The next morning was a frenzy as Horatio, Phigaro and Reiach were working furiously to complete all the food by the appointed time. Bertha was giving commands, fixed food, and made corrections along the way. Horatio was working the grits with a spoon in his beak, as Phigaro whipped up the batter for the cornbread. Reiach prepared the fire making sure it was the right temperature for cooking. Upstairs in the main hall, stools and tables were put into place to prepare for the morning feast. Casey was playing a lute watching all the work. When asked if he would like to join in with the labor, he frankly said that playing the lute was work enough and that he would join in with the eating later. “Is the cornbread done?” cried Bertha.
“Ready!” said Phigaro. “And the grits?”
“Ready.” said Horatio.
“I have to admit,” said Bertha over looking her slaves, “You did good--real good. Now let's feed them.”
All the pans of cornbread and bowls of grits were brought to the tables where hungry wolves dug in before the meal was placed on the table. The trio was given their portion, but before digging in they all lowered their heads to pray. If their eyes were open, they would have seen the all the grabbing and chewing immediately cease. Once the trio returned their heads to the upright position, they saw all the wolves gaping at them as if they were headless.
“W-what was that?” said Casey. “What?” said Phigaro.
“The lowering of the head and speaking to the food?” A perplexing look came over the trio's face.
“Oh!” said Reiach catching on, “We were praying, you know, giving thanks to God for this food.”
“Pray!?” said Casey with little hop in his seat, “We don't pray over food we devour it.”
“We pray,” said Phigaro taking a spoonful of grits, “Because we are believers.”
“In what?” said Durro inquisitively.
“In nothing,” said Bertha interjecting quickly, “Everyone eat up before the food gets cold. The wolves obeyed, and Phigaro perceived that a opportunity to witness about God had been thwarted by Bertha's big mouth. She came over and sat beside her slaves with a stern warning.
“Keep you belief to yourself. No wolf in Gosha wants to hear about it.” However Phigaro, still scorned from her interference, was more bold than usual. “We'll let God decide that, I'll speak to anyone I please, mad'am.”
Two things happed nearly at the same time: Bertha,(surprised by the aye-aye's back-talk) nearly fainted as she grasped onto the table edge to prevent from falling. Durro's gang, who were happily enjoying the cornbread and grits, took an interest in the battle at hand. Bertha took her straw hat and fanned herself. She then replaced it on her noggin and pointed at Phigaro.
“No one has ever talked to me like that and lived. You better apologize right now or your two friends will bury you.”
Phigaro, not to be scared, stood on his seat and looking Bertha in the eye said,
“You apologize from interrupting me from telling you son who I believe in.”
“I'm going to kill you.” replied Bertha as he clawed hand scratched the table, “You insolent rodent!”
“And I going to talk about God when I want to!” said Phigaro yelling back, “You big overgrown fur-ball!”
Phigaro's death wish was finalized. Bertha's claws sprung from the table with the intention of sending the aye- aye flying across the hall, but intervention (especially divine intervention) prevented the tragedy. Durro, knowing his mother's temper, came from his seat just at the exact time when Bertha's rage was at its peak. He caught her hand only centimeters from Phigaro's face and had to gradually bring it to rest on the table.
“I'm going to call you “Lucky”, Phigaro, “ said Casey. “Lucky to be alive.” Durro calmly brought his mother's temper to null by patting her hand. “There, there, “ he said , “Now mom you really don't want to kill him.”
“Yes,” she said nodding her head excitedly, “Yes, I do.”
“Mom.” Durro said looking her steadily in the eye, “He may not be a wolf, but he has the guts of one. Anyone that challenges you must be brave or out of his mind.”
“I prefer out of his mind,” said Reiach looking at Phigaro.
“I'm going to induct him,” exclaimed the white wolf to his pack, “No, all of them.”
“He's going to make apart of his gang?” said Horatio.
“Looks like it, but I have something to say about it.” replied Reiach climbing on the tabletop.
“Uh excuse me, Mr. Durro.”
Durro turned around.
“I don't want to be rude,” said the otter making quote signs with his fingers, “But we don't do the “gang-thing.”
Durro walked over to the otter, lowered his head at Reiach's eye level, and succinctly said:
“You've eaten my food, slept in my castle, and one of you raised his voice at my mama. So you will do the “ gang-thing,” he said making the quote sign, “or my mom will do the “killing-thing” understand?”
Rieach looked back at Horatio, who wearily nodded his head.
“Like I was saying,” replied the otter standing tall, “It's a pleasure to join you.”
“That's better.” said Durro with a smile.
The induction was brief and unanimous. Durro called each of their names and a oral vote of aye was given by the wolves. The only nay was from Bertha, although there would have been three more if the trio could have gotten out of it. After breakfast, Durro left with ten of his pack for a morning raid against one of his brothers. Horatio and Phigaro sat by the fireplace as Reiach paced back and forth.
“Sorry about the outburst,” said Phigaro.
“I didn't want it to come this.”
“Don't worry about it,” said the otter.
“I'm actually proud of you.”
“Yeah,” said Horatio chiming in, “You would make a great fighting rooster; all you need are some feathers.”
“Thanks, but what do we do now? Being apart of a gang doesn't give us any place to preach.”
“Are you sure?” said Reiach walking past him, “Kleos will work the good in all things for those whom he as saved. The situation got out of hand, but He will make a bad start a
good ending.”
“Did you make that up?” said Horatio, “Has familiar ring to it.”
“It does,” said Reiach stopping in his tracks, “ but I give God all the credit for it.”