I am Chien. She is Bichon.
“Rrrr,” We follow the Voice of Dog; VOX CANINA, the bright shining Voice of Dog, according to the Canon of Dog.
She, Bichon, had eschewed the chateau of Landlord Berlaimont. I, Chien, had abstained the abbey of Monk Brabant.
Thus we together had seceded into a mythical journey to find an existence apart from nobles and monks.
So, help us Dog.
Never again, now with those charcoal dungeons of rottenness and corruption behind us, never again to suffer such hypocrisy, we wagged away our promises toward the regions of the Beauce, between the Seine and the Loire rivers.
And so, by the fetters of fortune, under the dissolution of last daylight in leafy forest, beside a humming creek we encountered the Red Deer Stag named Châlons, renowned, illustrious.
Châlons approached us to contend with us, challenging steadily, firmly, “Are you a Hunt?”
We saw that Châlons was lame and limping.
I, courteously, in a kindly, friendly manner, proclaimed, “Sieur Châlons, Scourge of the Hunt, the reputation of your battle plunging headfirst with the great Cimmerian Wolf, Bâfrer Loup, such fame had reached the castle of Landlord Berlaimont and the abbey of Monk Brabant…”
Châlons gave ground to us, humbly, saddened and inflicted, “I am now only food for men and animals.”
Bichon offered, “We seek an existence apart from nobles and monks. Come with us to an existence apart also from the Hunt and from Cimmerian Wolves.”
Châlons replied, “I am wounded. I need rest.”
I said, “Let Bichon and me offer you our devoted protection during your recovery and resumption.”
Bichon added, “To the bargain, we need benefit from your cognisance of this foreign forest.”
Châlons asked suspiciously, “Are you not dogs? Are you not accessories to the Hunt?”
Bichon and I recited, “So help us VOX CANINA the Voice of Dog, the Canon of Dog teaches us Justice, Fairness, and Equity, eternal, everlasting, without end.”
Obliged to draw together thus, we did bind our Alliance on that account.
Bichon said, “We meet in fortune, Châlons. You are a good heart.”
Châlons agreed humorously, “You two are lucky dogs.”
I smiled with irony, “In ancient times, ‘the dog’ was the worst throw in dice.”
As the world from all sides grew blind, the specters of our ears and the phantoms of our noses leaped and danced free from the tyranny of our eyes.
Châlons bent his ears suddenly to the whisper of sinister scratches.
Of the great Cimmerian Wolf, Bâfrer Loup, Châlons heard memories shriek.
Bichon and I arose alerted.
Of the great Cimmerian Wolf, Bâfrer Loup, we inhaled intent of murder, for we are cousins, wolves and dogs.
Bâfrer Loup pounced, “Your time left on earth is but a breath!”
Bâfrer Loup arrived at the throat of Châlons.
Bichon flew to the shoulder of Bâfrer Loup and bit.
Bâfrer Loup released the torn Châlons. He threw Bichon off and took her neck into his dagger jaws.
I tore at his belly.
Bâfrer Loup dropped Bichon’s limp body and snarled for my head, gnashing my skull.
Châlons drove his antlers into him and collapsed.
Bâfrer Loup rolled over, mortally impaled with Justice.
The four of us were fallen in Equity.
Only I moved, and I crawled to Bichon.
I laid my head upon her and I licked her blood.
I cried into Oblivion, eternal, everlasting, without end.
Châlons bore blind witness:
In Fairness, we have now arrived at an existence apart from nobles and monks, and apart from the Hunt and from Cimmerian Wolves.