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"Alright Ryan, here you go. Welcome to Southern California University." A stamp was placed on my forms allowing me to officially be registered as a student of SCU, a big change from the campus up north, colder and wetter than where I had just moved. The Orangutan was an elderly woman, her crinkled face still smiling showing that she enjoyed her job. Like most Orangutan's, she was a bit on the plump side, but my guess was that was due to sitting in a chair all day.

Smiling at her, I eagerly grabbed the papers, looking over what classes I was going to be taking here. The Orangutan, Mrs. Speice, looked over to her computer as I looked over the sheet, her reading off the classes to me, "As we had discussed over emails, you will only be taking four classes your first semester. These classes are as follows: Youth Development, Youth and Crime, Family Care, and lastly Social Problems in Communities. Do these sound correct to you?" The black marble eyes of Mrs. Speice look from her screen to me.

Itching my paw, I swallowed hard then responded, "Yea, Yes Ma'am, this looks perfect thank you." A slight sweat was starting to drip off my coat, my breathing slightly higher than normal.

"Great. I hope you enjoy your time here. I don't envy you at all for going into this line of work. It is hard stuff and takes a great amount of patience to deal with children. I have three of my own and they make me crazy at times. Good luck kid." Mrs. Speice looked at me, a reflective look in her eyes, her hair clearly showing she came from a family, it being unkempt and disordered in places.

Smiling to her, I moved from my seat, extending my paw to her, "Thank you. I am looking forward to it."

Leaving the office, it was nice to get back outside into the sun. The heat was hard this time of year, my coat pelting hair onto my clothing. It was annoying at first but it was a reminder that I needed a haircut. While I did want to explore the campus a little, I also wanted to get back to my apartment and continue unpacking.

The walk back was a bit long but given I was here, I really didn't mind. After growing up in a foster home, you really learn not to take much for granted, fighting for what you want and need. College was a hard battle to get into, me having to stay at the home an extra two years just to finish the Associates Degree. I worked there the entire time, maintaining my relationship with the staff, especially my "mother". While I never did know my true parents, I had always considered Julie Recknis my mother.

She was an elderly sheepdog, always watching over her children with a good heart. It was hard for her to let me go at first, especially when she saw where I was living. I had been saving up my two years at college, knowing that I would eventually get down to SCU to finish up my bachelors degree. The money had gone towards an apartment, a cheap one in a bad neighborhood but after running with that kind of group, I felt I could survive here.

The walk was about 40 minutes, a good two to three miles from campus. The buildings were decrepit, bricks with graffiti over them; new colors and tagging outlining the walls. Most of the street had bars on the walls, some of the windows being broken, possibly from gunfire.

My building was about average for the community, my apartment a studio with a bar separating the "bedroom" from the "kitchen". I only had 3 boxes lining the walls, a mattress lying close to the window. It was a bare room, joys of not having much money to spice it up. I didn't mind though, I was happy to be on my own and living my own life.

Mrs. Recknis was a great woman, don't get me wrong but when you live with thirteen other children, all with different problems, there is only so much you can take before you snap. I did my best to help her out, as did the staff but she was a very controlling woman, everything having to be her way. She did her best to get the kids back to normal lives, or as normal as we could have been under the situation.

After opening my window as much as I could, I went about unpacking my dishes. Most of them were plates that the staff had donated to me, two plates, two cups, and some silverware. The plates and cups were old and chipped slightly but I didn't mind. As I had said, I was happy with what I had.

Being that my major was Youth Development, I had wanted to work at a youth center, at least see if I could donate some time to the cause. I wanted to get to know the area, see who was who and what the drug of choice was down here. Every place has its own issues and if I were to help, I needed to start somewhere.

Looking myself over in the full mirror on the door, I made sure my shirt wasn't too ruined by my hair, debating whether to change it or not. Deciding against it, mostly to save money, I opened the door and went out into the world.

*****

It was a hot day in Southern California, the temperature having to be at least 80 degrees. It was annoyingly hot, not the same heat as Northern California. I hadn't really seen too many people around my complex, most either hiding from the "new guy" or enjoying their air conditioning. Exiting to the street, I looked around, and then just started walking. Given the area that I was in there had to be a center close by.

Alleyways creep out left and right, their mazes running behind the buildings as if they are encouraging shortcuts to opposite sides. Unlike the heat that glares on the main street, these alleys are shaded; some of them still dark in the corners. Keeping my hands out of my pockets, I made sure to walk tall, showing that if anyone did want to pick trouble with me, I was able to stand my own. I was a strong pup, my husky frame standing tall at 6'2. Not just that but I was formed, years of playing basketball with the locals toning up my abs and arms.

Turning the corner at the end of the street, I was just wandering, taking in the sights as well. What other's saw as a bad neighborhood, I saw as a nice place to live. I was in my zone, my comfort district. If you had tossed me into a gated community, I would have felt underdressed and afraid, mostly because I had already dealt with such issues, trespassing to play in some guy's pool.

I did my best to smile as I walked, looking around for anyone who might be out, but everywhere I walked people pulled their kids inside. It was understandable, me being new and all but it was hard too. I had always been the guy pulling the children in, "don't talk to strangers" and all but to be on the opposite side, it was tough.

"Don't talk about my mom like that!" I heard a growl coming from the opposite street, a hidden alleyway echoing its voices out.

"Why? You know it's true. Your mom was one foxy lady, sleeping around with any guy she wanted. Plus it's not like your bunny of a dad chased after that tail, he was too stoned to do anything." The taunt was a different voice, a laugh following it.

I crossed the street to get a better look, having a feeling this conversation might turn sour fast. Looking around the corner, there were three kids, a fox, a jackal, and a hyena. The fox was being cornered at the end of the alley, his fists rolling up.

The fox was wearing ripped jeans, a hole exposing the thin legs. His shirt looked to be a little worn, possibly a hand me down from siblings. He was angry and I knew he was going to do something bad in a few seconds. "Say another word about my parents, I dare ya." The growl coming out of the muzzle of the fox was a challenge to the two guys.

The hyena made the joke first, laughing as he said it, "Or what? Are you going to slap us with those long ears?"

The fox lashed out, his fist trying to connect with the hyena, missing shortly. The hyena was a quick animal, moving aside knowing that the fox was going to attack. The jackal made the first blow, punching the fox as he fell over.

The blow put the fox on the ground, all his left hand pressing against his chest, him trying to catch his breath. I moved in from the street, rushing down the corridor to stop the fight. It took me longer than I had wanted, the hyena kicking the fox over to the ground before I could stop it.

Pulling the jackal's shirt back, I moved in between the two groups, keeping the fox against the wall and the duo in the path. Seeing them up close, they only looked to be 16 maybe 17, young pups by my standards. I knew I could take them both, having been in multiple fights when I was younger. Snarling at them, I shouted out, "Leave now, if you know what's good for you!"

The fox, much to my disbelief, got up behind me and pushed me forward towards the two. He snapped at me, getting into the fighting position as well, "I don't need your help."

I was almost hit by the jackal, but when he saw the rage flowing through my eyes he backed off a little. Turning to the fox, I lashed out my paw, grabbing his throat and pressing him up against the wall, "You shut up!" Turning back, I bared my teeth, flicking out my tongue as if to challenge them. If they knew what was good for them, they would leave.

Which they did. The jackal, my guess the leader of the two, took the hint and turned around, "He's all yours. He wasn't worth our time anyways." They both let a small nasty laugh out as they walked away.

The fox was still struggling against my grip, his paw trying to scratch its way through my skin. "Let me go! This is child abuse!" He tried lashing out his legs as well, hoping that kicking me might work as well.

I let him loose, the fox rubbing his neck from my grip. Glaring at him, I did my best to contain my anger, "What were you thinking? Going against those two? Were you asking to get your ass kicked?"

The fox glared at me, his brown eyes trying to spit fire at me. It didn't work to well though as I stood there waiting for an answer. "What does it matter to you? You're not my father!" He impulsively stated. I had heard that line multiple times which always seemed to amuse me every time I heard it.

"Look kid, I don't know who you are but your 'father' isn't here. He doesn't seem to be doing his job of looking over you. Is there any place better you could be?" Crossing my paws, I looked down at the pup.

"Actually yea, I do." The fox retorted sarcastically. "I'm late for a meeting. Can I go now?"

"Yes but if I catch you fighting again, I might call the cops." As much as I hated the cops, they were good at their job, some of them even caring about the troubled kids in my old neighborhood. I hoped the same was here.

"Wouldn't be the first time." The fox muttered to himself as he looked out at the street.

"What was that?" I asked him, wondering if he actually had been arrested before.

"Nothing." There was a tone in his voice that he didn't care, which I was disappointed over. He took off, walking away from me, not even glancing back once to see if I was following him. While he tried to portray the whole tough kid look, his limp told otherwise, one that said he had just had his ass handed to him.

Brushing out my shirt, I tried to relax a little. 'Great, first day here and I am already breaking up fights.' Relaxing as much as I could, I felt my hair drop back down, the needles flattening back down to my neck.

Moving back out to the street, I saw a few parents coming back outside, some of them apparently having heard my influence on the fight. Smiling as genuinely as I could to them, I was able to get a few smiles back, some of the kids even waving at me. Granted these pups and kittens were like 3 or 4, it was still nice to see the kids before they got corrupted with the lifestyle.

Right when I turn the corner, I am annoyed to see a youth center sitting in front of me. I mean I am happy and all but had I known about it, I could have dragged that fox by its tail here and shown it some help. Grumbling to myself, I look forward to checking it out, my mood improving with every step I take towards it.

It would be nice to get back to working with kids. Even though I am 22, I still at times feel like one of them, being able to connect better with them than adults my same age. The center looks nice, one of the few high points in the neighborhood. It is clear to see that they are trying to take pride in their appearance, the plants outside watered, the playground off to the side maintained and clean. Even the basketball courts have nets! That is something that you don't normally see in a place like this, which is taking me by surprise.

Pushing the door open, I am even more blown away by the facility. This place is huge, a whopping three stories high. Off to the right there are computers, all being occupied. Granted these are not Mac computers, or even the latest Windows but who is complaining? These kids are spoiled by my standards.

Moving through the lobby, I take note of the walls, parts of them having drawings on them, others graffiti. But this isn't your normal tagging, this is art graffiti, the kind that gets underground artists noticed. Approaching the reception desk, I am greeted by a feline, her black fur matted down in an eloquent pattern. She wore a nice blue blouse, her breasts revealing enough to make them noticeable.

"Hey there, need something hun?" Her purr shows an obvious interest in me, leaving me unsure of how to respond.

Having been brought up under a respectful house, I know that it is best to tell her the truth, although the alternative does seem tempting. I could have told her that I was looking for housing, hoping that my age still fits as young enough to live here, and then scope out the place on my own. "Hi, yea, I'm new to the area and was looking around for youth centers to help out at. I just stumbled on yours and was wondering if I might be able to look around."

The receptionist, a Leslie Black, looks at me, her deep black eye's trying to woo me in. "Do you want a tour or just to wander around? We have cameras everywhere so I don't really think I need to worry about you stealing anything. Plus you don't look like that kind of guy, and I have met most all guys around here." She folded her arms up under her head, propping it up to try and flirt with me. "You have the whole tough guy look but you mean well."

Her movements towards me were beginning to feel a little awkward, so I quickly piped up, "Self guided tour sounds good. Thanks." I don't really have a problem with women, it's just when they start to hit on me; it feels weird. I am not really into women, the thought of having sex with them kind of a turn off to me.

After receiving a visitor tag, I make my way left and take a long hallway down. There are a few employees scattered about, some of them cleaning things up, others looking after children. Taking the tag off, I put it in my pants, hoping to blend in a little more. Visitor tags always make me feel out of place, as if I am not allowed to see what really happens.

Turning the end of the hallway, I look outside to see the basketball court. Opening the door, I am instantly impressed with their setup. They have a few fully pumped basketballs lying around, neatly stacked off to a corner. It is understandable how they are not stolen though as I look at the fence.

The court is essentially a cage, a chain link top stretching from side to side. To be honest, I am surprised that the fence has not been cut already. Picking up one of the balls, I start to dribble a little, shooting a hoop before placing the ball back. If I were younger, I would really enjoy living here.

Moving back inside, I open the door a little too quickly, running straight into a lion, stepping on his toes and pushing him into the wall. He roars out a little, the bellow of his voice startling me. "Oh shit, I'm sorry. Are you ok?"

The lion looks at me, his golden mane making him look larger than he actually is. I have encountered lions before but he feels different to me. His eyes are welcoming, not hard and cold like I have previously seen. His face too, it's soft and clean, not torn up or scarred. "It's all cool, I think it was both our faults, I shouldn't walk so close to the door."

I can't help but check him out; he is a great looking cat. I normally try to stick to my own race but this lion is sexy, his frame lean but muscular. He isn't total muscle like Doberman's or Rhinos, but more of an equal balance of body, toned arms showing out from his shirt.

The lion continues to talk, his pressed polo shirt moving against his chest with every word he says, "Are you Connie's replacement? I need someone to run a group counseling session."

"Umm, no sorry. I am just looking around. I am looking for a job in the youth sector and came upon this place. I'm Ryan. Ryan Tolles." I extend out my hand, hoping that he might shake it. I want to feel his furry paw, see if it is as warm and welcoming as it looks.

Instead he grabs me by my shoulder, catching me by surprise. "Nice to meet you Ryan, I'm Tyson. How are you on crash courses, 'cause I really need help with this session; all you need to do is just watch." His grip is firm, not commanding but enough to show that he does need the help.

Leading the way down the hallway, his arm still drooped over my shoulder, we enter into a huge room, and 10 chairs all lined up. There are a variety of animals moving around, some staying in their chair, others raiding the food that was lying out on the table. Tyson moves towards the group gathering them all around, "Alright guys, let's get back to this. Gather in."

I remain near the door, grabbing a chair from a nearby table to sit in. I watch as the group reassembles; a fennec scratching his arm nervously, a big black and white tabby cat moaning out in protest, a coyote looking at Tyson then me, and then the chair, moving over cautiously.

There is one empty chair when everyone has sat down, sitting right out in front of Tyson. He has chosen to watch the door, as if he knows who this last person will be. Looking to the coyote, Tyson asks annoyed, "Where's Will?"

Before the coyote can answer, 'Will' enters, the door opening with him grumbling as he moves towards his seat. It takes him a few seconds before he notices me, him already a few steps into the room. Tyson looks at him, commenting as he moves towards his seat, "Glad you could make it Wilson."

'Will' looks at Tyson, irritation dripping off his snout, "Nice to see you too Tyson." Turning to see me for the first time his eyes go wide, the fox's ears flattening down at the sight of me. "What the fuck is he doing here?"

Smirking at him, I unperturbedly respond, "I'm here to assist with the group session. Nice to see you too Wilson." I put a little emphasis on his name, having finally learned it.