[ EU ] Why is Swiper so afraid of the words , `` Swiper No Swiping '' ?

A fox kit darted between the legs of the villagers, unnoticed by those adults who assumed him to be a child trying to keep pace with his mother or father. In a paw, the kit clutched a small red bouncy-ball in his hand - it was nothing of great value, but it still cost more than a child could hope to afford. 
 
 `` Swiper!'' a voice called into the crowd, loud and brash. 
 
 Swiper, the young kit, shot a fearful glance backwards. His eyes widened and he scrambled into a side alley, shaking his angry pursuer by hiding behind an empty stack of crates that sat waiting to be picked up. 
 
 He sighed in relief and paused to ease his racing heart. With shaking paws, Swiper bounced his prize just once against the side of a crate and caught it as it came back. Still, he knew, he could n't stay hiding out in an alley forever. He'd have to go home at some point. 
 
 Swiper came from a nice home and, according to what the village people told him, was very ungrateful for his good fortune. He was told he was shaming his family, stealing as he did, that his father especially worked too hard for his son to show such little appreciation. They did n't understand... how could they? 
 
 The young kit trudged home with his prized clenched tightly in his paw. He knew that he'd been seen and what that meant. His father would have been notified of his misdeeds. 
 
 Arriving far too soon, Swiper pushed open the front door to a cute home tucked away in the hillside just outside the village limits. A familiar smell assaulted him immediately, causing his fur to stand on end and made his feet feel like they'd become nailed to the floor. Normally, in towns, around strangers, he was so good at fleeing when things got rough, but at home... at home was a different story. 
 
 `` Is that you?'' called his mother from another room, her tone soft and sweet. Swiper longed to run to her and hide in her embrace, but, before he could, a voice called out in response to hers. 
 
 `` Swiper? That village girl stopped by already, do n't you dare run out of here.'' 
 
 His father was large for a fox to begin with and his labor in the fields had made him tough and muscled. He filled the doorway and his eyes wandered around the room until his sights became set on the trembling young fox. 
 
 There was no preamble, no time for Swiper to flinch away or plead for mercy; his father was upon him at once, swinging a paw hard against his head. Unprepared, Swiper fell back and his head banged harshly against the door-frame. 
 
 Vision swaying - or perhaps it was his father that swayed, eyes unfocused - Swiper could only try to focus as his father leaned close, close enough that the smell of liquor was almost overwhelming, and growled, `` Swiper, no swiping.''
