Sunderance - Whistle Stop

   The upbeat tune did little more than drift through the dimly lit room, even drowning out the sound of rustling papers and almost managing to drown out the creak of the under oiled office chair as the figure sitting in it rocked back. Whistling was a good way to keep the stress down, he had found. That was the theory, anyway. At the very least, it required a bit of focus that otherwise might have been spent grinding teeth or chewing on nails or some other habit that would best be avoided. As a male who had never wanted to be in the position he had settled into, bad habits were an easy thing to come by, a fact that his wife often pointed out when she caught him falling into them.

   Even with the whistling, it was hard not to fall into them as he looked over the folder in his lap. The melodic notes were a contrast to what he saw as rusty paws flipped from one photo to the next, each one showing a different wolf in various parts of the city. To his eyes, none of them looked particularly impressive or suspicious but he had learned not to trust his own eyes a long time ago. He allowed the whistling to drift off mid-tune as he raised his eyes to the robust bear leaning back in the chair across his desk.

   “Are you sure about this?” he asked, folding the file closed and dropping it onto the desk with a slap of heavy paper on wood.

   “I know you’re gettin’ old, but your eyes are still better than mine,” came the chuckled reply, one large paw waved towards the folder in an offhand manner as if that verified everything. “The first wandered into town a few days ago, the other four not long after that. One after the other, always a different route, a different look, a different backstory. If we hadn’t been expecting them to show, we would have missed them. I just wonder if anyone else knows they’re in town.”

   “I’m sure she knows allll about them,” he drawled, adding a cheerful lilt to his voice as he drew himself out of the chair, taking a moment to shake out his bushy tail before he wandered towards the kitchen. “The real question is, will she warn him?”

   “Does it look like he needs warning?”

   “Ah, but these are not under-prepared assassins or untrained prisoners,” the fox replied with a grin and a wave of one finger. “The Foxhounds are a step up. Our illustrious Administrator undoubtedly knows how big of a step it is.”

   “So, you do think she’ll warn him,” the bear replied, seeming to relax back into his chair with his large paws folded over his wide belly. The relaxed green shirt he wore certainly did nothing to hide how… rotund he was, but that had never slowed him down before in the fox’s memory. He was a brown bear, after all. “I gotta say, that’s a relief. I know we don’t want our pretty little overlord coming down on us because we dropped a hint.”

   “Oh, now, where’s your sense of adventure, Johnny?” he chuckled, tossing a beer towards the larger male, which was easily snatched from the air despite the bear’s relaxed position. He was about to say more before the phone on his desk vibrated with a familiar tone, one which brightened his mood considerably as he walked over to put the call onto the speaker. “Hello, Darling!”

   “Don’t ‘darling’ me,” came the lovely, feminine voice in a tone that was anything but amused. “You were supposed to be home an hour ago.”

   “Ah, I know,” he said, deepening his accent and adding a bit more flair to the words just because he knew she loved it. “I know. But it was unavoidable. There are battles to fight and damsels that need protecting, you know.”

   “The only damsel you need to protect is the one who has been waiting for you,” she replied tersely, though he grinned because he could hear the affection in it. Somewhere behind the annoyance, anyway. “What was our agreement?”

   “That I would call you if I was going to be late,” he replied, winking at the bear as he picked up the phone and switched the speaker off, so he could lower his tone. “I wasn’t planning on it, my love. I will be leaving in a few minutes and when I get home, you can have your way with me. It’s the least I can do to make it up to you.”

   The snort of laughter that escaped the vixen on the other end of the line made his grin widen and his tail sway from side to side as her reply came through loud and clear.

   “Well, in that case, I’ll leave right now,” he said, his muzzle breaking into a wide smile when John rolled his eyes. “Marian, my darling, I love you more than life itself. I’ll see you soon.”

   “Are you sure you’ve been married for twenty years?” Despite the words, they were spoken with an affectionate chuckle as the bear lumbered to his feet, setting the unopened beer on the desk.

   “Love knows no age, my friend,” the fox replied, sliding his fingers over his greying muzzle to smooth his whiskers before he picked up the folder again and frowned down at it. “Or species. I hope he’s as good as he seems to be.”

   “Not much we can do either way,” the bear said with a shrug, reaching over to slap his friend on the back with one huge paw. It was only their long friendship and the many slaps he had endured over the years that allowed the fox to easily hold his ground against it as they headed towards the door. “Don’t worry so much, Rob. If he is, he would be a hell of an ally.”

   “If he is an ally, which is yet to be determined,” Robin replied, pulling the door closed behind them. “We’ll just have to keep an eye on him and see how much like his father he really is.”