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Made in jp
[MOD]
Anti-piracy Officer






Somewhere in southern England.

The MPY Kuudere Detective Agency: The Case of the White Wolf, Pt.1



Skyen the Mod, the foremost Wolf Girl in the server, the avatar of Holo the Wise-wolf, had a serious problem.

When members have problems they go to The Deep. They go to talk to people. They go to find help. If the problem is the wrong kind of bad, they go to the MPY Kuudere Detective Agency.

When Skyen walked into the office Yancy knew from her face that the day he had anticipated and feared was here. The day the Goddess would summon him to her service.

Yancy owed Holo a debt. He had her bite-mark on his ear. A spark of her magic glowed there. A spark of her magic ran in his blood. He could not refuse her summons.

Yancy stood in respect. Moon stood in surprise. Skyen had visited them a few times before, once in disguise. Yancy had never behaved like this on those previous occasions.

“Skyen. Please take a seat. Have a cup of coffee.”

They all sat down.

“Yancy, I am here because Holo requires your service.”

“Command me.”

“Yancy, when we quested for the Moon, you were nearly attacked by a pack of wolves.”

“I saved myself because I was carrying the clothes of Skyen/Holo, which held your body scent.”

“That wolves of that pack are the guardians of the edge of the server. The pack has a leader, and the leader answers to Holo.

"I speak to Holo and the server is guarded. This is how it is done. This is how the server is kept safe.”

“Yes.”

“But the leader no longer answers Holo’s call. The pack runs wild. There are rumours in the forest.

"Holo went there. Holo ran in the forest. She discovered a terrible thing.”

“This is going to be good.”

“The pack leader has been possessed by an evil spirit. He has become the White Wolf, a daemon-ridden creature of magic and death.”

“And you need my help to put him away.”

“The White Wolf must be destroyed, or the spirit will spread to the rest of the wolf pack. Then the server will have no protection at its borders.”

Skyen put a brown paper bag on the desk. Yancy opened it and poured out a handful of cartridges, 10 of them. 0.45-inch ACP rounds, made to fit his Colt automatic, the one he had never fired because he was afraid of its totemic power.

The colour of the bullets was odd. He looked closely. The jackets were silver, actual bullion, not just polished steel. There was a sigil inscribed on them. A spell? It made sense, for shooting a daemon.

Yancy looked Skyen square in the eye.

“This is alright for a bit of target practice. I’ll need 200 rounds to do the job for sure.”

“200 rounds! Your pistol only takes seven in the magazine.”

“I’m not going to use my pistol. I’m going to need serious heat for this job.”

“Yancy…”

“Moon?”

“I’m coming with you.”

“This isn’t your duty, Moon. You’re not bound to Holo.”

“Yancy, I’m bound to you, and you’re bound to me. We’re partners.”

Moon and Yancy exchanged a meaningful look.

Yancy secretly wished they could be more than partners. But they were professionals. He kept away from those kind of tangles.

“Skyen, we’ll need 24 magic shotgun shells too. 12-gauge magnum 00 buckshot. High velocity load.”

Skyen knew this would be expensive, but she understood the ties of comradeship which bound Yancy and Moon.

“Very well. It will be better with three of us. Let me explain my plan.”

The idea was to get up into the high, wild forest the day before the full moon and scout an ambush location. When darkness fell, the moon’s magic would bring forth the daemon.

Skyen would assume the avatar of Holo, and hunt in the forest. She would draw the White Wolf into the ambush, and escape up a tree. Yancy and Moon would lay down a cross-fire on the monster.

“If you hit the creature enough times, the bullets will kill its body. The silver and the spells will destroy its evil spirit. Then we must burn the carcass.”

“What if one of us gets bit?”

“Don’t get bitten. The daemon might transfer into you.”

It was a sound plan in outline. Except for the not getting bit part. Yancy had his doubts about that.

The worst thing would be if the daemon wolf caught Holo. A daemon-ridden Holo did not bear thinking about.

He tried to think how else it could go wrong.

“What are the other wolves gonna be doing while all this is going on?”

“I’ll pour bear’s urine all around the ambush site, and on your hides. They fear to approach that scent.”

“So we’re going to end up stinking of rancid bear piss. Great.”

“It’s a chance to shop new trench coats, Moon.”

They looked up the next full moon. Five days. Plenty of time to prepare.

Skyen went to order more silver bullets and shotgun shells. The detectives made a list of useful equipment and started to collect it.

Blankets, ground sheets, first aid kit, a bottle of gin, a bottle of whiskey, steel thermos flasks of hot coffee, a bag of bagels with lox and cream cheese, pastrami on rye bread sandwiches, some camping gear like cups and a paraffin stove.

Three days later they were ready, except for the new magic ammo. Then a delivery boi brought a carton to the office. It was heavy. It rattled when Yancy shook it.

“Okay, Moon, you need to check your shotgun.”

Moon brought out her 12-gauge slide-action with five round magazine, She started to clean it.

Yancy went to a corner of the office where there was a loose floorboard. He pulled it up. Underneath was a small steel case, locked. Yancy took it out, unlocked it and got out another key.

He went to a steel cupboard which had been locked for a long time. Inside was The Gun. His pistol was a kid’s toy in comparison.

The Gun was a Thompson sub-machine-gun, with two fat drum magazines, empty at the moment to avoid stressing the clockwork which fed the cartridges. It was dull blue steel. It had a wooden stock, a pistol style front grip, and a leather sling.

Also in the locker were three metal boxes. These contained the casings, explosive fillings, and fuse assemblies to build six pineapple hand grenades. There were two cardboard boxes of standard 0.45-inch ACP cartridges. 200 rounds in total.

“Won’t need all that stuff on this job.”

Yancy picked up the Tommy-gun hesitantly. Its totemic power flowed into him, strengthening his aspect. He became harder boiled.

Moon looked at him with a sideways look. There was something dangerous in his eyes.

He brought everything to his desk. He got the cleaning kit. He disassembled, cleaned, and reassembled the Tommy-gun, checking the action carefully. Then he checked the drum magazines.

He opened the boxes of special cartridges Skyen had sent. 200 silver bullets with a high velocity load.

A serious amount of precious metal. A serious amount of special death.

He carefully loaded each magazine, winding up the clockwork click by click as he put the shells in one by one. He checked and polished every single bullet, to see it had its magic sigil engraved in the bright silver.

The drum would take 100 rounds, but Yancy put in only 88, partly for luck, also to avoid over-stressing the clockwork.The filled mags rattled, so he tied rags around each of them to muffle the sound a bit.

“Probably don’t need two mags,” he thought, “But nothing succeeds like excess.”

When the killer had to kill someone, or something, he liked to over-kill it to to be sure. That was part of how he had got his name. The name no-one in the server knew about.

He loaded two magazines for the Colt as well. There were 10 cartridges left over, plus the first 10 Skyen had brought on the day she came to require his service.

Yancy thought if he needed the spare shells he would already be dead before he could load them. He put the mostly empty box in his desk drawer and locked it.

“Never know when some silver bullets may come in handy.” he thought.

“Goddess, Yancy, you sure look mean.”

“This Tommy-gun, the power in it. It’s almost made me back into… him.”

“You never told me his name.”

“Don’t want to.”

“Is there a lot of cross-over?”

“Yeah. That killer aspect was very hard-boiled. But he was British, so it’ll be OK. How’s your rod?”

Moon had reassembled her shotgun. She racked the slide, and dry-fired it.

“Ready to load.”

She took the box of shotgun shells and fed 5 into the magazine. The rest of the box she wrapped in plastic and put into her pack.

“Yancy, we’re just trusting Skyen that these shells are silver and magic.”

“You can trust her. She’ll be out there with us. We’ll all die together if something goes bad.”

Moon gulped quietly and wondered if she had made a wise decision to go with Yancy. But she was kuudere, so she didn’t show any doubt.


TO BE CONTINUED...

The story of how Skyen and Yancy quested for the Moon is in

https://www.dakkadakka.com/dakkaforum/posts/list/778071.page


© 2019 Yancy08620163 | 8J3U37
aka Starship Captain 88

This message was edited 2 times. Last update was at 2019/08/18 06:47:33


I'm writing a load of fiction. My latest story starts here... This is the index of all the stories...

We're not very big on official rules. Rules lead to people looking for loopholes. What's here is about it. 
   
Made in jp
[MOD]
Anti-piracy Officer






Somewhere in southern England.

The MPY Kuudere Detective Agency: The Case of the White Wolf, Pt.2


Savage violence in the wild, high forest


The next morning they all three met at the agency office and set out together.

As usual for members seeking wild lands they headed east, towards unformed channels which can modify themselves to fit the needs and expectations of the day.

They soon left the civilised channels behind. The land became wild and began to slope up. Skyen and Yancy remembered it from when they had quested for the Moon.

But this time, Skyen did not scamper after fascinating scents. She was intent on one specific trace, the White Wolf.

It was early afternoon by the time they reached the forest. They moved under the shade of the trees and searched for a good ambush position. It took several hours until they found the right place.

A clearing in the trees, with a mountain stream running through it. One solitary rowan tree grew there. They took this as a good omen, knowing that rowan trees give protection against evil and black magic.

Skyen practised running up and climbing into the rowan, while Moon and Yancy looked around for the positions they should take.

Moon clambered on top of an outcropping of granite. It gave her a view over the whole area. It was an excellent position to shoot from.

Yancy found some piles of dried wood, small branches carried along by the stream in spate, and deposited on the banks. He dragged them into a single large pile, adding other debris he found under nearby trees, and made it into a hide.

They all walked over the terrain. They looked at the lines of sight and worked out the best crossfire. It was near the Rowan tree.

They marked the spot with a rock and paced off the ranges to their firing positions.

“Skyen, you must let the White Wolf chase you uphill, for us to get the best shot at it.”

“I will be Holo. She will have no trouble outrunning the monster. For now, let’s have a meal before I spray the bear urine around.”

By the time they had finished eating dusk was well advanced. The light of the full moon started to come over the horizon, though it was still dimmed by the trees.

Skyen walked around the dell, dripping careful splashes from her bottle of bear’s urine. She put more on Moon’s rock, and on Yancy’s woodpile.

Finally she put some on their trench coats. At first it stank, but the smell faded as it dried, until the humans could not make it out.

They made final preparations. Moon put spare shells into her pockets. Yancy adjusted the sling of his Tommy-gun so he could brace it well against his shoulder. The recoil would be fierce.

He cocked the big gun, and his pistol, and put them both on safety. Moon racked a shell into the chamber and topped up the magazine, for six shots until empty.

They waited.

As the darkness grew, their eyes adapted. The Moon rose higher in the sky, shedding more silvery light. There was a light wind sighing in the trees, and the beck sang as it ran down its stony channel.

It would have been a magical romantic scene, if it wasn’t for the deadly nature of their mission.

Finally Skyen decided it was time. She stood in the full moonlight, and summoned the avatar of Holo.

Skyen's wolf ears pricked up. Her hair and tail grew more luxurious and gained a red-brown colour. Then she shed her clothes and stood sky clad, her skin glowing in the moonlight, and her eyes too.

Yancy had seen the naked Holo before. The first time she had stripped in front of him he had turned his eyes away. Holo had commanded him to look upon her, to know her true nature. He did not hesitate to look now.

Holo’s body was that of a beautiful young woman with pale skin, a bushy wolf’s tail, long full hair, and wolf ears. She was sleek and full of life. She had no shame of her nudity; it was pure and righteous for a Wolf-Goddess in the middle of nature.

Holo smiled at Yancy and he saw her fangs gleam. He saw her eyes shine, and he knew he would die if necessary to protect her.

The magic was too strong, out here near the edge of the world, with the full moon above.

Detective Moon was not so affected. She coughed, and Holo gave her a sideways look.

“I go to hunt, Yancy. Be ready when I return.”

“Hunt well, my Lady.”

Holo threw back her head and howled at the rising moon. Then she leapt and bounded from the clearing faster than the fastest wolf.

“Okay Moon, let’s get into position. We may not have long to wait.”

Moon scrambled up on her rock. Yancy hid in his woodpile.

The moon ascended in the purple sky, bringing even more light to the clearing. The rowan cast a shadow.

Moon did quiet stretches on her rock, to avoid cold and cramp.

Yancy brooded about his various aspects. He was a mixture of the Frog Prince, the kuudere hard-boiled detective, and the ruthless, nameless killer.

In some ways they complemented each other, in other ways they antagonised. He did not know how the combination would play out under stress.

“No use worrying. Gotta job to do. Just do it.”

They heard a howl downhill in the distance. It was Holo. Her cry was followed by a deeper howl from a larger creature.

Yancy looked up at Moon. She looked down at him and gave a thumbs up sign. They checked their guns again.

The howls got rapidly closer, moving up the slope towards the clearing from the direction they needed. There was much more of the deeper howling. It sounded mad and vicious. Hungry.

“Holo’s being chased close,” thought Yancy. “She’s saving her breath. Come on!”

Suddenly the nude figure of Holo burst from the trees. She glowed in the moonlight.

She rushed across the clearing, straight for the rowan. Following her closely was a huge white wolf, as pale as a ghost. It looked the size of a tiger.

The beast was almost upon Holo when she leapt and scrambled up into the rowan tree. The daemon-wolf had rushed past both the ambushers without noticing them.

Yancy stood up. He braced and aimed.

The dire wolf leapt and snapped at Holo’s leg. She screamed! They saw a spray of blood, bright in the moonlight.

Yancy’s heart missed a beat. Then he let rip. He squeezed the trigger and held it down for continuous fire, aiming at the beast’s hindquarters so as not to endanger Holo.

The Tommy-gun hammered the air with noise and flame as it threw 15 rounds per second down range. Yancy’s view of the enemy disappeared in a blaze of continuous muzzle flash.

Three seconds and he stopped firing. Half his ammo was spent. He blinked his eyes to get rid of the afterimage of flame.

The White Wolf shrieked and howled. It was hurt, but it had plenty of fight in it from the daemon which rode its mortal body and gave it uncanny power. He sensed the monster turn and leap towards him. He jumped and rolled to the side.

There was a deep boom as Moon joined in with her shotgun. She saw the magic pellets sink into the daemon wolf’s hide and glow, as they began to sap its wicked energy. But it was still advancing on Yancy, who was blind from the flame of his own weapon.

“Yancy!”

Boom!

“Look out!”

Boom!

“It’s on you!”

Boom! Boom!

Moon stopped firing because her shots were starting to go too close to Yancy. She quickly reloaded and jumped off her rock to get into a better position.

Yancy’s vision began to clear. He saw the head of the wolf looming over him and its jaws open as it went to bite his throat. Its hot breath stank.

He got the Tommy-gun’s butt braced against the ground underneath him and emptied the rest of the drum into the monster’s chest, walking the bullets up to its head.

Even through the flame he saw the magic bullets strike home and glow. The wolf’s head was so close its fur was starting to singe and sizzle in the gun’s muzzle flash.

Click. His gun was dry.

More heavy booms as Moon came in from the flank. The daemon-wolf was distracted. It turned away from Yancy and started to go for Moon.

She was firing, then feeding a shell, then firing again, slowly and methodically raking the wolf’s whole body with magic silver buckshot.

Yancy rolled away and got up. He took a half a second to draw his breath and centre himself.

He ejected the empty drum, carefully snapped the full, heavy, second magazine into place, and cocked the firing mechanism.

He took several strides sideways, to make sure Moon and he could not accidentally hit each other. Then he braced and aimed and fired.

He fired again and again in short, tight, controlled bursts, hosing the wolf’s body up and down, from end to end.

At least 80% of the fat silver bullets struck home. The rest span off into the night. A few hit rocks and howled around the clearing in all directions.

The White Wolf went down.

The Tommy-gun was empty. Yancy screamed with rage and ran to the bloody body of the giant wolf.

He reversed the machine-gun. Holding it by the warm barrel he beat the wolf’s head again and again. The stock broke off and he went on hitting with the metal of the receiver.

“Yancy! Stop! It’s over! Look, the magic has done the job.”

Moon was right. All over the giant white body were dozens of splotches of red blood where bullets or pellets had struck home. In each of them was a point of silver light, the spell of the sigil doing its work to sap the daemon’s power.

The points of light began to fade. The wolf’s body seemed lifeless. Yancy drew his Colt and shot the creature methodically in both eyes, then the back of its skull, its throat, and several times into the spine between the shoulders. The new bullet holes welled out dark, slow blood and a fading magic light.

Finally it was over. Yancy felt sick. Moon turned away and vomited.


TO BE CONTINUED...


© 2019 Yancy08620163 | 8J3U37
aka Starship Captain 88


I'm writing a load of fiction. My latest story starts here... This is the index of all the stories...

We're not very big on official rules. Rules lead to people looking for loopholes. What's here is about it. 
   
Made in jp
[MOD]
Anti-piracy Officer






Somewhere in southern England.

The MPY Kuudere Detective Agency: The Case of the White Wolf, Pt.3


The glade was rank with burnt cordite, singed fur, blood, sweat, and vomit.

Moon was still retching. Yancy felt sick too but he had no time to spare.

“Moon, I’ve never been prouder of you than right now!”

He hugged her firmly, ignoring the sick which dripped onto his coat. He tousled her hair. He gave her his handkerchief to wipe herself with.

“Now’s the time for all of your moxie, Dollface. We have to save Holo.”

He holstered his empty pistol and ran to Moon’s rock. He grabbed the first aid pack and the bag of spare shotgun ammo. Then he ran to Holo’s body. She was moving, but she looked weak. She whispered,

“Yancy, is the daemon dead?”

“Yes, my Lady.”

“Good. You must finish me now. The poison is in my leg. I must not become the next daemon.”

“That’s not gonna happen!

“Moon, get a ground sheet and blankets and the gin. Bring them here... Good. Now lay out the ground sheet on the flat and put a blanket on it.”

Yancy picked up Holo and laid her on the sheet. He put another blanket over her torso. Not for modesty but to keep her warm.

He examined Holo’s leg. The calf was torn on one side where the White Wolf’s fang had got a grip in the flesh.

“I’m sorry, my Lady, but this is going to hurt. Moon, hold Holo tight in your arms. She needs comforting.”

Holo hissed at the unwelcome touch but she was too weak and tired to offer resistance. Yancy stretched out her leg and propperd it up on a backpack. He took his pocket knife and dipped it in gin.

He cut at the ragged wound, as gently as possible, until the blood flowed. Then he put his mouth to the wound, as he had seen it done for snake-bites in the hard-boiled movies, and sucked out the blood and poison. He tasted sweet life and bitter gall.

He wanted to weep for fear of losing Holo, but Yancy knew he must project confidence and skill, to make the treatment work.

Yancy sucked and spat. The red blood gleamed in the moonlight. He sucked and spat again, and again, until he could taste only sweet blood. He thought he had got all the poison out of the wound.

Holo’s blood seeped slowly. Yancy took the gin and poured it into the wound. Gin was an ancient medicine. The juniper oil in it was an antiseptic and the other botanicals had healing properties too.

Holo jumped and trembled at the pain, but she held firm. Moon held her gently, and comforted her with head pats and soft murmurs. Holo bore the indignity because her ears told her the truth; Moon was a friend, trying to help and save her.

Next Yancy took two shotgun shells and opened them with his knife. He spilt the silver pellets onto the ground sheet. He counted out 17 of them, because it was a prime number. He put the other seven into a cup.

He dropped the pellets one by one along the length of the wound and saw them glow as they began to exorcise the daemon’s evil.

Then he bound the wound closed with micropore tape, not too tight because the pellets would be uncomfortable, but he wanted to stop the blood and that needed compression and elevation.

He tied shell dressings on, for padding, and to soak up any leaking blood. He dressed it overall with a triangular bandage, to keep it neat and clean.

“Let’s get Holo comfortable, Moon.” He gave Moon another blanket, and she arranged it over Holo’s body and legs.

Moon opened another shotgun shell and counted out 10 pellets to make 17 in all. He mixed a cup of half and half gin and water. He held it to Holo’s lips. She gulped thirstily.

“This is strong wine! It tastes of the forest.”

“Take these pills, my Lady. They are good medicine.”

He fed her a few shotgun pellets and let her drink again, and again, until she had got all the pellets down.

“Yancy, will this really work?”

“For sure, Moon! I’ve done it loads of times for snake bites.”

This was not true, of course. Yancy was making the treatment up as he went along, based on the idea of treating snake bites. He thought the magic sigils would help, but he didn’t know for certain.

But a lie can become true if you believe in it well enough. The body can find its own healing power even in sugar pills. That’s how placebos work.

Holo trembled from a mixture of pain, shock, and cold. Moon threw off her ruined trench coat and got under the blanket to give Holo her body warmth. Yancy got the last blanket and put it over the two of them.

Now the carcass of the White Wolf had to be dealt with.

Urgency lent Yancy strength. He dragged the heavy corpse by the hind legs over to the place where he had built his hide. He managed to get it partly onto the pile of wood and pushed as much wood as he could around it.

He took the bottle of rye, which was 47% alcohol, and poured it over the dry wood and the dead wolf for a starter. His Zippo lit first time, of course. He set light to the bonfire and stepped back as it roared into life.

By now Yancy felt very weary himself. But there was one more thing he had to do. He gathered the pieces of the broken Tommy-gun and took them up through the forest to the edge of the world.

He had to crawl to the very edge. His irrational fear prevented him from walking too close.

When he got there the moon was shining high above. He looked down and saw the moon shining below, reflected in the mountain tarn where he and Holo had fallen months ago.

Yancy threw the pieces of the gun into the tarn. He watched as they spun down, joined together by the leather shoulder strap, and eventually splashed into the deep cold water. He felt dizzy.

“If I ever need you again, you know where to find me.”

Yancy crawled back from the edge until he felt able to stand. Then he walked back to the dell where Moon and Holo lay under the protection of the rowan tree.

Holo had fallen asleep. Moon was awake. She looked scared and tired and elated and proud, all at the same time. Yancy sat down and pulled a ground sheet around his shoulders. He opened a flask of coffee.

“Here Moon. Get this down you.” He gave her a cup of hot coffee and gin, with plenty of sugar mixed in, and a cream cheese and lox bagel.

“You sure know how to show a girl a good time, Yancy.”

He took the same for himself. He remembered the Boss Coffee and Pocky he had shared with Skyen, by the side of the moon tarn. Anything is good to eat and drink when you’ve gone through the fire and the water and the shadow of the valley of death.

The moon passed its zenith. The funeral pyre of the White Wolf began to burn low. Something about the magic made the body burn to nothing. Probably there were rowan branches and juniper in the mixture of wood. Or maybe it was the spells on the bullets.

At some point Moon and Yancy both fell asleep.

They woke in the early dawn. The moon was gone from the sky. Venus, the morning star, stood bright and proud in the east. The air was cold and clean, this high up on the mountain.

Moon and Yancy felt like hammered gak. They lit the paraffin stove. They fixed themselves a hot coffee with gin, and pastrami on rye sandwiches. Life began to come back to them. The birds sang their morning chorus.

“We’ve known worse, Yancy.”

“That time I woke up in your shower and thought I was dead.”

“I shouted at you because you were locked in the bathroom and I was desperate for a pee.”

“You kicked me out into the hellish light. My head was bursting.”

“Yeah, but I asked you to drink morning coffee with me.”

Yancy still didn’t understand why people got so excited about that.

" I’ve got to go and splash my boots, Moon.”

He went off into the forest for a few minutes. When he came back, Yancy washed in the stream, whose clean water burbled cheerfully through the clearing. He felt a lot better.

“Moon, do you need to, er…?”

Moon did.

Yancy went to see about Holo. Her eyes were open and bright.

“How are you, my Lady?”

“My leg feels bitten and cut, drained of blood, and heavy with magic. But I am free of the daemon."

“We got him for you. There’s nothing left. The job’s done.”

“I chose you well, Yancy.”

“I couldn’t have done it without Moon, my Lady.”

“You asked me to go on our first quest, but it was I who chose you. You asked Moon to become a detective, but it was she who chose you.”

Yancy didn’t really know where this was going, so he clammed up and offered Holo a bagel and a cup of gin and water. She sat up and munched greedily.

Holo’s appetite was healthy in normal times. When she needed strength to heal, she could eat just about anything.

Holo ate all the rest of the bagels and two pastrami sandwiches. She drank two cups of gin and water, and two of hot coffee with sugar.

Her eyes looked bright. Her ears were perky. Her hair and tail shone in the morning sun.

Yancy checked the dressing on her leg. Not much blood had seeped, and there was no sign of infection. He carefully changed it for clean. Holo needed to get to hospital and have a proper treatment as soon as possible..

“My Lady, do you need help to dress? To… relieve yourself?

Moon came and helped Holo to dress. She helped her into the forest for the necessary.

Holo came limping back and put her head into the stream. She gasped and shook the water off, gleaming droplets spraying everywhere like shooting stars in the golden light.

Yancy found a branch which would make a crutch for Holo. He padded it with a torn up blanket.

They checked the pyre of the White Wolf. It had burnt to the ground. Nothing left but ash and the blobs of what had been silver bullets and pellets. Despite the heat they were shiny and bright.

“Shall we pick them up?”

“We’ve got enough to carry, Moon.”

“Leave them to nature.” said Holo. "Jackdaws and magpies will take them for pretties, and attract many females to their nests."

They shouldered their packs and turned their faces towards the centre of the server. It was hard going at first. Holo needed a lot of help to get over the rough ground. Once they got out of the forest the sun warmed their backs, and the going became easier.

When they reached the edge of the civilised channels Yancy rang for a taxicab. The driver demanded double fare because they looked so rough and fit to vomit.

He took them to the junction between Pink Home and the Mod Channel. Here they handed Holo over to the care of the Mods.

“Will she be okay, Yancy?”

“Holo is a force of nature. I don’t think there’s much can stop her.”

Yancy invited Moon to the Palace, since it was much closer than her 1LDK. She accepted gladly, as she always liked to get some girl talk with the Princess.

Onecornchippy had arrived home while the detectives were outside the civilised channels. She was fully recovered from her surgery, and delighted to see her Waifu again. However she refused to hug him or Moon until they had changed their filthy clothes and had a shower.

First Moon, then Yancy went for a hot shower and fresh clothes. Moon had to borrow some from Yancy because Chippy’s were too small. Yancy’s were too big. Moon looked kind of cute in them.

The Princess made coffee and French Toast with fresh sliced pears, and maple syrup.

“So Yancy, Moon, what have you been up to while I was away?”

“Well, the first thing was we got a call from Kou, about this new cafe…”


THE END


© 2019 Yancy08620163 | 8J3U37
aka Starship Captain 88


I'm writing a load of fiction. My latest story starts here... This is the index of all the stories...

We're not very big on official rules. Rules lead to people looking for loopholes. What's here is about it. 
   
 
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