Vincent eyed Kyle for a bit, as if to give some time for the words to sink in, before he finally nodded. "All right, then. I shall press you no further, as I have other matters to attend to," he responded, turning to walk away. "If there is anything you need, please let Estella know. And--"
The adult cat paused. "--get plenty of rest, Mr. Glenrade."

"Thank you sir, however I feel am regaining my strength already." Kyle replied, ignoring Rico's attempt to bait him.
Some creatures simply have no respect.

The fox seemed only a handful of years younger than Kyle, and still full of a youth's arrogance and self-righteousness. Luxuries Kyle had had to abandon quickly in his line of work.

"I think though," the fox spoke again. "...I might have need for your telephone..."

"But why here?" The cub muttered to himself, still scrunched against the wall, "Everything is being drawn here. Now even deceit. What is it about this place?"
He rubbed his temples stressfuly, looking up briefly at the fixated rabbit sitting on the bed nearby.
"Johnny?... Are you okay? you look spaced?"

"Hm? Yeah. Hey kid, do me a favor alright? I don't know what Mike has told you or done for you, but stay on your toes around him. When it comes to people like us his intentions are never good ones." Johnny rambled off, still looking a little dazed, though he seemed back to reality.

"Well..." It was Estella who spoke this time. "I do believe there is just downstairs from here in the den. None of the bedrooms in here have telephones, I'm afraid."

"It won't... be too long now." Darlena's voice softly echoed in the bedroom, bringing Ryn back to her nearly lost senses. The mother's apparent feeling of pain bad eventually subsided, though she now sounded more faint than before.

"Huh? What are you talking about?" the kitten asked. "What won't be too long?"

A short draw of breath was the childs first responce to John's renewed warnings, but though his night had been disterbed Whix still at least knew there was some stock in the rabbits acusations "Mmm.. I still don't think we're talking about the same person, but I'll keep my ears open none the less."
He glanced over at the awn window, the same distracted look lingering in his eyes "I've got a nagging feeling that we should be somewhere else. It seems like a lot of bad things seem to ocure around here."

Ryn couldn't help but feel a sudden chill as she stood in the room with her mother. Something also seemed to be clouding her senses, as well-- she thought for a moment she'd seen something through the curtains on the windows, but she couldn't be sure.

"Ryn," Darlena's voice spoke up again, this time louder and more distinct, "I don't want to bring you any further into this..." The older feline had her hand lifted, as if to reach for the kitten. "...Sleep, child..."

Almost at once, Ryn began feeling dizzy and light-headed, and she struggled in vain to keep standing. "Wha-- what are you doing to me--?!" she demanded as she was brought to her knees by the strange spell.

"Forgive me, Ryn," was the reply she recieved. "While I cannot ask you not to bear any ill will towards me, I want you to know..."

Ryn couldn't stay conscious enough to hear the last few words. Cursing under her breath, she collapsed to the floor, forced into a nightmarish slumber.

"That's fine," Kyle spoke softly. "If you could possibly direct me?"

"Of course, right this way...." Estella gestured down a long corridor, bedecked in the many ornaments, honours and trophies of the Sonata tewe. Rich colours of woven scarlet and purple from tapestries and banners mixed with the bronze frames of exquisite paintings, all a reminder of Kyle's own home.

"Your lord has a magnificent residence," Kyle commented as the fox and the rabbit walked. "I would have thought that in a place such of this, a creature could easily escape all their woes, and yet he appears greatly troubled?"

"Well," replied Estella, "there have been recent events that have occurred here lately that have taken their toll on Master Vincent. The issue wearing him down most is his wife, Lady Darlena, who is expecting another child. Just before Master Terald found you outside on the front step, I'd just been informed she'd fallen ill..." She trailed off at this point, for they had reached a downstairs room, where just off to the left on a small sidetable was a small, dusty telephone. Its condition seemed poor compared to the rest of the elegant decor, but at least it still seemed usable.

Back in the room, the young boy's ears perked up.
"Did you feel that?"

Vincent almost rushed his way back to the bedroom, desperately hoping nothing happened to his wife while he was away.

He had almost torn the double doors off their hinges as soon he reached his destination, and was semi-relieved when he found Darlena, seemingly all right for the time being. He managed a smile, but that disappeared quickly when he found the unconscious Ryn lying on the floor.

"Darlena," he spoke up, slightly annoyed, "What is she doing on the floor?"

"I... apologize for her, dear," Darlena lied, keeping her voice low. "The poor child was so tired... I... told her to go to bed, but... she refused. She finally gave out... just a couple of minutes ago..."

Vincent let out a sigh and scooped up Ryn from the floor. "I see," he said, frowning. "Strange..."

Terald had long since gone about his own way and stood in the front hall, expecting for the physician to arrive any second. It was strange; it didn't usually take this long for an emergency vehicle to come here...

Raising an eyebrow at the dilapadated device, Kyle thanked Estella and dusted off the 30 -no, probably 40- year old telephone. The dialling mechanism was somehow still functional, and the Warden punched in the number he'd been given. He hoped his superiors would understand his situation...

Estella stayed back, out of respect for the fox's privacy. He was a strange one, this Mr. Glenrade. Everyone who'd met him saw it too.

"...With respect sir, I..."

"...No, not yet..."

The hare couldn't but turn an ear, as the raised voice of the fox floated down the corridor.

"Sonata, yes, feline. A good creature. When this is over I would suggest..."

"...As you wish sir. Kenji be with us all."

Kyle Glenrade fumed. There would be no pick up for him. He would have to stay as a guest of Lord Sonata for the time being. Matters and elements beyond his control were moving ahead swifter than they had all thought. A gathering storm of thoughts rumbled inside his head. Plans, contingencies and survival strategies played out in his mind, driven by a single, powerful emotion.

Anger.

"Mr. Glenrade, is everything alright?" Estella asked politely as the fox approached. He looked distant, almost ignoring her, until he seemed to snap out of a trance to face the hare with eyes burning with the intensity of twin suns.

"Yes, thank you Estella, things are alright..." Kyle continued to walk on, almost as if a whole new persona had manifested itself in him...or had it been hidden all along?

Saying no more, the Warden moved swiftly away, his newfound instensity powering him on.

Dreams...

For a child, they are gateways into their own hearts, their imaginations; they are free to do as they please, heeding no one as they escape the stresses of everyday life whenever they close their sleepy eyes.

They become rulers of their own world, as they often imagine themselves as great and famous warriors and heroes, or a role model that they admire significantly above all others...

In the end, for a child, it all becomes a memory soon forgotten with the confines of the mind, almost never to be seen again.

However, sometimes it is difficult to distinguish the dream from the reality, or the reality from the dream...

- - -

The first thing that she saw when she opened her eyes was the blinding light from the sun, followed by a strong odor of peppermint. As her sight focused, Ryn could slowly make out the shapes of various bushes, trees, and flowers that made up her surroundings.

It was then that she thought she heard the laughter of a small child drift to her ear, clearly and distinctly as the cloudless sky...

The kitten slowly started to move from the grassy spot were she lay, but she paused as soon as she sat up; her limbs felt heavy, she realized, and it was restricting her movement.

She then noticed a ball bouncing in her direction, and a very young Felinoid boy toddling along, determined to grab it with his tiny hands.

It didn't take long for him to spot the older girl sitting in the grass, and once he did, he froze.

Ryn thought he'd turn and run after a bit; however, the toddler simply grinned and pointed a stubby finger at her.

"Ryn-kine."

"What?" The older child raised a brow. "Why are you saying that to me?"

"Jeez, you must be slow," a voice spoke up. "It's all he can say. The kid hasn't even been <i>born</i> yet, ya know."

---
OOC Edit: It's official, I fail. It took me a while to come up with some possible way for a younger kid to refer to an older sibling (i.e.: sister) in an informal way, and something like "-kine" (KEY-nuh) was it. -_-;

"No its not." Came a small reply from somewhere close behind him.
Kyle briefly glanced back, catching sight of the Vulpine cub as it stalked past in the general direction of the front door, mumbling as he went.
"Its defiantly not 'alright', there's something very wrong about this place."

At first, Kyle was unsure of what to make of the insightful vulpine's comment, especially coming from one so young. His suspicions and sense of urgency were becoming greater by the minute.
"And what would you know about this place that I don't, young master fox?"

The cub paused momentarily, looking back at Kyle with a razed eyebrow and an expression of innocent questions.
"I wouldn't know, sir," the kit replied "Because I don't know what you know. And If I don't know what you know, how can I know if I know anything that you don't?"
A momentary distraction of calculation later (the cub had even confused himself with that last statement and had to run over it one more time for errors) Whix looked at the other vulpine as though surveying a familiar landscape.
"Ah, but of course you're a warden, so you already know everything."

OOC: Sorry been very sick this last week, I'll try to catch up tomorrow.

Kyle chuckled darkly.

"Or so we would have you believe. But we can recognise the smell of trouble when it's brewing." Kyle hesistated for a moment, staring off into space as if he were trying to bore a hole into the wall with his eyes.
"A storm is gathering. You can feel it, I can feel it." The warden glanced back at the kit. "I don't believe we've met. Kyle Glenrade." He gave a curt nod, and approached to walk alongside the young cub.

"Who might you be?"

The cub's eyes traced up the towering form beside him until they connected with Kyle's face once more, a mild distrust coveting his features. Something stopped him from commenting about the warden's 'storm' analogy, and he replied flatly to the last question.
"Whixan, sir."

She immediately turned her head to see who had spoken, only to see... nothing...

"Look behind you, stupid."

Ryn shifted again, and was surprised to find a cat around her age. She stood, arms crossed, wearing what appeared to be an old fashioned dress.

"Took you long enough to notice," she spoke sourly, her bright yellow eyes showing anger. "What are you doing here, anyway? Are you and that weird little kid hoodlums from the street or something?"

"What? No way!" Ryn shot back, immediately getting to her feet.

"Well, you sure look like one with those funny clothes you have," the smaller kitten replied. "Where do you come from anyway? You most certainly aren't from around here, are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Whoa... you're quite a riot! You didn't even take a look at where you're standing?!" The smaller cat started laughing.

Ryn turned away from her, muttering under her breath. She didn't like this other girl's attitude... it was too much like her own, except the rudeness was worse.

She was about to start walking when she felt something tug at her pants leg. It was none other that the infant from before, gazing at her with curious eyes.

It was then that she noticed something weird about those eyes-- they happened to be two different colors; the left eye was an emerald green while the right was blue as the sky.

"Ryn," he babbled, still tugging the cloth gripped in his tiny fist.

The kitten couldn't help but smile. He had to be the strangest little thing her subconscious could swing at her, but he was adorable.

"By the way," she spoke up, "about this kid-- you said he hasn't been born yet. What exactly were you talking about?"

"Huh? Beats me. The only one who knows is you. And if you don't know, you sure as hell better figure it out, and fast."

"Fast?"

ooc: Okay, we need to consolidate if we're to save this. What did everyone want to do plot wise in this segment, then we have to work out a way of pointing the group in that general direction.

Currently I believe we need to move on events surrounding Ryn's 'future dream', as Kaze has the highest number of active players on the board all connected to her subplot. I'm assuming Ryn can't wake up until some pivital event has occurred (what that is I can only speculate at) but it seems that we are awaiting this event to move the primary plot forward.

I have a thin sideplot that I can run for a few posts with whix to stall for time, but overall don't yet have any plans in motion for him (though there are several on the sidelines for later). The trouble is that he's a very consolidated character. Even if people followed him around and constantly asked him about his various 'instabilities' he's unlikely to properly interact unless they've earned his trust. I need accessible events that I can push him towards inorder to drive him into interaction rather then dropping him into empty space and hope there's a floor somewhere below.

I'm going to write up a post in the next hour/day or so (depending if I need sleep before I've finished), but it'll be to no avail if you don't continue the subplot. That or we may have to resort the cleche catastrophe* to move us on.

* - (insight a catastrophic event that not only accomplishes the basic initial intentions of the plot but also forces the group to move rapidly onward to a new destination)

OOC: Sorry again guys, seriously. But Between family stuff and Sparky being sicker than I was, my time is spread thin.

~Tobe

OOC: I think with the way my subplot is going, I've sort of gotten my character in a bit of a tight spot, and with RL drama, work, and school, I haven't had much time get her out of there. I have an idea or two in the works, but I'd have to put it down on paper first. I'll try to have something posted as soon as I can.

An unnerving calm had settled upon the deeper halls of the manor. The half darkness that hung from rafters to mahogany floor retreated with the steady intrusion of the crisp sunlight through the tall dining room windows. Ten minuets had passed and still the child stood before the patio doors, staring blankly at the entrance way. Occasionally he had twitched an ear or almost taken a step back, but aside from these disjointed movements he remained still, not so much in thought, as delving into the atmosphere around him. The warden had followed with a careful measure of interest and idle curiosity. Something about the boy was defiantly amiss, now even more so since they had entered the grate hall. It was as though the emotions he sensed flowing around the room were reflected by the child's own, echoing from his surface like a highly polished surface of marble. Thus, it was quite imposable to derive the kits exact motivations.

For too long the cub had been in denial over these nightly occurrences. When he'd been with his parents he had pushed them to one side as bad dreams. But now reality had taken control and forced him before a mirror of the past. At first he had turned away from its frightening surface, disregarding the similarities, pleading ignorance to the truth he had known all along. Now though, as he stood before the deep satin curtains and felt the slight but definite presence, the epiphany finally flourished from within the therma of his soul, as a blood red poppy would on the freshly soiled battle field. A cold haunting shiver passed along his spine as the figurative hand of death settled a comforting hand on his shoulder and in a flourishing movement presented the world with the other.

"This is my truth. And it is undeniable."

OOC: I assumed that you'd follow CTTF, but if you didn't I can edit this easily.

Vincent had taken his daughter back to her room, and closed the door behind him as he left. Too many things were happening all at once today. First his wife, then her... He thought he was going to faint.

Focusing his mind back on his Darlena once more, he sighed and made his way back to the master bedroom... He had to be there just in case things would get worse...

"Hmm?" Terald's ear twitched as there was a sudden knock on the door, prompting him to cease leaning on the doorway in the hall.

It's about time, he thought to himself as he headed for the front doors, hoping that his mother would finally get the help she needed.

Opening the front doors, he felt slightly relieved upon seeing the physician, along with a few others, just on the other side.

"This must be the Sonata residence, is it not?" the doctor, a short pudgy canine wearing thick glasses.

"Uh... yeah." Terald stepped out of the way, staring at him as he went by carrying his small leather bag.

Estella had just entered the front hall at the time, hearing the the short exchange.

"Excuse me, miss," the canine spoke up as he settled his bag onto the floor, "I understand there is a dire emergency that must be taken care of. Can you direct me to where it is?"

"Certainly." The hare nodded. "I shall take you there myself."

She quickly walked off, the doctor and his small group trailing behind her in a stiff manner. Terald wondered if all people involved in medicine were as... strange as that group.

"That's something you're gonna hafta figure out yourself, genius." The shorter cat turned and walked away. Before Ryn could get another word in, she vanished from sight.

The kitten cursed underneath her breath, and kicked at a rock on the ground. At once, the little boy pounced for it, but instead fell over. He started to sniffle a little as he slowly got up, and turned back to Ryn with tears in his eyes.

"Wh-why are you looking at me like that?" she asked, turning her head away in embarrassment. "You didn't hurt yourself, so there's no need to--"

Her sentence was cut off as the infant plopped on his bottom and started bawling. "Hey, st-stop crying." She felt as though she wanted to disappear now. "Please, kid, just stop crying..."

But the wailing only became louder. The kitten began to wonder how someone with such small lungs could make such a fuss. Finally tired of it, she scooped up the child. "That's it! I can't take it anymore!"

The boy's cries ceased immediately, and stared into her eyes.

"That's more like it. First off, if you're going to be following me around or whatever, you're going to have to cut down on the waterworks. Understand?" Ryn raised a brow at him, making sure he knew she meant business. The boy simply hiccuped and laughed.

"Ugh... this is going to be difficult..."

"The shadows." The kit gasped, turning suddenly on heal to face the warden with fear scratched into his face "They're moving."
Kyle crooked his head slightly. Certainly the child was looking his direction, but he was not the subject of his study. Rather the young vulpine appeared to be looking 'through' him, at something in the undisclosed distance. The kit bolted suddenly, his previously unsure naked feet suddenly finding their spring again as he ran at full belt at the door on the other end of the dining room, flinging it open and vanishing around the corner in a blaze of confutation and what felt to be out right terror.

What propelled him was unclear, the boy's unbalanced nature clouding even his own judgment. But he knew exactly where he was going. Through rooms, down corridors and up stairs he ran, soft foot pads barely making a sound on the luxurious carpets and rugs. Finally, as Whixan rounded another corner he skidded to a halt at the banister overlooking the main entrance way, freezing momentarily at the sight of many white coated people walking up the stairs led by the housemaid. A dizzying feeling of nausea washed over him as he scrambled back out of sight just as the party stepped over the threshold onto the second floor balcony and made a right toward the master bedroom at the head of the manor. Something was wrong about them. The way they moved, the way they smelled seamed out of place. As they vanished from sight, Whixan followed, padding questioningly up the middle of the hall way and peering around the edge of the corner as the large group reached the door to the main room.

The kits eyes traced back along the wall, the corridor continuing for a few yards beyond this turning to another door. The on-sweet no doubt. In a light bound Whixan darted past the corner and vanished into the darkness of the onsweet bathroom adjoining the main bedroom. The light was out, but the door to the abode was already ever so slightly ajar.

OOC: Hope that was okay. Its been hectic that last few weeks. I've changed my last post too.

"Right this way please."

Vincent looked up from his seat by Darlena's bedside as the housekeeper entered the room with the physicians following suit.

"What took you so long? You were worrying me half to death!" he said irritably. "Please, just hurry and get this over with!"

"Patience, patience." A chubby dog stepped out from behind Estella, small leather bag in hand. "I assure you, sir, your wife will be... very well taken care of." The last few words carried an air of suspicion, something that immediately alerted the hare.
"Vincent!" she called out before the large Ursanoid behind her hit her in the back of the head, knocking her unconscious.

Before the old feline could react, he found himself staring down a medium-sized firearm held by a vixen who stood behind the Canoid.

"I'm sorry for causing such an inconvenience for you, Mister Sonata, but I'm just doing my job..."

"Job? Who do you work for?"

"I'm afraid I cannot reveal that information. However, my Master does send his condolences."

The cur turned to face the vixen. "Kill them both, and make it quick."

"Yes, sir," came the response as she immediately aimed the gun at the bedridden Darlena. A twisted smile crossed her features just before she pulled the trigger...

She felt a sudden chill come over her as her surroundings darkened without warning. "What now?"

"Bang, bang."

Ryn's eyes immediately shifted to the nameless child, his tiny hand pointed at her like a gun. "Bang. Time up."

Before she could react, the ground underneath her shattered like glass, and she found herself plunging into darkness.

Wake up, Ryn...

True fear. Such a bitter sweet experience for some. The kind of untainted deep terror one can only feel when faced with one's own mortality when one looks deep into the void only to see the daemons waving back. It has turned even the coldest murderers to emotional jelly, and brought the strongest of warriors to their knees in search of mercy.
It takes only a moment of realization, but Vincent was offered no such luxury. With barely a chance to glance one last time upon his ailing wife, the old feline's numb legs gave way, tracks of two silent-shots screaming in his chest with ice cold pain. Finally, the carpet covered floor came rushing up to greet him.
A brief sensation of dampness pooling beneath his chest, before the darkness smothered his fading mind.

Darlena gasped weekly from her bed, bringing both hands to her face in shock. Energy all but drained by the sickness she could do naught but watch as her husband slumped limply to the ground, disappearing below the line of the bedstead. Her waters broke beneath her as the stress took its toll on her unstable body, drenching the sheets and renforcing the horror that her death would take the life of her unborn child too.
"One shot Katrina." Mumbled a serious looking Badger, his striped brow furrowing lowly at the vixen "thats all it takes, get it right next time."
With an air of professionalism he strode up to the bed, remaining hardhearted to the frail pleas of the child baring mother as he drew his silenced weapon and took aim.

The glint of two tear fill eyes was all that could be seen of the imperceptible witness. Had terror not captive bound him to the spot, the child would have surely bolted from the opening in blind panic as the first trailing droplets of blood from Vincent's wounds trickled down his face. But the screams wanted to keep him there, forcing him to watching in horror as his host slumped to the ground. The voiceless screams of overwhelming anger and regret barraged his senses to the point of obscuring the outside world. He barely heard the third shot. But he saw it.
A slight jerk of the hand, a wisp of smoke rising from the barrel and cartage slider.

"Thats it. Mal, set the scene. Kat, put the weapon with the maid. We leave in thirty."
The two accomplices acknowledged the order and split quickly to their dividing tasks. While a coyote moved furniture and knocked over various objects to set the scene of a struggle, the vixen placed the gun firmly in the paw of the unconscious maid, stretching her gloved fingers as she strode back out into the hall way where the other two were standing guard.

The doors to the room closed too with a light click. A few moments of light foot falls and then silence was restored upon the embittered scene. Hollow echoes of panic and despair floated aimlessly like flotsam after an exchange of cannons on the ocean, ghosts of the terrible events that had just unfolded with the ageing walls of Brithen Manor.
Gradually, the painted door to the on-sweet slid open, making a steady combing sound as its edge rasped against the cream carpets, now irreparably stained wine red around the outline of the fallen Vincent. Soft padded foot falls crept slowly out from the entranceway, stopping short of the body laid out before the foot of the bed.
Silence.
Nothing but the sound of a car door closing in the distance and the fragile dancing shadows of emotion flickering like nymph-fly's in the light of dusk. His own short rasping breaths were the only true sound to grace his sensitive ears. Tearful eyes traced upward from the floor and along the edge of the bed, feet following of their own accord, only to be greeted by blood christened halo surrounding the enduring remains of the face he had briefly known. A hesitant white paw reached out to touch a still warm shoulder, pushing against it gently as the kit whispered reassurances to the unheeding woman. With no response the boy pushed a little harder, only to have Darlena's limp head sag to one side, revealing her truth to the kit's denying gaze. The scream stopped short in his throat, emerging as a stifled yelp as he backed away a step while still unable to tare his eyes from the gaping hole in the back of the woman's head. He wanted to run, he needed to get help. But now surveying the bed at a distance something in the maelstrom of emotions caught his attention. A flickering hint of distress emanating from under the bed sheets, as though a faulty light bulb of emotion had been placed beneath them and was now shining momentarily through the weave of cloth. Was she still alive?
Heaving slightly on the sodderned bed covers, Whixan pulled them aside to reveal the felines child-swollen stomach, still mostly hidden under her nightdress. The child sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her belly in mild confusion, still unsure where the allusion of life was coming from. Slowly he leaned forward to place a shaking paw on the mound of fur, a warm stillness greeting his touch. Maybe he would have left it there. But something carried his momentum as though he were on invisible puppet strings, pulling his head down and to the side until his ear rested firmly on the woman's swollen pillow like belly. For a moment the flicker of life simply hovered beyond his grasp.
He felt it first, a tiny movement - no, a kick, a struggle. Then it came in waves. The silent shrill cries of distress, the deep instinctual need to survive gripped the boy tighter and held him down against the still living womb. Struggling in fear against the unseen bonds, a tiny, terrifyingly desperate plea met his burdened mind as the tangle of emotions unraveled itself and found cohesion.
plase.. help me.. I don't want to die.
Whixan let out a sharp yelp and pushed off hard from the bed, sprawling and skittering backward across the floor. A bottle of perfume fell from its precarious place on the dresser as the kit slammed hard into the wooden draws, his pathetic whining form still struggling to get further away from the voice despite the impermeable barrier, the sounds of the tapestries that had beset his eyes now burning brightly in his comprehension.
Panic stood stagnant in his veins, his breathing and pulse raced as tears streamed through his fur, eyes aching with his labored heartbeat. Something was going to give. And it did.
As he sunk deeper into his wooded shelter his hand came upon something sharp, jagged and firm to the touch. Razing his paw reflexively, the kit gazed at the blood seeping from his palm, feeling no pain from the flake of pottery that protruded from the flesh. His eyes traced down to his side and along the trail of shards that the broken Vase had left, the doctor having pushed it from the top.
A decision flashed through his conscious as he leaned over and picked up a long dagger like piece, holding it to his face and grasping it tightly in his injured paw until he felt comforting warm life trickling across his wrist fur. Staggering up to the bed in an almost hypnotic daze, the boy looked upon the white and tan patterns that danced around the side of the struggling womb as he held the pewter dagger above his head.
He could not let another voice join the opera of silence.

Ryn awoke to a familiar ceiling, the disturbing visions still making their seal upon her mind. For a moment she pondered the stillness in the air, and wondered if it had all been some product of the family's stressful times.
It was then that she realized what had woken her. She sat up with a start as the realization came to her that the gentle gurgling cries of a newborn were not a figment of a still unsettled imagination. The room was darkened by the closed curtains, a thin shaft of pure sunlight peering through the unclosed gap and contrasting the artificial glow that fell through the doorway, silhouetting a small gaunt figure that stood on the threshold to her room. It began to advanced into the room, taking one unsure step after another, labored breathing present above even the exhausted gurgling coming from the bundle of clumsily wrapped pure white towels. Now closer, she could see something dripping from the underside of its arms. Had he just taken a bath?
" Terald?" She questioned, the searing sent of blood filling her nose and lungs as she did so.
Then, he stepped into the thin sliver of light that fell from the curtains. The kittens eyes went wide and she clasped her hands to her mouth as she recoiled to the other side of the bed, only common sense saving her from falling clean of the edge.
She didn't immediately recognize the kit, his fur was caked in half congaed blood. Coated from fingertip to bare chest and spreading out across most of his torso. Dribbling off of his elbows and covering the underside of his face, the kitten nearly fainted on the spot as her head felt to spin wildly. The kits eyes were so wide, their pupils shrunk so far that they were hardly visible in the sea of suffering hazel that was his irises.
Every unsteady step he took brought renewed terror to the kitten, ever more horrible details becoming visible by the time he reached her bedside.
In silence, with the gentleness of the most caring of parents, the cub laid the towel rapped bundle on the bed, carefully extracting his arms from under the babe before taking a step back and looking up at the still frozen kitten. For a moment she half expected him to smile, some hideous twisted smile that would haunt her for the rest of her days. But his mouth remained slack, his eyes left all the scars needed upon the memories of the kitten. And he turned. Walked unsteadily to a corner of the room and twisted his back into the crook, before defeat took his strength, and he sank to the floor, his mind carrying on down into the darkness of thinking.
A silent moment passed.
The kit looked around as if to check that he was defiantly no longer needed.
Satisfied of this, the boy steadily pulled his legs in close, spreading the blood across his knees as they pressed into his chest.

And then.

He screamed.

Reality came crashing down on her the moment she heard that blood-curdling cry; it was just as she was told the day before...

Her mother was dead.

And the kit who now cowered in the dark corner of her room had seen it all.

She didn't dare ask about what had taken place while she was trapped in her subconscious... all she knew was there was nothing she could do...

The newborn's persisting cries brought her back to her senses after a moment, and the need to know what happened beckoned her to her parents' room.

Holding the infant close to her, she made her way down the corridor, unsure what to expect. Each step she took made a creaking sound on the old wood floor, threatening to shatter the unnatural silence in the manor. Ahead of her, she spotted her brothers gathered outside of the doors, each of them in utter shock.

Her fear was starting to get the best of her, but she told herself to keep going. She had to know...

Nathan and Junior spotted her first, and gazed at her with wary eyes.

"Ryn," the youngest spoke up, "Why do you have that towel? Are you carryin' somethin'?"

She wanted to speak, but she couldn't think of anything to say; she was just as clueless as they were.

Her eldest brother walked up to her, stopping only right in front of her, staring right at the bundle in her arms.
"It's... it's the kid, isn't it?" he asked, his voice without the usual rough tone it carried.

The kitten nodded in reply, staring at the carpet that lined the hall.
The creaking of the door made her look back up as Terald and Robert emerged from the room, both looking forlorn and lost. Julius followed at their heels, wiping tears from his eyes.

"So, what is it...?" Junior piped up.

"Father is barely hanging on... Mother is dead," Julius sobbed. "They..."

"They've been shot," Robert added.

"Who did it?" Nathan growled. "Who was it, Rob?"

Robert's head sank; he couldn't bring himself to speak. It was Terald who answered instead.
"Estella."

Estella?!
At once, Ryn bolted past her brothers and stood in the open entranceway.

What she saw made her scream.

Crimson... the color of blood... it stained the carpets on the floor, the tapestries on the walls, and the sheets and blankets of the bed. The scent of death irritated her sensitive nose and made her feel ill.
She wanted to tear her eyes away from the sight, but her fear kept her rooted in place. Even the child's cries couldn't bring her back to reality this time.

Catching sight of another familiar face, her eyes shifted to see the unconscious form of the housekeeper on the side of the bed, with a firearm in hand.

This isn't happening...

Right...?!

The kitten sank to her knees. "No..."
She didn't want to believe what she saw.

"No..."
She didn't want to believe that the only one she trusted so dearly had committed something so heinous...

"No..."
She shut her eyes tight, but the image was already seared into her mind.

"NO!"

He screamed.

Only once. But it was enough.

It was the kind of scream you might hear from someone who had just jumped from a cliff, but so many more emotions were packed into its long mournful notes that seemed to penetrate through flesh and bone.

Every soul in the ill fated household trembled with that howl, not even the hardest of minds was left unshaken by its gut wrenching agony.

It trailed off as the child's lungs ran dry.

And after letting shuddering breath into his blood soaked knees, the kit's eyes went dark.

A grating curse came from behind her, the young hare dodged into the room looking furious. He screeched to a halt by Estella's unconscious form, "@#%$! It's too early, what the hell IS this!" The adolescent snapped fiercely, "This is gonna put Sodalitas on full alert, what kind of bumbling retards dreamed this up?!"

He sneered toward the door, "RICHARD!" There was a mixture of banging and trotting before the younger boy entered and stopped dead in his tracks. The rabbit shot him a icy glare, "No @#%$ around Underwood, take care of this. It's started, I have to go. When you're done here you know what to do."

Rico swallowed and vacantly nodded, "What about..." Kinnear snapped at him again before he could finish, "Crossing the Servi, now? They'll be dead before Exodus. Once Kenji hears about this..."

"Quit whining, brat."

Both boys stopped watching a large grey tiger stripped feline bounce down from wherever he'd been perched. The rabbit narrowed his eyes making his usually lucid demeanor increasingly aggressive yelling at the larger adult, "Why the hell didn't you STOP them?!" Rico tensed the full area of his self, still paralyzed by the scene of gore and atrocity.

The newcomer stood up, his black overcoat masking a duo of some variety of martial sword. His piercing blue eyes froze the entirety of the room. His actions were as if the foxboy didn't exist, "I was sent to observe, idiot. It seems there was a preemptive strike. Sucks to be them, what an offensive act."

Rico's mouth moved a little, then worded out clearly, "If the Warden were only watching the Sonata's they wouldn't have sent an assassin, Reave." The hybrid only raised an eyebrow and turned to leave.

"Where are you GOING?!" John bellowed out at the retreating man. He stopped and looked back, "I can't observe something that's dead. I'm going to retaliate for their ignorance then do just what you are going to do, return to Kane. Have our project fix this, we have work to do."

"What WORK!? IXCIS! Do NOT ignore me! I'm Richard of House Underwood!" The small vulpinoid child barked out at the still relaxed assassin. Reave simply ignored him and walked out the front door.

Kinnear was forcing himself calm down all while the younger boy was taunting the hired killer. Once he'd appeared to have left the rabbit spoke taking the gun from the still blacked out bunny, "Ricky. Take care of this."

The boy looked over more enraged hollering at the top of his lungs, "BUT THEY MURDERED THEM IN COLD BLOOD!" John's eyes were more sad than anything now, "I know." The fox balled his small hands and seethed, "AND IF HADN'T BEEN THEM IT WOULDA BEEN US THAT KILLED THESE PEOPLE! WHY THE HELL ELSE WAS THAT THING HERE! KENJI WAS GOING TO HAVE THEM KILLED TO START THE WAR!" The child was panting and growling with rage.

The slightly older bunny closed his eyes, "Yeah. Seems we got a lot to think about, huh? But we need to fix this as best we can first. I'll get rid of the gun, you explain the details to the enforcers, they'll be here soon."

Ricky took a few deep breaths and made a small realization then his demeanor changed to match his older companions, "Because I'm one of them, right? They have to listen to me, right? Is that the only use I am to these people?" John didn't answer, instead he turned and exited the room, and building, without a single word.

The foxboy staggered over to Whixan, and sat down next to him silently.

ooc: Nothing I can do at the mo. I could post some poetic crap about silences but apart from that Whix is just going to sit there looking catatonic.

The kitten remained on her knees, unsure of how she should feel. She was a little relieved knowing that Estella had nothing to do with this tragedy, but to take someone's life... it was something she couldn't stand.

"Some birthday, huh, Kenneth*?" she finally spoke to the newborn, sounding small and distant. "You've already gone through a lot and you're not even ten minutes old."

Finally rising to full height, she carefully stepped over the unconscious hare and walked to one side of the large, blood-stained bed.

The dead woman's eyes were still open, she had noticed; with one motion of her paw over the face, they were closed.

"At least... they didn't suffer..."

After a moment of silence, the kitten turned to walk away, but she paused. Julius had just stepped into the room.

"The enforcers... they're here."

*Referring to the late Kenneth Sonata, Vince's brother, who was killed in an accident when Ryn was a small child. She's decided to name the kid after him.

----------
OOC: Well, I'm sorta stumped now. Anyone got any ideas?

OOC: I assumed we were awaiting the arrival of the police. I may whip up another temp character as a lieutenant so that we can push things forward.

OOC: Sorry. I thought I had something going for a bit, but my brain's refusing to work. ><

OOC: Am writing reply now, bare with me >.<"

Life is built up of moments. Each one is flexible based on our own perceptions, untethered from the physical measurement between one second and the next.
Many moments passed as the two boys sat there in their own individualistic verities of silence. One was a silence of brooding contemplation, a mess of thoughts buzzing around the young Underwood's mind. The other was an empty, hollow silence that would send shivers down the spine of even the best psychiatrist. It had taken less then an hour for the ambulances to arrive, flanked by several enforcer vehicles. The authorities wasted no time in taking the gravely wounded feline away, one of his sons riding with him in the ambulance as it screamed off down the road. Yet no one had come to find the two boys. It was only now that he thought about it that the young Underwood realized that the child next to him was a mere unfilled void to his emotional senses. Casually he waved a hand before the dilated eyes of the young blood spattered vulpine. He wasn't even sure if Whixan knew where he was. Rico 'humph'ed under his breath and stood to leave, remembering what Jonathan had told him to do.
But he had hardly turned toward the door when he felt a small but firm tug on his coat.
Rico looked down sharply to see a small blood soaked paw clinging to his sleeve.
"Don't go."
The small voice seemed unnaturally calm, especially with the state of its owner. Whixan still appeared to be in a semi-aware trance, all that had changed (apart from his hand) was that his mouth now hung open a little.
"I don't want to be alone with them."

--ooc: I'm not sure if Rico will want to do any interaction here, but if so just consider it happens before Jack's arrival.--

This was the kind of callout any inspector in their right mind dreaded. Murders were not exactly uncommon, a city this big has its fair share of gangs, psychopaths and domestic disputes gone awry. But the circumstances of this particular incident make all the difference in the world.
As his partner spun the wheel to round a particularly precarious corner the Inspecter grunted lowly as his shoulder bumped up against the passenger door, served him right really for being so deep in thought, he was scarcely aware of the siren.
One last time, the old dog ran over the brief in his head. A noble family well known in the upper crust of society, living in a good district of town, shot by their lapin housemaid. The initial report had been anonymous, the caller claiming to be a member of a relatively unknown sect. The second from a younger member of the family merely confirmed the report, but by then enforcers had already been dispatched. Initial radio communications had confirmed it, the head of the house was gravely wounded and his pregnant spouse was dead. All in all this was going to cause more problems then its face value. Tragedy it may be, but it was also a dry log on a kindling fire that had been slowly gathering heat in the warden sects. Tensions were already blisteringly high between Sodalitas and the other rogue sects, an incident like this could bring the whole house of cards crashing down. Worst of all, it would be his department in the front lines when it did.
Hopes of a press blackout were abruptly broken when they pulled upto the street to find several small groups of paparazzi already heckling the guards at the blockade. Clearly their anonymous informant had taken the liberty of tipping off the local news stations too.
Jack sighed audibly as they passed the duo of shoulder mounted cameras, the reporters shouting garbled questions at the car as they drove up to the front of the building. The old wolf rubbed the bridge of his muzzle with a firm paw.
Parking just short of the main drive, the Inspector and his partner opened their doors almost simultaneously. Walker set a firm pace towards the house, yellow eyes dead set on the ambulance into which a trolley was being hastily loaded. A young feline officer stopped them at the gate, Jack immediately flashing his id card to the over eager recruit.
"Inspector Jack Walker, Section D."
The man scrutinized the far out-dated picture momentarily; it had long been in need of replacement. Jack Walker was the sort of man who carried that unmistakable ozone of an 'old beat cop'. Square set yet not over built, the old wolf was far past his prime but still looked as though he was not the kind to be messed around. His shaggy, brown fur was tinted grey at the root and his head fur was kept at a far more respectable length then in the photographic id. In fact the only thing about the id' that remained untouched by time were his vivid yellow eyes. They were sharp and crisp, the kind of eyes that never lost that slight sparkle of calculating predatory menace. From that alone you could tell he was the type of cop who'd seen it all and the results where they were needed.
Not the kind of person to be called out on trivial matters.

Satisfied, the puma saluted and gestured for the inspector to pass. Jack nodded and his gaze was immediately greeted by the ambulance coming down the drive way with lights flashing. Behind walked a short, stern looking Collie who's coat looked as though it had seen far better days. Though he retained his sights on the door to the manor, Walker changed his stride slightly to allow the man to fall into pace beside him.
"Glad you could get here so quickly, Jack." The slightly younger dog muttered, "Millbrow has asked me to bring you up to speed."
Walker nodded lowly "What's the score then."
"One Male feline, mid third-centurys, critically injured with two gunshot wounds to the chest. He's been positivly id'ed as Vicent Sonata, head of the house hold. The medics have already taken him to ER. Second survivour is a single female Lapin found unconscious at the scene. She is the suspected assilent and this has been suported by the initial testimonies of the victims children. At present there is only one dead. Victim is a mid third-centuries female feline, single gunshot wound to the head; clean through, with massive trauma to her abdominal region." The constable paused as they cleared the stairs and entered the lobby. "The children and other witnesses have been confined to the downstairs lounge until we can take statements and arrage transport. One of them has the new born that was taken from the dead woman and all are giving various conflicting stories."
"Has the crime scene and general area been closed off?" The inspector queried, stopping in the hallway to examine his surroundings.
"Yes sir," the collie replied "But we've only got a few men at the moment, so we've left the scene untouched and worked on keeping the press out and searching for any other witnesses or suspects. There is one other thing sir."
Walker razed an eye brow as the collie lowered her voice to continue "The witnesses believe there are several people missing from their number that were involved. It appears as though one of them might be young master Underwood"

"What's going to happen to us now?" questioned Julius as he stared out the window in the family library. "Are they going to split us up?"

"Who knows?" Robert spoke up. "As long as they get that @#%$ bucktooth out of here, then I don't care."

"Yeah, who woulda thought that Stell was capable of this?" Junior piped up. "Looks like I was wrong about rodents, eh, Terry?"

The youngest Sonata boy turned to his third eldest brother, who was leaning against one of the wooden shelves. "Ain't I right, Terry?"

"It's... not possible," Terald muttered bitterly. "It had to be those so-called doctors I let in. Estella was there with me..."

"WELL TELL ME THIS, TER," Robert shouted, "IF WHAT YOU SAID HAPPENED, THEN HOW THE @#%$ COULD THEY HAVE GOTTEN AWAY?! HUH?"

"Shut up. You'll wake Kenneth."

Robert's eyes quickly found his adopted sister, who sat cross-legged on the floor next to Terald cradling the infant.

"Why should I, Ryn? Tell me, you dirty little street @#%$! Tell me why I should keep my mouth shut!"

"None of us know anything." The white kitten gazed at him with empty violet eyes. "The only two who know what really went on in there is Estella and Vincent, Sr."

Robert opened his mouth to retort, but Ryn's demeanor was sent a chill down his spine now. Instead, he turned and started pacing the room, as though he were impatient.

Ryn's mind was swimming with her own questions and thoughts...

"KENJI WAS GOING TO HAVE THEM KILLED TO START THE WAR!"

Wait a minute... Underwood couldn't have been talking about the same Kenji Pendragon... the one in the Remembrance...

Something is going on here... something much bigger than this...

Rico fought the younger boy off with hard eyes at first, but the youth wasn't looked at him. Though his hand was still clinging to Rico's garb.

The boy took in a breath, something about the way Whixan was acting made him think about someone else. Someone waiting for him at home, someone that needed him. The foxboy winced and muttered out quickly, "You can come along if you want, but I have some adults to manipulate." With that he shoved the boy's hand off him. Then turned around fully, "When you require a hand to stand up, you take someone's hand, not their pant-leg, here." Rico offered a hand to Whixan, his eyes still narrowed and untrusting, "Are you coming with me or not?"

Another one of those strained moment passed as Rico held out a paw of assistance to the cub, taxing the young Underwood's short patience to its outer limits. But at the eternity's end, the empty eyes of the neurotic kit slid to the edge of his sockets and his dilated pupils fixed on the hand out stretched before him, his head eventually following till his face was centered on the black-gloved offer of help. With a glance down at his own paw as if looking for clarification of what exactly he was supposed to do, the kit took the apposing youth's paw and was quickly yanked to his feet. Still looking mildly dissatisfied, Rico turned and walked firmly out into the hallway, pausing only to glance back to see if the annoyance was following or not.
To his frustration whix had stopped dead in the light of the hall way and was staring at his own paws with a look of total confutation. Rico growled in distain and was about to march off again when the cub's head suddenly snapped up, distinctly distant gaze meeting his own with a look that froze the vulpine in his tracks. For a fleeting moment, he swore there was something else standing in the exact same spot as the child, as though two things... no, two 'scenes' briefly occupied the same space. But in a blink it was gone, not nearly long enough to truly say whether it was any more then a simple trick of the light.
"I'll follow soon." The child said in a slightly less eerie tone "I need to wash my hands"
Whixan turned and walked a few paced down the hall to the family bathroom, speaking once more as he turned the handle.
"The man is waiting for you."

--

Jack surveyed the blood spattered crime scene. It wasn't the worst he's seen, but then again, there was no 'best' to compare it with. If he wanted to be philosophical about it then the best would obviously be the one where the suspect was easily caught and the evidence laid out so perfectly as to leave no doubt of guilt. But in the end there was still a victim, so what good was a prosecution after the act? A little like shutting the stable door after the horse had bolted.
Yellow tape was already being placed over the door to the on-sweet in readiness for forensics and the room was littered with tiny cones where initial finds had been marked and photographed. In front of him lay the body, her stomach pearced and torn open like some wild animal had ravaged the body to get at the unborn child. Nearby a whole section of carpet was smeared with bloody streaks and paw prints, the frantic scrabbling of the 'circumstantial-midwife' crowned by crude pottery scalpel that had been used to butcher the mother's dead womb. Who had done it though was still one of his main questions. The prints suggested someone small, yet the activity would have bathed the perpetrator in blood and he dreaded to think of the psychological implications. Not one of the household children had any signs of this, yet there was always the others that were still unaccounted. Satisfied at what he had seen, the inspector turned on heal, motioning to the guards to seal up the room properly. It was time to find out just what had transpired this terrible night.

--

The inspector was a menacing man when he wanted to be, and it was this sense of presence that the children all felt when he first entered the living room where they were seated.
Jack's eyes scowred each and every face, taking note of them all one at a time and making his initial judgments on how useful they would be. Apart from the one that had gone with the father to the hospital, all the Sonata children were accounted for. There was also another noble who's face he had not recognize; but he currently being questioned in an adjoining room by Millbrow.
Relaxing his shoulder's, Jack closed the door behind him to shut out the hubbub of the rest of the house and took a few steps into the room before addressing the gathered party of youths.
"Alright then." He said, his tone remarkably reassuring (though 'of what' exactly depended on how guilty you were feeling) "let me tell you how this is going to work."
The old wolf stood firmly before the room of youngsters, eyes tracing steadily from one face to another while his hands were held loosely behind his back.
"I know this night has been traumatic for all of you. Some more then others." His gaze hovered on Ryn for a few seconds before moving on again "However, your personal feelings on the matter do not belay the fact that there has been a murder here tonight and as it stands you are some of the few witnesses we have. We will require statements from all of you, as well as many other tedious and necessary procedures that we have to go though.
"Now, if it up to me we'd all be on our way to the station by now to get this business over and done with before releasing you to your next of kin. But apparently the chief wants you taken into protective custody. There's rooms reserved for you at a secure hotel, so we'll conduct the interviews there. However, I do have some questions I'd like to ask before hand."

ooc: I'm trying to sort the wheat from the chaff with the 'hotel' move. It'll give us an opportunity to either brake our characters away from the rest of the sonata family, or to at the very least move location. The location should give Ryn her best chance of getting away with her infant sibling, while I expect Rico will probably be given armed protective escort back to his fathers home after spinning his yarn to the enforcers.

Rico narrowed his eyes, then nodded slowly walked back down the hallway. "A standard Enforcer procedure is to gather the witnesses to properly weed up possible suspects." The boy muttered to himself, "The living room would be the best place for that, it's close and large enough to see them all." His own words fresh in mind he walked rhythmically to the living room. Once there stopped at the door, hand on knob, and putting one side of his head gently to the wooden barrier.

"Now, if it up to me we'd all be on our way to the station by now to get this business over and done with before releasing you to your next of kin. But apparently the chief wants you taken into protective custody. There's rooms reserved for you at a secure hotel, so we'll conduct the interviews there. However, I do have some questions I'd like to ask before hand."

The boy looked throughful for a moment, Protective custody? Children? They must already suspect the killer wasn't the woman, this will be easier than I thought. But since I don't know the identity of the murderers I'll have to say something, just telling them she didn't do it isn't good enough even with my lineage. However... The encounter with the mysterious assassin stood out on a pedestal in his mind. Pieces falling together like raindrops do on a pond, and this pond seemed perfect.

He smiled himself and opened the door. Jack whirled around at the interruption, half expecting an armed felon or something of that sort, but what entered the room was a paniced child, eyes wide with fear and limbs shaking. "Mister! You gotta help him, you gotta help my friend!"

Jack razed a startled eyebrow at the child's sudden and mildly over dramatic entrance. The boy had barely taken two steps into the room before Jack's eyes finished surveying him, taking in details and hoisting little flags in his mind. Vulpine, about the right age and hight. It was also highly unlikely that the other 'missing witnesses' were of the same specie.
Jack's face slid back into its original 'reassuring' posture, his words cutting through several main questions in a single sentence.

"Ahh. Young master underwood I presume? Good of you to join us. If you'd care to take a seat and calm yourself, perhaps you could explain whom you are referring too."

Richard cursed himself suddenly, he couldn't remember the kid's name. But recovered quickly, playing on the simple fact that adults in bulk considered kids to be sub-sentient. He faked a flash of frustrated anger and continued in a slightly less loud series of yelps, "I dunno his name, I just met him tonight! But he was there when it happened I think, but he's blaming himself!"

"I see." The old wolf replied plainly, the identity of the mysterious surgeon leaping to the for front of his mind. "And do you know where this 'eye-witness' is at the moment?"

A smile so slight only someone that could peer into mind would notice flashed for a split second on his face as the word Perfect flashed through his thoughts. A look of concern and confusion played for the enforcer as the boy spoke, "He, he ran to the bathroom, he kept saying there was blood on his hands. But... but there wasn't any."

Ryn had only looked up briefly when the inspector entered the room and started flapping his gums. As far as she was concerned, he certainly had some guts waltzing in here at a time like this. She wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone, especially after what had happened today.

She still kept to herself when the door burst open and the young foxboy from before came rushing in, causing baby Kenneth to stir in his slumber.

The kitten felt a light tap on her shoulder, and turned to Terald.

"Take this," he whispered low enough for only her to hear, handing the her a wallet attached to a strap. "There's money on here; use it to get whatever you need. Put it around your neck."

Ryn gave the older teen a questioning look as she took it from him, hoping the exchange wasn't noticed.

"Mom handed it to me last week for some reason," he added. "Said that if something happened to her, hand it to you as soon as possible... I think."

Ryn still looked confused, but she nodded and hid the small parcel in a pants pocket.

Her eyes quickly shifted to the inspector. Good, he was still busy flapping his gums... but he looked to be the type who would notice in a heartbeat if someone were trying to sneak away from him.

She encountered his type before a long time ago; they always made it look like they had some power over you. It didn't matter if you were the perp or not; if they thought you did it, they'd break you down until they made you confess.

After another moment, Ryn watched as the inspector left the library behind Rico. As soon the echo of his footsteps faded in the hall, she stood up to full height.

Show time...