Like all inhabitants in the Land of Dalembrine, the Maker created Foulkes to serve a single purpose, to play his role in bringing harmony for all. But in crafting Foulkes, the Maker proved to own a sense of humour. How could a discordant note fit into the symphony of life?

A twist upon a familiar nursery rhyme.

Heads up, I don't really recommend reading this story, as it doesn't really work. There is too much of the workings of the world that existed in my head, which I thought would be easy to figure out. Probably should remove it, but I posted and will keep it as a reminder.

A person's nature mattered.

So the Maker decreed.

Thus the Maker's first children, the Fairies, ensured. For into their hands, the Maker entrusted newborns, allowing them to divine a child's nature. Knowledge they used to raise and educate, before freeing each into the world. Even then, the Fairies continued to watch over their charges, ready to provide guidance towards any who mistakenly strayed, ready to punish those who did so intentionally.

Only in a warren did the Fairies allow people to pretend they could be something different. Found only in cities, a warren provided all forms of entertainment, chance, and fantasy. There the shape of one's ears did not matter.

Until pretend stretched too far.

One such unfortunate victim of pretend was Dorsey McNut. A mouse of a man, his skills in the field made him one of the worlds pre-eminent farmers and brought him to the capital of Galdone for the yearly crop congress. While there, he could not help but visit the city's warren where he first became enraptured by its lovely bunnies, then captured by the tables of chance. Unfortunately, he won. Gambling fever pulled him back each night. And when his funds increased, Dorsey found his way into the Dancing Dice, the most expensive den in the warren.

Her laugh drew his eyes to the second floor. She stood amongst her sisters, exceptional within a sea of perfection, but only for a moment before she glided out of sight. Dumbfounded, he turned towards the dealer. Before Dorsey could question, the man spoke. "Don't even think about it."

"But..."

"You barely have enough for a stake at the Dancing Dice, little alone access to the second floor."

"How much?"

At the question, the dealer's wolfish ears lowered as he laughed out an answer. "You'll need five or six times the chips you're showing to get upstairs. But even if you make it, that bunny will never be yours."

The Dorsey McNut who arrived in Galdone would have taken the advice; however, that Dorsey McNut had never been a winner. Temptation now seemed tinged with possibility and each time he returned to the den he hoped to catch another glimpse of the crimson haired bunny. Dared to dream of more than sight. A dream that consumed all waking hours, distracting him even while at the congress. This lack of focus brought him to the Fairies' attention. Once they discovered the cause, they saw to it that his luck at the tables diminished. And after each loss the laughter on the second floor grew more distant.

With temptation dampened, focus appeared restored. But on the last night of the congress, Dorsey once more found himself at the Dancing Dice, attempting to build a stake worthy of the second floor. Soon he discovered luck completely gone.

Overwhelmed by despair, he mumbled the need for a break and stumbled from the building into the fresh air. Outside, he reminded himself that he was a farmer, a mouse. He told himself to leave the city, to go back to his fields. So he fled, ignoring his few remaining chips stacked on the table inside. Almost he escaped, but just as he neared the edge of the warren, Dorsey spotted the Spinning Chip. There Dorsey first tasted victory.

Unthinking footsteps veered from flight and led him inside to the cashier's cage, where he reached into his purse. Yet the only thing he found was the elaborate gold and red card from the Dancing Dice.

"Do you wish to open an account, Sir?" The cashier asked.

"Umm...I don't have any coin with me."

"If you pass me your card from the Dancing Dice, Sir, that will serve."

Mouse suddenly became cunning fox. Could he get away with it? Could he chance it? Would they truly not know that the card was now worth nothing? Tempting fate, Dorsey handed over his card and soon sat at a table, placing bets.

Birthright mattered, he was not a fox. His luck was needed in the fields, not at the tables. The Fairies decided to end the matter and whisked him away, returning him to his farm on Tunker Plains.

But not before he doubled his night's losses.

~o~O~o~

The knock on his bedroom door brought Foulkes awake; however, despite the door banging immediately open, he did not open his eyes to see who appeared. Only one person had the courtesy to knock but not the patience to wait for an answer.

"What do you want, Leon?"

"Fenris wants to see us."

"What about?"

"Wake up, Fou Fou. What's everybody been talking about all week? The mouse."

"Did they find him?"

"That's my guess."

"I need to get dressed."

"No hurry, you should have time to get ready. Oh and hey Sharla, Gus is looking for you too."

"Morning, Leon. And what does he want?" The blonde beside Foulkes asked.

"Some mucky-mucks are coming in and want you to deal."

"Tell Gus I'll be down in a bit."

"Need help getting ready, Sharla?"

"Go away, Leon."

"How about letting me watch?"

Foulkes answered for both. "Go away, Leon."

As the door swung shut behind their large friend, Sharla tossed aside the covers and jumped out of bed to find her robe. Even after she slipped into its silky embrace, Foulkes understood his partner's desire to watch. From her pink painted toes to the tips of her long, perky ears Sharla personified everything that made a bunny desirable.

Kneeling on the bed, she bent over to rub noses with Foulkes and said, "Thanks, Sweetie, but I'm guessing no repeat tonight. If mucky-mucks are who I suspect, I'll probably also be the winner's prize."

Even if the bunny kiss had not turned him into a mass of quivering goo unable to pay attention to her words, Foulkes would have felt no surprise at her statement. Nor anger at the pride and enthusiasm with which Sharla had spoken. He understood her nature, he knew the training undergone and the dreams dreamt by a her growing up in the Fortress of the Maker. After all, his ears were shaped the same as hers, he had sat in the same classes, and had dreamed the same dreams. True, his pretty masculinity made him somewhat rare amongst his sisters, but he understood that bunnies offered pleasure.

And when he ventured into the world, Foulkes felt the same excitement heard in Sharla's voice. Excitement that persisted as he climbed the stairs of a small inn, holding the hand of his first companion. A meek field mouse with exotic tastes lurking within his humble exterior.

Inside Foulkes' room, passion progressed in the delicious manner each desired until things went wrong. Suddenly the mouse lay unconscious on the floor, Foulkes' knuckles felt bruised, and a Fairy had appeared. After scolding him for punching the mouse in the head, she teleported him back to the Fortress and attempted to determine what went wrong. After learning his violent reaction surprised him as much as them, they further questioned, finding a period of doubt in his past.

It started after he and his age mates left their childhood nursery for the halls in which they would learn their life's work. For bunnies such as Foulkes, this meant the West Wing of the Halls of Pleasure, where his long ears sprouted. Covered in soft, red fur, they proved wonderfully sensitive whenever caressed, a pastime in which all willingly partook. However, nothing else sprouted, particularly not the curves that filled his sister's dresses. Initially, he only felt envy, but then he wondered if he truly could be a bunny, would he be better off as an otter, their seldom seen male dominated counterparts in the East Wing?

In time, both envy and doubt passed, neither able to compete with the unwavering belief of his sisters that he belonged with them. Yet this period offered the only hint as to what went wrong and the Fairies needed a solution. Fortunately they assigned no guilt to Foulkes' actions. Instead they seemed more interested in proving the Maker's, and by extension their own, infallibility.

Rolling out of bed Foulkes saw their solution in his mirror on the wall. All the curves he once missed were now abundantly on display. Ignoring his red hair and what made him rare, he could almost serve as Sharla's mirror.

Hard to doubt his nature now.

~o~O~o~

Rarely did the world fail to amuse Leon. For that reason, rather than accepted doctrine, he appreciated the Maker, who played the most excellent jokes upon his people. Like the one told over the last few days. Who would imagine a mouse having the temerity to steal from the pack who ran the capital's warren. Based on what he heard through the door Fenris' office, not the pack. Yet their surprise did not stop their leader from pinning pointed ears to their heads

Almost enough to make a cat laugh. He would too, if they were not friends. Better to hold laughter until it could be shared without burning so hot. Besides laughing might draw Fenris' attention. A prospect that did not frighten Leon, who enjoyed bumping heads with the boss, but would upset his partner.

His partner?

Definitely the Maker's best joke, even if he bore the brunt of it himself. How the heck did he end up with a friggen bunny as a partner? Almost impossible to act the tough guy with her at his side. And despite protests, Leon saw his partner as a her, which explained why the loner accepted her presence. Worse companions existed than a gorgeous redhead, who smelled good, and laughed at his jokes. If only he wasn't always waiting for her to get dressed.

The click of approaching heels signaled the end of his current wait. Leaning against the wall, Leon shook his head when she came into view. He asked, "Really, Fou Fou? Really?"

"Don't you like?"

"I love. But Fenris is in a sour mood?"

"Since he's acting all big and bad, I decided to just show him my throat."

Leon grinned, partially in response to the impish smile, but mostly in appreciation. Wearing a strapless, knee-length corset dress of emerald leather, Foulkes showed a lot more than his throat.

"Well, pull up a spot on the wall, Fou Fou. We'll find out if you chose right after Fenris finishes yelling at his boys."

In the tight dress, he could not emulate Leon's casual lean, so Foulkes satisfied himself with standing beside the big cat. With no conversation between the two, he could hear Fenris' constant growl. Unlike his partner, he did not react with amusement. His long ears drooped, framing a face where normally smiling lips turned into a sad pout. Slowly he edged closer to the big man, unconsciously seeking protection. By the time Tony, Fenris' right hand, escorted three chastened wolves from the office, barely a whisker separated the partners.

"The boss wants to speak to you two now."

Much of the anger in Fenris' eyes seeped away as his gaze roamed over Foulkes form, then as it settled somewhere around the offered throat, he said, "If you can, take a seat, Fou Fou."

"How about me?"

"You can stand, Leon." Fenris said, not looking away as the bunny tentatively sunk into a sitting position at the edge of the chair on the other side of his desk. Offering a silent clap in congratulations, he said, "Don't get too comfortable, the two of you will be visiting someone for me."

Leon asked, "The mouse who ripped us off?"

"Dorsey McNut," Tony said, interrupting before the comment set Fenris off again. "He took us for five big ones. We want to get it back."

"Where do we find him?"

"He farms on the Tunker Plains, near the city of Lestor."

"That's days away. Why can't it be someone else?" Foulkes asked.

Fenris answered, "Well it's your fault, Fou Fou."

"Me? What did I do?"

"Skeeter said that every time the mouse came in, he asked about you."

"That's not my fault."

Leon laughed and said, "But I bet it warms your heart."

His partner understood too many of his secrets. Not that Foulkes disguised that he liked men to look. But maybe he shouldn't have told Leon that during his second attempt at duty proved no more successful than the first. Nor should he have explained what happened after he lost it and bopped the mouse on the head. Confused, but sure they knew best for Foulkes, the Fairies ensured he savoured the attention paid to him by men. They probably went too far. The pleasure he now received from stares like Fenris' felt almost physical, creating an addiction he constantly sought to satisfy.

Yet he couldn't admit that Leon was right.

"If you were a good partner, you would help me stand. Then I could get ready for our trip."

~o~O~o~

When the long trip to Lestor finally came to an end, Foulkes struggled to contain his glee. Eight days on the road, much of it inside the stale and dusty interiors of public coaches as they made their way South, left him feeling grimy and unattractive despite the attention paid to him by a myriad of fellow passengers. Passengers that rarely included Leon. The cat preferred to sit with the driver, appearing only when the coach stopped to rescue his partner from the amorous hopes of the other travelers.

With the most recent of those chased away, the two turned towards a waiting group of wolves, whose leader said, "I'm Lobo. If you're the Beauty and the Beast, I`m here to help."

Leon answered, "We are, but Fou Fou doesn't like people to call her the Beast."

"Him." Foulkes corrected. "And the only help I want is directions to a bath."

Lobo proved good to his word, escorting the pair to his large den. Foregoing food, Foulkes wallowed in a bathtub before turning his attention to any imperfection, real or imagined. Only when satisfied with his appearance did he wonder about Leon. Deciding to find him, he wrapped himself in a short robe and headed for their room.

However, before reaching the room he ran into another reminder of why he hated to travel away from Galdone. From the direction in which he traveled came a blond bunny, with more than a passing resemblance to Sharla, wearing a robe similar to his, a satisfied flush, and the scent of love making. So unfair that his 'disguise' precluded his own dalliance, but she and others would question why a bunny would seek another's embrace while traveling with Leon.

If only Leon was as circumspect. Entering their room, Foulkes saw the big cat lying in bed, muscular chest uncovered, hands behind his head, and a smile on his face. The reason for smile seemed obvious, for the scent from the blond bunny proved stronger here. A protest sprung to his lips. "Leoooon."

"It's been days, Fou Fou. All that time with your flirty self."

"I wasn't flirting."

"Fou Fou, you can't help it. I'd say I'm sorry, but Glinda was amazing."

This highlighted the problem with having a cat for a partner. No matter how handsome, masculine smelling, and funny, cats liked to amuse themselves. And this cat often did so at his partner's expense. So when his small growl did nothing to quell Leon's smirk, Foulkes took some nightwear from a chest and ducked behind a privacy screen.

Laughing, because Foulkes never used any other screen during their trip, Leon asked, "Want to hear what Lobo said?"

"Sure."

"Fenris' informants are right, it appears this Dorsey lives in a farming commune just outside of town. Better yet, instead of being just one of the hands, he actually runs it."

"Then he may have the means to actually pay us back?"

"Yep. Nor does he seem to suspect anything. Lobo discovered he's a creature of routines, none of which has changed since his return."

"People always think they only have to worry about the Fairies."

"Stupid, isn't it? Why would the Maker create predators not true to their nature?"

"But it's good, that way they don't run. I bet it's hard to chase someone down while wearing skirts."

"The bait shouldn't have to run." Leon said, just before Foulkes stepped from behind the screen. "Specially the tastiest cheese I know."

"Get on your side of the bed."

"Why, we'll just end up snuggled together at some point."

Unable to dispute this, Foulkes climbed into bed, staying as far from the cat as possible while not falling out. But even this distance did little to quell the torture of Leon's scent or warmth. He wanted Leon, would have wanted him even before his third failed encounter with a mouse, and before the Fairies got their hands on him one more time. Now, with their magnification of his desires, Foulkes could not hold back a whimper of frustration

Hearing this, Leon reached out to pull the bunny into an embrace. Placing a kiss on the top of Foulkes' head, right between two drooping ears, he said, "I'm sorry, Fou Fou."

The apology did not satisfy Foulkes' urges, but it did suffuse his body with happiness.

~o~O~o~

It takes careful planning for coincidence to appear natural; therefore, not until two afternoon later did Foulkes find himself walking along a road towards Lestor. All alone, except for the fine boned mare whose reins he held, he hoped to run into Dorsey who, at this time of day, normally traveled between two fields in which his fellows laboured. The conspirators hoped the mouse's attraction to pretty redheads would apply to one in distress and that he would not recognize Foulkes as his bunny on the second floor.

In this they relied on Foulkes' skills at managing his appearance. He realized that if the man saw him on the second floor, he would have seen him at his glammed up best. Thus he appeared the fresh faced cutie in the dark brown riding habit, ears perkily sticking through a wide brimmed hat and twin, beribboned braids hanging below.

Spotting an approaching figure, one he recognized as their mark, Foulkes put his skills to the test. Waving his free arm to grab attention that needed no grabbing, he shouted, "Hello. Please, can you help me?"

Wide eyed, in admiration not recognition, the walker hurried forward and asked, "What's the problem, Miss?"

"I'm on my way to Lestor, but my horse lost a shoe. Is there blacksmith near?"

"Umm...we have one in our commune, he can help."

"Are you sure?"

"Well I run the commune, just tell him Dorsey told him to do it."

"Oooh, I didn't know you were so important, sorry for interrupting you."

"No, don't worry, it's okay. I'm happy to help. Here I'll give you directions."

As he did, Foulkes stared at him with uncomprehending concentration, before repeating a mangled version of the directions back to the man. After two more failed attempts and the summoning of tears in his eyes, he said, "I'm so sorry, I'm just horrid with directions. I had a guide, but he got sick last night. Before I left, this morning, he said that following this road would lead me to Galdone. Don't worry, I'll be okay...but...but...I'm sorry."

As duty fought a losing battle, Dorsey said, "Maybe it's best if I guide you?"

"You will? Oh thank you, thank you, thank you." Foulkes shouted, dropping the reins and throwing himself at the man. With arms wrapped around Dorsey, Foulkes looked upwards, peaking out from beneath the brim of his hat, and said, "I didn't expect such a powerful man to be so kind. But I'm sure you're busy, maybe I can find the way on my own?"

The battle had never been in doubt, but now with even duty chanting 'take her', Dorsey assured he could spare the time. Soon he held the reins of the mare in one hand, with the bunny holding the other. So distracted, neither looked behind to see the horseman who followed.

Reaching the commune, Dorsey showed off his power by commanding the ox of a blacksmith to look after the horse. Finished, he invited Sharla, the first alias to come to Foulkes' mind in case Skeeter had told the mouse his real name, back to his home for tea. An offer eagerly accepted.

As the cabin door closed behind them, Dorsey showed that not all the bravado that imbued his spirit on the last night in Galdone had abandoned him. With a strength, which would surprise many who did not know mice, he grabbed hold of Foulkes' tiny waist and kissed the bunny. Momentary surprise turned into reciprocation, as Foulkes wrapped his arms around the man's neck and swirled his own tongue around the one offered.

Horny and curious about how far they could get, Foulkes unhooked the buttons of his coat, shrugged out of it, and allowed Dorsey's nimble fingers to attack the numerous buttons down the back of his blouse. Wiggling out of his skirt, he almost strangled Dorsey in his eagerness to remove the other's shirt. Suddenly the man took things too far, burying his face in the tempting valley offered by Foulkes' corset.

No Fairy came this time. None had appeared since the fourth time he beat up a mouse, and then only to tell him they no longer saw him as a bunny. They now realized that the Maker made Foulkes a goon.

Still he did not remain alone, instead Foulkes opened the door and let Leon enter. The cat whistled at his partner, fetchingly attired in boots, lingerie, and his girlie hat. He lifted Dorsey onto one of the chairs at the table before gagging him and tying him in place.

~o~O~o~

Dorsey proved slow to come to his senses. As he did, the first thing to come to his attention was a pounding headache. The second was a weight on his lap. Opening his eyes he saw the temptress who led him to this misfortune and now he realized, his misfortune in Galdone. About to angrily react, he realized he was bound and gagged. Then he noticed the large man.

As the fear appeared in the mouse's eyes, Foulkes reached out a finger to caress the unbruised cheek. "I'm sorry, Dorsey. As much as I wish that the two of us could have spent the rest of the day doing naughty things to each other, and I really really do wish that, it's not in my nature. For some reason the Maker made me a wolf in bunny's clothing."

With apology offered, Foulkes wiggled his bottom in recognition of Dorsey's confused response to this information, then rose to once again dress in his riding habit. The show over, he said, "Now I'll see if your blacksmith is finished. In the meantime, my friend Leon wishes to speak to you about something bad you did in Galdone."

A half glass later, with newly shod horse in tow, Foulkes returned to the cabin. There he saw Leon placing his recently used bindings into a saddlebag. He asked, "You didn't need to hurt him, did you?"

"Naw, you restored his natural timidness."

Happy to hear that, for despite his nature he did not like people to be hurt, Foulkes found his eyes fixed upon the saddlebag. Only when he felt Leon's hands take hold of his waist, in order to lift him onto the mare, did he speak. "Maybe if you tied me up?"

The cat did not answer, but he did hold his partner at eye height before him. Feeling Leon's questioning gaze, Foulkes leaned forward to rub his button nose against the man's larger one. This caused a smile to spread over both of their faces and Leon to sit his luscious bunny upon her saddle.

Waiting until she hooked a skirted leg safely in place, he sauntered towards his own horse. Mounted and whistling a happy tune he galloped out of the commune, an eager Foulkes at his side.

After all, how a person is nurtured also matters.