The Wolf That Danced
Just something for a friend...
The Wolf danced, his fur glowing in the strange darkness. Spotlights shone, revolving and crossing the dance floor, flowing like a river of light across the furs present there. A rainbow of colour filled the room, and as the Avian watched, the Wolf's fur shifted from dark reds to aqua blues, to fresh-grass greens and parlour pinks. He was surrounded by furs of all descriptions - from avian to feline and beyond. Scaly reptilian furs rubbed their cold-blooded skins against one another as snake and lizard grinded, feathers flew when a lion couldn't help but pounce a younger finch, and even this sight was quickly hidden behind a wall of Fox's - wearing smiles of false-innocence and watching their fellow mammals with a deep curiosity.
The Wolf, however, was alone. This did not seem to matter, however, as despite the lack of attention the Wolf's heart was clearly in the music. It seemed to the Avian that his apparently loneliness was not due to any deliberate avoidance on the part of the others dancing around him, but rather a strange dismissal on the Wolf's part. Each time a dancer would approach, their eye's searching for the reflected glow of the Wolf, but each time they would struggle to meet those eyes, find them looking through them, past them, as if disregarding them before they were even perceived. It almost seemed as if he wanted to be alone out there.
The Avian sat fascinated for some time at the bar to the side of the floor. It was the only consistently lit part of the club, and the music was not as ear-splittingly loud. The lights were behind the patrons, the Wolf or any of the other dancers could not perceive the focus of those at the bar. For the bird, it was like perching high above a sea of people, looking out instead of looking down, watching the stories of others unfold without ever being subject to the same. Here it was safe for him to stare, almost perversely into the crowd. His brandy glass sat on the bar half-empty, as he breathed in the heavy scent of the club. He was trying so hard to relax, but every time his gaze would wander it would soon return to that same Wolf.
"Was it intentional?" he wondered silently, musing to himself. "A strange calling card indeed, for one so eager to avoid others. To be here at all..." he ruminated. All the while the Wolf's moves never ceased, each new track, each new beat - he met them imperfectly. His style was flawed, lacking finesse, lacking that smooth sleekness of other furs, but met with unequalled enthusiasm. Each swish of his tail under the rainbow light sent tantalising wisps of excitement through the Avian's mind.
The Wolf's eyes were hard to see, and his expression hard to read in the dark. The Avian found himself wondering deeply as to the sound those lips might make, or what those eyes under arched brows looked like. He wore five golden rings in his left ear, along the outside edge, and his right ear carried the sign of past battles, a tear or rip had cost him some small part of it. It was hard not to imagine him fighting against some stronger foe as he moved purposefully, passionately across the floor. Whilst other furs souls were concerned for each other, the Wolf's seemed to seize the rhythm and instead was a party with it.
The Avian lifted his feet from his stool, talons clacking as they clenched into the ground. He had made up his mind. His drink was abandoned as he made his way to the floor just as the song changed.
A short bird with snub-beak and black-tinted sunglasses spoke into the microphone. "Now I promise y'all we'll be returning to those sick tunes in just a few minutes, but for now it's one for all those beautiful couples I can see already loving these tunes - and each other, so grab 'em if you've got 'em, folks." he laughed as the tune struck up. The Avian didn't recognise it, but it was slow - different to the powerful bass and the louder drums. There were strings in the music, the long, deep sounds of drawn violins, and other similar instruments sent shivers up his spine. So distracted he was, he didn't notice the Wolf until he turned back to see the very same Wolf staring straight towards him.
Where before he had avoided the other furs, his face was neutral and his eyes were narrowed, as if sizing up the Avian. The Avian didn't know quite whether to be honoured to be given attention or scared it might be he had made some notable mistake, but as he met those eyes and saw the animal intelligence which lay beyond he soon forgot his anxiety. The Avian extended a paw as the music built up, feathery fingers splayed open towards the Wolf. He regarded them for but a moment, before those same lupine eyes returned to those of the Avian. The Wolf's expression did not change, but he placed his lupine paw into the Avians hand, and in moments the dance proper had begun.
The music swelled as the Avian and Wolf swirled. Much of the floor had cleared, with couples and groups avoiding the slower dance. The Avian was conscious in the back of his mind of others watching as those same multi-coloured lights as before played over his own feathers, mingling with the Wolf as they danced closer. The Wolf was certainly up to the challenge, meeting the firm grip of the Avian's talons with the agility of a canine. His feet were large, but he was light on them, and soon the Bird found the Wolf out-stepping himself, taking the lead in the dance, even if only for a few seconds as he was guided into a close twirl, his chest for a moment brushing that of the Wolf, his heart giving a tantalising thump. As the music built to crescendo, the Avian felt the Wolf relax into him, and suddenly it was he who was leading, following those same steps and finding his wing slipping around the sides of the furry Wolf.
The Avian felt the warmth of the fur, the wet sweat of their continued dance mingled with the pervasive heat of a living body and something else - that warm-hearted passion which had fuelled his original fascination. His fingers scritched the Wolf, digging through that fur and pressing into the skin of the fur. He had not realized, but he was panting, not from exhaustion but from exhilaration. Each flick of that tail - so close to touch, each semi-grope against the fur's chest... He shivered as he felt the desire burning within him. He resolved himself, and as the song ended found himself staring into the eyes of the Wolf.
"...I'm Syndel," the Avian said, simply.
"Call me Fuzzbutt, burd." the Wolf replied simply, rakishly raising an eyebrow.