A story of the past Seven children here. How many elsewhere? How many communities would survive this cold? He hoped many of them did. He should have come sooner, he should have made the time, but he hadn’t. Now he regretted it. He noticed the Anthro women because they weren’t elderly, more than before of their fur. He canted his head as he tried to work out why they were here. “They won’t let us get close to them,” A woman said next to him. She was old, almost skeletal and her hair was thin wisps. “You were wondering about the mothers. The cubs won’t let us come close to them.” El considered her words as a coyote picked up her child. He, or she, he had no way to tell, sniffed the air before burying their tiny muzzle in her fur. “It’s the scent,” El said. “We’d worked that out,” the woman replied, smiling. “It’s the why we don’t get.” “That young…” El hesitated. He was no scientist, but he’d read a lot over the years. “It’s instinct. Our sense of smell is better than yours. It’s how they recognize who is family.” “I suppose that makes sense. How long will it last? When are they going to recognize the rest of us as friendly?” El shrugged. “I don’t know.” “Didn’t you go through the same thing?” El smiled. “I was made, not born.” “Oh, right. Sorry. You’re a soldier. I never paid much attention to those things.” El nodded, not taking his eyes off the mother and child. “If you’ll excuse me.” “Hello,” the coyote said. She turned her son, he was naked, and sat him on her lap, facing El. El coughed before them. “I’m El, who is this?” “This is Francis, say hello Francis.” The boy studied the lynx, then yipped and yapped. When he was done with his greetings, he squirmed and turned himself around. He nuzzled his way to her breast. El canted his head as the boy latched his mouth around the nipple and suckled. “I hope this doesn’t make you uncomfortable,” she said, cradling the boy so he had easier access. “I’m Maria.” “I’m just wondering what he’s doing.” “He’s feeding. The human women do it like this. They’re who showed me. The men tend to look away.” She motioned to the room. “This was a good idea the Governor had.” El chuckles. “He hates the title. His name’s Vee, VeeDee if you want to be formal.” He indicated the child. “May I?” “Please wait until he’d done. It shouldn’t be long. Then, if he lets you, you can touch him.” El nodded. “How did it happen?” “Last winter, we had to bunk up it was so cold. We weren’t ready for it. Me and Walter shared a bunk for heat. He was the only other yote in my unit and we were friends. It wasn’t the first time we’d had sex. I’m not picky, but I do prefer yotes, and Walter knew me, so he was my regular partner.” Francis mews and she readjusted him. “A few months after the winter began I started getting sick. I was throwing up a lot in the morning. One of the women called it morning sickness, and I didn’t think more about it, since it did happen in the morning, but when it kept happening, I saw a doctor and he said I was pregnant. My stomach grew over the next months and then Francis came.” “So Walter wasn’t the first time you had sex?” “No. I’m seven, I’ve had plenty. My first unit commander showed me. He’s who Francis is named after.” “A commander, so he was human?” She nodded. “He showed everyone in the unit over the first week. After that he encouraged us to do it together. Something about it making us a better unit. He had a lot of strange ideas about what made is better fighters. We were already trained after all.” “Infantry?” “Yes. Walter is, was I guess, there is no army anymore so I don’t know if the classifications still matter. He was Support Class.” Little Francis released the breast and mewed. She wiped his muzzle. He looked so fragile, El thought. “Let him smell your finger. Get used to it, then you should be able to touch him.” El offered a finger, and the boy grabbed it, pulled up to his nose and sniffled. He rubbed his cheek against it, then chewed on the tip. “He doesn’t mind Anthros,” she said. “But he doesn’t like how human smells, well adult humans. If they come close to him he mews and tries to crawl away. He doesn’t mind the other children.” El chuckled as Francis attempted to eat his finger. “Does he speak?” She shook her head. “Yipping is as close to words as he comes. Walter is worried that without unless the machines start working again, he won’t learn how.” Could he learn even with them? El wondered. If Anthros being fertile hadn’t been part of the scientists’ plans, what would Francis be? An Anthro or more like their four-legged counterparts? He looked Anthro now, but maybe any toddler looked like this, and the way he looked might not represent how his mind would be. “I’m sure it’ll come. Have you asked the human mothers how it is for them?” “They say that it’s still early to expect him to say words, and that some children are late bloomers.” El let Francis chew on his finger, then excused himself. The boy mewed as his chew-toy was taken away. El promised to be back when he had the time.