"The Wild King", chapter 7

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#7 of The Wild King

Where is Home?


I remember the feeling of floating. The grass was behind me, but I was upright, as if the world had been turned sideways. My weight didn't feel as if it was in my back, but rather my feet, or nothing at all really. I didn't feel as if I had a weight. My vision kaleidoscoping the world around me, twisting the fractals of yellows, oranges, greens, blues, brown, red. Blue was the dominant color. My mouth tasted like metal, and I drew my hand to touch my own face but found I could not find my hand. I could not feel it. I didn't care, though, nothing really mattered. The sky was made of diamonds, and they were beautiful

"I think I'm about to die" I would speak into the world, to the grass I supposed. Maybe some of the trees heard me, I wasn't sure. Through the fractal vision, the trees kept taking off their canopies and trading them with one another, sometimes wearing the sky as a hat while they left their leaves hanging in the bare blue sky. The stars that had been in the sky were gone, there was only one again. I suppose the sun had gotten jealous of sharing the attention. I felt a hand turn my head and warmth spilled from it. The voice behind the hand spoke but it sounded like nothing comprehensible, like if you turned the tuning dial on a radio quickly and only got split seconds of every station. I'm sure the voice said something nice, though.

I couldn't feel it, but I heard a ripping open of my stomach. I'd never known it before then, but skin tearing doesn't sound that much different than paper. Isn't that fascinating? Whatever it was that had hands on me had just tore open my abdomen and was doing something with my entrails. I couldn't tell what, but the diamonds in the sky felt as if they were trying to distract me from worrying about it. I believe I told them "it's okay", but I don't remember my mouth moving. They continued trying their best, though. I even closed my eyes at points, and the diamonds continued. Different colors, cooler colors. Blacks, purples, deep greens, dark blues, a beautiful mulberry color, all dotted with stars. That must've been where the stars went after the sun kicked them out, into my eyelids. I want to think I smiled when I saw them, my familiar friends.

There was a sudden cold sensation in my body, painless but noticeable, like when it's summer and your open mouth is about to sink teeth into a strawberry popsicle, frosty and fresh out the freezer. You feel the cool sensation on your lips before it makes contact. That's how this felt, and it was somewhere in my abdomen, below my lungs. The sensation came, only for a minute or so, then passed. I heard a coughing sound, then spit. Whoever it was that was handling me had spit into my open body, I guessed. I kept my eyes closed and tried to discern the constellations on the backside of my eyelids, but they were like none I'd ever seen before, strange hybrid creatures, chimerae I'd never before considered. Beautiful men, they were. I hoped one day I'd see them on the other side of my eyelids.

My body was jostled as I felt my ripped open skin pulled taut together, spit upon again and licked salaciously. Whoever was murdering me had strange desires, though I wasn't offended. I was going to die regardless, I thought, no harm in being someone's thrilling sacrifice. The hands left my body and I opened my eyes for a moment, bidding farewell to the stars and dark colors to once again greet the bright blues and greens, the warm yellows and oranges. They were all interrupted, though, by a sudden emergence of black, so much black. It moved around in the crystalline shapes as if it was encircling my body, obscuring my eyes from the diamonds. I felt it rude, especially in my final moments. I closed my eyes again, returning to visions that couldn't be interrupted, and accepted life as it was. I felt myself sinking to sleep again, for the final time I assumed, to the sound of radio tuning speaking to me.


"What was that?"

Those were the first words I heard, a familiar voice. My eyes hadn't yet opened, but the stars were gone, the colors were gone. It was all black.

"Nico?" the familiar voice continued. "Nico you said something."

Nico. That was me, I knew that for sure. What I wasn't sure about, though, was whether or not I was alive. I strained to open my eyes, which felt dry and crusted shut, and would eventually succeed in doing so. The world was so bright, but I was inside. I was in a cave, by the fireside. It was warm, I was lying on something soft, like fur.

"I said something?" I asked, the words feeling like molasses in my throat. My whole body felt dry, and speaking was difficult.

"Yes. I wasn't aware you were going to speak. I missed it. Do you recall what you said?"

I would lick my lips slowly, slap them together a few times trying to moisturize my mouth but finding nothing. What had I said? I couldn't recall.

"I don't know." I admitted.

"Well, if you think of it, tell me. It sounded like a question."

I slowly became aware I was speaking to King. He was the only one I knew with that insociable tone.

"Okay, King." I replied.

"It seems you grabbed the wrong species of serpent, and accidentally grabbed one that secreted a bufotoxin when threatened. It flooded your stomach upon suffocating. Thankfully the one you grabbed seem to be fairly young, and the toxin wasn't as potent."

"You said it was the fangless one" I replied. "I checked it for fangs."

"It must've had small fangs and you overlooked them. Nevermind that, though, it's alright. You're alive."

"Yeah. Yeah I am."

"I had to extract the snake from your stomach, though."

"Oh, so it was you doing all that. I was awake, but I couldn't feel it."

"Yes," King started, "a heavy mixture of natural sedatives and numbing agents, mixed with my saliva and bile for clotting and repair. You were still under the effects of the toxin during extraction, though."

"Yeah. The world was beautiful, like crystals. I feel like I understand the wild more, now, and the wonders of it all."

"Perhaps. I am going to go get you water and food, though, now that you are stable. Please don't move until I return."

With that, King did indeed get up and leave. I could feel my body now, and it ached, but not really in the ways I expected. My torso barely hurt at all, but my muscles seemed to ache overall as if I'd climbed a mountain. I assumed some sort of spasming had strained them. I wasn't concerned, though. I knew I'd be fine, and I weakly rolled myself to my side then pushed myself to standing. For all that my body had been through in the past few days, I was upright, and that felt exciting enough to want to remain that way.

I walked slowly outside and let the morning sun grace my body with light, wading slowly into the plunge pool, up to my waist. I relieved myself, and apologized to the aquatic species with "sometimes y' gotta have a little fun" as I felt the pressure from my bladder ease. I had no idea how long I'd been unconscious, but regardless it felt incredible to relax like that. Afterward, I would move a bit closer to the edge and sit, letting the water come up to my neck as I began to scrub myself slowly, washing off in the running water and dipping my face below the surface to freshen up.

King had technically saved my life, I thought, though it was also his mistake that almost killed me. I had seen the snake was indeed fangless, I was sure of it. I had wanted to argue with him about it when he told me I must've just not seen fangs, but in a way he was right. I couldn't recall. They may have had small fangs and I just overlooked them, but I really felt sure I was right about that. After all, he'd been to the Forest's Heart before and probably knew the species better than I did.

Eventually I would return to the cave, intending to occupy my time for a while with that book, which was still strewn about awkwardly after having been thrown against the wall. I wanted to look through King's other "treasures", but I felt it respectful to wait until he was present for that. I did collect the book, though, and returned outside to sit in the sun and study it. Finding a nice place near the water's edge where the grass was soft, I stretched out on my belly and began to thumb through the pages.

It was probably somewhere around 400 pages long, and every page seemed to be written in those runic looking symbols. There were few pictures, from what I'd seen, one of them what indeed appeared to be King, but I didn't recognize the others. Still, I continued to thumb through it, looking for anything familiar that I could perhaps use as a starting point for translating. Most of the pictures were of strange creatures like King, though, things that looked like cryptids more than anything I recognized. It was all speculative, but I wondered if it was some sort of bestiary of mythical beasts. King certainly wasn't a normal animal, we knew that much.

I laid in the sun reading it for well over an hour, satiating my thirst by drinking from the plunge pool while my stomach snarled with hunger. Eventually, I heard footsteps, and would look up to see King returning with a stick in hand, two fish speared on the end of it. He looked tired, though, more fatigued than I'd seen him in a while, and as I sat up to greet him he'd continue past me, disappearing into the cave. A short while later, I would see a flame's glow through the cracks. He seemed to be in quite a strange mood, and I couldn't help but worry it was from the things I'd said to him when we were in the stone circle.

"King? Are you alright?" I asked as I entered the cave with him, seeing him roasting the fish over a fire.

"I am tired. It has been days since I was fed."

"Yeah," I started. He was right, it had. Things had been so intense lately and I'd not been feeling well, so we'd ended up neglecting letting him feed. "yeah, it's been a while. Maybe tonight, after I eat and regain some of my strength?"

"You will not be back to full health for a few more days. I will simply have to wait."

I chewed on my tongue for a moment, feeling guilty. I knew how I felt when I was hungry, and I couldn't imagine how hard it must've been to go days at a time between meals. That said, he had mentioned that he could be sustained from any sort of bodily fluid, and that lead me to ask "would you like...something else of mine, to hold you over?"

"Like what?" he asked.

"Any...of the...fluids? Any of them?" I asked. I, of course, knew which one was easiest, and which one I would prefer, so I followed up with "there's one in particular I'd love to share with you right now..."

He gave a slow exhale, his shoulders sinking a bit.

"Yes. Yes that will suffice. We will do so after you eat."

"Is that what you'd prefer?" I asked, adding "i mean, we could go other routes, but..."

"Expelling any sort of bile would only dehydrate you and waste the food I am cooking. We will settle for what we have, for now. I will feed on you when you have recovered, and things will go back to normal."

"After that, can we leave the woods for a day? I'd like to take you to do something fun."

"Yes, fine. We will discuss that later. For now, come eat."

Indeed, I ate. King had not only made fish for me, but had swallowed berries for me once again, and I reluctantly let him regurgitate them into my mouth, as he enjoyed doing. It seemed to brighten his spirits that I'd grown to cooperate with the act, as this was the fourth or fifth time he'd done it and it was the first time that I hadn't gagged at any point during the process. The fish was sufficiently cooked as well, and after lunch I felt genuinely refreshed, despite the odd meal I'd had. King, though, was visibly impatient, shifting a bit in his sitting position and short on conversation. He must've been quite hungry, and somewhat irritable as a result, because I'd barely finished lunch before he was asking me "will you pleasure yourself now? Please?"

"Masturbate? You don't wanna, like...do something together?" I asked, my ears folding back in slight disappointment.

"Like what? I am tired, Nico. This is not time for intimacy. I would be content doing something more engaging later, but for now I just want nourishment."

King's tone was far more frustrated than I'd heard from him before, much moreso than when he'd fussed at me about not being "wild" enough for him. He sounded almost a touch angry.

"...Fine. But, I'm not gonna be able to do it with you just sittin' there watching me. That's weird. Can I at least, like, have some sort of indulgence that makes it less awkward?"

King's body rose with a long inhale, and then sighed once more, a deep sigh that seemed as if he was steadying his breathing, as if he was frustrated. I felt embarrassed in that moment, and retracted my request with a nervous "nevermind."

"No, no, it is fine. Just tell me what you want." King replied, fatigue dripping from his tone.

"Just..." I started, lying down on my back, patting my chest, "sit here, tail up."

"I..." King began to speak, but didn't continue. Instead, he would do as I'd requested, crawling onto my body and scooting his backside up so that it was close to my snout, lifting his tail.

"I'll pat my stomach when i'm close, and you can...do whatcha gotta do. For now, though, just relax. Just..."

As I spoke, I took his hips and raised them a bit, scooted him back, so that his tailhole was only an inch or so from my nose--albeit defended by his thick body hair and fur--his heavy balls on my collarbone, and I breathed in his smell slowly as I began to masturbate. That stink, that odorous sweaty musk, and that stale, strange moldy smell unique to his backside, it was mentally liquefying. I felt drunk off the scent, and I had to pace myself so as not to climax too quickly and produce a lackluster result. I knew this was more for King than it was for me, or for us as a couple, so I tried not to overindulge either. I wanted so badly to lean in and salivate on him, open him up, but I refrained, for now at least.

King, on the other hand, remained mostly still. His knees were on either side of my chest, and his hands were on the floor, his head looming over me as I pleasured myself, alternating between looking down at me and looking away, looking around the cave's flickering colors from fire light. I would bring myself to an edge, then stop, and repeat that sporadically for a while as King simply sat there, waiting on me to finish. I wanted it to be good for him, and I hoped he'd understand that. Occasionally I would draw a particularly loud sniff and I could see him react, his backside contracting a bit as if embarrassed by it. This was cracking the foundations of my self-control, and I found myself sinking closer and closer toward losing it. Finally, I did, and, as I began to drip with an approaching climax, I leaned forward into the bristly body hair and dragged tongue from his taint up the soft flesh of his hole, greeted with an unbelievably sour taste that tingled on my tongue. I was also greeted by an audible "mmMMF!" sound from King as I saw his fingertips curl in and bare nails down on the cave's stone floor, followed by a chastising "Nico, please."

"What?" I asked, almost whining.

"Behave."

"Relax," I replied, "you'll get what you want after I get mine."

Another long inhale from King, another long sigh. I returned to my enjoyment, my nose pressed to the peach fuzz skin at the base of his tail, my tongue lapping at the bitter flesh beneath it, feeling it clench against my drooly maw. I wanted so badly to open him, to penetrate him. I wanted to top him, desperately. The taste of his hole, the way his body clenched up just from tongue alone, I knew he would've been an incredible fuck. I wondered what about him created those smells, as he didn't eat. Outside of the salty taste of sweat, he shouldn't have had a flavor. I find it strange, arousing, and I wondered what he felt like inside. For all the blood I'd given him, it felt only fair that I got to indulge from time to time as well. I was so close to climax at that point, though, that I would've been spoiling the thrill of opening him if I'd tried it then. I decided to wait, instead, and tapped my belly to let him know I was close.

King leaned down, and I could feel the warmth of his breath on my dick, only to shortly after feel his teeth on the tip. They had rested just behind the head, his tongue a barrier between my skin and the bottom row, but the top row were right below the head and pressing down just a bit. I was almost scared he was going to bite me, but I had little time to worry about that as I felt my climax surge through my body. I pulled a loud sniff into my nose and held it, suffocating in his aroma as I fed a hearty mess of seed into his maw. I could feel his tongue press up and suck it back, followed by him swallowing, and he repeated that several times as I continued to empty myself into his muzzle. It was somewhat uncomfortable, the teeth bearing down each time he swallowed, like they wanted to close down and seal his jaws.

My climax subsided and King crawled off me immediately, standing up and reaching a hand back to wipe out the saliva from the fur under his tail, and I laid back to bask in the afterglow of the strange session we'd had.

"Thank you" he spoke very coldly.

"Don't sound too excited." I replied.

"I do not like the taste of that fluid. It's unpleasant, not at all like blood."

"Yeah, well, admittedly it's a lot easier to give you than blood." I said as I slowly sat up, combing my hair as best as I could. It had become a rat's nest since I'd come to the woods, I couldn't imagine what it must've looked like. I'd only seen myself in passing reflections on the surface of the water, but I'd not seen a mirror in over a month. I wondered what it would be like, going back to town, back to dad's house. Would it be comfortable?

"King?" I asked. He looked to me.

"Pack up your treasures, I want to go back home. I miss our shelter."

Truthfully, I did. I missed our shelter a lot, even if this was cozier. It wasn't ours, though, it wasn't our home and I wanted our home back. King didn't say much, but agreed. He'd take one of his pelts and gather his belongings from the corner, tying it up like a bestial knapsack before exiting the cave. I grabbed the tome and followed him, and once outside I saddled up onto him with his belongings and he broke into running for home.

It was exactly as we'd left it, albeit some leaves had blown in through the doorway. My backpack was still there, our musty old blanket was still there, though the deer carcass was gone. It had been picked clean, leaving only some of the bones. We dumped his belongings in the shelter and went for a walk. Over the next few days, we had fish frequently. He seemed to have grown used to spearing and roasting them, as it was simple. Two days after we arrived home, he fed from me again, and after that he seemed to be in much better spirits again.

Nothing much else happened for about a week after that. He fed me, and I fed him, and we did very little else together as I tried to relax from the recent string of shocks, and I finally awoke one morning to face King, lying next to me as he always had. It was very early, my sleep schedule had fallen into me waking around what was probably 5:30 AM.

"King?"

"Yes?" he answered almost immediately, leaving me still unsure if he ever actually slept.

"Can I go back into town today? I want to get you something from my dad's house, a present."

"A gift?" he'd ask, following up by asking "will you be home tonight?"

"How about tomorrow? Give me a night to make sure I get everything done, and I'll be home first thing in the morning."

"No. That's too much for the first time. Leave quickly, and be home tonight."

I didn't love that answer, but I was willing to work with it. We chatted a bit more as I got up and got dressed, gathering the necessities--my keys and wallet--and I bid King a temporary farewell. He was extremely tense, very visibly uncomfortable, and as I hugged him it felt like hugging a corpse. He was rigid, his hug awkward.

"I'll be back tonight, I promise. I love you."

"Very well. I will be waiting here."

I cast him a disappointed smile at his response, asking "King?"

He nodded, as if he knew what bothered me.

"I love you too."


The truck started, much to my surprise. I thought sure the battery was going to be dead and I'd have a whole new issue on my hands, but it started, and I pulled out onto the main road. It felt strange driving it again, and it felt strange to be clothed. It was all a bit uncomfortable, feeling similar to how I felt the first night I was nude in the woods. How fascinating it was to bear witness to how my brain had already rewired. I called dad and put the phone on speaker, setting it in the pull-down cup holder armrest.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm comin' home for the day, are you gonna be around? I'm just here for today."

"Yeah, I'll be here. Ain't doin' much else."

"Okay, well...see you in a little."

"Well."

Click. Dad was his usual self. My hand was hovering over Buck's number in the contact list, and after a good five or so minutes had passed with my one hand holding my phone I finally pressed it, dialing, flipping it on speaker and tossing it back in the cup holder. It rang for a while, and just when I thought it was going to go to voicemail he'd answer.

"Nico?" his southern drawl was like honey, sweet honey.

"Hey."

"Jesus christ, Nico, good to know you're alive."

"Dad didn't tell you where I was?"

"Yeah, he told me you called him once, and that you were livin' in the woods now, and that's it. Even then, man, it's been over a month. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. I'm actually headin' into town for the day to--"

"I'll meet you, we can catch up. Stay the night at my place. When're you gonna be in town?"

"I--I can't stay the night, but we can hang out. I'm heading to dad's house now, meet me there. Should be about an hour."

"Whattaya mean you can't stay the night? What's going on, Nico?"

"Listen I--"

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Listen. Buck. I'm fine. Meet me at dad's, I'll tell you all about it."

There was silence for a minute, then "okay. See you there."

Another click. I tried turning on the radio, but it was just too loud and annoying for me. I drove in silence for the next hour, and would eventually pull up at dad's house, my old house.

His house was a singlewide trailer, rural property. Yard was full of project cars and junk. Dad would impulse buy things we didn't need and they'd end up thrown in the yard to become nests for bees or just to get overgrown with grass and weeds. Buck's truck was already there, the old late 80's brown F-150, two-tone. He was leaning against it, and as I pulled up he'd approach the truck immediately. He looked as gorgeous as he'd always been.

Buck was a fellow fox, about twelve years older than me. His fur was orange, unlike mine, and he had the traditional fox markings of a lighter belly and darker hands and feet. His hair and beard were a brown that had an almost green tint to it in the light, and he wore his hair in a traditional mullet. He was in his work clothes, his blue Jupiter Motors jumpsuit, and I realized he must've left work early to meet me. As I hopped out of my truck, he stood there for a moment, looking me over before he would snatch me and pull me into a tight hug, a hug that felt like it was trembling.

"Thought you were dead." he'd say over my shoulder. I hugged him back, tightly, and felt that trembling in my body as well.

"S'been a weird time for me." I replied.

We stayed in that hug for a while, and when he finally broke away he'd rest his hands on my shoulder and look me in the face, his eyes looking up to my hair, down to my eyes, then wandering down my body.

"Y' look like absolute shit, kid."

"I'm fine, Buck."

"What've you been...doin'? How've you been livin' out there? I thought it was only gonna be a week or two."

"Well," I began. I had no idea how to tell him what I needed to tell him. It didn't even make sense, logically, but it was going to be even harder for him to swallow with our history, and because of the reason I'd left him in the first place. The whole reason I'd went to the woods was to discover myself, to figure out "who I was", and to make myself better as a person. Telling him I was in a relationship, well...that wasn't going to be easy.

"I...met...a guy out there. And we're livin' together." I admitted. Buck's face had been one of worry, slight relief in his eyes, but overwhelming worry. When I said that, though, the expression drained from him. He looked flat. His mouth opened slightly as if he wanted to say something, and his eyes squinted incredulously.

"Y' what?"

"I met...a guy. A very weird guy. He built a house for us, out in the woods."

"He built you a house?"

"Yeah. Well, it's like...a small little hut, but it's a house. And he cooks for me and hunts his own food and takes care of me, and..."

"Nico."

Buck would cut me off, his hands tightening in grip on my shoulders as his eyes had a tremor to them, as if they were going to tear up. I'd never seen him cry before.

"Is...this some kind'a joke? Are you fuckin' with me?"

"N-no. No, Buck, I...i'm super serious. I was even gonna bring him t' meet you eventually. He's shy though, he's never been around anyone before."

"Anyone?"

"Yeah, he's, so...so he's..."

Buck's incredulous squint only narrowed, one eyebrow cocking in what seemed to almost be offense at my story. I didn't blame him. It sounded ridiculous.

"He's a monster, like a...real...monster."

"Monster?"

"Yeah, like...so...I was out in the woods and I found this wolf's head, this skinned wolf's head, and I--I fucked it. I fucked it, and I ...the next day he was there, laying in the grass. It was like the wolf's skull had a body now. He had stolen my clothes and said I gave him life and--"

Buck's hands would withdraw from my shoulders but hang in the air, palms facing me, in what almost looked like a surrendering gesture, or perhaps a defensive one. He took a step back and turned his head slightly away from me, but kept his eyes looking at me as he interrupted.

"Have...you been takin' drugs?"

"What? Buck, no I--"

"Pills? Smoked weird herb? Ate some mushrooms or somethin'? Anything?"

"Buck, no, listen--"

"No, YOU listen" Buck began. One of his raised hands pointed at me, the index finger thrusting forward and jabbing me in the chest. The confusion in his face turned to something upset, something angry.

"I get that we broke up and y' had to figure yourself out and all that shit. I get it. Fine. That's your choice. But don't you dare call me up after OVER A FUCKIN' MONTH and ask me to meet you somewhere only to sell me some MADE UP BULLSHIT. I deserve better'n that Nico, and you fuckin' know it."

"I promise! I promise!!" I insisted, pushing his hand back with mine and splaying my fingers out, thrusting them at him a few times as I explained the best I could.

"I KNOW it's fuckin' weird. It doesn't make any sense to me either. I have no idea how this happened or where he came from or nothin', I just know what he's told me. I wanna bring him into town t' meet you, though, I really do. Would you believe me if you SAW him?" I asked.

Buck's teeth grit and his index finger curled inward, into a clenched fist that he shook slightly as he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before taking a few more steps back.

"Yaknow what? Yeah. Yeah, buddy. You got my number. You call me when he's in the passenger seat and you're headin' into town, but until then don't you fuckin' call me for anything else. You understand?"

I went to whimper "Buck" but he'd already taken steps back to his truck, crawling in and slamming the door shut so hard the window rattled. He peeled out with no hesitation and drove off, and I was left in dad's yard, alone with my feelings, staring down at my feet. I'd wanted so bad to tell Buck all about it, but at the same time I didn't feel like I could even be that angry with him because of how i'd treated him, leaving him so suddenly and finding another man right afterward. He must've felt so replaced, and yet I found myself still so angry at how he'd left. I wanted so badly for him to understand me, to hear where I was coming from, but that was just like him to be dismissive. The longer I sat there thinking about it, the more upset I got.

That was until dad came out on the porch and interrupted my solitude with the sound of the screen door slamming behind him. There he stood in all his glory, tanktop and briefs. Dad wasn't like me at all. Where I was only, like, 5' 4", dad was 6' 5", and thick. He had that musclegut body, where it's clear you used to be buff but you've started getting fat over top your muscle, and people described him as being "built like a brick shithouse". His tank top could barely contain his belly and his briefs had holes in them, and of course he had a beer in his hand. He waved with the other hand, though, and I went to the porch to greet him.

My and dad's conversations were, and always have been, uninteresting, often one-sided with me dumping details about my life onto him while he nods along and fires back non-answers, as if he's mainly trying to make it seem like he's listening while he's really just thinking about what he's going to say next. I didn't even mention King to him, though, he wouldn't have understood it. It would've gone better than it had with Buck, but only because dad would've just nodded along a few times and then told me about some show he was watching on TV or something like that.

The living room was exactly as it was when I left it. The TV in the back right corner, hallway to my bedroom and the bathroom to the right. Dad's chair to the left, kitchen behind him, hallway to the laundry room and his bedroom in the back left, sofa directly ahead against the opposite wall. It still smelled like cigarettes and beer, the carpet was still dirty. Dad had went on with his life like he would have regardless of whether or not I was present. I walked across the living room floor as he made his way to the kitchen and grabbed another tall can, cracking it open before offering it to me. I accepted, and he cracked open another for himself before taking his seat back in his chair.

"Buck mad atcha or somethin'?"

"Nah, he's...just gotta go back to work" I lied.

"Boy works his ass off. Glad they hired him. Means I don't gotta do too much."

Just like dad. We chatted for a while before I made my way to my bedroom, opening the door to find it like i'd never left home. My room was a mess, admittedly. I kept my bed in the corner, and the L-shape of floor between it and the door was full entirely of dirty clothes, clutter, junk. No food garbage, but tons of other stuff. I tried to not attract bugs, but I didn't do much else. My clothes needed washing, but the ones on the floor weren't much better, and as I stepped on them to find my way to my bed, I'd throw myself back onto it and lie there staring at the ceiling, and the flags I had hanging from it. The bed was so soft, and it creaked as I rolled around on it, trying to find comfort in how soft it was but finding it more uncomfortable now than anything. So much about the house felt uncomfortable, I felt like a stranger in the place I'd lived for my entire life.

Dad had already settled back into watching TV, seeming to be going about his day regardless of where I was, so I decided to make this trip a rather short one. I packed a second backpack with things I felt like would be useful or fun for our time in the woods, things I thought King would find interesting. I packed it all up and set the bag on the bed, deciding I would indulge myself a bit and take a true shower before leaving for home. It was brief, mainly to condition my hair and brush some of the knots out of it, but afterwards I was left feeling strange and oddly sterile. My fur felt uncomfortably dry, and my skin was itchy. I didn't much care for the strange chemical sensations the soaps had left on my body, and I was honestly excited to get back to the woods and get dirt and sweat back in my fur.

I packed up and left after a short conversation with dad, having polished off my beer and been given another for the road. I set it in the cup holder, deciding I would save it for King to try, and headed back home. The drive was quiet, peaceful, and left me a lot of time to contemplate how things had gone with Buck. I still found it hard to believe how much he'd refused to listen, and how hateful he'd been to me. I'd wanted him to approve of my relationship, but I couldn't even get him to believe it existed, let alone hear anything about it. I contemplated on the drive whether I even wanted him to meet King or not, and as I returned to that spot deep in the woods I decided I would give it some time before I brought King to meet him. I wanted to take King into civilization, but it would be for just the two of us. He'd enjoy that more, anyway.

I grabbed my belongings, bringing my phone with me this time in the second backpack, taking with me everything I'd brought from home and headed back for our shelter. When I arrived, King was in the distance, at the creek, and I called out to him. It was still the afternoon, I'd arrived back much earlier than expected, as most of my plans to spend time with Buck had been cut short. I entered our shelter and set down my bag, hearing King approaching from behind rather quickly. I turned with open arms to greet him with a hug, only to find myself abruptly grabbed by the throat by his monstrous hand, throwing me sideways onto the forest floor before his body was on me, bearing down with a hateful weight as he snarled "WHO ARE YOU!?"