The whirr of an engine, and the churrning of dirt can be heard as you wake in a head-throbbing daze. The immidiate surroundings are nothing but inky darkness, until you realize that there is a cloth sack over your head. You attempt to remove the obstruction only to be held back by the rope binding your arms. You shout while thrashing your arms in a helpless attempt to break the rope. A man screams some deafened jibberish at you and slams your gut with his rifle, causing you to lose your breath. "Fuck you... prick." You grumble as the pain sets in. You huddle inwards and quiet down to avoid more bludgenings from that fat bastard. As your hearing returns, you begin to take note of the many sounds around you. Seems like there are other prisoners in the truck, as groans of pain can be heard coming from different sources. There are two guards on benches across from each other shooting shit as they laugh at you and the others. The rumbling engine and stiff suspension prevent your ears from hearing the outside world. Tough, as you are growing to love the sounds of whatever these mongrels are hauling. Probably some new guns for their guys, or maybe some drugs. Whatever it is, it's not good for your boys back at the front. You begin to wonder how one of these chuckle fucks got the jump on your position. You'd been camping out in that foxhole for days, certain that no one had seen you set it up. Maybe they found you after that convoy you wiped out? Nah, unless you didn't finish off one of the guys. That elephant did need another round in his cranium. Tough guy, but no way he could speak after the first shot. Your thinking is abruptly ended as the driver shouts something to the guys in the back. The truck comes to a hault and the two guards start heaving their cargo, starting with you. They don't hesitate as they remove your cloth sack headwear and throw you out from the truck. The landing could've been more graceful, but you definitely do not mind a faceful of dirt and grass. Typical guardsman hospitality. You look up only to meet eye to eye with the barrel of a rifle. "No moving, or I shoot." The geared feline says as he pokes you with the rifle. Like you had any other plans. The other prisoners are vacated from the truck with about as much care as a china glass in a wind tunnel. There is a badger, some kind of fauna that you can't bother naming, and another human, all male. You're all on the dirt, belly down with armed men ready to shoot you. "Gentlemen" a voice comes from behind the armed men. "I am certain you all know why you're here and what is about to happen? Yes?" "Why do you all hate me?" A jaguar comes into view. He has a solid build and is wearing military attire. A red badge can be seen over his breast pocket. His headfur is neatly combed and he speaks with calm authority. "Well? Why do you rebellious belligerant types always try to break my stuff? It is almost like you are children trying to oppose their father." He walks around the men, coming to a stop in front of you and leans down "And you've all been some very naughty children." He grabs your face and gives you a nice punch to the jaw. Your ears ring as he continues his monologue to the rest of the prisoners. You see him pull out a chrome plated object and you focus as he shoots the other human in the head. He moves to the fauna. "You can't ever seem to realize..." he shoots the fauna in the head. And moves to the badger "...That like the good father I am..." he shoots the badger right next to you. The blood splatters onto your face. You begin to shake as he moves slowly towards you. He presses the barrel of his chrome pistol to your head. "...I know what is best for my children..." Welcome to the country of Qyra. Who would ever willingly live here?... "C'mon Anon! My grandma wants us to visit her for the summer!" Your jackal wife, Anika, exclaims as she tugs on your shirt. You've both been married for 5 years now, her enthusiasm grows with every day as does your appreciation of her slender figure. You wonder how she kept it through the first pregnancy. She stands about nose high to you, with a small bust, slim waist and surprisingly wide hips. You two have known each other since you were babies, your parents let the both of you play all the time. She has always been the bubbly and jovial one, she actually knocked you around a lot when you were young. You begin to reminisce about the months before your marriage. How excited you two were, even though the main event was at least half a year away. All that talk of baby-making. Hand holding on the boardwalk... "Ground to doofus, we have a minor break in comms, over *KRRCH*" she says in a goofy operator voice, feigning a walky-talky in her hand. "We have a whiney baby in the other room and I just asked you a question, do I copy? Over *KRRCH*" You snap out of the daydream as she smiles at you. She walks off, wiggling her tail at you as she leaves the room. "Roger ground control, you copy. I see two moons in orbit over *KRRCH*" This gets a giggle out of her as she tends to the baby. You follow in tow, catching a peak at nature's beauty. There in his mother's arms is your son, Elias. He has a gorgeous blonde and silver coat like his mother. His eyes open and sparkle like emeralds in a sea of milk, he takes after his father's looks that's for sure. "So whaddya say we leave the little one with my sister and we take ourselves a vacation?" She says with tenderness in her amber eyes. "You sure he'll be alright? You know how anxious he gets when we're not around." You pull up a chair across from her. "Last time we left him with someone he was pouty for a whole week." "That's because the babysitter didn't do a good job. He fed him formula instead of the milk I left!" This jogs your memory of the milking. It was a very fun, very sexy, yet very tedious exercise. Especially with her small chest. "Ani he was a kid. I'm sure he was uncomfortable handling a woman's breastmilk." You chuckle "But, I'm sure your sister will do a better job. She has taken care of her many children, I'm sure ours won't be much different."