>Love and hate, friendship and despair, trust and betrayal - come spend a night on the wild side. You awoke to a throbbing headache and an extreme thirst. Opening your eyes, you realize you’re not in your bed at your suburb apartment - no, this is a nice, scenic downtown studio, and a very nice leather couch. Wait, what did I do last night? you think, fumbling around on the floor for your shoes. Who’s loft is this? Where did I go? Last night’s a bit of a blur, but you start to recall going to the bar with a coworker, pissing off some older dude, then- “Oh, hey, you’re awake!” A female voice calls out, making you jump. You look around for the source of the voice but can’t see anyone. You ask, “Uh, yeah, I’m up. What’s, er, where am I, exactly?” “You’re at my place, silly!”, she exclaims. Before being able to clarify further, she continues, “I just got out of the shower, let me get ready then we’ll grab something for breakfast.” Breakfast? You look around to get your bearings of the place - it’s a spacious little joint, bearing a connected kitchen and front room, with little in the way of decór. Besides the couch, there’s a glass coffee table with a handful of magazines on it, all relating to cooking and housekeeping. A few paintings dot the otherwise sparse, cream-colored walls. The kitchen itself has an island defining the boundary between it and the front room, and the walls have the expected assortment of machinery and cabinets, all of it high-end. The clock on the oven reads 9:19, and guessing from the light coming in from the glass-paned outer wall, you assume it to be in the AM. To kill some time, you reach down and check your phone for anything you might’ve missed from your friends, but you’re caught off guard by the total lack of signal. Before you can make a note of it, your friend chimes out, “Okay, ready when you are!”, and walks out of her room. The first thing that catches you off guard is her ears, making her look at least six inches than the top of her flowing hair suggests. They’re long, with a ruddy-brown fur covering the outside of them, and ending in little black tips. After that, you notice her long snout gently tapering out of the front of her head, ending in a pair of rose-colored lips and a black, moist nose. Her eyes are emerald-green, and accented by her dark eyelashes and thin, dark eyebrows. She actually manages to look pretty cute to you, better than any of your exes even. She’s sporting a bright green t-shirt, further accenting her eyes, along with a pair of blue jeans, ruddy tail poking out from behind her back, and some flip-flops under her canine-like feet. Despite the place, she hardly seems the type for being fancy. “Something wrong, hun?” You catch yourself with your jaw wide open and stammer, “Uh, n-no, all fine here. Miss, uh…?” You motion your hand for her to continue as she looks at you, confused. “Daphne, remember?” “Oh, right, must’ve forgot,” you lie. “So, where are we going for breakfast?” You can’t help but stare, bewildered, at the people passing you by on the street. Well, at least some of them are people, as you would know. The rest, maybe 9/10ths by a rough estimate, have all different assortments of faces, furs and extremities that belong to animals. Some of the creatures tower well above the rest by a few heads, while other you could easily mistake for children playing grown-up. “Hey, you alright?” Daphne inquires. “You’ve been acting all weird since this morning.” “Yeah, just feeling a bit queasy from last night,” you lie further through your teeth, “I just need some food, y’know?” The two of you continue walking downtown, and you take in the fresh, early spring air. It’s chillier than you expected, and you curse yourself under your breath for not bringing a jacket. “So, this café…” “Gabby’s Grub?” she continues over you, “Voted best-in-town for breakfast by the papers 4 years in a row. Omelettes and hashbrowns to die for, and the in-house coffee?” She moans in anticipation. “Trust me, you're going to love it.” You shrug and look at her, replying, “Hey, if you like it so much, I’m bound to dig it, too.” The diner, like the walk to it, is definitely an odd site for you to comprehend. It looks like any other diner you’ve been to - metal siding, tacky neon sign and all - but what’s different are the people and food inside it. Oddly enough there’s not a hint of beef or pork in the entire place; save the bovine girl taking your order, that is. The waitress has white fur covering as much skin as you can see, with black splotches on her wrists and ears, and she’s sporting a retro, 50’s maid-type dress with a big front pocket filled with pens. “So that’s a number 3, a number 6 with extra hash, and two OJ’s, right?” the waitress recounts. “Yup, thanks Ellie,” Daphne replies as she hands over her menu. You do the same and give the waitress a nod and a thanks. “I’ll be out with your orders soon,” she replies as she heads back for the kitchen. “So,” Daphne asks over the din of chatter and pop music on the jukebox, “What did you and Tim get off to last night? Heard things got weird at the bar. Something about some old guy or something?” “Oh, um,” you stall, trying to jog your memory, “I’m actually not too sure. Must’ve pounded one too many beers last night, I guess,” you continue, forcing a weak laugh. She shrugs and sighs, fiddling with her phone. That’s odd, you’re really drawing a blank on what happened last night. You start recalling as much as you can starting after work; you got home, called Tim, went to the bar, got increasingly drunk, spilled some beer on this old guy… Wait, the old guy. Perhaps… Your train of thought is once again interrupted, this time by a stack of flapjacks, hashbrowns, an omelette and a basket of biscuits. “Smells delicious as always, Ellie. My compliments to the chef,” Daphne remarks licking her jowls. Elle giggles and says, “I’ll pass ‘em on, hun,” trotting to another booth of customers. “I’m still having a tough time recalling everything from yesterday, could you enlighten me on your evening, perhaps?” you coo in between bites of your omelette; you have to give it to Daphne, this place does have some good eats. She fills you in on what she’s been up to, including getting the last chapter of book typed out and ready to proofread, seeing a few of her (and your, confusingly) acquaintances at the market and catching up on some TV shows she’s been meaning to binge. “Other than all that, it’s been quiet on the homefront so far,” she finishes, concealing a belch in her napkin. “So, got your head screwed on right?” “I think so,” you ask yourself, trying to clear the haze of last night. You can definitely recall the old man now; he had a glass eye, some eastern-european accent you can’t entirely pin down, and he said… something that made you feel instantly woozy. Or was that your 5th beer? Either way, you warily trekked back to your apartment and crashed after that, or so you thought until you woke up. You begin recounting last night’s story as far as you know before Ellie once again interrupts your thoughts, this time with the check; “That’s $26.56, without the tip,” she says, throwing a wink at the end of her statement. You almost throw a snarky comment at her before realizing you can’t pay for the meal; you’ve only got cash from your, er, dimension? You’re still not entirely sure where this place is relative to your home, but it has to be close, you reckon. You reach down for your wallet and begin apologizing to your new friend before she stops you with a finger over your lips. “Don’t worry, my treat.” Daphne hands the waitress a few bills, and the cow girl happily responds before walking back to the kitchen, “Much obliged, Daph. Have a good day, y’all!” The walk back home is less of a shock since you’ve actually grown a little used to seeing these furry folk everywhere. The air’s gotten a bit warmer, and it’s actually starting to feel like a nicer day outside. Upon returning to Daphne’s apartment, you realize you’re not sure where to go other than spending the day at her house. Well, more like as long as she can stand you there until you make it back home, that is. “Thanks for the meal, really did wonders for my head,” you warmly say to the pup. She shrugs and cooly replies, “Hey, no biggie. Now that we’re back here, I was hoping you could do a favor…” She takes off her shoes and begins undoing her jeans, as her face gets red with passion. “...for me,” she finishes as she takes off her pants, revealing her bare puppy muff and toned thighs. You instantly turn 6 shades red and start to drop your spaghetti. “Whoa- hold on- this is a little- why-” The words fumble out of your mouth as she places a finger over your lips yet again. “Shhh, it’s alright. Here,” she reaches down and wiggles a finger into her snatch before weaseling it through your lips, “Have a taste.” You suckle the juice off her finger like a pup yourself, and she motions to the floor as she sits on the couch. You nod and kneel in front of her, her dark, moist cookie inches from your face. “You, know what to do, big boy,” she teases, forcing your head into her crotch. You begin eating her out, but a few seconds in you hear a phone ring. She sighs, frustrated, and bumly asks “Can we take five on this? I think I’ve been expecting this call.” You nod once more and help her up, and she retrieves her phone from her jeans. She taps it and brings it to her ear, and surprisingly greets the man on the phone, but when she does you almost freeze in shock; “Oh, Hi Tim!” To be frank, Tim’s not exactly as you remember him from last night. Like your new friend-with-benefits, the first thing you take note of is his ears - they're tall and thin, like a rabbit’s, and coated in white, black-stippled fur. The rest of his body is covered in the same fur, and you notice he’s not wearing any shoes due to his big feet and muscular legs. He is, however, wearing comfortable cargo shorts and a cream-colored t-shirt with a print of some obscure action hero you can’t seem to recall. “Hey, man,” he greets you warmly, walking into the apartment and plopping himself onto the couch. “Glad you got home safe last night. You tell Daphne ‘bout that creepy dude at the bar?” You take a seat next to him. “Not yet,” you reply, “it’s still a bit of a haze I’m afraid. Could you help me out?” “Sure, no worries dude. You wanna hear this, Daph?” The pup takes a seat on the couch as well, sandwiching you between the two furred folk. “Lay it on me, it’s not like I’m doing much else here anyway,” she says, tossing you a side-eyed smirk. You can feel your face getting pinker by the second, as Tim begins telling his tale. “So, me and Anon head to the bar as usual on Fridays, right? When we get there, everyone’s havin’ fun and stuff, we join Rackham and Mike from the complex down the street for some shots - you remember them? - when this big burly dude comes in and bumps into Anon’s chair heading towards the bar. He’s had a few drinks by now, so he’s a little pissed at this dude being a dick, no offense Anon,” Tim apologizes, playfully throwing an elbow into your side. “None taken,” you reply, “it’s new to me since I hardly remember it. Continue?” He nods, continuing, “Anyways, Anon goes to get another drink with Mike when he accidentally spills some beer on the burly dude. Burly dude gets up and I swear you can see smoke fuming from his ears - this dude’s PISSED. He says somethin’ I don’t remember from my inebriated state to Anon, and for some reason Anon kinda takes it in stride, but you can see he’s a bit shook by whatever this dude said. Dude gets out of the bar, probably back home to clean his coat, and Anon leaves a few minutes later, mutterin’ something about a killer headache. So it’s just me and the other two guys downing a few more drinks and dicking around at the pool table before we all call it a night. I head home, take a piss, pass out, yadda yadda yadda.” Now that he mentions it, it all does seem to ring a bell. But you’re positive nobody had any fur, or animal ears, or animal feet, or any of that stuff. Did they? To your surprise, Daphne doesn’t seem too fazed by the events of last night. “So, you just had an accident and he got pissed off over that?” she queries, “Who the hell’s that childish?” You shrug, responding back with a “Beats me.” It was certainly odd why he got so mad over it, and the guy didn’t even give you a chance to apologize. Fuck him, you think, even if I don’t know why I’m here I WILL find a way back. Tim breaks the short silence with a yawn and a stretch, and stands up. “Look, I know I just got here, but I need to get going soon. "Just popped by on my way to a work thing with Reynold, and I needed to bring someone like Anon along,” he says pointing a finger to you. Daphne looks bummed at the fact, but tried to hide it with a “Oh, that’s cool. Have fun, then.” While Tim raids the fridge for a drink, Daphne grabs your hand and slips a piece of paper in it, giving you a wink. Tim gives the two of you an awkward look, before his eyes widen and he realizes "Ohh, I was WONDERING what that odd smell was about." The two of you turn red almost immediately, both at a loss for words, as Daphne covers her eyes with her floppy ears. "Hey, it's cool," he cooly states, "I'm not one to judge whatever's between you two. You coming, Anon?” You weigh your two choices strongly; stay with the sweet pup girl who totally wants your meat, or hang out with a bunch of dudes (one of which is privy to the previous choice as well). “Do you need me to answer this?” you shrug, your face still a little blushed from his realization. The lagomorphic man clicks his tongue and shoots you with finger guns, commenting “Can’t blame ya. Catch you later, Daph,” he adds before closing the front door. You and the pup trade looks before bursting into laughter at the absurdity of what transpired. After a moment of hilarity, you tease her a bit, commenting on her “smell”. “Oh, shut up,” she teases back, “That was nothing compared to what you went through last month, so I don’t wanna hear it.” You pretend to know what she’s talking about, as she begins to put her shoes back on; “Hey, what happened with a few minutes ago?” you complain. “Relax, honey, I need to get in the mood again. And what better way than to go out shopping?” You sigh, mustering a coy smile. “And besides, I can let my sweet little cookie air out for a while; y’know, to reduce the smell,” she says, stripping her panties off once more and throwing them at your head. You peel them off your head, and politely lay it on the couch, snarking “You’re such a tease, you know that?” “Hey, always have been, always will,” she shoots back, tapping your forehead for extra emphasis on the ‘will’. to be continued...