.”

  Reea rolled her eyes. She wanted to ogle the pretty politics boy, who was literally standing in his own personal halo of heavenly light, and fantasize about all the things she wanted to do to him. But apparently Wouf was unintentionally filling in for Hawl's role as the team buzzkill while he was away. “Oh come on now. We both know that the commander only sent us out here to waste our time.” She pointed her nose at the two stoic wolves who were flanking the politician. “I mean look, he's already got his own private security. You don't need me for this.”

  Wouf hesitated. Looking a bit conflicted before asking. “So you're just going to sit on your tail? What if there is an incident?”

  Reea made a dismissive snorting sound. “Then I'll come help. But for now I want to watch the show rather than be stuck looking at the public for the whole speech.”

  The big black wolf reeled back with a look of confusion, disgust, and a bit of betrayal as he asked in an incredulous tone. “You actually want to watch that d- dolt blather on about his failures?”

  Reea knew Wouf well enough to know that he would absolutely drop everything just to argue his personal views at her if she showed any interest in his political enemy. It didn't matter how much she explained her lack of interest in the actual politics. He would still hound her about it. Which is why she had to spin it in such a way so that he could accept it uncritically. After a second of thought, the she-wolf shrugged. “You said his Telling was fake right? I wanted to watch him so that I could see for myself if something strange was going on with that light of his.”

  Wouf’s hurt expression brightened into relieved enthusiasm. As she knew it would. “Really! Well, in that case I guess you're right. Me and Mauor should be able to handle it.” He turned and took a few bouncy steps towards the stage before calling over his shoulder. “Keep an eye on the body guards! I think the black one might be the one who has it.”

  “Sure thing!” Reea called out before completely abandoning his advice and focusing all her attention on Chuse's body. Or, at least what she could see of it. The guy was wearing a full formal suit, including pants! Seriously, who wore pants? No wonder this guy lost the election. Then again… Reea did kinda enjoy the mystery of wondering what was under that fabric.

  Unaware of Reea’s inner thoughts, but no doubt familiar with the attention he got from the ladies. Chuse smiled at the crowd and thanked them for showing up. His arrival had prompted a few cheers from some of the more die hard Coalitionists, but for the most part his reception was the coldest and quietest it had been in a while. If that bothered him. Then he didn't show it. Chuse waited a breath before speaking into the silence. “It is always disappointing… whenever life doesn't work out the way you hoped. I know I'm feeling a bit disappointed right now myself. So what does one do? When you pour everything you have into a fight. Only to be met with frustration and defeat?”

  The politician smiled with an infectious grin. “The answer is simple, but difficult. You take a step back, you find out what you did wrong, and then you try again. I know it's an easy thing to say. But I do mean it.” He closed his eyes for a bit and sighed as he recalled the events of the election. “We've had our ups, and we've had our downs. I still believe with every hair on my body that my policies would have better serviced the needs of our great city. But to her credit, Aherer did a better job of selling her vision to the animals of Arfsdale.”

  The crowd groaned with discontent, and some wolves even booed or heckled Chuse when he praised his opponent's campaign. In response, the golden furred wolf just exhaled an amused puff of air out his nose. He had expected that reaction, and used it to frame his next set of pre-scripted thoughts. “Alright, to be fair, part of the reason why her message was so successful was because of the blatant lies and personal attacks that were used to malign the reputation of her competitors.”

  Instantly, the crowd was back on his side again. They were all well aware of the muck slinging that was commonplace in almost any democratic system. So they could easily guess what Chuse was about to complain about next. He rolled his eyes and modulated his tone with the dry frustration of someone thanklessly addressing a long list of ridiculous and unreasonable requests. “Packitarian lobbying groups have invested truly wasteful sums of money, bribing unscrupulous yellow papers to print false claims about me.” Chuse almost smirked. “They say I'm inexperienced. As if I haven't been actively involved in politics since I was invited to serve as a party strategist when I was only four seasons old; They insult my intelligence. As if I did not graduate with full marks from Caarven’s, one of the most prestigious universities in the world; They call me a traitor to the idiom. As if I could have ever found my Telling while rejecting the truth.” He glanced over his shoulder, then back at the crowd with a cheeky smile. “Seriously, have they just not noticed my aura? I know my fur is glossy, but it's not that glossy.”

  A laugh rippled from the crowd as the joke landed, and Chuse chuckled with them. “You know, I assumed that when the Daily Gnaw called me ‘the Rabbit of Arfsdale’ they meant it as a satirical jab aimed at my deformity. But I almost wonder if some of these animals are so out of touch with reality that they genuinely think I'm another species.” He laughed it off, but made a show of grinning just a little bit too wide. After baring his teeth for just a bit longer than was comfortable. Chuse put his teeth away and fell into a much more casual speech pattern. “Did you know that studies have shown that most animals have a bias against creatures with visible scarring or other physical deformities? These findings are consistent across all species except for one. For wolves, the reverse is true. We will actually trust our leaders more if we can see that they have survived hardship.” The golden furred wolf beamed with pride and sarcastic humor. “So ironically, the same animals accusing me of not knowing what it means to be a wolf, are failing to understand their own species well enough to actually attack me in a way that matters.”

  Reea tilted her head and knit her brows together as she noticed what she thought was a small plot hole in the story Chuse was trying to tell. He said that his political opponents weren't attacking him in a way that mattered, but that idea seemed to directly contradict the claim that he lost the election due to being unfairly misrepresented. He might not be lying necessarily, there were ways for both claims to be true at once after all. But even she knew that the truth didn't matter in politics. And she felt it weakened the narrative he was attempting to build for his base. Not that Reea cared. She was only here because of her boss.

  Chuse continued with a bitter chuckle. “The rabbit of Arfsdale.” He mused slowly, pondering the nickname as if he were tasting an exotic food for the first time. “You know what? I find it revealing that anyone would think that is an insult. First of all, rabbits are very noble creatures. And they are some of our strongest allies. Lest we forget, it was their ideas of collective governance that inspired the foundations that our very democracy is built upon. I think the publishers of the Daily Gnaw should go read a history book sometime. Perhaps then they'll see just how many of the founding fathers and mothers of our great empire had floppy ears.”

  The crowd was fairly subdued. Few wolves actually cared about the honor of rabbits or the role that they played in history. They just wanted Chuse to say something biting and mean to humiliate their political opponents and make them feel better about their loss. Reea could respect that, she appreciated the sport of it. Honestly, she probably could even enjoy politics if the politicians weren't so passive aggressive and cowardly about dunking on each other.

  Chuse noticed the crowds lackluster response to his praise of their ally species, and smoothly transitioned it to the next part of his speech. “If my ear makes me a rabbit, then I'd count it as the highest honor to be called the Rabbit of Arfsdale.” He made a sudden halting motion as he stopped to scan the crowd with a conspiratorial smile. “Did you catch that? The Rabbit of Arfsdale. Do you notice how they don't just call me ‘The Rabbit’? No one would know who they were talking about if they did that.” The yellow wolf looked positively tickled and was playing up his delight for the crowd. He laughed to himself for all to hear. “It's funny. Even a Packitarian propaganda outlet dedicated to slandering me can't help themselves but to associate me with Arfsdale. Even on the tongue of my enemies, my name is defined by my connection to the city. I think that tells you something about the kind of wolf I am.”

  That brought the energy back to the audience. Reea thought it was a little self aggrandizing, but she also kinda liked that about him. It was like Chuse had the cocky bravado of a street fighter, but filtered through the respectability mandate of politics.

  Chuse finished chuckling and seemed to sober up. His expression grew mournful, though his aura shined brighter still as he softly said. “We tried our best out there. We fought hard and did what we could. It's okay to grieve for a little while. Take a day off if you can, and spend some time licking your wounds if you have to.”

  Reea knew he was talking metaphorically. But that reminded her of the thick bloody scabs on her legs. She had forgotten to lick them for the past two days. Which was pretty foolish of her. Thankfully they didn't smell infected, but still… She’d have to clean them off properly when she got home.

  “But don't lose hope.” Chuse cautioned. ”Don't think that the fight is over just because we've lost this election. Anything worth doing is difficult after all. We don't get to sit on our tails and wash our paws of political activism, just because we failed this one time. On the contrary. We need to fight even harder than ever over the next four seasons. If we want to preserve the dignity of our empire. Then we will need to do everything in our power to let our voices be heard! Because that's the real power of our democracy! Not me. Not Aherer. Not the senators, or any of the two bit politicians that control our nation. Not even the emperor elect themself! No. The real power of our democracy… is you! The animals who live within our empire, as well as the idiom we all share.”

  And of course that got the loud cheering he was looking for. Crowds just loved vague and nonspecific praise. Although, that last comment felt just a bit awkward. Almost all eligible voters were wolves, but the empire did have small demographics of rabbits and other animals with legal citizenship. So Chuse talking about the idiom as if everyone in the empire had the same one was probably not going to win him votes from those minority groups. Then again… Judging by the crowd's reaction, the energy gained from appealing to the main population was probably worth it.

  “I love this city so much.” Chuse beamed with pride and oddly over saturated hues of light as he waited for the chanting to simmer down. “Let's return to the fact that over sixty percent of Arfsdale’s senators have been visibly disabled or injured in some way. That statistic really stuck with me. Because it highlights something that I feel is incredibly important. Everyone knows that we as wolves value strength, power, and success very highly. But more than that, we value experience. The weight of mistakes made and lessons learned. That's why we prefer it when we can see proof of harsh failure written explicitly on the flesh of our leaders' bodies. It tells us that they have seen the jaws of death and survived its bite.”

  Chuse paced his stage as if lost in thought. As if he was on the verge of some grand discovery. “What truly matters isn't raw physical strength, it's strength of character, and the discipline to pull through tough times. We wolves know that true greatness isn't a simple measurement of success, but is instead a cautiously constructed monument that is built upon bitter failure. That's what it means to be a wolf. That's what it means to live by our idiom. That which doesn't kill us makes us stronger. And I am not dead yet! As long as I draw breath, I will give my everything to fight for my ideals, my city, and my empire. And in one year's time, I am going to run for senator again. And we are going to win!”

  An uproar of cheers and possibly-unearned howls of victory rang out through the densely packed plaza. The noise hurt Reea’s ears, and reminded her that she had spent far too long in the quiet of the countryside. It would take her some time to readjust to the noise of the city.

  Chuse continued his speech. Riding the momentum he had built for himself and attempting to inspire energy in his base. But as he was listing all the ways that a politically active Coalitionist could assist their party under a Packitarian term, Reea noticed a black furred wolf in a hunters uniform jump up onto the edge of the stage. “Wouf!?” She whispered to herself in astonishment. What was Wouf doing!? Had he finally snapped after being forced to listen to Chuse talk for so long? That wolf had such strong opinions and so little self control. He was going to get them all in trouble! Wait… no… Reea blinked as she caught sight of a familiar black wolf in a yellow green vest. Sitting just outside the stage area where he was supposed to be. But if Wouf wasn't the wolf that jumped on stage, then who was it? They wore a hunters uniform and a deep frown. A second wolf jumped on stage with them, and two more waited patiently in the crowd.

  Another team of hunters? “Oh snakes above.” Reea swore with a cringing wince of awkwardness. How many hunters was the hunt commander going to assign to this mission? Was he planning on using this speech as a punishment for every minor infraction done by anyone under his command? That evil tripod. Reea was fantasizing of a world where she could fight against that kind of institutional power and get away with it. But she couldn't finish planning her revenge because something else was going on.

  The crowd had lost its enthusiasm as its cheers quickly turned to murmurs of curiosity and concern. The hunters on stage pressed ahead and approached the golden furred politician as he blinked at them a few times. “I'm sorry. Can I help you with something?” He was still smiling, but there was an uncertainty in his voice. He did not like sharing the stage with others, and clearly just wanted to be left alone. But no one could possibly be prepared for what was about to happen.

  “Chuse of Arfsdale?” The stern, black furred wolf asked. He barely waited for him to respond with a concerned “Yes?” before he spoke again with a rigidly practical but authoritative drawl. “You are under arrest for the attempted assassination of Senator Aherer. Please allow yourself to be muzzled and escorted to the hunters lodge for questioning.”

  A pit opened up in Reea’s stomach as suddenly the mood in the air changed like lightning. The crowd started howling with outrage and confusion. Animals started moving around in frantic agitation. A few short words had introduced an avalanche of confusion and chaos. And suddenly, the simple time wasting task of controlling the crowd became a lot more important.

  Snakes up above… Why couldn't anything ever just be easy?