FSE

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The world around him seamed to burn, not with some hell fire, but it felt like it under the relentless dessert sun. The flames didn't help either, slowly several trucks burned, bodies littered near by covered in the choking white fog of burning phosphorous. The last of the company's humvees sat there pouring dark smoke into the sky. Private Allan stumbled on through the carnage barely aware but he kept moving, knowing to stop would mean death, the simple thought to survive carried him forward with each step.

His BDUs were torn and strained, caked with sweet, blood, and the black grime that always came with combat. His IBA, that blessed vest, had stopped shrapnel from the IED that had taken the 5 ton truck from under him, then all the rockets that seemed to pour from the walls of the canyon itself. In that mess he had grabbed his weapon, ripped the light pack with his mortar gear from the cab, running for his life, cover, to find his section in the chaos.

All of it was over. His eyes burned from the fumes and his own sweet blurring his vision. His M4 clutched in hands curled like claws with the strain of moving forward, out of this hell, and way from the scattered enemy he knew would regroup to finish what they had started. His mind still refused to face the facts of what had happened; all he had was the drive to make it over the ridge, get his bearings, and run south. Friendlies were to the south Just a few klicks. He could make it. All he could do was make it.

Stopping meant death...

Giving up meant death...

No one said he could stop...

No one said he could die...

Just a few klicks and he could stop, drop the base plate strapped to his pack.

It was useless...

The rest of the mortar was with the dead...

His company...

His friends...

His shoulder hurt were an AK round had hit, probably through the base plate...

There wasn't much blood. He had checked. The bullet was lodge in his vest.

Through the base plate, then the vest plate...

Dimly it came to him, armor piercing, those @#$%ing towel heads had black tip rounds.

Keep moving forward...

His GPS was acting all screwy but it said he was still moving south. Finally the heat went away, the sun was setting, and no one was following. He checked the map, then his grid on the GPS; just a few more klicks to friendlies or the boarder. Neither mattered just getting to one or the other did.

His eyes drooped shut every other step as he saw flashes of light: red, green. Tracers? No there was purple, pink, and blue. It was a hallucination. Check the map, GPS, head south. It became light again and still he kept walking sipping only enough water to wet his lips. Goggles down and his face wrapped against the sand. One step. Next step. One step. Next step. Darkness, then light, darkness, then light; was it days or just the flashes of flares, bombs? Darkness again then shadows, not rocks or shrubs something taller but the word wouldn't make it to the surface. He tried to say it but the word just failed.

Light again but not the sun or moon, it flickered and hummed not far ahead. A street light, thank God a city!

Then there was a scream and some yelling. His eyes widened, the rush hit, and he ran forward his weapon held low and ready. Danger, a threat! He had to take care of it. The shadows parted and he saw them. A man struggling with a woman. Knife held to her throat, another man, possibly her boyfriend, yelling and holding up his hands pleading. Allan was in the darkness. It was his ally. His friend. His protection. He was a soldier and he alone owned the night.

Weapon, steady aim, the glowing chevron of his ACOG scope centered on the forehead of the knife wielder, "Drop the weapon, hands up now!" A shout, the knife pointed towards him. A flash and the loud retort of his carbine. Then a dark halo of red out the back of the knife wielder's head as he twitched, then slumped to the ground.

The woman fainted, the other man dropped to his face and stayed there. Allan slung his carbine and pulled his berretta rushing forward to kneel down on the back of the man's neck, pulling out a pair of zip cuffs, and binding him. Then he went to the woman to check her first he patted her pockets then rolled her over. He stopped, the face of a skunk looked dully up at him, feminine and all too human.

Allan kneeled there rocking a bit not sure what to make of it. He looked over at the man and a wolf stared back, silent but questioning. Allan' face wrap slipped away along with a bit of his sanity. All the questions were obvious, clichéd even, so they both skipped the questions and went to the answers.

"Your in America, near Pittsburg, PA, I'm a wolf, and the year is 2006," said the grey furred wolf, clearly, calmly, and with a bit of patience. Allan nodded, looking around for a moment, then put his side arm away and motioned wordlessly to the man, wolf, he had no clue how to define anything at the moment.

"I won't do anything if you let me go. We can talk this out, ok?

Allan nodded to that and moved back over to the wolf, pulling a pair of cuff snips and freeing the, person? Sitting back on his heels he stared at the wolf who looked back almost as worried and confused but not hostile. Then a couple of words came back to him: America, Pittsburg. His brain slowly worked its way around the jumble to, Safety. He slumped back still sitting up because mostly of his pack and the darkness took him.

Brandon rubbed his wrist and sat there for a moment staring at the strange creature before him. He had never seen the like. He knew the uniform, he could swear he recognized the unit patch, but it was just a bit surreal to him how his girlfriend was rescued as if spelled by fate that she wasn't to be harmed.

"Oh, God. Linda!" quickly he ran over to cradle her in his lap, brushing her short black hair from her eyes. "Baby please wake up, you're alright, its over." As he stroked her cheek as a soft but groggy groan escaped her lips.

"Where, what?" then her eyes sprang open. "Brandon, what happened?" she curled into his chest as sobs of fear over took her. "Shh, baby its over, the mugger's taken care of, nothing bad is going to happen." He quietly tried to sooth her, rubbing her back, as her sobs slowly faded. Quietly as she calmed down he looked her over making sure that the little bit of blood in her fur was just splatter and nothing more "What happened, what did you do to him?"

That startled Brandon, he was so worried about Linda he forgot about their savior. "I didn't do anything, a guy, ah soldier, just walked out of the trees and ..." he was just a little hesitant to say it because he didn't want to shock Linda more than she already was. "Linda, he shot the mugger, between the eyes." Her eyes went wide at that.

"Don't worry, it was clean, but I think we have something just a little more pressing then that right now." Slowly the wolf stood up and helped the skunk to her feet. "What do you mean?" she asked with just a little bit of a quaver in her voice. "You just have to see it Linda," with that Brandon lead her over to the sleeping form of Allan. It took her a few moments to understand what she was seeing, "My God, Brandon what is he?" The wolf shook his head.

"I couldn't tell you, but I do know that he saved you and we need to help him now," the wolf moved away from the still slightly stunned skunk and knelt down to take stock of this stranger. "Look at him. Its like he just walked out of a war zone." Brandon took note of the hollow cheeks, sunken eyes, and parched lips. "A long way out."

Slowly Linda moved closer placing a hand on the wolf's shoulder, "What should we do? He looks in serious need of help. He needs a doctor, some sort of professional."

"What do you imagine we will tell them Linda? Hey this sounds strange but this soldier who isn't from any species on the whole globe just showed up, could you fix him up and give us the bill. Oh, yeah, when are visitor hours?" Brandon shook his head, "No we can't say a thing. You ever seen how they treat those people in circus side shows? It would be ten times worse."

She wrung her hands for a moment before kneeling down beside Brandon, "Then what?"

The wolf thought on this for a moment then sighed, "First we get him out of here, next get him healthy, then we will figure out what to do from there." First Brandon tried pulling the soldier up by his vest, but he seamed to weight a ton. Shorter then the tall wolf and not a thickly built man, Allan proved much heavier than he seemed. Brandon gave a frustrated sigh then, started removing Allan's gear. Once he had it all off now came the problem of getting it to his car out near the park's entrance.

He rifled through the pack for a moment before finding a spare uniform and a poncho. "Ok these will do just fine," he said as he got to work removing the unconscious man's shirt. The skunk started to help just a little confused. "What are we doing Brandon?"

"We have to carry him out of the Park and I don't think it would look too good with all the blood and tears his shirt has." He took the carbine and wrapped it first in the shirt and the spare pants then the poncho. Linda struggled to put the clean shirt on before Brandon helped prop their charge up.

"Linda I need you to stay here with him while I go to put this in the car, then I'll be back and we can see if we can carry him back." She nodded and watched him go, the silence of the park working on her nerves, expecting something else strange to happen any minute. Brandon came back, a towel in hand. "Lets get him ready to move," with that he pulled Allan to his feet and did his best to hold him upright as he pulled the unconscious man's arm over his shoulder as Linda supported Allan under the other arm. Brandon handed the towel to Linda as he pulled a cap from his pocket roughly getting it on Allan's head.

"What's this for," she asked confused. "I saw a few other people in the park and we need to hide his face. Just pretend your cleaning his face as if he had just made a mess of himself." The sunk nodded at that as they headed off, at first dragging Allan along until his feet remember that he needed to walk and helped them with his own weak stumbling.

It wasn't long before other visitors in the park started passing them with a few strange looks and unspoken questions. Eventually a couple of helpful furs offered assistance but Brandon and Linda waved them off saying they could handle their hard partying friend. They fairly poured Allan into the back seat of Brandon's car before speeding out of the park.

"Ok I'll take him to my house first since it's outside the city then I'll get you home." Linda shook her head, "No, I'm going to stay with you. You can't possibly handle him by yourself." She looked down, "Besides after all this I don't want to be anywhere by my self, my nerves just couldn't take it." Brandon couldn't really argue the point with her without making a larger mess of things than they already were. "Alright but try to keep your distance from him. Even if he saved your life and possibly mine, he still killed someone and... well that just makes him too dangerous to be trusted." She wrapped her arms around his, "I know Brandon."

The rest of their drive was uneventful as they sat quietly listening to the un-intellible groans of their passenger as he shakily grasped at the air several times before falling silent again. Once at Brandon's house they found it as equally difficult to maneuver the man inside as it had been to just to get him from the park, but finally they had him changed into better cloths and firmly placed in a guest bed.

Brandon sighed heavily scratching behind an ear, "I'm not sure..." he let the rest of his thought go unsaid as he turned to Linda. "Go ahead and get some sleep hun, I'm going to stay up and watch him, just to make sure nothing unexpected happens." She nodded at that and moved off to the bed room while Brandon took a seat watching their guest.

* * *

Over several days they slowly tried to nurse Allan back to health, but it seamed what ever drive had moved him to their aid was gone and had left a near lifeless shell in its place. They made sure to keep him and the bedding clean while waking him from his ever present sleep to try and pass a small amount of broth pass his lips. After a week Brandon was almost ready to try and call some friends with more experience or a professional. With no changes to his health they left Allan alone to sleep at nights, and would trade off time during the days to make sure he was still alright while fringing the need to run important errands.

Then one morning Brandon woke to the pleasant smell of a warm breakfast cooking. Rolling over he found Linda still fast asleep pressed closed to his side. After a few blurry moments of thought he sprang swiftly from the bed rushing through the house to the kitchen. Reaching it a cold shudder went down his spine seeing their guest frying eggs while shakily using a large knife to cut sausage links. It wasn't the knife that frightened Brandon so much as the way it was clinched tightly in one fist, shoulders stooped in concentration as every move with the knife was slow and forced.

Keeping his distance Brandon gently rapped on the wall. With the slow determination of someone who is only being held up by willpower, Allan turn to regard the wolf out of the corner of his eye before turning back to the skillet with a soft but frustrated growl. Slowly Brandon licked his lips before speaking, "I see you got tired of sleeping." Allan moved his shoulders a fraction of an inch. Brandon hoped it was just a noncommittal shrug. "Do you want any help?" Brandon received that same hard glance that bore through him as if Allan was looking at something outside, straight through the wall.

"Brandon, what's the matter," said Linda sleepily, startling Brandon and causing Allan to visibly tense. Her eyes went wide as she took in the situation and took hold of Brandon's arm. Brandon watched the knife as he patted her paws, "Nothing's the matter it just seams that our guest has decided to make breakfast for himself this morning." Allan scrutinized them for several minutes before turning back to the counter to set the knife down carefully and unclenched his hands with the same slow purpose. With a couple of slight jerks he took up the skillet and served the eggs onto several plates before he started on the sausage.

Quietly Linda moved past Brandon waving away his concerns as she moved next to their guest. "Here let me," Linda said as she took over, gently but firmly removing the spatula and skillet from his hands. Allan looked at her for just a moment before taking up the plates and stetting the table. Brandon took his own seat across from their guest and felt that same cold shudder as Allan look through him again.

Inwardly Allan sighed and moved on with his goals for the day, his hands moved sluggishly and he had to be overly careful just to keep from making a mess. Finally the quiet got to him as the skunk served some of the sausage.

"Thank you," was all his dried and gravely throat could manage. Linda smiled as a bit of nervousness crept into her voice, "Your welcome, we try to help those in need." Allan clinched his hand on the fork a bit tighter as his mind sluggishly moved through a slew of appropriate responses. Finally he settled on something neutral, "Like wise. May I have some milk?" Brandon looked askance at Linda who shook her head. "Ok, juice then," said Allen, his pulse was pounding in his ears with the effort of just staying awake and eating let alone the fear he felt of them and from them.

They ate in silence for a bit more with the skunk putting most of the extra food on his plate. Again the silence was deafening, "What happens now?" He could see that the wolf was having trouble meeting his eyes and that made him a little suspicious. He kept a firm grip on his fork as he quickly glanced around him.

"I don't know. What can we do?" said Brandon as he laced his finger together on the table. Allan focused on him again, come up with a plan and execute, was his first thought: "Your not going to hand me over to anyone are you?" The wolf had the decency to look shocked and it was believable, "Are you kidding? I couldn't think of anything crueler! I mean you could be dangerous but that is no excuse to have you put away like some freak." Allan broke into a slightly manic giggle, that frankly did scare them, but it was a relief to him that they were just as scared as he was.

Slowly he the giggle broke into tears and sobs as he laid his head on the table shaking, "Thank you." Brandon and Linda glanced to each other before Brandon removed his plate as Linda slowly rubbed and patted Allan's back. "Should we move him back to the bed?"

Brandon shook his head, "No let him work a bit of this off first." Allan fought for control of his emotions, sucking a few breaths between his teeth as stars speckled at the edges of his vision. Taking a deep breath then growling it out he gripped the edge of the table and sat up. Brandon patted his shoulder, "Ok, Allan lets get you back to bed."

"Huh?" he looked up at the wolf just slightly confused. "Your name's Allan, right? It was on your uniform," said Brandon as he hooked a paw under his arm.

Allan looked down, "Tod."

"Excuse me?"

Allan took a deep breath, "Call me Tod."

Linda furrowed her brow, "Todd, like a fox cub?" He shook his head a tight grin on his face, "I wish. No, like the German word for death. One D, not two." Now their reservations were returning. Tod waved a hand dismissively, "It was a clerical error on my birth certificate." Both of them smiled slightly in relief. "Who are you two any ways?" he said as he lifted hid head up again to look them in the eyes.

"Oh, right! I'm Brandon and as you have noticed a wolf and this is my girlfriend Linda, a skunk." He said motioning to each of them in turn. "If you don't mind, what are you?"

"Human" that said Tod pushed himself to his feet shakily and had to keep a grip on the table, still feeling weak. With some help he was directed back to the guest bed. Tod passed out almost as soon as he hit the sheets. With a bit of concern Linda put a hand on Tod's shoulder as he slipped into a rhythmic if slightly ragged breathing, "This is more than a little disquieting."

"Him being," Brandon screwed up his face a little around the new word, "human?" Linda shook her head as she moved over to Brandon, "No, just how he acts and moves. One moment he's scaring the life out of us by being up and now look at him. Its as if he's comatose." Brandon put his arm around her shoulders and gave a slight squeeze, "Give him time. I think that we just saw some of the strength that brought him through his terrible ordeals and delivered him here, but what's left is fleeting at that."

* * *

As the days passed by Tod got more of his strength back and he knew things would come to a head soon. Though Brandon and Linda did their best to make him feel welcome in small ways, he knew that he didn't belong in their world, let alone Brandon's house. Even if he wasn't at a hundred percent, Tod couldn't help feeling restless. He wanted to leave but he knew that the walls that confined him were also his refuge from a world that had every possibility of being just as cruel as his own. He also figured that he must be putting more than a social strain on his host. Nothing came for free and he could well imagine the expenses.

He felt powerless to change things but that was just in his mind. Damn it, he had passed army escape and evasion training. He knew enough odds and ends about survival to make it just about anywhere and he had no personal problems with roughing it but he was stuck in a city. He had to consider the locals hostile and was receiving aid from a couple who he could only consider as circumstantial allies at best and at worst their hostage.

Laying in bed he made up his mind, it was time for him to figure where things balanced and apply the right pressure to shift the situation more in his favor. He could hate himself for thinking this way, but he couldn't leave anything up to chance. He had to force the situation. He had to make it seam to Brandon that helping him was the only option. Tod knew he would have to play Brandon's conscience and make him feel too guilty to hand him over to authorities. It made the bile in his stomach rise having to justify this to himself, but he was a survivor. He always put his survival first when it finally came down to the hard line decisions.

Tod just wished that he had a way to hold on just as strongly to some of his other convictions: his sense of duty and loyalty. Who was he kidding, right now his duty was to himself and there was no one left to be loyal too. Right now he was lost behind enemy lines and he needed something to hold on to. If it meant holding onto anger, stubbornness, and an unwillingness to lay down and die, then so be it.

* * *

Over the weeks Tod made an effort to treat Brandon's house as if it was his own home, more to the fact that everything was normal and there for safe to ignore. He moved around Linda and Brandon as if they were furniture and only ever acknowledge them when directly engaged in conversation. More to the point he made it clear that he wasn't interested in any of their personal affairs.

It was a ruse, but an easy one. He knew that as long as he feigned a lack of interest they would start talking more easily about more important matters; in time they would un-wittingly slip and revel to him the leverage he needed. One afternoon that opportunity came.

He was quietly working out in his room when he heard a growl of frustration come from the hall. Not stopping he slowed a bit to better listen for what might have caused it.

Brandon was frustrated and it showed he paced up and down the hall to his home office racking his brain, but he couldn't find an answer to the problem he was facing. Brandon didn't even notice as the front door opened and Linda had come over as usual for lunch. Lately she said it was to keep Tod a little company, but that was just a weak excuse for her to be there and hopefully bump into Brandon if it was one of the rare days he worked from home.

Seeing how upset Brandon was, Linda quietly walked up behind him and slipped her arms around the wolf's waist, "What's wrong?"

Brandon put his paws over hers and sighed as she leaned into his back, Nothing, its just..." He trailed off as he took a claming breath hanging his head a little, "My business is slowly going down the drain and I can't stop it. I thought we were making a profit but accounting keeps showing us in the red each quarter and if this keeps up I'm going to either have to sell out to another firm or declare bankruptcy."

Linda gave his waist a squeeze, "Don't worry, I know your strong enough to pull through this." She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, "You've pulled your company through tough times before so I know your going to make it." Brandon turned around in her arm and held her, "Your too good at that." Linda smiled back innocently, "At what?"

Brandon grinned as he rubbed his muzzle against hers, "At making everything seam so simple."

Tod had stopped his workout and sat on the floor listening. He had found where he could apply leverage but part of him rebelled against the easiest and natural course, whish would press Brandon to ruin. He couldn't help but feel that no matter how alien they were in looks and some times in mannerisms, they were still good people and in many ways as human as him. Lapsing into thought he started a long set of sit-ups, deciding to leave the couple to their private moments.

* * *

Later that night Tod waited until Brandon was fast asleep before he walked into the wolf's office and started looking around. Picking a few papers at random he skimmed through the contents: expense reports, services, fees, income, and accounts. Looking at the header of an accounting sheet he saw that Brandon's business in question was a computer technology firm: Silver Streak Ind.

Tod was no accountant but he knew numbers and equations, it didn't hurt that he could make even a calculus problem dance. He reviewed the figures time and again but part of him said it just didn't add up. He couldn't see where but he knew that something was missing. He took several clean sheets of paper from the printer and decided to put all the information in a format he could more easily understand.

For the next week he went to work in Brandon's office when ever the wolf was away or was going to be thoroughly occupied with other matters. Tod was careful to make sure that Brandon never caught on to exactly what he was up to. He planted fake notes to himself and various scribbled bits of ideas that would only turn up as gibberish if put together. He was vary careful to place everything back where it belonged and even took care to wear gloves so he wouldn't leave a sent trail just in case the wolf's senses where that good.

Finally he figured he had a handle on what was happening at Silver Streak and now he needed to figure out how to let Brandon know.

As the world is want to do, Brandon had a surprise of his own before Tod could present his findings to the wolf. Tod was enjoying an early lunch when the phone rang, he checked to see who was calling before picking up the receiver, "Yes Brandon?"

"Hey Tod I'm going to be coming by the house in an hour and I would like you to get cleaned up before I get there," said Brandon somewhat muffled as if he was trying to balance the phone and several other things from the background noise. Tod looked at the phone for a moment wondering what the wolf was getting at, "Ok? Anything else?"

"Yeah, I want you to wear the sweater Linda got you yesterday and a pair of gloves from my dresser," some soft cursing followed the sound of paperwork spilling. Tod was just a bit curious and perplexed as he looked outside at the bright sunshine, "Am I going some where decidedly cooler than here?"

"What? Oh, no. It's just, well. Just do it please I will explain everything when I get there, ok?" Tod really couldn't think of how to argue with this stranger than normal request, "Alright, see you then." He didn't wait for a reply before hanging up. He did as Brandon had asked and waited patiently in the living room as he went over a few details of his work in looking through Silver Streak's accounting.

His back was to the door when he heard it open. Tod turned expecting to see Brandon and stopped a bit stunned when a mouse walked in. He was caught so by surprise that he didn't think to duck out of view of her. That's when he noticed that she wasn't looking at him, or much of anything for that matter. Brandon came in behind her and waved to Tod, one of his patented grins stuck to his muzzle.

Tod slowly got up, a hard questioning look on his face as he silently moved toward them. Brandon gently took the mouse's arm and led her in. To Tod it was obvious she was blind, but he didn't see any of the cataractic whiteness of a birth defect or the miss directed eyes of someone who's condition had persisted for a long time, her eyes just stared straight ahead. He filed those facts away for later.

A quick glance brought the rest of the details together. She was fit but not athletic by any means and slightly shorter than him. Her pelt was a soft grey, uniform in appearance, well kept, and with no scars. Her blond hair was pulled back into a long braid and her eyes were a shade of blue that Tod found strangely deeper than should be normal.

Again he looked at Brandon questioningly then went back to inspecting their guest. Her outfit was just a simple knit shirt and snug jeans that her natural endowments filled out nicely to anyone's standards. Tod wasn't sure how to judge the looks of her face but he was reasonably certain that she...wait. A few extra gears in Tod's mind came into play and he glared even harder at Brandon, surprising the wolf so much that he took a step back.

Brandon smiled a bit uneasily but it didn't show in his voice, "Cindy I would like you to meet the friend I was telling you about." After the long and uneasy silence her face lit up. "Oh, hello Todd," she said with an easy smile and an out reached hand. Tod understood the gloves now as he took her hand and gently shook it, "Hello Cindy." Tod looked hard at Brandon again but the easy grin was back as he guided Cindy into taking Tod's arm.

She slightly reached her hand for his face, "May I? It's the only way I can figure out how you look." Tod tenses but kept from flinching as he pushed her hand back down, "I would rather that you didn't." She nodded tilting her head down her ears dipping down, "Brandon told me that you were a little sensitive about your looks." Tod almost felt ready to throttle the wolf if he wasn't so dependant on him, "What exactly has he told you?"

She tilted her head back up as she tried to look him in the face, "Just that you lost your fur." Cindy looked a bit abashed at her statement, "I'm sorry, but he did say that you were hansom in your own way." She said as a shy smile crept up on her. Tod knew he was going to throttle Brandon, he just needed an opportunity, "I don't think you would have that opinion if you saw me."

Again her blind stare searched for his eyes, "I don't know. Brandon didn't really tell me how it happened so I can't image how you would look." Tod thanked God for small favors, "Lets just say it was a less than pleasant experience." Tod gently led her to the couch and made sure she was seated comfortably before taking a seat opposite in the recliner. Again he glared at the wolf hoping to make him squirm but all Brandon had was that mirthful look in his eyes at watching someone else in the hot seat.

"If you don't mind me asking, what are you? Brandon wasn't very forthcoming," she said with a bit cheerfulness that could almost be infectious. Tod had strong immunities, "Hu...Fox." It had almost slipped but she didn't seam to notice, "Its strange that parents would name a fox Todd." A slightly sarcastic smile crept onto his face, "My parents thought it was clever and also a hope for my future." Then he mumbled out, "If not for the clerical error."

"Future? Clerical error?" damn her hearing was that good. Tod sighed a little then said with a total dead pan, "In the Queen's English, Todd, just doesn't mean a fox cub; it also means intelligence and cunning. Unfortunately my first name is spelled T O D, which is the German word for death."

"Oh I get it, a clerical error on your birth certificate," then a bit of embarrassment caught up with her, "I'm sorry I didn't mean to be so rude with your name." He just waved a hand then remembered she couldn't see it, "Don't worry, just call me Allan. Its easier on the jokes and misunderstandings." She smiled again, he imagined that it was in relief from being let out of the unintentional faux pas.

"Again if you don't mind me asking," she said a bit shyly as kind concern crept into her words, "How did you loose your fur?" Lies are hard to keep so Tod skirted the edge of the truth, "It was in combat over in the middle east." Giving an appropriate pause for "painful recollection" he went on, "A combination of white phosphorous and diesel fuel burned me across 90% of my body." Thinking back on the true events brought a shudder to his voice, "Mmm...most of my muzzle aa...and tail were removed in surgery." The last part barely above a whisper as the screams of the dying and those who had truly burned alive in that hellish ambush came back to him.

Tod closed his eyes as he fought back against that terrible day only he survived in the most bizarre of fashion. He wanted so badly to forget his failures at protecting his friends, his comrades, and for being too cowardly to die in that sun scorched hell of explosions and gunfire. He was shocked out of the memories by a hand on his shoulder then by his hands being drawn away from where they were clinched to his face. Cindy smiled reassuringly, "I'm sorry for brining up such difficult memories."

Distantly a part of him just wanted to be comforted, to have that reassuring feeling of someone holding him, telling him that it was all over, and that he could let go but, that wasn't him and this wasn't the time. Slowly he pulled his hands away to wipe his face as Tod realized that he had been crying. Putting some cold strength back into his voice, "Thank you, I'm fine now." Cindy smiled again as her hand reached for his face but Tod sat back and took her hand. She looked a little sadden for it but Cindy nodded in understanding as she stood up.

Tod looked at Brandon questioningly again. Brandon was still grinning and Tod would have been embarrassed if he had allowed it but instead he just raised an eyebrow.

"Well I think its time that I should tell you why I brought Cindy over," said Brandon as he moved from around the back side of the couch. Brandon guided Cindy back to her seat before taking a seat himself, "Cindy here works for my company and as you can tell she's blind. Also she just lost her apartment. So I've invited her to stay here until she gets back on her feet. So, since you're not yet ready to go out, I thought that you two could keep each other company."

"How exactly is Cindy going to keep me company?" Tod asked then though a little wiser of his words, "I imagine she would be going with you to work in the mornings." Brandon grinned even wider, "I'm allowing Cindy to tele-commute for the time being." Tod sighed then stood up, "In that case I better find a sleeping bag so I can set up in the utility room." Cindy looked a bit distressed, "Brandon you said everything would work out. I'm not about to..." Brandon coughed softly to cut her off mid sentence, "No need for you to move Tod. There's a roll away twin bed under the guest bed and you two can share the room."

Though it didn't show through his icy stare, Tod wanted to throw something.

"I think that's a great idea," said Cindy cheerfully as Tod could only look at her a bit shocked. "From what Brandon's told me, your too much of a gentleman to look and I can't see what you have to show. So I don't see any problems with it," she finished with a slight giggle at her own pun. Tod sighed as his shoulders slumped, he figured he wasn't going to win this over her enthusiasm and Brandon's reasoning. He could tell when he had been set up.