Zig Zag is Copyright © Max Black Rabbit. Sabrina, Darke Katt and R.C. are Copyright © Eric W. Schwartz. James Sheppard, Marvin Badger, Rhonda Badger, Yohni and Esteban are Copyright © James Bruner. Alex O'Whitt is © Tigermark. The B-Team is © Silver Coyote. Jean LeBrun, Gabrielle Ryder, Colton Twain, Kalen Twain-Ryder, Francis Lopez, Charles Lopez, Timothy Bigglesworth-Farthington von Salzburg, Malcolm Grazer, Peter Spermophilus, Miranda Spermophilus, Dina Spermophilus, Miriam Redtail, Fox Jones, Leo Leon, Lizzy Doe-Leon, Nadia Leon, Emma Grey, William White, Steve Wulf and Pethouse Magazine is © Joan Jacobsen, 2007. All other characters appearing in this story, except where otherwise specifically noted, are likewise © Joan Jacobsen 2007.

Legal Notice: This story is Copyright © 2007 by Joan Jacobsen. This story may not be sold or used for commercial profit in any form or fashion. This story may not be modified in any way. This story may not be posted on a mirror site or any other Internet site without the written permission of the author. This story may not be distributed on print, magnetic, electrical or optical mediums.

Permission to use characters that are Copyright other individuals was obtained prior to the appearance of said characters.  

The author, Joan Jacobsen, hereby asserts moral right to be identified as the author of this work. 

This is an independent work of fiction with no connection whatsoever to Max Black Rabbit, Eric W. Schwartz, E.S. Productions or James Bruner and is in no way meant to imply any connection with Max Black Rabbit, Eric W. Schwartz, E.S. Productions, or James Bruner. This story contains characters created by Max Black Rabbit, Eric W. Schwartz, James Bruner, Tigermark and Silver Coyote. Events and characters occurring in this story should not be considered part of the storylines for either 'Zig Zag', 'Sabrina Online' or 'Sabrina Online - The Story'.

In fact, as far as 'Zig Zag', 'Sabrina Online', 'Sabrina Online - The Story' and 'Zig Zag the Story' are concerned, this story does not exist. The artists disavow any knowledge of and do not officially sanction the events in this story.

On a bench in a park in England

Kalen stretched his old legs and got comfortable on the bench. He let his cane lean against the bench, and then he leaned back, folding his paws over his midsection. It was a fine summer day. There was no rain and the skies were blue. By the standards of the average English summer, it was an outstanding day, in fact, and Kalen fully intended to enjoy the fullness of it.

He was an old fur now. Old, but still full of vim and spark. Ninety one summers had come and gone since his mother brought him into the world, but by all accounts, he was as lively as a seventy-year old. Then again, the average age was almost ninety by now, and since medical conditions like senility and Alzheimer's had been long since been eradicated, old furs enjoyed life in a way that would have been science fiction when he was a young lad.

He grinned to himself at the thought of his youth. He'd been such a character. So had all his friends.

Now...they were all gone.

A momentary sadness came over him at the thought of that. Nadia had passed away last summer. She had been the last, except for him. Steve had been dead for nearly eight years. Four years ago, Charlie and Frankie had gone...only two months between them. Inseperable in death as they had been in life.

Dina had passed away first. Almost fifteen years ago, of a blood infection. It had hurt him terribly, even though they hadn't been a couple since their college days. She was his first love, and he would always remember her for that. He'd always remember the way he felt the first time he realized how he felt about her. In some small way, he had never really stopped being in love with her, but it had changed.

Sighing, his good mood had momentarily gone, but it returned quickly enough. His friends had all lived good, long, happy lives. None of them had gone painfully. Not even Dina. She just...faded away and died before the doctors found out what was wrong with her.

It felt like a lifetime ago already. Kalen folded his fingers and drummed his thumbs against his stomach. A couple of kids came running by. One of them carried a football. The European version. A soccerball.

Not that many kids played soccer anymore. There was a new big fad in Europe for a new ballgame. Or rather...it wasn't new anymore. It had been played competitively for over thirty years. It was called RamBall, and it was considerably faster than soccer. With more points scored. It had made its debut in the United States as well, and it had quickly grown to about the size of Football in terms of fan-following...then evened out.

Still, some kids still liked to play soccer one-on-one or two-on-two or something like that. RamBall wasn't a game that could be played just anywhere...but soccer could.

"Hello Mr. Twain-Ryder," one of the children called out, waving at him.

Kalen waved back happily. "Hello James. How are you today?"

"Doing well. Thank you for asking, Sir. How about yourself?"

"Oh, as always, really. Still well enough to beat you two young punks at Football!"

The child laughed warmly and kicked the ball to his friend. Kalen sat still for a moment and watched them. Cheltenham was a lovely little town. It seemed it had somehow stopped in time, almost a hundred and fifty years ago, and never moved on. It was a special place...the sort one would only find in a few places in the world. The English countryside being one of them.

Kalen had moved there almost forty years before. He had been in his early fifties then, and he still recalled that part of his life with pride and joy. His children had moved away from home by then. Jean...his firstborn...had started college. She'd been good at it too. She got her degree in psychiatry and made a living helping furs. She was an old femme now...with children of her own. In fact, she'd just become a grandmother. Kalen was a great-granddad, and he relished it. Steven, his second child, had gone on to a degree in biology. He had helped refine the ways in which non-pollutant fuels were produced from biological waste material. It was a filthy job, as he always said, but someone had to do it.

Steven had made a fortune doing it, before passing away. His only daughter was now expecting her firstborn.

She had already been told it would be a girl, and she had told Kalen she intended to name her Vishalya. Kalen had been touched.

It was the name of his late wife.

He smiled again at the memory of her. They had met two years after he got his college degree.

That had been a tumultuous time of his life. When he had finished college, he had entered the NFL draft and been picked up by Jacksonville in the fifth round. Everyone said he was a first or second round talent, but the gunshot wound that Benjamin Aureus had inflicted on him had caused concern. No one was sure if it would cause him problems at the professional level. Still, he hadn't been alone in waiting. Steve too had entered the draft that year and they had sat side by side, waiting to get that phonecall. The wolf had gone in the fifth round as well...five picks later...to the Fargo Greys. Somehow, that had been particularly fitting. They were an expansion team, trying to build up a core of players...and their team logo was a grey wolf.

Steve had helped make that team a competitor. His career had been glorious, and while he and Kalen had never played for the same team, they had met on the playing field on a number of occasions. Both had victories to show for it, and they had remained the very best of friends despite the competition.

But during those first few years, Kalen had been very alone in Jacksonville. He didn't get any playing time, and while he learned from some really good Quarterbacks, he was never close to the starting job. After three years, however, he got his chance and grabbed it. He'd been moved up the depth chart to the second string quarterback, and the rumors of the old gunshot wound had slowly faded away.

Then he had met Vishalya.

He'd never seen anything quite like her. By that time, he and Dina had long since parted ways. On the best of terms, too. They remained close friends, they just...couldn't make it work as a couple. And Kalen was slowly starting to wonder if he'd ever meet the right girl. In retrospect, it felt silly. He was so young...of course he would. But at that time, he'd been increasingly certain he was doomed to life-long solitude.

Until that night where he had been invited to a party at the governor's mansion. Kalen hadn't really been interested in going, but...he'd done so eventually anyway. It sounded like utter boredom, but his Coach had told him to go and represent the team. That the Dolphins and Buccaneers were sending players too, and that Jacksonville couldn't be left out. So he went.

That was where he met her.

She was the daughter of a manufacturer from India. Someone with money like grass, the political savvy of a Roman senator and the slipperiness of an eel. While her father was hobnobbing it with all the most important furs from Florida, she had found herself alone by the punch-bowl. She'd still been there when Kalen went for a refill. He remembered he had dropped the six hundred dollar crystal glass from sheer befuddlement at seeing her. She was absolutely beautiful. Her fur was pitch black, and she had the deepest brown eyes he had ever seen. He had never seen an equine that dark before. She really looked like...a piece of midnight had stayed behind at sunrise, to become flesh and blood. Even her mane was raven black. Not blue-black or black'ish with streaks of whatever...

Just...pure black.

Then and there...and for all time...he knew he had found the right girl. And that he would follow her to the ends of the earth if he had to.

Fortunately, he didn't quite have to go that far.

Kalen smiled a little. The memories of his wife were some of the best he had. She had such wisdom and the most amazing sense of humor. She had been a grounding element in his life. There were so many temptations for a young fur with a big NFL contract, but she had kept him from falling into any of the traps presented before him. They had seen each other regularly for two and a half years before he had proposed to her, and she accepted.

His whole family was there...extended as well as biological. Steve had been his best male and Frances, Nadia and Dina had been the bridesmaids. Charles had more or less arranged the whole party on his own. Somehow...the group from that fateful summer had stuck together even as adults.

Nodding slightly at the thought of this, Kalen chuckled to himself. Of course they had. What they had seen and experienced that summer was enough to forge life-long bonds of comradeship, and it had.

And now...he was the last one alive.

Again he sighed. It was part of growing old. Watching old friends pass away. It shouldn't be a part of being young, but it had been for him.

He remembered when his aunt Jean died. It had been so sudden and she had been far too young to go. She had always said she probably wouldn't live to ripe old age because of the ravages she had subjected her body to by taking her medication every single day for decades. He never thought of her...condition...but he knew about it, of course, and he knew she needed to take medicine every day. Eventually, it killed her. Eventually...and very suddenly. She had just gotten a new job. She and Esteban had moved back to Ohio, where she had landed the job as the head of department at the very university where she had studied in her youth.

During a lecture, just a year after she had gone back, she had suddenly blinked twice and stopped mid-sentence. According to the students, she had made a tired sound, blinked again...looked at them all apologetically, and then fallen over.

She'd suffered a massive brain hemorrhage, and she was dead before she hit the floor.

It had been fast and utterly painless...for her. For all those she left behind, the pain had been indescribable. Charlie and Frankie had been catatonic...and friends of the family had set up a suicide watch for Esteban who had been so grief-stricken everyone thought he'd do something foolish. He hadn't...but he had never quite recovered, either. He'd gone old, overnight, and he had retired from working. Steve had done everything in his power to help his adoptive father, going on fishing trips, taking him traveling. Nothing had helped. Charles and Frances had been so devastated they barely knew how to speak of their mother for almost a year, without crying.

Kalen's mothers had both been affected as well. Zig Zag...James...

Kalen smiled a little. As a testament to his aunt's character, almost three hundred furs had turned up for her funeral, and just as many had sent flowers and wreaths. It had been a beautiful thing, even if he'd never seen so many tears shed in his entire life.

Two days later, the first string quarterback had broken his leg in a vicious sack, and Kalen had taken the field. He had played like a fur possessed. Every ball he threw, every paw-off he delivered, every sack he dodged, he'd done for her. The game had ended forty eight to nothing, and Kalen's future had been made.

The next year, he'd been given a gold rimmed contract in Chicago, and he'd moved to the Windy City.

He looked at his right paw and the large ring adorning one of his fingers, reminding of his greatest achievement on the field. He didn't really think much about that anymore. It was so many years ago now, and he had many other, greater achievements to boast of. His family, most importantly.

A couple of large, black birds landed in front of him and looked at him quizzically. He smiled a little and shrugged. "Sorry boys, you're big enough to find your own food. I haven't got any," he said.

The ravens didn't seem too interested in leaving though, but at least they hopped across the field and onto a fence. Kalen smiled crookedly and looked back to the children kicking a ball around. He remembered how he had played ball with his children, and how he had been proud to watch them grow up. He could be proud of his life...

He could look back at many years lived well and to the full.

When he and Vishalya had moved to Cheltenham, they had initially been seen as an oddity. An American and an Indian, settling in the English countryside. The rumormill had started instantly. It had been quite funny, actually, but it had stopped pretty quickly once someone found out that he was a celebrity in the States. When he and his wife had quickly started frequenting the small, local pub, it had further helped their local standing. And when they got involved in various volunteer work, particularly for the children of the area, they had won the last hearts and minds over.

Nowadays, he was greeted as 'Mr. Twain-Ryder' by every child in town, and every adult would tip their hat to him, even if they didn't wear one.

The years in England had been some of the happiest of his life. It had been quiet and calm and he had been able to concentrate on writing his memoirs, and do a bit of painting. He'd been a pretty awful painter, but his memoirs had sold fairly well. He always reckoned a lot of old sports-fans had bought the book. In any case, he'd written it for his own benefit, not for anyone else's really.

Yes.

Life had been good to him.

It was a warm day and it was slowly seeping into his bones and he felt a little sleepy. At least there wasn't a cloud in the sky, so taking a nap while sitting on the bench was perfectly alright. Smiling to himself, he let his head drop to his chest and he dozed off.

He didn't really know how long he slept for, but when he woke up, the children playing soccer had left. The two birds were still there, too, but they took off and flew away when someone came running along the gravel path, close by them. Kalen smiled at this fur, out for a jog. He couldn't remember seeing her in town before. In fact he was sure he hadn't. He and Vishalya had been the only equines in Cheltenham.

Maybe this was a tourist. There were a good few of those every year, renting one of the old cottages, and this was high season after all.

She stopped, right by his bench and stretched her back and legs. He smiled politely at her. She looked very fit...like she did a lot of exercise. Her fur was blonde...

In fact...she reminded him...

Ahh well, he'd been so young then. This really was a day for reminiscing. He dismissed the thought and sat up straight, clearing his throat as he woke up properly from his nap.

The femme looked at him and nodded politely to him.

"I'm sorry, Miss," he said. "I didn't mean to stare. Forgive an old fur...you just look uncannily like someone I knew when I was young."

"Really?" the femme asked, smiling crookedly. "Well, I don't mind. I didn't really think you were staring. Anyway, mind if I join you? It's a nice day and I figured I'd sit and enjoy it a little while."

Kalen shook his head and patted the seat next to him. "Go right ahead, Miss. There's plenty of room. I like these English benches. They're big enough..."

"English benches?"

"Oh, I'm American...although I suppose my accent is long since gone. I've lived here in Cheltenham for many years now."

Smiling again, the other equine sat down. "Really? What made you move here of all places then?"

"I guess I wanted some peace and quiet, really. And it is such a beautiful little spot. Have you been to see the ruins of the Roman villa yet, Miss? It's really something on a summer day like this. Or the hills over in that direction by the pond. It's a great place for fishing...or a picnic."

Laughing softly, the femme shook her head. "I haven't had a chance to see those places yet, I'm afraid. I'm here on official business you see. Work..."

"Ohhh...oh, I see," Kalen said, sympathetically. "You know, it's really uncanny how much you look like the femme I knew. I was so young, though. Just sixteen when she passed away in a tragic accident. I'm ninety one now, so...it's been seventy five years this fall. I hope you don't mind my saying this, it's just really incredible."

The femme shook her head again, softly. She looked ahead, putting her elbows on her knees and folding her paws in front of them as she caught the last of her breath. "Seventy five years, eh? That's a lifetime..."

Nodding, Kalen chuckled. "Several in fact. But I've always tried to remember her. She taught me some very important lessons."

The femme nodded. "Yes..." she said. Her voice had changed slightly. She'd gone hoarse, and she ran a paw down her face, revealing a scar that she had kept hidden by brushing her fur across it. "Yes...I tried to at least."

For a moment, Kalen was surprised. Then he smiled knowingly to himself. "Ahhhh..." he said, "I'm still dreaming, then! I went to sleep here on the bench and now I'm dreaming. That's why the children left."

The femme shook her head. "This is no dream, Kale..." she said and smiled at him. "And I'm no ghost."

Kalen's eyes narrowed...then went wide...then he shook his head slowly. "I...don't understand."

The femme just smiled and looked straight ahead. "Things are not always as they seem at first glance, Kale. You know this to be true...if you search your innermost."

Kalen looked at her for a long moment. There was no denying the physical similarity. In fact it was frightening. But there was no way this could be true. He was an old fur...and he was probably either dreaming or simply imagining things. And yet...it had to be her. Somehow, it just...had to be.

"I guess I do, Coach," he said and smiled crookedly.

"No one's called me that for many, many years," Aslaug said and looked at Kalen again. She took a deep breath and nodded to herself. "Thank you. I kinda missed it."

"You know...my mother once told me...after you died...that she had started practicing saying Kalen Larsen, since she didn't think you'd go for taking your husband's name."

Aslaug laughed. She couldn't help herself. "Somehow, I can believe your mother of all furs saying that," she chuckled.

"There's some truth in it though. I think every kid on that team loved you."

"Maybe. It wasn't my intention."

"Nevertheless..."

"You know, Kale...you always had a lot of love to share with the world. Your wife, your children, your friends...I'm content to know there was a little bit reserved for me as well. I take it as a compliment."

Kalen actually blushed. For a brief moment, he felt like a sixteen year old boy in California again. It was all...too surreal. He was in fact pushing ninety two...not seventeen. And yet, there she was, right as rain, and as alive as that time in Ohio where she told him...that she had nothing more to teach him. Just before he went in and won that game for his High School team.

"I...have to ask..." he said at last, "...how you are here...like this? If this is not a dream, why do you look exactly as the day I last saw you? And how come you are not dead? I attended your funeral! Steve did too!"

Aslaug nodded and got up. "Walk with me a bit," she said and beckoned for Kalen to follow. "I'll explain it all."

Kalen got to his hooves and shrugged his jacket into place. He smiled and followed the coach, finding it quite interesting that he had no trouble keeping up with her. And he was incredibly curious. For a very brief moment, he wondered if someone would jump out from behind a tree, shouting 'SMILE, you're on Candid Uplink!"

It didn't happen.

For some strange reason, it made sense to him that it didn't.

"I know you were at the funeral. I heard you...and Steve...talking to my friends, from inside the coffin. I wanted to make you less sad somehow. I wanted to let you know but...I couldn't. I wasn't allowed to. But those friends of mine that you met that day...they made sure I got the football and I've kept it since. It's one of my most treasured belongings, Kale. It is because you gave it to me, and because I know how much it meant to you."

The last shred of Kalen's doubts vanished. He nodded. Then this really was the Coach. Only she would know of what happened at that funeral. It only made all of this all the more intriguing. Like...an adventure. He had a lot of adventures during his life, but this really was something else.

"I'm glad you were alright. But...why couldn't you tell me?" he asked.

"Kale, I took a flying tumble right across a speeding car, which disintegrated my motorcycle. I got flattened by the engine-block, and there were eyewitnesses. The kids in the car got themselves killed by drinking and driving, but there were some furs nearby, working on the road. How do you think it would have looked for me to get up and say 'hey, I'm alright'...?"

Kalen chuckled. "Ahh, I can see that. But still, that doesn't explain how you did survive, nor how you still look so young...?"

"I can't die, Kalen. I'm not...mortal."

"Go ahead, pull the other one...it's got bells on it."

"I'm serious..."

Kalen blinked. Then he nodded. It made no sense, and yet it was the only thing that made sense. He sighed a little, still smiling. "It's good to see you, Coach. Even if I wish I'd been younger. I would've liked for you to meet my wife. She was a wonderful femme..."

Aslaug smiled crookedly. A rather enigmatic look played across her features. She was about to speak when Kalen suddenly seemed to remember something.

"My cane!" he said, snapping his fingers. "I have to go back and get my cane. Goodness me, it's amazing I haven't fallen over y..."

He stopped, having turned halfway around. Aslaug had put an arm around his shoulders, very gently, shaking her head. She smiled softly and turned him back in the direction they were walking.

"You don't need your cane anymore, Kale..." she said.

There was something in her voice that made everything fall into place in Kalen's mind. He nodded, sighing a little. "I see..." he said.

"I knew you would. You were always smarter than average. The best kid I ever coached. Maybe the best player but...definitely the best kid," Aslaug said and gave his shoulder a squeeze. "That's why I'm here. I asked...to be allowed to get you."

"So you're an angel, then?" Kalen asked, slightly incredulously. Somehow that didn't really fit his mental image of the coach.

Laughing, she shook her head. "Had you been any other fur, I'd have punched your lights out for that one. No...not an angel. I just collect the worthy dead, and try to help a few furs find their way along the way."

Another little piece of information fell into place in Kalen's head and he nodded. "So that's why you coached our team. You were..."

"...waiting for Steve. Yes. He was the whole reason I was there, all along. I'm glad he chose to take the help I could offer."

"You saved his life, Coach...probably quite literally."

"No. He did. I just...nudged him off the path he was on. He had to choose which one to go on instead. Fortunately, he went down a really good one. You helped him. Probably more than you think. Probably more than he ever realized."

"So did the others," Kalen said, firmly. "I'm not a hero, Coach. I never was."

She smiled again, sticking her paws in her pockets. "And that is exactly why you are. If you hadn't been...I wouldn't have been here to get you. You don't have to earn medals in wartime or die gloriously in battle to be a hero. Sometimes, the greatest heroes are those who know how to avoid ever fighting at all."

"Well, you did teach me that Football was a bit like tribal warfare."

"It is. But it's not life-or-death, despite what some fans might think. It's just a sport and at the end of the day, it doesn't really matter compared to bigger and more important issues in life. You always understood that. Even with that ring on your finger, you never forgot the important things..."

Kalen looked at his Super Bowl ring. So few furs in history had won one...even with the many super bowls that had now been played. He was incredibly...almost unfathomably fortunate to have been one of them. Steve had never won one...although by Kalen's estimate, he deserved it more than anyone else.

"It's just a piece of bling. A big piece of bling but...it doesn't make me who I am...was...you know what I mean. It doesn't define me, Coach. My actions defined who I was in life," he said, shrugging. He felt better than he had for a long time, and that was saying something. He hadn't thought his health was failing at all. He'd felt healthy and hale right up to the end.

He felt...young again.

Aslaug nodded, smiling and looking skywards. The two birds were circling. "Yeah yeah...I found him. You two can bugger off. I'm going to take as long as I want before we leave!" she said.

The ravens circled a few times and flew away with loud, annoyed caws. Kalen smiled a bit. "I never...really believed in any gods or goddesses, you know?"

"I know. But that's not what matters. What matters is whether you lived a good life...did the right things for the right reasons. Whether you chose to be a good fur, because it was the right thing to do, not because some deity or other would punish you otherwise," the blonde valkyrie said. She stopped and looked at Kalen again for a long moment. "You know...I was there when you won that ring. I was watching from the stands. I never doubted you'd win."

"Everyone else did," Kalen said and smiled a bit. He'd led his team...twenty one point underdogs...to victory against all the odds. "You were there?"

"I was. I was proud of you...I still am for that matter. And not just for that victory."

"I did okay then...?"

Aslaug began walking again and Kalen easily caught up to her. The village of Cheltenham was completely empty. It was a little strange, but Kalen figured it was just part of being dead. Somehow, he didn't think it would stay empty...or that he would stay there.

"Let me ask you three simple questions," Aslaug said. "And I want you to be honest with me...and with yourself."

"Sure. Ask away..." Kalen said.

"Firstly...did you live honorably?" she asked, turning a corner and heading up the road towards Kalen's home.

Kalen noticed this but still followed, nodding. "I tried to. I made mistakes...everyone makes mistakes, but I tried to. I tried to remember what Aunt Jean taught me...and Uncle Esteban...and my father and mothers. And you. All the good furs that brought me up to be someone decent. I tried to lead the best life I could and do right by others."

Aslaug nodded. "That's good enough for me at least, not that I'm here to judge you or anything of the sort. Next question then. Were you worth knowing?"

Again, Kalen nodded. "I should like to think so. I wanted to be a good friend to my friends. And I've been in this world long enough to understand the truth of the adage that you get further with a smile than a harsh word."

"Some would say a smile and a harsh word would get you farthest, though," Aslaug said with a crooked smile that so reminded Kalen of his youth on the training field in San Francisco that he could almost smell the grass there.

He still shook his head. "Not me. I don't bother with the harsh words except to those who honestly deserved them...and then I don't pull punches."

Aslaug smiled and stopped again, looking at him. "Good. Then the final question I have to ask you is...did you make a positive difference. And I just ask you because these are the rules I used to go by myself...and I'm not even going to wait for an answer. You saved several lives so yes...you did make a positive difference. A huge one, for a lot of furs. And you know what that means?"

Kalen shook his head, blushing again. "No...what does that mean?"

"It means you were a good fur in life, Kalen. At least by my reckoning and that's the only reckoning I can go by. You did good for yourself...but I think you already knew that."

"Yeah...I did, I think. You know, I worry about leaving my body behind like that. What if some of the children find me? I don't want them to have to find an old, dead fur on a bench you know."

Aslaug shook her head. "Don't worry. You'll be found by someone who can take it and who will know what to do. And even if not...there's nothing you can do about it anymore. But it's been...taken care of. A lot of things have."

"Things...?"

"Yeah...like your kahts. Seems...someone forgot to close the back door this morning. Which is good, or they might have starved to death before someone remembered them."

"Thanks Coach..."

"You're welcome."

They walked quietly for a little while. Kalen realized he saw everything more clearly than he had for a long time. Cheltenham really looked beautiful in summer...but it would've been nicer if there had been a bit of life in the scene. No cars, no birds...apart from the two ravens that Kalen by now realized were probably not...quite mortal either. No furs of any kind.

It was a little eerie.

"What...happens now, though?" he asked as they walked past the old pub. For a brief moment, Kalen thought he could hear music. Then it was gone.

Aslaug pointed towards the small ridge, across which lay the Roman villa. "I want to see the ruins of the villa..."

"No, no I mean with me? What happens to me now? I'm dead, so...what then?"

"Ohh...don't worry. I'm sure you'll like it."

Kalen raised an eyebrow...and then pondered for a moment the fact that strictly speaking, he didn't even have eyebrows anymore. Still, it felt as if he raised an eyebrow. He sighed...but didn't breathe. In fact, being dead wasn't too unlike being alive, except he felt much better. No little crimps and aches, no pain in his knee, no stiff elbow...

"I know what's going through your mind right now," Aslaug said, without turning around, "You might want to look at yourself..."

She pointed to a window with a reflective surface, and Kalen turned his gaze towards it.

He didn't just feel young. He LOOKED young. He nearly fell over from surprise. He looked like...like he'd done in his twenties. A big, strong, good looking stallion, with a good build and great muscle tone. His jaw dropped...

"Bu...I...whu..."

"That's the age you were at the happiest moment of your life. Can you guess what it was?"

"I've had so many happy moments, Coach...so many happy memories..."

"And for that very reason...beyond mere wealth, Kalen, you were truly a rich fur."

Kalen nodded. "This...is how I looked when I first held my first born child in my arms," he said. "And I've so often thought how unfair that was because I loved my children equally..."

Aslaug grinned and shook her head. "There's nothing wrong with feeling that way. When your first child was born, you hadn't tried that feeling before. It wasn't any less strong the second time, if I am to venture a guess...but it was a feeling you knew and that made it less overwhelming."

Kalen nodded again, frowning as he thought that over. "Yes...you're right. That's exactly it. How did you know?"

"A lot of dead furs share that sentiment, Kale...you're not the first fur I've picked up, believe me..." Aslaug said and walked past the last house and started up the gravel road towards the ruins.

Kalen didn't speak for a while again, and nor did the blonde femme. They just walked together, in silence. Kalen enjoyed not getting tired from this walk anymore. The last few years, it had been too tiring for him to walk that stretch more than once a week or so. He was starting to realize that no matter how spry and healthy he had felt...he had in fact been old and frail. And that this really was his time.

"But again, what will happen to me now?" he asked as they approached the top of the ridge. They'd be able to see the ruins soon.

Aslaug didn't answer until she was actually at the top of the ridge. She looked at the ruins and shook her head in slight disappointment. "You know, they said the Romans were a high culture, and that the Norsefurs weren't...but their buildings are still in ruins..."

Chuckling, Kalen nodded. "I guess that's true. They did conquer half the known world though."

"So did we," the valkyrie commented.

Kalen knew it was pointless to argue. Instead, he smiled. "You're still not telling me what I'm supposed to do now..."

"Supposed to do? Oh, nothing really. No one expects much of you when you're dead...it's one of the major perks, I'm told."

"That's humor, Coach...if I wasn't dead already, I'd have a heart-attack!"

"Very funny, Kale...I'm tempted to tell you to drop and give me twenty. And that cheeky grin of yours isn't helping your case!"

Smiling, Kalen sat down on the grass. "So you're telling me I can do anything I want...with myself? Since there's no one else around, that is...?"

"Who said there is no one else around? Not me, at least!"

Kalen smiled a little. "So where are they all...?"

Aslaug stuck her paws in her pockets again. "Counting on me to keep you occupied while they get the party set up."

"...party...?"

"Yeah. Your wife was pretty insistent. She wanted to make sure it was ready when you arrive."

"V...Visha is there? My wife...?"

"And your friends. Your dad...your mothers. Everyone you've ever cared about, Kale. Steve, Nadia, Dina...they're all there...and they're all waiting for you. They just...wanted to make it special for you when you got there. Steve's been complaining that you always had to outdo him."

"He got to the Hall of Fame, Coach...I didn't."

"You will...next year. I have it from an absolutely reliable source."

Kalen blinked. "Erh...well...he still got there first. And well deserved. He built a whole team around him. I was just part of a bigger whole."

"You always were, Kalen Twain-Ryder. That's what made you special. Now...I don't think I've got a right to keep you any longer. Have...the very best of times. I'll come visit, now and again...as time allows," Aslaug said and turned around, running a paw down Kalen's forehead. He felt faint for a moment...then faded.

Aslaug stood there a while, watching the space in nothingness that her old protégé had occupied until a moment earlier.

"You always were special," she said, quietly.

The world came back into full focus around her and she stretched a little.

A child with a soccerball came around the corner.

"Oh...sorry Miss, didn't know someone was up here. We figured we'd go here to play. Less chance of hitting a window here than in between the houses," the young boy said.

Aslaug smiled a little. "It's alright...I was just leaving, kid."

As she walked away...she was smiling. It was a beautiful day in England...a place she hadn't visited for over a thousand years, and never before with peaceful intentions. She felt good. She stretched a little and rolled her head on her shoulders.

Kalen was in a better place now. Happy and content. She knew what it felt like to watch those she loved and cared for grow old and die...and she knew the pain that came with it. And because of that, she didn't smile often anymore. But at that moment, she did.

Walking back into Cheltenham, she knew that she could go home at last.

She knew her work was finally complete.