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Chapter 45: Clear

It was the end of the school day. The only respite in the chaotic day was the time Roger spent with Hunter.

There was clarity in their interaction. It was as if the fog was blown away when he was near the wolf now. Prior instances had not prepared him for such a reaction to merely being in his presence, as when they had interacted earlier he still felt dazed.

However now he was refreshed, albeit it felt that his renewed energy came late. He wished at that moment that he could have felt such a way when speaking to Mary, but it was in the past and he could not change what had happened. At least, he thought, she gave him a second chance. This weekend, they would be acquainted, or at the very least he would discern whether or not the road would abruptly end.

It could have been worse, he thought to himself. Any event that would have destroyed any chance to better know the vixen could have happened in the day that he felt his worst. More so, he could have destroyed even his ties with the wolf; though he was unsure how, he was sure that it was a definite possibility.

Rather, he sat now at his own home. While cognizant and coherent, he still found that the walk back was merely but the passing of a breath compared to the deafening maelstrom of thoughts. Now that the restraints were gone, his mind decided on its own accord to wander about rapidly, and he wished it would not do so.

Clarity caused him to be distracted somewhat. He sat staring at the book, but his eyes did not move. They were unfocused, rather he seemed to have such an intense surge of activity that he could not focus on what felt to him as trite and trivial. Surely, though, he did not believe that educating the wolf was unimportant, but for the moment he could not let school matters bother him. The future was in front of him, and he could see the outline. He wanted to fill it in, to see the full picture, the glimpse and glance of that of what was to come.

He was not precognizant, but he could at least predict within a certain margin of error. It was tedious, but it occupied him.

He felt a paw on his shoulder and everything suddenly focused. All of the other thoughts he had were gone, as if a wind blowing away the leaves. All that was left was his room, his books, the wolf. All that was left was a tranquility of sorts. The wolf had abolished the chaos.

"Are you okay?" Hunter asked him. He looked at him with deep concern.

Roger nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay..." he began, but thought about it. He shook his head after a moment and then said, "Well, maybe not. I'm just kind of... out of it today. It's just a weird day."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" The wolf's offer seemed genuine.

If the fox had known how he could help, though, he would have helped himself. He could not think of a way for Hunter to help him, though as he thought about it further, merely the wolf's appearance had helped so much, and the wolf's touch had completely rid him of such anxiety. Was that truly the solution?

He moved the wolf's paw off his shoulder and the contact was gone, yet he was fine. Perhaps it was a lingering effect, he figured time would tell. Maybe it was just that he needed someone to pull him out of the abyss.

"You've done a lot already, Hunter," the fox told him. "I appreciate it, I really do."

The wolf nodded. It was quiet between the two at the moment, and it was strange to the fox, for when things were quiet, his mind would at least fill his head with noise, but now it was a deafening silence. It was almost maddening.

He tried to break it by asking a question, prompting conversation, but also because he desired the answer. "Have you asked your mom about this weekend yet?"

The wolf nodded, and his enthusiastic demeanor returned. The fox could already tell what the answer was, if not from the smile and energy that returned to the wolf, then from the tail that threatened to cause a hurricane.

"Yeah, she said it's alright. What about your parents?" he asked. His ardor depreciated a little, seemingly accepting the possibility of denial.

"My dad said it was okay, and I'm pretty sure my mom would say it's alright," Roger told him. "So it's settled then, I guess. On top of that, we've already got a plan for the weekend, so to say."

The wolf quirked his head. "What's that?"

Roger replied, "Well, Mary said she and her friends are going to watch a movie and they invited us. That way we can get to know each other. You can make some more friends this way, right? And I'll be there with you, so if they shouldn't make fun of you or anything."

Hunter's ears drooped slightly. "Are you sure? I mean that they won't make fun of me."

The fox nodded. "Of course. Well, if they do, I'll make fun of them back. I mean, what can they really say? That you're dumb? They're not really all that bright, themselves!"

Hunter shrugged. The fox continued, "Well, I don't know that for sure, but I'm pretty sure I'm smarter than they are; as such they have no room to speak. Besides, we're friends, right? And if they don't want to get to know you, then I don't want to get to know them."

The words seemed to fall heavily on the wolf, who looked away for a moment. He turned back to look at the fox, though, and there seemed to be tears that had welled in his eyes, but they were disappearing. Roger felt a crisis had been averted, but it was a crisis he had caused. That seemed to be his talent whenever the wolf was related.

Roger patted Hunter on the back. Perhaps he was getting better at this.