Tic leaned against Trace’s chair and frowned at the screens. “We don’t know enough yet, do we?” he asked.

Trace shook his head, lifting his arm to let Toc slide into his lap. “We don’t. There’s a lot of variables, and they haven’t been here long. I haven’t been able to spot the pattern yet.”

“I hate acting like a rookie,” Toc complained, letting his head thump back against Tic. “Everyone looks at us funny cause they know we’ve been here for years and we’re too old to still be this bad.”

Tic scratched his brother’s ears, giving Toc the affection he wanted. There was something funny about those three foxes. Two of them were almost identical, except for their scent, and the third was close enough to fool most at first glance. “It’s like when Tic and I play,” Tic said.

“You know that game doesn’t work on me,” Trace chuckled. “It just sounds like you play with yourself. Which I don’t really need to know.”

“Yeah, but we still fool anyone outside the village, on missions,” Toc cut in. “We play who’s-who with the cats and the dogs all the time. Sometimes the dogs don’t even realize there’s two of us until we stand next to each other.”

Trace hummed in agreement. It was a game the twins played on civilians often, but they passed it off as a trick and a show. The clever stage performances often kept targets busy until the rest of the team could do their job. “Think you want to play with the foxes that way?” he asked.

Tic shook his head. “I’d rather help you. The foxes aren’t any fun. Do they have any information on the lost one?”

“Maybe,” Trace said.

Toc tugged on Trace’s shirt. “Tell us the story of the lost fox again. The one we’re searching for.”

“If you’re looking for a bedtime story, you should go to bed,” Trace warned. “I have to work.”

“It’ll take ten minutes at least for the computer to download our footage and start it up,” Tic countered, moving to kneel on the floor so he could rest his head against his brother’s leg and look up at Trace with pleading eyes. “Please?”

“Fine. But then I do have to work, so you’ll either need to hunt down a vixen for more footage or get some rest.”

“Promise!” the twins grinned.

“Then, I guess it started about twenty years ago. Lord Westerion was five years old, and a skulk of desert fox civilians came into town. It was unusual; they were neither ninja nor warriors, but had instead become crafters and traders. They wanted a peaceful life.

“The papa fox made beautiful items out of gold and silver. It’s said that they even rivaled the creations of the first Lord Westerion, but that’s just a rumor. The momma fox designed amazing pieces with gems, giving color and life to her husband’s work. The third was a vixen, beautiful and sweet, who could sell all their works with the brightest of smiles.

“Lord Westerion’s father invited the foxes to stay in the palace, and it was discovered that the momma fox was going to give birth very soon. The king was joyous, and when the baby was born a massive celebration was held. Lord Westerion was fascinated by the tiny bundle of fur in particular.

“For five years Lord Westerion and the baby fox grew up together and shared the same nursery. They went on many adventures-”

“Trace!” Toc complained. “You’re supposed to tell us some of the adventures!”

Trace shook his head. “Not tonight. We don’t have time. Do you want the story or not?” he added when it looked like Tic was going to continue complaining. Sullenly, the two nodded their heads.

“Very well,” Trace continued. “The two went on many adventures together and even snuck out of the palace to roam the city together. When Lord Westerion was ten, his father explained to him about packs and how the little prince would find his own. Lord Westerion knew immediately that the fox he’d been playing with was his First packmate. He was thrilled, as was the King.” A glossing over of the events at best, but Trace knew the twins wouldn’t sit still for the boring details.

“The prince wanted to find the rest of his pack quickly, and started looking through all the wolves in the palace and surrounding areas. The little fox was confused, since he didn’t understand packs. He began to feel lonely and abandoned, and started going out to the town alone. Lord Westerion still made sure to attend festivals and events with the fox, but he also wanted to grow his pack.

“Eventually, the prince found more of his pack. He brought them back to the palace excited to introduce them to his fox. He asked the fox to come to the gardens before dinner so the prince could introduce the fox to the rest of the pack.

“But the fox was angry. The prince had left him alone for so long, and only came to see the fox when it couldn’t be avoided. The fox decided he didn’t want to see the prince’s gift, and ran away.” The story didn’t end there, but Tic’s eyes were drifting shut as the wolf fought to stay awake, and Toc was already letting out soft puffs of air too slowly to be really paying attention. Trace was surprised they lasted as long as they did; they’d been awake for around 48 hours already.

“Up you get, come on,” Trace said, standing and pulling the twins to their feet. “Come on, you’re too old for me to need to tuck you in, right? Act your age, and go to bed.”

“Thought we were supposed to be rookies,” Toc complained.

“You told us to act like kids so we could get away with stuff,” Tic added even as he rubbed his eyes. It was hard to believe they were only a few years younger than him.

“Trace, what’s the captain going to do when he finds the fox?” Toc asked through a yawn.

“Who knows?” Trace responded, herding the two towards the door. “It’s been 15 years since he disappeared. A lot can happen during that time. He may not be the fox Lord Westerion remembers, if he’s even still alive.”