Oh, goodness, dear reader, how did you come across this? I must inform you, regretfully, with a bounce full of weighted sadness, you have stumbled upon a story bereft of college wolves having experimental sex, a story completely lacking in human-on-furry oppression, and, now it is to my shame to admit this to you, dear reader, indeed, this story contains no pokemon at all!

My dearest, most sincere apologies I extend to you (that is, the most sincere apologies a stoat like myself can muster!) for interrupting your hunt for pornography with my idle entry into the world of Fictional Historical Fiction. You see, dear reader (if you ever do choose to become my dear reader (oh I do hope so! you have such lovely fur/scales/feathers/tentacle cups!)) this is the story of one good Calivigros, a ferret, quite an ignoble little beastie at birth, quite unknown, with not a hint at the exciting future set up before him!

It is a tale of romance, of politics, of deadly secrets, of heroes both heroic and situational, of villains both obvious and hidden, of culture clashing against culture, and of the power of literature! My dear reader, you have before you no less than my extremely humble effort to present to you one of the greatest tales of our history!

Or, rather, dear reader, you would have such a thing before you, if this were, dear reader, more than just a prologue, more than just an introduction! Ah! A second apology I must extend to you! In contrition I bite myself, in penance I dance on fire, oh, dear reader, this is but an introduction to our story! Our hero has yet to make an appearance, our stage is just barely set, oh, goodness, but you have come so early, let us at least reward your overpunctuality with some tasty tidbits!

So relax, dear reader (that could be you! oh, do become so!), recline in whatever it is you happen to enjoy a good recline in, and read away! Or, as is more likely, click away, far, far away from this story, and carry on in your search for tales of imprisonment and rape, of humans oppressing furries, and of recolored Pokemon saving the world. Do not fret, dear reader, if you decide against reading this brilliant tale I am presenting to you, do not fret! It is not every stoat who can steal the egg of a jay, it is, as they say, not every wolf who can down a moose! Oh, dear reader, there is no shame, no shame at all! My pride, why, I have such a little pride, such a great deal of humility, it is no interruption of my beat, no bump, no injury, I shall dance on as I have, simple, humble, quiet little stoat that I am.