Breaking the Mold - Ch 3
#3 of Breaking the Mold
Sorry about the delay on this part. Thanks for waiting.
Breaking the Mold - Chapter 3
If you can't talk the talk, is walking the walk good enough?
Mike padded closer to the edge of the park, walking with the bouncy, confidant stride of someone who belonged, someone who had walked this path time and time again. Inside, his heart pounded and his mind raced, the excitement and fear of the situation he was in conspiring to send adrenaline coursing though his veins. Only his years of troublemaking and living by the seat of his pants allowed him to keep the serene outer appearance from being tarnished by his inner turmoil, falling back in to his old ways easily despite dealing with this new world and his new body.
As he virtually skipped his way towards the gate, more and more of what lay beyond became visible to him. First it was just the barest details he could pick up through the gaps in the gates, the wooden house directly opposite was short, a bungalow with just one row of windows running across the front. It was hardly a normal looking house, though he had difficulty explaining why. It all seemed, very... well... organic was the most accurate word he guessed. Natural. Nothing seemed square, equal or even built. It was as though the house had grown that way, but that was ridiculous! It had windows and a door and even several chimneys, out of one of which smoke drifted lazily, seeming as though even it was enjoying the warm, sunny morning.
His ears perked as the breeze carried the sound of a group approaching the gate to him, gulping and forcing himself to keep walking, lowering his muzzle and padding to the side of the path as they came wandering through the gate. He let his eyes steal quick glances as they walked past, seemingly as happy to ignore him as he was to be ignored. A horse, two dogs... or a dog and a wolf perhaps, and an otter stomped and padded past, his eyes dropping to the floor to avoid their gazes, steeling himself for a change in the yipping, chittering and snorting of their conversion, but none came. An hour seemed to pass between each step as he walked past them, the loud crunch of the gravel under ten sets of feet filling the air, but as he strained his ears he could tell that each of them was speaking the same language. He was right, despite the different 'dialects'; the low, snorting whinny of the horse the fast; high pitched, slightly squeaky chitter of the otter; and the sharp woofs and yips of the canines was the same set of inflections, the same types of sound, the same language! It was all but confirmed as they all broke out in to laughter at once, the whining growl of one of the canines painting him out as the butt of whatever joke they were having.
His nose flared as he got a few steps past the group, the scents they left behind sharp in his mind. To his amazement he found he could pull them apart if he really concentrated. There was a sweet, hay like smell that must have been the equine; a fishy, almost damp smell that must have been the otter, and... yes! They were different, the wild, somehow strong willed scent of what was definitely a wolf was similar, but definitely distinct from the smell of the dog's... well... the only way he could think of describing it was 'wet dog smell'. He was sure there was a better way of putting this, in fact he was sure he was probably breaking a whole bunch of social taboos describing it that way, but it wasn't as though he knew any better. He smirked to himself, like he cared anyway!
As Mike stepped out of the gate his eyes grew wide while he took in the surroundings, even his strong willed walk faltering for a couple of steps. It was all so similar to what he was used to... but everything was a little... looser; more organic; more free form. The houses were arranged along a rough street made of what seemed to be compacted dirt, like the bed of a dried out river, hewn flat and squeezed solid by years of water flow. Up both sides ran a pavement or sidewalk of sorts, along which he forced himself to resume his walk, feeling the short, hardy grass tickling up between the pads of his feet. Everything seemed so quiet, even with his new ears strained to their limit he could only identify the slightest of rumbles in the distance, the vague promise of something busier than this almost eerily quiet street. From the look of the people walking around and through the park, this was some sort of university district. Where were the parties, the piles of litter and abandoned shopping trolleys?
He paused, feeling the peculiar sensation of the hair prickling up on his spine, but all down his back as he heard a noise behind him that was totally alien. Turning slowly, he gulped, spotting little puffs of steam coming out of something that was obscured by a house further along the road. He pressed his back to the wall of the park behind him, gulping and panting a little as the size and frequency of the little clouds increased, and slowly something long and square rolled out on to the road.
It was a car! Damn it, he had to stop letting himself get so spooked. Still, it did sound nothing like a car, even though it looked like one. At least, ones he'd seen in those stupid 'history of manufacturing' videos at school that the other kids seemed to enjoy so much. If they hated the work so much they should just not do it like he did! He watched the car go by, getting a strange look from the bear driving it. It looked like an old car, and sounded like a miniature steam train. It even had a little pipe coming up either side of the windscreen out of which the steam was chuffing.
He continued his walk down towards the end of the little road he was on, skipping a little to try and relieve the nervous energy brought on by the shock of the car. He still didn't understand how, or even why he was here. He especially didn't understand where here was. If there had been some place like this in the world, then he would have heard about it, it would have been on the news or something. Reaching the end of the road he looked left and right, pondering which way to go. All he could see was the same type of little housed roads radiating off this larger one in each direction. He scanned around with his ears and nose, hoping for a clue. His nose was useless, all he could smell was oranges, it seemed someone had planted a huge bunch of them on the end of this street. His ears weren't much better... but he could still pick up that distant rumbling. Shrugging to himself he turned to face it and headed roughly in that direction following the road. He had to learn more, and if that's where everything seemed to be happening then that's where he was going, he'd never learn anything staying in these sleepy streets.
He continued following the larger road, always a little on edge as the cars were a little more frequent passing him here, starting to pant a little as the sun continued beating down on his fur, the darker patches on his shoulders holding on to the heat tightly. He passed the next street, this time enjoying the scent of sweet apples which were grown on the corner. He felt himself drool a little, the inside of his ears flushing a little as he wiped his mouth and quickly moved on. The next street was pears, then bananas, then sweet red strawberries. This was crazy, why did every street have to smell so delicious, his stomach was growling as he forced himself to walk past the strawberries and on to the next street. He growled back at it softly, not wanting to risk stopping for too long in any one place in case he drew attention to himself. So long as he didn't pass any...
Blueberries. He came to a halt in front of them, his nose twitching as he took in the scent, eyes closing as his mind filled with images of milkshakes, muffins, and the rarest of treats, blueberry pie. He couldn't stop it this time, his drool dripping down and landing on his big footpaw, huffing at the air like a crazed drug addict. Damn this new nose! It made everything a thousand times stronger, and just when he thought he'd gotten used to it something would set it off even stronger. His stomach gurgled and growled at him, his mouth was dry and sandpapery. Fuck it, he didn't care if anyone saw him, he had to have something.
He took a quick look left and right, and seeing no-one he reached out, grabbing a paw full of them. The were so ripe and soft, a few of them burst in his paw just from that. He scooped them up to his mouth, fumbling a little trying to find the end of his muzzle and smearing it with blue juice as he finally found his lips, rolling them inside and licking his paw clean before closing his muzzle slowly, shivering in bliss as the little capsules exploded over his tongue, mixing with the scent all around him to leave him almost weak at the knees at the taste and freshness.
His paw scooped again and again, tugging at the branches, pulling off the berries in large handfuls, mushing them into his mouth, not caring as the odd one escaped and rolled down, getting mashed under his feet as he shifted, reaching for the best looking fruit. The perfectly preened bushes in front of him looking more and more like scraggly wild growth as he continued to pull at them. He probably would have eaten the bushes down to bare twigs, but he was interrupted with a snort followed by a loud whinny.
Mike glanced up, gulping and tucking his ears back as a large stallion approached from the door of the nearest house. It whinnied and nickered at him, but even though he couldn't understand it the bared teeth and wide eyes spoke plenty of the intent. He turned quickly, leaning down to push off in to a sprint but his footpaw slid out from under him on the mess of berries and short grass under his feet. He flung his arms out, catching himself on all fours and wincing, glad this was grass and not concrete. Glancing back, he yelped as the horse was just metres away, it's large, strong hands reaching out for him. Desperately he loped away on all fours, feet slipping and sliding until his pads were finally cleared of the mess, launching himself forward in a sprint so powerful it brought him back up to standing just as he felt the horse's hands swipe out at where he was, feeling the rush of air ruffle through his fur as he pelted down the street.
Hearing a screech from behind he glanced back, slowing his pace and sighing with relief at the horse laying on it's tummy, screaming after him as he tried to get back on to his hooves and failed. "Well," he thought to himself "It seems eating the bushes is a big no-no. I wonder if I can drink the coolaid." Ducking behind some bushes he peered through them, ears perked high for sounds of pursuit. Catching sight of the horse through the leaves he sank back in relief as the equine turned tail and went back in the house. He would have to be more careful... but at least his tummy wasn't complaining now. Taking a quick look around, and seeing no other signs that anyone was taking any notice, he resumed his jaunt towards the city.
* * * * *
Beth sorted through the flowers at the park's edge, eschewing any of the tools on her belt and using her rugged paws instead. Years of experience had left her paws even more resistant to the spines and spikes of the plants than badger paws were naturally, and it was much quicker. She liked her job, and took pride in her work, and had even won awards for her work tending the university parks, and the height of her work has brought her here, to the perfectly manicured ceremony grounds, where the official pictures were taken, and where graduation and enrolment events took place.
Something marked out the footsteps long before they came to a halt behind her. Maybe it was the perfect regularity of the gait, or perhaps it was the fact that the time between the steps marked out a much bigger animal than the hard to hear crunches in the gravel suggested. For this reason the pair of shadows cast across the flowers she was tending surprised her, and she took a moment to finish tugging out a particularly deep rooted weed. The shadows still remained. Taking a deep breath she got up and turned around to face the pair.
"You are Bethany Tanglethorn, head grounds keeper?" the nearest panther demanded. She bristled at the bluntness of the question, taking a moment to look over the pair before answering. No wonder she hadn't heard them coming until they were just moments away, there wasn't a spare ounce of flesh on them. Every inch of their toned, lithe bodies was coated in short, flat, smooth fur which was as black as the depths of space, barely a glint even in the bright noon sunlight.
"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. Depends who's asking." she shot back, the cheek of being demanded of in her own park by someone who didn't know who she was annoying her greatly. Baring his teeth the leader reached to his black belt, pulling off a small black wallet and flipping it open. Beth gasped, not even needing to hear the words he said next. "F-R-D madam. Are you Bethany Tanglethorn". She mumbled her assent, nodding as her mind reeled. FRD, the Feral Reintegration Squad, it was rare anyone actually got to see them in person these days.
"You filed a report this morning of a suspected feral. Explain the circumstances." Well, of course she'd informed them, it was the law, she could have lost her job if she hadn't... but still, she hadn't expected it to be followed up. "T... There was a corgi, asleep on the grass. When I woke him up he seemed confused and disoriented, he didn't seem to be able to understand me or speak. H... he made some strange noises at me and then when I got closer he just ran away... but he could have just been drunk, I don't know!" she protested feebly. "Do hungover students normally run away at the speed he did without communicating properly?" the panther shot back. "W... well, no, bu..." she stammered, before being cut off "Give a full description of the suspect, everything you remember".
"He was just a standard welsh corgi, white tummy, toffee sides, white paws fore and aft. Grey shoulder tops, scruff and ears. Blue eyes I think. Looked to be around ten years old."
The panther's partner had pulled out a book, scribbling down the description, asking politely "No alterations? Dies, patterns, piercings, lineage traits?" "No... j-just a cute smile." she replied "What's going to happen..." she started, before being cut across by the lead panther "Thank you for doing your duty madam. Go about your business and let us deal with the ferals." He turned to his assistant "Give her your card." then padded away down the path. She took the card from the paw of the other panther, looking at it then up at him as he turned away. "Wait!" she said, searching the card for a name "Bagshot... please, what will happen to him. I didn't think... he was just a pup really." The panther turned back and patted her gently on the shoulder. "I... I'm not allowed to say. You did the right thing, we'll be saving him from a terrible life, and making sure he's a danger to no-one." he said reassuringly "Just give the number a call if you see him again. Ask for Baggy. I... I have to go" he said, giving her a brief smile and turning to run after his partner, the sound of his feet soon fading to silence even on the gravel.
Beth sighed to herself, looking after the pair for a moment or two before settling back down on her knees and returning to her work, but her head wasn't really in to the work any more. She sighed again, the warm air and sunshine on her black fur not warming the deep chill that had filled her chest, she looked up in to the air and muttered "Run little guy... run..."