After the recording ended, Quinn turned to an astonished Abigail and asked with a knowing smile, “Ready to learn even more?”

ABIGAIL: “Ready? Are you kidding? Now that I know Beauregard is still alive and that he and other groundhogs are trying to find me, I want to hear everything! Where are they now?”

QUINN: “They’re holed up together near Fern Hollow — a special meadow not far from here. But they’ve also made a new ally.”

ABIGAIL: “A new ally? Who?”

QUINN: “Name is Scout!

ABIGAIL: “Scout who?”

QUINN: “Scout Skunk — he’s a descendant of, get this, none other than Sebastian and Sabrina. As you know, only too well, he was born from a line of fighters and with a story you won’t believe.”

ABIGAIL: “This is incredible news! Tell me everything — how you met him, how old he is, what he looks like, and what makes him tick!”

QUINN: “I’ve so much to tell you, but first, let’s fill up our glasses and get more nibbles.”

Abigail jumped to her feet, her mind racing faster than her legs. She darted into the kitchen, grabbed a handful of snacks and a chilled bottle of Pinot Grigio from the fridge, and then returned breathless but beaming within moments. She set the refreshments on the table with a soft clink and then eagerly sank into her chair. With eyes locked on Quinn, Abigail was ready for Quinn’s story to continue.

QUINN: “Ah, thanks. I needed to wet my whistle, as they say. Now, where was I?”

ABIGAIL: “You were about to tell me about Scout — one of Sebastian and Sabrina’s kits.”

QUINN: “OK, but first, a little more about what happened before we left Beauregard’s makeshift burrow. After the groundhogs introduced themselves, we all talked more about our concerns — especially the obvious changes in the weather.”

ABIGAIL: “It’s not just me noticing that? Even the animals are worried?”

QUINN: “Yes, very much so. General Beauregard retold his story of how he helped the skunks and you fight off the gas and oil land-men when they came to destroy the property behind your previous home. And, as I learned from Dylan, that land wasn’t just your backyard — it was also the home of Sebastian Skunk and his cousin, Willie the Weasel.”

ABIGAIL: “I haven’t thought about Willie in years…”

QUINN: “I know it’s been a long time. Back then, it was you, Beauregard, and the skunks who stood up to the land-men and drove them off your old backyard. Beauregard hasn’t forgotten what they fought to protect — and he knows the land needs defending again. But he also knows he can’t do it alone this time. That’s why Dylan sent me — to find you, Abigail. To help you rally the strength we’ll need for what’s coming.”

“ABIGAIL: “That’s fantastic. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

QUINN: “I have a pretty good idea.”

ABIGAIL: “I’ve been working with a bunch of local environmental groups — all fighting against the constant pollution from that Hell’s Bells Cracker plant in Beaver County.”

QUINN: “Yup, Dylan filled me in. Methane leaks. Flaring. Toxic runoff.”

ABIGAIL: “It’s heartbreaking. Our air, water, and land are being destroyed daily. Since that plant opened, we’ve seen a spike in asthma, heart disease, cancer, neurological problems, and even lower birth rates.”

QUINN: “That’s awful. I had no idea it had gotten that bad.”

ABIGAIL: “It’s gotten so bad several new specialty hospitals have been built just to handle an increase in cases.”

QUINN: “That says it all, doesn’t it.”

ABIGAIL: “And that’s not even the whole story. Property values are tanking. Those big promises about job creation? Most of the construction jobs vanished once the plant was finished. Only about 500 permanent jobs were left — and the economy that ‘boomed’… well, now it’s a bust.”

Quinn listened in grim silence, each of Abigail’s words landing heavier than the last. Dylan had warned him. But no warning could prepare him for the raw truth — poisoned streams, poisoned lungs, promises turned to ash. The map had led him to Abigail’s door. Her voice had led him to the heart of the fight.

QUINN: “The same cycle, repeating—promises of prosperity, followed by devastation. It’s a pattern that’s all too familiar.

ABIGAIL: “OK, Quinn, tell me — how did you happen to meet Scout? And what’s he like? Anything like his father, Sebastian, or mother, Sabrina?”

QUINN: “Well, here’s what happened. Before we all left Beauregard’s burrow the next morning, I unrolled the map and shared it with my new friends. We huddled together, determined out our route, and figured it would take about a day to reach your place.”

ABIGAIL: “And let me guess — nothing went exactly as planned, right?”

QUINN: “You know it. It took longer — we got hungry and got sidetracked. We stumbled onto a wild patch of strawberries not far off the road. Couldn’t resist. We’d just started munching and lunching when—”

ABIGAIL: “When what? What happened?”

QUINN: “We caught a whiff. A very distinctive whiff.”

ABIGAIL: “Uh oh. Let me guess, A skunk?”

QUINN: “Bingo. Turns out we weren’t the only ones feasting. A young skunk was there too — and he wasn’t thrilled about the company, so  we all backed off real quick, hands up — no one wanted to get sprayed.”

ABIGAIL: “Smart move!”

QUINN: “I called out, explaining who we were, why we were there, and where we were headed.”

ABIGAIL: “You talked to him?”

QUINN: “Had to. And when I mentioned where we were going, he perked right up, stopped spraying, waved his tail like a flag, and led us back onto the road — away from the strawberries… and the fumes.”

ABIGAIL: “So tell me more about this young skunk, uh … Scout.”

Even though Abigail knew all about Scout’s parents, Sebastian and Sabrina, she listened intently as Quinn explained —

QUINN: “Scout was born with a legacy already stirring in his blood. He grew up listening to the old stories — tales of the great battle where the smallest stood against the mighty — and from the start, Scout understood that real leaders don’t command from a distance. They walk the hard road beside you. They stand watch when others falter. They believe, even when belief feels impossible.”

Abigail’s pulse quickened. With methane leaking unseen into the air, streams running thick with poison, and the monstrous “Hell’s Bells” cracker plant rising like a shadow just twenty miles away, she felt it — the pull of a legacy that could no longer be ignored.

QUINN: “Scout isn’t a reflection of Sebastian — he’s something new. His father fought with fire in his heart, earning his stripes by leading the skunk troops into battle when the land-men came to your old backyard. Sebastian drew battle lines and held them strong. But Scout? Scout builds something different. He doesn’t lead with commands — he leads with connection. He threads unlikely allies together, draws strength from hope, and finds bridges where others only see walls. Scout knows that this time, it’ll take more than courage. It’ll take every heart, every voice, and every wild, reckless dream we still dare to believe in. And Scout is ready.”

Stay tuned to learn more …