Chapter Text
I have no doubt she knew and experienced first-hand the extreme prejudice against foxes.
But I wonder…
I wonder how she felt when little Nicholas asked her for a Junior Ranger uniform because he wanted to become a member.
I wonder if she tried explaining what might happen to her young, enthusiastic cub.
I wonder how in turmoil her mind must had been as she scrounged up enough cash to buy the materials to create the uniform. She probably didn’t have enough money to pay a tailor to make one, so she would have made the uniform herself.
I wonder how much tears fell onto the uniform she was sewing for young Nicholas.
I wonder what crossed her mind that day when little Nicky proudly stood in front of the mirror. Did she smile sadly, hoping for the best, but silently preparing for the worst?
I wonder what she said to little Nicky as he ran back home, dried tears still visible on his fur. She would’ve hugged her son tightly, wrapping her tail around the traumatized cub to comfort him.
I wonder how she would answer her son’s question of “Why mom? What have I done? Am I such a bad boy, the Junior Rangers don’t want me? Am I the reason dad left us?”
I wonder what she felt as she watched her son grow up with a hardened heart. Cynical and pessimistic of society. Never wanting a permanent job because, “They would never want me. I’m a fox after all.” Even if throughout his studies, he had been a straight A student, and even managed to secure a Bachelor’s degree.
I wonder if she felt sad that Nick decided to involve himself with the “less savory” members of society, even managed to tangle himself in an altercation with a mob boss.
I wonder if she sometimes look out of her apartment’s windows during a stormy night, all alone since her son left, wondering if her sweet Nicholas is well and dry out there.
I wonder if she still kept that Junior Ranger uniform in her closet. Looking forward to the day that her grandkit, or great-grandkit, or great-great-grandkit, can wear it without prejudice anymore…