Sibirskaia: Sticks & Stones Part 1
Sticks & Stones Nothing Broken
(November 22nd)
"Are you sure he'll even be here?" Mic yawned, sipping a soft drink as he stood alongside the vending machines and his orange, feline friend.
"Yeah," Hunter nodded, eyes on the far glass doors: the entrance to the school's cafeteria and commons. "He'll show."
The hyena, though, remained uncertain, "He hasn't for the last four days. What makes today any different?"
And at that, Hunter jolted and snapped his fingers, "Oh, right! I didn't tell you!" He smiled and turned, at last, to look at his friend, "He was finally able to talk to his dad, yesterday. Turns out -- legally -- she can't keep them from calling one another."
That was definitely happier news than Mic had expected.
"Oh!" he smiled back at the cat. "So this info's straight from Elliot, then?"
"Well, more or less. Few degrees of separation," the tiger both nodded and shrugged, before turning, again, toward the door. "But he'll definitely be back, today..."
Information was scarce. To say he was getting it second paw was generous. It was fourth or fifth, at best. But Michael Taylor knew what he needed to.
Elliot's mother had won.
Or, perhaps she'd only won this round. But Elliot and his father had lost, nonetheless. They'd lost one another to her schemes, lies, and machinations. She had managed to convince the courts that Elliot's father was unfit -- at least for now. So they'd given her custody, unless Kris could win it back in trial. And five days ago, on Sunday, she'd taken Elliot away.
Of course, Mic only knew that much thanks to Hunter, who, himself, had only heard it from Stan. And in turn Stan had heard it from Aaron, and Aaron from Will & Kris. But no one, until now, had spoken directly to Elliot.
Robyn, Elliot's mother, had done her best to keep him isolated. He hadn't been at school since Sunday. He hadn't been on any form of social media since she took him, which Hunter and Mic could only assume meant he'd been barred from the internet, altogether. He'd had his phone taken away: one fact, at least, that Hunter knew first paw. He knew, because he'd called Elliot on Monday, and Robyn had answered. And, until yesterday, he hadn't even been allowed to speak with his father.
Until yesterday, everything was speculation and fourth or fifth paw information. Until yesterday, Elliot's parents and their lawyers, ultimately, were the only sources of that information: one side wading through hope and uncertainty, while the other offered what were surely only lies. Until yesterday...no one had heard from Elliot.
But now they had. And early this Friday morning, before the first bell of the day, they finally had some small bit of certainty.
"That's fuckin' fantastic!" the hyena laughed aloud, a paw slapping against his friend's back. "I gotta' be honest, Hunter. I didn't wanna' say anything and upset you...but I was worried he wouldn't be comin' back, at all."
"Hmm?" Hunter eyed his friend with an arched brow.
And following another sip of his drink, Mic explained: "You know? I figured his mom was gonna' pull him outta' school. Try and keep him away from you."
"And from you, too?"
"From everyone," he shrugged.
"Yeah. And I'm sure she'd love to, but she can't," and back again the tiger's eyes went to the door...where they would stay. "This is just temporary custody, remember? And there's only one high school in town. So she'd have to move to another city, if she wanted to make him switch schools. And she can't do that until..." he winced, and Mic knew that it was at the sound of that word: until. "...unless she wins permanent custody. I think Stan called it...parental interference? Custodial...? Something like that."
"Right, right," Mic nodded, before reminding his friend: "but what about home school? She doesn't have to move for that."
"I asked Stan the same thing," Hunter nodded. "He said that she'd be well within her rights, if she wanted to...but that it might make her look bad. Taking Elliot away from all of his friends and his classes, right in the middle of the school year? It might hurt her case...and help Kris's."
"That makes sense, I guess."
"Yeah, I don't know if that's really why she hasn't done it," he shrugged, "but it's Stan's guess."
And the hyena chuckled, as he suggested: "Or maybe she's just too lazy to play teacher?"
"Maybe," Hunter laughed along...
...as Mic forged ahead, "So...now that we've heard from him -- or kinda' -- how's he doin'?"
The tiger took a breath, and swayed his head in thought before answering: "That depends on who you ask: Kris or Will."
And Mic nearly choked on his drink, coughing before he clarified: "His uncle got to talk to him, too?"
"Much to his mother's dismay, I'm sure."
"But Will and Kris are tellin' two different stories?"
"Well, it's just..." Hunter crossed his arms and leaned back against the side of the vending machine, "no one expects him to be doing well, right now. But Will says he's doing better than we thought!" He bore a tiny smile, "He says that of course he's upset...but he's angry and hopeful. Says that it seems like he's putting up a fight, instead of just breaking down."
"That's good."
"It is. But Kris doesn't agree," his smile dropped away as he went on. "See, he says he hears something different in his voice. Says he sounds...distant and defeated? I'm not sure what that means, but he says that Elliot's just putting on a show. Acting strong, when he's really..."
And what followed was anything but a moment of silence. With the bustling chatter of the cafeteria and commons all around, silence was, far and away, an impossibility. But for a short moment these two, at least, said nothing.
Mic wondered, as he tossed his finally empty soda can into the nearby trash, exactly how his friend's sentence would have ended. What exactly were the words couldn't Hunter say?
But he let them go unsaid, out of respect, and moved along.
"So, whadda' YOU think?" he asked.
"I haven't been able to talk to him, yet, so I don't think anything, really." Hunter shook his head, "But it doesn't matter what I think, anyway. No matter how bad he is or is not feeling, it's my job to make him feel even better."
And Mic stalled in confusion. "Your...job?" he asked, slowly. "But just last weekend, you were tellin' me-"
"I know what I said," the tiger cut him short. "But that doesn't matter, either. Elliot's alone, right now. Completely. He hasn't just been taken away from his dad. He's not just being forced to live with...her." The cat drew in a heavy breath, "He's alone. Without his phone, or any access to the internet, right now, he has no one. Not me, or you, or even Scott, James, and Jeff! I mean, Mic...him coming to school? This is his escape. It's the only time he gets to see us, the only time he can get away from her, and..." he shook his head, "...and I know what I told you on Saturday, but that doesn't matter right now. We're all he has. THIS-" he stopped to motion at the school all around them, "-is all he has, left. And it's our job to help him through."
Mic nodded, "And that would explain your big, uhm...surprise for 'im, then?"
The 'surprise.' The mysterious plan the tiger had arranged. The cryptic gift he'd mentioned, only in passing, before Mic had even bought the soft drink that lay empty, now, in the trash.
"That it would," Hunter nodded with a smile. "It's all set up and ready to go, after gym."
"So, uhm...you mind cluin' me in as to what you've got planned, or-"
Mic's question, though, would go unanswered.
Because before even half its syllables had left his lips, his friend was gone. He had risen from the vending machine, and slipped into the throng of students flowing in and out through the glass doors. Mic's eyes followed the orange mass...and they tracked his path, ahead. And there he saw, padding in from those doors, a black and white swath. A short, lithe, and alert little frame. A husky.
Elliot had arrived.
He noted the husky's perked ears. And he watched his nose and his eyes turning about, as his feet came to a stop. Elliot was searching: scanning the commons for a figure. A face. And Mic saw his eyes flash -- bright and wide -- when he found it. He saw his backpack drop to the tiled floor. And he saw his arms fly open to catch the oncoming tiger.
Hunter embraced the dog. His face disappeared into Elliot's shoulder, and Elliot's muzzle hung over his own. The husky's feet left the floor as Hunter lifted him up. Held him there shamelessly before the eyes of any who might care to look.
And Mic smiled.
His friends were together again. They hadn't seen one another in nearly a week. They hadn't heard their lover's voice since Robyn had torn that away from them. And, surely, before this very moment, he knew that some part of them wondered -- just as he had -- if they would ever hear it again.
But now, here they were. And, no matter what Hunter had told the hyena one week ago, no matter what hell Elliot was living through beyond these walls...for this moment, everything was as it should be.
That was, of course, until Mic saw the wolf bearing down upon them.
He wanted to call out, but he knew they wouldn't hear over the morning clatter. He wanted to rush them and intercept the charging wolf, but he knew he wouldn't make it in time...not through the crowd between them. And though he did move -- though he pushed his way through the bodies of the arriving student body -- he was too late...
...and Brandon Sutela was upon them.
The wolf pushed the two apart -- arms wedged between and thrust outward -- forcibly severing their embrace. Mic could see it happening in the spaces between his classmates. And he could hear the sudden howls and roars: the raised voices, as Hunter and Brandon came face to face, and as Elliot cowered behind his tiger.
But he was almost upon them -- nearly to Hunter's side -- before he could make out the words.
"Back the fuck off, Brandon!" Hunter hissed, as he shielded his lover. "We have just as much right to be here, as you do."
"Right? You have the RIGHT!?" Brandon barked. "Then I guess I got the right to bring heroin to school!"
"Did..." the tiger shook his head in bewilderment, "did you just compare being gay...to being a heroin addict?"
"Yeah, I guess I'm not bein' fair to heroin addicts, am I?" the wolf scoffed. "They keep THEIR shame a secret. They don't shove their lifestyles in everyone else's face!"
Finally to their side, Mic stepped between the two, to push his former friend back, "Drop it, Brandon! Walk away."
And that old friend laughed through a sharpening glare, "No big surprise you'd stand up for your boyfriends, here, Mic." And he pointed past the hyena, at Hunter and Elliot, "But THEY'RE the ones who started this! Not me."
"We-?" Hunter stammered to respond, "WE started this?"
"No?" Brandon raised a brow. "So I was just supposed to stand back and let you two dry hump each other in the middle of the fuckin' cafeteria?"
"Oh God..." Hunter growled, "Fuck you, Brandon!"
"Like you could," the wolf snapped, and then motioned a paw around at them all, as he went on. "If it were up to me, the shit you three do would be illegal. And I get that I gotta' live with the fact that it's not. But I'll be damned if I gotta' to SEE it happen, at my school!"
"What the fuck, dude?" Mic tossed up his paws. "You told me to leave you alone -- told all of us to -- and we did! We kept our distance." He pointed at his old friend, nearly poking him in the chest, "This is over. You don't wanna' be my friend anymore? That's fine. But this doesn't concern you!"
"Y'know? Maybe it didn't..." Brandon shrugged. "That is, until this little TAIL raiser got detectives comin' up here, stickin' their noses in my shit!" He looked - pointed -- directly at Elliot, past both the hyena and the tiger protecting him, "I don't know what's goin' on with you, princess, and I don't really care! But if I gotta' see one more cop because of YOUR bullshit-"
And in a flash, Hunter had rushed past Mic, and was back in Brandon's face. "What?" he growled, nearly nose-to-nose with the black wolf. "What exactly will you do?"
"Lookin' to find out, kitten?" Brandon snarled and bared his teeth. But...
"Hunter," meekly, Elliot spoke up, taking his boyfriend by the arm. "Hunter, no. Let's just go."
For a moment, the tiger didn't move -- stiff and defiant -- but he did, in time, relax and shrink away. It was a feat, clearly, of enormous effort. But he swallowed his pride. He backed away. And he turned.
Looking on, Mic knew he'd done it only for Elliot. Just as surely as he knew that it was all for nothing...
...the moment he heard Brandon's voice pressing on: "That's right, pussy cat. Listen to your bitch. Step."
~
It all happened so fast.
From across the commons, a pair of light brown eyes watched it all. And they had been watching for a while. Since before the first swinging blows. Before the wolf had pulled apart their hug, and before that hug had even begun. They had been watching. Before the husky walked through the door, before Mic had fed his cash into the vending machine, and even before the tiger had joined Mic's side. Viri Virranhukka had been watching.
At this point, it had become something of a routine: the folf -- the little white and green foreign exchange student -- hiding just out of sight, and watching the hyena. Remembering the image he'd received, via text, of Mic's muzzle buried in a tiger's loins. Imagining himself approaching that hyena and introducing himself, but never actually mustering the courage to do more than imagine. And yet dreaming of what might come of it, if he ever did...
He'd expected this morning would be the same. He'd expected he would watch his crush from afar. He'd expected that desperate rising need to walk over and speak. And he'd expected to rush off into hiding, should Mic ever look his way.
But he hadn't expected to witness a fight.
And it all happened so fast.
So many meters stood between him and the scene. And so many students, just the same: their heads, their shoulders, and their bags. And the sight: it was a fragment. A blur. Moreover, back home, he'd never seen a fight in his life! Not a real one, at least. Not anywhere other than on a screen. So this: he couldn't begin to make sense of...
Who threw the first punch? Who was at fault? Who had said what to whom to provoke an argument to come to blows? All he knew was that it had. Fists and claws swung. Paws gripped and arms wrapped. For a moment, the wolf's leg came out from under him and he was down, rising again, only once he'd dropped his bag. And, seconds later, the tiger's shirt had been pulled over his head, blinding him and leaving him open to blow upon blow, before it was finally cast aside. The husky shied away. A red line streaked the tiger's white chin. And the wolf's leg gave way once more...
But the whole time, all Viri could do...
...was hope that Mic would stay out of it. That he wouldn't intervene. Wouldn't get hurt trying to stand up for his feline friend. Wouldn't become mixed up in the senseless fray. So when the hyena did advance, his paws out and open to grab them, be it one or both...
Viri could only turn away. He'd never seen a fight before. He'd never been so close to real violence. And he couldn't stand to watch Mic get hurt.
His, though, weren't the only eyes on the scene.
Students clamored around, faculty rushed to respond, and -- just out of sight of it all -- James Callaway sprinted down a flight of stairs. He'd watched this all begin from on high: from his perch upon the promenade and its balcony. And he was en route, now, to stop it.
Sibirskaia High bore a distinctly centralized architecture. The entire school was built around its cafeteria and commons. On the ground floor: the school's main entrances opened into those commons; hallways branched off toward the science wing, the auditorium, the music halls, and the gym; and staircases at every corner of the cafeteria lead up to the second floor. And there, on the second, ran a rectangular hall: the school's promenade. A hallway to the second floor classrooms just as much as it was a balcony, overlooking the cafeteria and commons, below.
This is where James had stood this morning, elbows on the railings as he watched over his students. That is, of course, to say: three students in particular. He watched Hunter waiting with Mic, watched Elliot arrive, and watched the hug he knew had been a week in the making.
And at first, when he saw the wolf approach, he'd hesitated to react. It wouldn't have been the first time Brandon had bullied the boys, after all, and there was little he could do about a few hurtful words. But when James saw Mic frantically rushing the scene, he knew that, somehow...
...this morning was different.
And so he turned, and he ran for the nearest staircase. But unfortunately, by the time his feet hit the ground floor, it was already far too late. Before he could push his way through the gathered students, and make it to the boys, the fight had already begun.
Begun and, just as quickly, ended.
The school's resource officer, and another teacher -- Mr. Chaney -- had beaten him there. And the raccoon arrived just in time to find Hunter, shirtless and bleeding, and Brandon, breathless and limping, being dragged away to the office...
~
James Callaway paced along the hard tiled floor.
The main office lay quiet. It always did during first period. None of the faculty was awake enough yet to make conversation, and the students, for the most part, were elsewhere, soldiering through their first classes. And here, today -- save for errant keystrokes and the electric hums of the heater and the secretaries' computers -- the only sound was the thump of James's feet pacing the floor.
He was waiting. And he was impatient.
By the time he'd found someone to watch his class, and had made it to the office, Principal Rivers' door was already closed. And now, all he could do was wait. Mr. Chaney had already left: passing James along the way. Brandon was inside with Rivers, right now. Hunter was nowhere to be seen. And all James could do was wait.
In time, he grew weary of pacing...or perhaps just weary of the stares of the office staff, irritated BY his pacing. And he took a seat outside of Principal Rivers' door. But even there, the sound continued: the prodding thump of his pacing replaced by the nervous tapping of his toe...
Finally, though, the door did open. Brandon was ushered out, escorted silently by office staff to another room, and James jumped to his feet and slipped through the newly opened door...
...where he found Principal Rivers sitting at his desk, startled by the sudden intrusion, "James!" The polar bear's paw was frozen, midair, as he'd been reaching for his phone, "I wasn't expecting you. I'm a little busy at the moment, though, so if you could just-"
"Sir?" James cut him short, as he closed the door behind himself. "Is Hunter really getting suspended over what happened with Brandon?" he asked: repeating what he'd been told in passing, moments earlier, by Mr. Chaney.
The principal blinked, taking a moment to adjust to the sudden question before answering: "It appears so, yes. For a week." He relaxed in his seat, "There could be legal action as well. He's sitting with the resource officer, now."
"The resource officer??" James recoiled. "He's in custody?"
But Mr. Rivers held up a paw to calm the young teacher, "No. He's just being held there until I send for him. Until he can speak with me. It's not like he's under arrest. And Brandon was treated just the same." He raised a derisive brow, "You know how this works, James."
"But you said there could be legal action."
"I did," the principal nodded. "At the very least, they'll both be facing disturbance of the peace charges...but, if the story I've been hearing is true..."
"The story?" James clarified: "You mean from Brandon?"
"And from Mr. Chaney," the polar bear corrected him. "And if it's true, Hunter could be facing assault charges."
Again, James recoiled, "Assault!?"
But finally, Mr. Rivers had grown restless, "James, why are you even here? What does this have to do with you?"
"I saw the fight happen," the raccoon answered...
...and his principal's eyes immediately shot open wide, "Oh! Well, why didn't you say so sooner?" He held out a beckoning paw, "If you have something to say that could help Mr. Thurman, then -- by all means -- do. What did you see?
"I was up on the promenade; the balcony?" James began. "And I saw Hunter and Elliot-"
"Elliot Masters?"
"Yes," he nodded. "They were near the trophy cases, when I saw Brandon storming toward them. It was hard to make out exactly what happened, but he got right up face-to-face with Hunter. And then, when I saw Hunter's friend, Mic-"
"This would be..." the polar bear looked down at the papers on his desk, "Michael Taylor?"
"Yes," again, James nodded. "When I saw him rushing over, I ran for the stairs."
"Looking to put a stop to the situation, before it could become..." Mr. Rivers flashed a wry grin, "...what it became?"
"Exactly," the raccoon met the grin with a dark little laugh. "But by the time I got there, it was already too late. The fight had already started, and Mr. Chaney was already pulling them apart."
And, at that, the principal could only sigh, in disappointment, "So then, you didn't see who struck first."
"I didn't have to. I saw Brandon initiate the whole thing," James contended...
...but the polar bear simply shrugged, "Unfortunately, that doesn't matter, James." He explained: "All that matters is who struck first. And both Brandon and Mr. Chaney say it was Hunter."
"Of course Brandon would say that!" James argued...
...but, in gentle timbre, Mr. Rivers responded: "And Mr. Chaney?"
The raccoon, to that, had little to say. He could toss around speculation and unfounded accusations...but even he didn't know what reason Mr. Chaney would have had to lie...
"I'm sorry," he shook his head, "I just don't believe Hunter would do that."
"Again: unfortunately, it doesn't matter what you believe, James. Only what you saw."
"What I saw?" The teacher shrugged, "Okay. Well, what I've seen is Brandon tormenting those boys! I've watched him pick on them, insult them, and bully them in every way BUT physically. I've seen him trying to ruin their lives!" And, of course, he knew he was bordering on the hyperbolic, now...but those pictures still circling the school, more than warranted a little melodrama. "And today? I saw him provoke this whole incident."
"And maybe those facts will matter in court," the polar bear crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "If you want to go talk to the resource officer, you have my blessing, James. But that can't matter here. A member of the faculty says he saw Hunter strike Brandon first. And that's all I care about."
But James pressed on, nonetheless, "Have you spoken to any other witnesses?"
"I will," Mr. Rivers met the question with one slow nod. "But James, no matter what, both Brandon and Hunter will be sent home, today. I will, of course, be speaking with every witness I can before a final disciplinary decision is made. This includes Elliot Masters, Michael Taylor, and -- from what I've been told -- our Finnish exchange student and a few of Brandon's friends." He shrugged, "But it is going to take a lot of students all saying that Brandon struck first, to overrule a member of the faculty. Hunter is usually a good kid. And I'd rather it not be the case, but it looks like he'll be getting suspended."
"So there's nothing I can do," the raccoon surmised.
"Not here."
"Okay." He nodded, albeit reluctantly, "I understand. I guess I'll go speak with the resource officer, then."
"While you're there, tell her to send Hunter my way."
"Yes sir," with that, the teacher turned and opened the door to leave. But...
"James?" the polar bear stopped him. "Good luck."
~
Elliot's fur clung to his body.
The weight of the water did that, after all. And it soothed him. It warmed him. It wasn't as hot as he would like, but it was warm enough. And at least he knew that, here, he could stay as long as he liked and it would never turn cold. At home, when he sought out the shower as an escape -- from her -- he didn't have that same luxury. But here, in this sprawling, empty, tiled room, he knew the warm water was nearly without end...
He didn't need a shower. He'd barely participated in gym. He seldom did, to be honest, and today he was in no mood to even try. He didn't need the shower, but he wanted it. The water held him, when there was no one else around who could. It washed away his morning. It soothed him. It warmed him.
And it covered up his tears.
But more importantly than any of that, he simply didn't want to go to lunch.
The last week had been a painful one. Seeing his mother day in, day out. Wincing at her every word: at every bludgeoning blow of her 'love.' Not getting to see his father. And struggling to hold on to their one last beautiful memory together.
But the little husky was pressing on. He told himself that this was only temporary. When he took the stand in court, and told the judge how much he hated his mother, and how he wanted more than anything to just go home to his father...the judge would listen. His mother would lose.
He told himself it was all temporary -- it would all pass -- even as his phone was taken away, as he was barred from the internet, and as, for four days in a row, he wasn't even allowed to go to school. He knew it would all be better. Because it had to be.
But when his certainty broke -- and break it did, time and again -- one thought pulled him along: that there was more to his life than her. Soon enough, she would have to let him go back to school. And for eight hours a day, five days a week, he could escape her! He wouldn't have to suffer her hateful love, hear her cooing degradations, or see her triumphant smile. Instead, he would be with his boyfriend, Hunter, and with their best friend, Mic. He would be accepted and loved. He would feel like he belonged.
But now...thanks to Brandon...
He'd lost even that.
He'd finally gotten to escape his mother. But for what? To get bullied at school? He had run from her bigotry, at home, only to come face-to-face with someone else's, here. And Hunter? Hunter tried to protect him. Tried to make this place remain the sanctuary it should have been. And what did it get him? What did it get them both? Hunter was suspended. For the next week, his only opportunity to see his tiger -- their time together at school -- even that was lost to him.
And this was why Elliot was here. Why he hid in the showers. Why he let the water hold, warm, and soothe him, when Hunter could not. He couldn't face the cafeteria and Brandon's friends. Couldn't face the judgmental stares of the student body.
Perhaps, come Monday, he would. He would venture out to lunch, and huddle close to Mic: to his last friend and protector. Because at least he still had the hyena. Mic, afterall, had only gotten involved in the fight to break it up. And he'd shouldered no punishment. So, at least he was still here.
But for today, Elliot would take the safety and seclusion of the showers. He would take this empty tiled expanse and its just-warm-enough water. He would be alone. And he would make believe that his sorrows were trickling away, down the drain. But, of course...
Clack!
Rattle. Creek...
The sounds of a locker. Damn-it! He wasn't alone. And the locker room? That was the only way in and out of the showers. His only retreat was blocked. He was trapped!
He tried to slow his heart. To still his breaths. And he poked his nose out, beyond the streaming water. If he concentrated hard enough, he could smell him. Maybe he could make out, from afar, just who this guy was. Especially if he was fresh from any sort of exercise.
He sniffed. He craned his neck and focused. Canine? Lupine? So hard to make out over the stale musk of a locker room. But it was definitely one of the two; he was sure of it. A dog or a wolf.
Oh, please. Please not a wolf. Not Brandon!
But no. No. It couldn't be Brandon. Brandon was gone. Calm down. Relax. Brandon was sent home, today, just like Hunter. But it could still be one of his friends. Who were those three he was always with? The horse...the bear...and the husky? That's it! Was he smelling a husky? No. Elliot would know that smell. He lived with that smell. And besides, in this town-
Clank!
The lockers again. Closing this time. Was he coming this way? No. Please. Don't come to the showers. This was supposed to be an escape. A safe haven. Whoever this was -- friend or foe -- just please go somewhere else.
But he didn't. No, Elliot heard the soft thump of bare paw pads on concrete, growing louder with every step. And then he heard a voice:
"Elliot?"
Elliot? He knew his name? But who was that? He didn't recognize that voice. How did this guy know him? How did he know he was here??
But the husky didn't respond to the call. He just waited in silence and watched the empty doorway, as the gentle thump of pad on cement, became the sharper tap of claw and pad on tile. And those feet, through what little steam there was, were the first thing Elliot saw.
Huge. Wide. Brown paws.
"Elliot? You in here?"
The voice called out again, as a thick, stocky form stepped into view. A German Shepherd...of a sort. Golden eyes. Oversized paws. And nearly completely black fur, save for the rich brown strokes of his cheeks; of his forearms, calves, & paws; and of his chest and stomach, trailing down to...
...to the heaviest hanging sheath Elliot had ever seen!
"Hi there!" the stranger yipped, again, and Elliot jerked his eyes away from the stocky male's impressive package.
He was prepared to defend himself, to apologize for his wandering eyes, but he was instead surprised to find the shepherd openly eyeing HIS nude form as well: scanning him head to toe.
"Elliot right?" the shameless intruder smiled.
"Yeah..." and the husky was tempted to hide himself from such blatant inspection, but he knew better to in a place like this. Modesty would get you picked on, just the same as prying eyes. "You, uhm...are you one of Brandon's friends?"
And the stranger laughed aloud, "Hardly!" as he boldly approached the smaller dog. "But, you know? I'm hopin' to be one o' yours."
"Hoping to be..." Elliot, though, tremored, feeling distinctly as if this were the set up for some sort of prank, "...my friend?"
"I am, at that! There's no need to be skittish. I, uhh...oh!" He stopped to extend a thick brown paw toward the trembling pup, "I should probably introduce myself before ya' pee!" And he waited there, with his expectant smile, and with his paw hovering in the air, "Come on now! Shake? I ain't afraid of a little water."
Reluctantly, Elliot reached out and took the paw.
"There ya' go!" The shepherd gripped and shook, "The name's Donald, by the way."
Donald? THE Donald??
"And Hunter tells me..." Donald tugged the husky by his paw and stepped in, quickly closing the gap and pulling them chest to chest, "...that you been wantin' to meet me."
~
And Sibirskaia continues...
* This particular chapter (and the rest of Sibirskaia) was written entirely by Oloroso Rhone. But it was based on characters and story lines I created jointly with my friend Phil Anthro Pist
If you'd like to go say hi to Phil, he's got an account on here at http://phil-anthro-pist.sofurry.com/ *
And we edge back into the story, and into the lives of The Masters and their extended circle of family and friends. Elliot is with his mother, and we've seen a glimpse of how he's coping. But what about Kris and Will? Hunter and Mic remain as Elliot's closest friends and his rocks, or at least they were until Brandon stuck his nose in and got Hunter suspended. But what will happen now that Hunter HAS been suspended? Will Elliot be safe? How will they see one another? And what about the remainder of our cast: Aaron, Stan, Scott, James, and Jeff? How is Jeff handling losing one of his only friends? And what lies in store for the rest?
But of course, all of these events and all the remaining questions pale before one fact:
Donald has finally debuted!
SIDE NOTE: Do YOU think Hunter struck first?
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See you around for the next 14 chapters of Sibirskaia!