VAUGHN
"I don't understand," says Queen Saar.
She pauses in her tracks and looks down condescendingly at us, as if we're an assembly of morons.
We are gathered at the Fox Cone, a large hall with mighty pillars here and there. It has a set of double doors on one end and the queen's throne at the other. Between both ends is a space capable of holding over a hundred people combined.
But we're just currently about twenty in number, a selected group of the most important foxes in the realm, from fox lords to members of Senate and key royalty like me.
"This isn't supposed to happen," says the queen. "That werewolf isn't meant to shapeshift. Not while I am here."
My mother had initially been sitting on her throne addressing us, but she soon grew mad, abandoned her seat and floated down like
