But Why Are All the Sheep Gone?!

[Dulcie]

It was bright and early morning when Dulcie made her way to her family's farm. It was no longer her home, but it was public knowledge that Dulcie spent almost as many of her waking hours there as she did managing the Broken Dagger. She was overdue for a visit and came with a basket of fresh bread and dried meats, a winter time staple.

As Dulcie approached the farm house she was greeted by the familiar sound of mooing of the cows, the clucking of the chickens and the bleating of the goats, and yet she felt as if something was missing from the usual cacophony produced on the farm. Thinking little of it Dulcie pulled open the kitchen door and walked into a world of warmth and happiness. Her younger sister and her husband there with their two children and the table filled with the other 10 of the Miller brood, now all old enough to help around the farm. They were only missing Eleanor who had been gone for many years now, and who Dulcie missed terribly, keenly aware of her absence as she sat down to breakfast with the rest of her brothers and sisters.

The meal was served and the table was cleared, the little ones hurried out to go help with the chores while Imogen set about to pour a cup of tea for Dulcie. Their talks were a weekly ritual and it was one that Dulcie had no plans of ever breaking.

"I have something strange to tell you Dulce." Imogen began, bringing over the cups of tea as she sat down at the table, her brow furrowed a little. "The sheep are gone."

It might have seemed a strange confession to many, but for Dulcie who well knew of her family's dependence on their livestock for survival she was clearly concerned.

"Is there a problem with the fence?" She asked as she took the cup of tea, looking back at Imogen who simply shook her head.

"It's like they've been carried off by wolves. We find fleece and blood left behind. I thought it'd be satisfied after one or two. Those things happen you know? But they're all gone now. And it's not just us either. I've heard it all through the market that people are losing their sheep. Not many as bad off as we are with their flock, but it's enough that people are noticing. If it weren't for the help you give us we'd be in real trouble in the spring Dulcie." She reached out and took her sister's hand then, giving it a squeeze. "You told me before that there was a werewolf at the tavern didn't you? Maybe she's the cause of it. Don't you think we should tell the Governor? Something has to be done about this, it could leave us all in a real bind. No mutton to eat and no wool for our clothes. We can make it through this year, but what about everyone else?"

Dulcie frowned. She never liked the idea of any of her patrons causing problems, and while she still wasn't convinced that it was the werewolf's fault (after all she'd been living in the tavern for a few years, why would she choose this moment to go on a sheep-napping rampage?), but she was certainly aware that something wasn't working out quite the way it should. She'd assure her sister that she'd look into it and try to figure something out. There was bound to be a trader from another city that could get them some lambs to start breeding a new flock with. Still, the whole thing left a sour taste in her mouth, and the innkeeper was not looking forward to seeing what Glenn had to say on the matter.

[Maxwell]

"Well," Mary Ford began as the pair walked through the woods. She had a picnic basket (at the Governor's insistence) and both were dressed for the cold. "At least we have company right!" It was cheerful but a forced cheerful. It was also the seventh time she had said that in the last three hours. The red-headed former farmgirl was a strong proponent (one of her favorite words) of using repetition to convince one's self of something. They were out in the woods waiting for Kacela to find them so they could ask her questions. It would take a lot of repetition to convince one's self of anything pleasant in this case.

Maxwell groaned. He'd done that a lot this trip. He groaned and then he sniffed in another batch of mucus. The cold made his nose snivelly. Terrible for the body's humors. The way that the wind interacted with the bark of ... Oh, why was he thinking this. "A brisk walk through the woods is terrible for the body's humors, Mary. You see the wind interacts with the bark of these empty branches.."

Mary put her free hand up over her left eye, as if she could shut out the half of the world that was frustrating her currently. "I read a book, you know." She continued quickly, not letting Maxwell interject with some smarmy snipe. "It side that humors are all nonsense. That there aren't any such thing."

"Well," Maxwell thumped, verbally, that was. It was far too cold to actually thump anything. He might sprain his brittle wrist if he did! "That book obviously had quite the sense of humor didn't it!" The laugh was as sputtering as the joke and he had to wipe his mouth afterwards, worried that the slight bit of spittle would freeze upon his face. "Everyone knows that the human body is regulated by humors and gasses, Mary." His tone was sharp, patronizing, and matter-of-fact all at once. Despite that, he still showed the aftereffects of his last trip to the forest. He was bundled far more than she, and shivering far more as well. Flashes of memories cascaded in front of his eyes now and again. She kept him on task, though. She was good at that.

She was also good at scowling when the situation demanded it, which seemed to be now. "Well your gasses are particularly feculant, Maxwell."

Another sniff from the scholar. "That," beady, bespectacled eyes, looked at Mary. "is because I am from storied and well-bred stock. Rarified lineage and blood."

At least they had company right? Mary bit her lip, trying to hold in her oncoming laughter. "Rare? More like undercooked and left out in the sun too long!" She couldn't hold it in any longer. The farmgirl-turned-Junior-Inquisitor let out a big belly laugh, far larger than her small frame would indicate possible. Even if something wasn't out there looking for them, they'd be hard not to find.

[Dulcie]

Hard not to find indeed. The werewolf had smelled them ages ago, but Mary's constant chatter was a dead give away. Kacela had been lounging in a tree, relaxing after a day of hunting. Caves were well and good, but nothing quite beat being up high where you could watch what was going on below.

She wouldn't be hard to find, at least not if they looked up anyhow. She had stretched herself out along one of the thick, barren tree branches, her belly resting on the frost covered limb, peering down at the approaching pair from where she was laying. The picnic basket was an intriguing sight, and she sniffed at the air briefly, curious about what was inside.

[Maxwell]

"Ah!" Maxwell shouted. It was one of his more frequent greetings these days. The younger son expatriate scholar had come back from his trip with Treadwell far more balanced and centered than after the incident with Catch, but in the moment, he still had some problems. "The wolf in my head got out!" He shouted. "She's on that branch! Get back in m..."

Thankfully, Mary was well suited to deal with such things. In this case, she boxed him on the shoulder with a closed fist. "Ow." Both said in unison as Mary shook her hand and Maxwell rubbed his shoulder. One glared at the other but the junior inquisitor girl was the first to recover.

"Oi! Up there," she began, more frustrated with Maxwell than intimidated by Kacela, only to cover her mouth at the language that was beginning to exit it. "Ahem." She cleared her throat and continued. "Miss Kacela? Is that you up there. Please tell us plainly and quickly if you are behind the missing sheep. Have you been stealing them. *I* don't think so, but Maxwell..."

The bespectacled man in question snorted. "I can speak for myself, MISS FORD. There's been a wolf stealing sheep and indubitably you are the prime suspect, so we'll just take you in for ques.. OW!" This time Mary wisely used her foot, kicking at Maxwell's shin.

"We do NOT think you did it. But we still have to ask, because if you didn't, then it means something important." Unfortunately, the Governor in questing the two of them with this task specifically, hadn't told them what that important thing was.

[Dulcie]

They were quite the pair, the two of them babbling up at her. Like a pair of children, and almost just as stupid. She'd sigh heavily and grab the branch she had been laying on and would swing herself down onto the ground in front of them, landing in a crouch with a heavy thump that could leave one wondering just how much she really weighs.

For Maxwell there would be a bit of glower, and perhaps just to trouble the man she'd begin to stalk towards him, sniffing near him perhaps just to frighten him.

"You reek of the Glenn Burnie." She said, her nose wrinkling as she took a step back, her eyes turning to rest on Mary for the moment then. "Of course I do not steal sheep. I have been living here for this many moons and this child would think that I start stealing sheep now?" Maxwell earned himself another glare.

"I know what steals the sheep. I have been hunting it. It is a great wolf, like I am a great wolf. We are not the same wolf though. Very different. It stinks of something else. Like the forest kin. What is in the basket?" She had answered their questions, and now she was regarding what they carried suspiciously. For all she knew it could be silver shackles.

[Maxwell]

"Mutton!" Maxwell said with a accusatory point. "It's to lure you out and.." That's all he got out before Mary hit him hard upon the shoulder. The snooty scholar reeled.

Mary Ford stared at him unsympathetically. "Is not! It's a nice lunch with bread and cheese and sausage and i made it myself and I won't have you talking like that because we're going to let Miss Kacela share if she wants it. I've half a mind to not let you have any Maxwell!"

He snorted, deep and mucousy. "Ow! I've been through trauma! You just made up a tall tale about Catch being some sort of drow exorcising folk hero! While he was chopping people with an axe! I faced him down and was granted the wisdom of the ages." he sniffed once or twice before glaring at Kacela. When he spoke it was with a confused rancor. "Get back in my head. Get back in my.." A picnic basket to the side of the face shut him up.

"So it's another wolf, huh?" Mary made a thoughtful expression. "Mister Burnie said something like that. That we were to believe you if you said it plain like that. Well, if you want I'll leave you the basket and we'll be on our way. That's all we really needed to know."

[Dulcie]

Maxwell got more glares. He was ridiculous really, though she didn't comment on it anymore, just listening to what Mary mentioned about what was in the basket. A disappointment.

"I will not take your food. I do not like bread and cheese and sausage." Well, bread wasn't bad exactly, and she didn't know anything about cheese, but sausage had been horrible and she had no intention of repeating that experience again.

Maxwell started talking about Catch and she'd cock her head to the side a bit, studying him curiously. The words were so similar in a way. "How do you know the Wolf Keeper? Is he well?" It was obvious she was referring to Catch.

For Mary next she'd nod. "Yes a big wolf that smells like forest kin. It hunts man too. I have seen it waiting at the farms. It has been beaten each time, but it returns to hunting. It is very fast. I have not caught it. It is not safe for humans to hunt alone." A warning most certainly, though she knew that Glenn Burnie would do whatever it was that Glenn Burnie would do.

[Maxwell]

Mary seemed terribly put out that she didn't want her food. Her nose went up ever so slightly and her eyes narrowed. "Well, there was nothing in our files about what you did like to eat, except for some weird heart, and I didn't have one of those, and it wasn't like I was going to give you mutton to eat even though Mister Burnie thought it was a funny idea, which it isn't, but don't you go telling him I said so, Maxwell, because that's the sort of sneak-creep thing you'd do!"

"The wolf?" Maxwell started, in return to Kacela's question, but a soft slap to the back his head by a put out Mary stopped that.

She continued. "Catch got mad at him and zapped him with a whole bunch of memories or something a while ago. He hasn't been really right since. Never was before. Now it's worse though. He thinks he's a timeless sage or some such. Look, we know what we need to know. You said you didn't do it. Mister Burnie said that if you said that we were to say that we believed you and go. So that's that. Go deal with the wolf how you will. If you need help, send word."

[Dulcie]

She was about to ask what a file was and then seemed to think better of it. She'd just get some snippy sort of answer and it would be easier to ask Kals about it later. She seemed concerned about the fact that Catch had given Maxwell his memories, her forehead crinkling a bit as she thought about it, looking at Maxwell curiously before finally she spoke adding on to what Mary said.

"I do need help. I have not caught it." As if that statement alone should have been obvious enough for Mary to have realized how elusive the wolf was. "Your people, they should hunt in a pack." She was done giving advice to children then and she'd turn her back to the pair of them, heading back into the forest and away from the tree that she had been lounging in earlier.