>you’ve reached a dead end in your life
>and you’re not even twenty
>all because you dropped out of highschool
> “oh i'll make it” you told your parents a year ago, as you rushed to stuff as many boxes of possessions into your little suzuki (which you would sell later)
> “high school is holding back my creative potential. Once i start living on my own i'll be producing enough written works to make a killing.”
> of course you were naive back then 
> and you had saved a lot of cash from all the birthdays and odd jobs you did
> cash which didn't last long
> and writings which never garnered enough of an audience to guarantee a consistent standard of living
> your past self never imagined what you would have had to do to secure your current life
>  your past self never thought that you would end up working ten hour shifts at a pizza place in downtown butfuck
>...
> yes, that's the name of the town. It’s the type of college town you would’ve probably moved into had you ignored your childish ambitions and stayed in school
> who knows what else you could’ve accomplished
> perhaps you would’ve improved your writing capabilities 
> and then you could’ve made some real dough
> oh...the things you would buy 
> maybe you could buy a prostitute
> and then you wouldn’t be a virgin
> ...
> oh well
> time to leave work

> its around seven when your shift ends
> since its a late summer there is still daylight outside
> although the air is pretty cool
> you leave the greasy italian joint with a piping hot (small, because that's all you can afford) cheese pizza 
> you get on your bicycle
> your rusty old bicycle which has no working brakes
> good thing there aren't many intersections in this town
> you ride with one hand (the other holding your pizza) to the local park
> it’s an okay place
> plenty of bike paths
> a pond or two to swim in
> and at the center of it
> a clearing in which you can eat your pizza 
> but the clearing is different today
> next to one of the picnic tables is a pile of junk. Blankets, bottles, a keg or two and a lot of food wrappers
> fucking college kids
> before sitting down you survey the damage
> they didn't even leave a courtesy joint 
> you consider looking through the refuse but you didn't want to get stinky
>You couldn't afford the use of the shower for more than twice a month 

> soups up
> but wait
> behind you, the pile of trash stirs
> “Hello?” you ask before biting a slice of pizza
> no answer
> “fucking college kids and their trash” you say aloud
> “are you talking to me?” a high pitched voice asks
> you turn around
> oh great
> a three foot tall anthro from the pile
> its a otter
> with tits
> she's wearing a shredded crop-top v neck, splattered with drops of mud. 
> doesn't look like she’s wearing a bra. 
> her jeans likewise are torn and caked
> “Hey, gimme a slice!” she demands 
> pottery

> you give her a look of disgust
> “nice girls ask with a please” you say
> “well fuck you” she replies in a snappy tone
> “don't you have a sorority to go suck dicks at.” 
> you’re onto your next slice.
> “fuck you!” the otter clenches her fists
> the two of you lock eyes for about ten minutes as you go through the pizza
> you’re down to the last slice. 
> you wipe your hands and hold the slice up as if you were throwing it
> “Are you going to give that to me?” 
> “Yes-”
> “OK” she holds her hand out
> you give a toothy grin
> “Only- only if you...show me your tits” you say through your teeth
> she doesn't even take a second to think of your request
> she pulls the v-neck over her head and flashes you 
> damn
> c cups
> is it you or do her ribs stand out a little too much
> when her shirts back over her breasts you toss the slice with an overhanded arc
> “you fucker!” she says as she dives to catch it. 
> It lands on the sand
> Yet she picks it up and takes a bite out of it, spitting sand. 
> well that was entertaining
> you get up and head to the porta potty nearby

> you think about your current situation as you wipe your ass
> what a weird anthro. 
> seriously, you knew some anthros managed to work themselves to the top and get into college
> but that otter doesn't seem the type
> her tits were pretty nice 
> and those hips don't lie, even if her ribs were a little visible
> perhaps she was a roadie or some prostitute the college jocks keep around for an easy lay 
> As you rise from the toilet to pull your pants, a stunning revelation comes to you
> “FUCK”
> You left your bike alone with a some strange furry

> as you rush out of the porta potty your suspicions were confirmed
> the otter was on your bike
> her legs couldn't reach the pedals, being three feet tall
> and she had to hold onto the picnic table to keep her balance
> you run
> no time to lose!
> “Hey shortstack get your ass off my bike!”
> you hope that was intimidating enough
> she gives you a sneer
> but then the bike and her fall over
> she grunts as she gets up and dusts herself off. 
> as you edge nearer she gets into a fighting stance
> “i'm not gonna-” you start to say before she rushes you

> well fuck
> what are you gonna do
> beat up a shortstack
> shit that's like 
> beating up a child and a woman at the same time
> but if you get beat
> fuck
> there goes your pride
> As the otter runs up to you, fist raised, you decide you didn't have any pride in the first place
> but you did like your balls
> so you knee her in the chest

> “You fuck!” 
> she’s on the ground, clutching her tits
> well know you feel bad
> she picks up a white rock 
> immediately you’re hit by regret
> or rather a rock
> to the stomach
> “Listen, we can work something out”
> you raise your hands towards her
> only to pull them back to cover your face from her rock assault
> “KNOCK IT OFF”
> this startles her at first but she continues to lift up another rock
> you’re about to close the gap between you and her when you hear the sound of a car driving in the background
> a white truck pulls up as you grab the otter’s hands
> a ranger (this park was big enough to have one?) jumped out of the truck, carrying a walking stick
> “Oh officer, thank goodness you’re here!” you say holding the otter up by her wrists. “I’ve been under assault by this thi-” 
>The otter, as you held her at eye level, bit your nose. 
> although she wasn't biting it clear off, she definitely had a grip. 
> as you wrestle with her you hear the ranger yelling obscenities 
> finally you pry her off
> only to hear a clunk 
> you’re seeing stars

> you wake up
> fuck
> its bright as hell in here
> it takes a second for your vision to get used to all the light
> you’re surrounded by bars
> your right hand is cuffed to one of them
> you have your back against something smooth and smelly
> a cursory feel behind your back results in a wet hand
> you just stuck your hand in a toilet
> you hope your hepatitis vaccines are still working 
> nothing else is in the cell with you besides a sandwich on a plate
> outside the bars, you see chairs running parallel to your cell, from one end of the building to a door to your far right  
> you think it's a door but several cluttered desks block your view 
> an anthro is behind a desk to your right facing your cell 
> and very large anthro 
> black bear with a brown muzzle
> wearing a brown uniform with a green label saying ‘ranger’
> pottery
> beyond the bars across from you, a familiar child-sized figure sits, cuffed to the chair
> its her
> the otter has her head down
> is that bitch sulking?
> after all that she put you through?


> fuck her
> “fuck you!” you say in a hoarse voice
> The otter looks up and sneers at you, tears in her eyes
> the bear gets up from his desk and coughs
> “Hello, im ranger perkins.” He stands straight with his hands behind his back, as if he was addressing some government official
> oh great 
> a larping bear
> “I assume you got to know Ivy. Ivy, introduce yourself” he turns to Ivy with a hand out
> Ivy sticks her tongue out at you
> “You’re as tall as a three year-old and just as mature you fuck!” 
> the ranger glares at ivy but continues
> “I understand you got into a little fight with Ivy here”
> Little? 
> you feel your nose 
> a small bandage covers where she bit 
> it stings a little but as far as you are concerned it wasn't as bad as you thought
> “Sir this bitch assaulted me after i caught her trying to steal my bike” 
> “I did not try to steal his bike! I was merely trying it on for size…” she pipes up. “He had me flash him for pizza, which he threw at the ground!” 
> you feel a tinge of guilt and look away from the bear
> Ranger Perkins leans on his desk and sighs
> “Alright he can press charges for assault” he says to you
> he then points at ivy
> “and you can press charges for sexual assault” 
>  “you can take a guess who the judge will favor” he says flatly. 

> “Now i'm not saying either of your transgressions against one another were not warranted” 
> “But, uh, what's your name again” he picks up a pen and a pad
> “Anon. Chan”
> “You don't look...asian” he remarks, writing your name down
> he wasn't the first person to say that
> “Mr Chan, let me make a deal with you. I will let you go in the morning, and you can press charges if you feel the need to. Until then though, i'm leaving you and ivy to settle your differences out of court”
> wait what
> Ivy looks just as surprised as you
> “You’re just going to leave me here? With her?” 
> The bear takes a swig of a plastic bottle of water and then tosses it to her
> it lands short of her left foot
> “Yeah. Don't worry, you’re separated by bars, and she's cuffed to that chair.”
> “I have fucking work at nine”
> the bear scratches his chin 
> “I’ll be in early.” he shrugs
> smug honey eating asshole

> “this can't be legal” Ivy yells, looking ready to have a fit. “I’ll fucking take the heat from the cops if you just get me away from this freak.”
> “hey fuck you clam breath. You consented to showing me your tits in the first place. Not my fault you’re a hungry slut.” you give her the middle finger
> “a decent being wouldn’t make a poor, vulnerable anthro like me show her tits to get some food”
> you look at the bear
> he rolls his eyes and looks at his watch
> “yeah, well, a decent being wouldn't have tried to assault me after ‘trying’ my bike. Which, i'm guessing, you would’ve stolen if you had the chance.”
> “fuck you! I didn't even draw that much blood! You’re lucky i had constraint!”
> you wave your hand at her and look at the bear
> “see? She consented and confessed! Let me out!” 
> the bear looks bored of you two. He starts heading for the door to the far right end of the building.
> “Fuck you! Fuck you furry bastard! You’re just covering for your own!” you cry as he opens the door
> the bear looks distraught. He takes his hand off the door handle holds it up for you to see
> “do you see this?”
> “No because there are fucking bars in front of my face” you retort
> he walks right next to his desk
> you can see a very large gold ring on his fourth finger. It looks tight, obviously a human wring refitted to just barely fit.
> “Im married to one of yours” he says to you
> “Oh yeah and i'm friends with a badger! That doesn't disprove bias at all!”
> the bear sighs and opens the door. Before he goes, he its one of the two light switches.
> the room becomes darker, the only light coming from an old bulb over the desks. 
> you can still see Ivy, and she can still see you. 
> she pulls the water bottle to her with her foot, and picks it up. 
> “So how long have you known this badger?” she asks before taking a sip
> you bang the back of your head against the toilet seat. 

> you doze off for a bit
> you dream of going home
> stepping off the bus, meeting your parents with open arms 
> going back to school, seeing your friends, graduating
> even going on a date with a certain girl
> this blonde babe who transferred in back during sophomore year 
> she was flat back then but by the time you left  she was easily d cups
> you can imagine marrying her, having children, 
> writing in a subject notebook on a recliner next to a fireplace, taking advice from your wife as your kids look on.
> you’re not sure if she was a good writer back in school but still
> then suddenly
> the front door opens
> a whistle 
> your wife looks out the entrance of the kitchen to see whats all the commotion
> what appears to be a cowboy steps into your house, its head bowed and covered by a ten gallon hat
> the whistling gets louder
> suddenly, the cowboy looks up, 
> its face 
> brown fur
> blue eyes
> a brown and black muzzle
> it's a motherfucking Otter

> you wake up with a lurch
> the whistling is coming from beyond the bars
> ivy is clearly the source of it
> you couldn’t make out whatever she was whistling but she was definitely not making it up
> “stop whistling” you groan 
> she ignores you
> “what are you even whistling” 
> she stops for a bit, and then you see her take a drink of water. 
> “do you know what time it is?”
> “no” she replies between sips
> “don't you have a smartphone like all the other college kids?” 
> “don't YOU have a smartphone?”
> “I had a slide phone” you feel your pockets. “But he took it”
> “well why do you think he’d let me keep my phone?” She tries to move the chair next to her but they were all nailed to the floor.  “If i had one, that is.”
> “I don't fucking know, he seemed like he was going out of his way to make your life easier.”
> “trust me, i wouldn’t know that bear if he blew me.”
> you shoot her a quizzical look.
> “No i don't have a dick you fucking freak.” 

> “so what do you go to college for?” you ask
> “i'm not in college any more”
> “so what DID you go to college for” you snap back
> you don't get a response
> instead you see her try to cross her arms, but her right hand being cuffed she just brings the left arm across her chest and pouts
> you think of dozing off again as she begins to talk 
> “I went to university to get a degree in art.” She looks up.
> huh
> “How did that go?” you croak
> She takes a minute to gather her thoughts
> “it went to shit”
> reminds you of someone else 
> “So why are you hanging around this park?”
> “Well i came with this group for a keg party… and they left me behind after cleaning up”
> “were those blankets yours?”
> “what kind of autistic question is that?” 
> you were taken back for a second there but then you remember who you’re talking to. 
> another couple minutes of silence passed. 
> “So were you a hooker or…” you ask as you scratch your nose
> she sighs. “Yes.”

> ooooh
> “so….?”
> “listen, fucker, i am a hooker. Let’s leave it at that. pervert.” 
> you thought about being defensive but she was right
> you were perving on her

> time goes on 
> you find it hard to sleep 
> for one thing, you’re propped against a toilet on cold wood
> and another, it's hard to sleep with that light shining in your face
> finally, your throat is dry 
> fuck going to sleep if you’re gonna wake up with cramps
> you start thinking of drinking toilet water when you hear something
> some combination of a low growl and a moan
> you hear Ivy stir a little

> “Psst” she whispers “wake up…!”
> “I wasn't asleep”
> “Whatever.” There was a tinge of annoyance to her voice.
> “you want something?” 
> “yeah, that sandwich.” she points at the sandwich
> “Alright.” 
> “Are you gonna give that to me or what?” 
> man that attitude
> “what” 
> “Just give me the fucking sandwich” 
> you think about teasing her about manners but you have a better idea
> “Toss me that water first.”  

> she is visibly repulsed by your request
> “fuck no.”
> “why not?”
> “Im burning up here.” she took another slip of water. 
> “fuck you! Its cold as hell. How can you be so hot?” 
> “hey dipshit, I’ve got fur underneath these clothes.Plus, how do i know you’d give it back?” 
> she’s got you there. 
> “I'm pretty thirsty. I'll probably drink all of that water. I admit it.” You were so tired you didn't think about lying. “But i won't mind if you eat all of this sandwich. Okay?” 
> she flips the bottle in her hand and catches it by the cap. 
> “deal”
> you pick up the sandwich and find some newspapers underneath it. You wrap the sandwich, and toss the package through the bars.
> meanwhile she whips the bottle right at you. It bounces off a bar and lands across the cell from you
> you try to reach it but your right hand, still being cuffed, stops you from reaching the bottle
> shit
> you undo your belt and let your cargo shorts sag, showing the upper portion of your underwear. 
> Ivy eyes your underwear as she devours the sandwich
> you try using the buckle side of your belt to get a grip on the bottle 
> only to push it further away from you 
> fuck
> FUCK

> you feel like crying but you don't want to waste any more water
> your chest begins to hurt as you hold in your tears
> every breath comes out a dry heave
> fuck man
> how did it come to this
> standing in a poorly lit cell, having a fit over a lack of water
> all under the eyes of a dirty-mouthed otter hooker
> you consider drowning yourself in the toilet
> but you don't think your parents could handle the shame of having to bring their boy home in a casket, blue lipped and pale, all because he couldn’t keep his ambitions in check
> you look out to ivy as she's finishing up the sandwich
> would she attend your funeral out of pity? 
> …
> pppft why do i care she's just some prostitute who assaulted you
> they probably would take put her in jail for being suspect in your death
> maybe they’d arrest that bear for pulling this stunt in the first place
> well at least you’d die doing something good
> i.e. ending police corruption
> or would it be malice? 

> you’re snapped out of your self-wallowing by Ivy
> “Hey you lanky-ass perverted fucker. Did you just lose our only source of water?” she says, her voice sounding a little dry and weak
> You realized you had spaced out 
> staring at ivy’s crotch
> although she was wearing jeans she did not make any attempt to close her legs
> in fact it looked like she was melting, her right arm sticking up against the top of the chair while the rest of her was against the legs
> you could see the underside of her arms, drenched in sweat, as well as her general crotch area
> fuck was that hot...

> “Can you reach the water?”  
> you get up on your knees
> “No” you reply, before leaning against the toilet
> she sighs. 
> after a few minutes sweltering, she pulls herself on top of the chair
> “I have an idea that will help both of us.” she says.  
> you consider making a comment about your suicide
> She kneels on the chair, looking behind her at the bulletin boards stretching from one end of the building to the next
> there were all sorts of posters, papers and calling cards on them, as well as a calendar or two. 
> each bulletin board is bordered by what appears to be a thin plate of aluminium, a  screw here every now and then to keep it in place
> Ivy takes her paws, and tries to pry the aluminium off
> when that doesn't work, she yanks at the board until-
> flop
> a length of board no less than six feet fell right on top of Ivy


> “you okay?” you ask
> the board moves
> Ivy’s face pops over 
> “Yeah.” she looks slightly pleased
> she turns the board sideways, papers fluttering to the ground
> although you can't see her, you hear her grunt 
> her whole foot comes through the middle of the board, narrowly avoiding several thumbtacks
> holding the board with her one free hand, she rips and tears into the board with her feet
> pins and calling cards go flying with chunks of cork
> she ravages the board with such ferocity you’d swear this was just an actual otter tearing apart cork
> she’s definitely enjoying it, based off the toothy grin on her face
> she even glances at you a while doing so, and winks
> don't get that otter angry, you note
> eventually, there's a big hole stretching from one alluminium bar to the other. 
> panting, Ivy kick/shoves the big board through the bars into your cell, just barely within reach of you
> she collapses, panting like a bitch in heat
> “water” she gasps, waving her free hand

> you grab the board with your free hand and hand it to your cuffed right hand. 
> from there you start to pull off the remaining cork until you only have the aluminum bars
> a six by four aluminum skeleton, way longer then your belt
> with this new tool you manage to reach the water bottle and pull it to you
> although the optimist would say it's half full, the water bottle is half empty 
> you take a quick swig to wet your whistle, and then look at your ‘colleague’ 
> she's a fucking mess 
> she’s breathing hard
> her clothing is absolutely covered in sweat
> and she smells like
> what else
> a wet animal
> you take another swig
> “Ivy” you call.
> “yeah?” she croaks. 
> “catch” 
> You toss, underhand, the bottle through the bars.
> She lifts her free hand up without herself getting up and catches the bottle
> She chugs it and gasps, dropping the now empty plastic bottle to the ground
> you hear here mumble 
> “thanks” is the only thing you could make out
> she starts to snore 

> eventually you doze off
> no dreams this time, just deep sleep
> only to be awoken by Ivy
> “psst” 
> “what” you grumble.
> “look away” 
> you open your eyes
> “dipshit!” Ivy’s holding a piece of paper with her free hand, standing on the chair
> She punches the wall behind her, making a hole just underneath her torso
> “Look away” she growls
> you put your hand over your eyes and do exactly that
> “why would you wake me so you could take a piss?” you try shifting your body but the whole ‘cuffed to the bars’ thing wasn't helping. “why would you wake me up so you could tell me not to look while you piss?” 
> “fuck you, look away!”
> for a prostitute she's pretty self-conscious
> you hear a pitter patter
> you try getting a looksy
> slowly you turn, slightly opening your fingers over your face
> you get a glimpse of her ass
> it was pretty thicc
> “HEY!” she barks at you
> you quickly turn away
> “fucking pervert” you hear from ivy as the pitter-patter fades away

> “alright you can look” she says
> she's back to sitting on the chair. 
> behind her a couple of thumbtacks hold a poster over where the hole
> the original sheet she had in her hand is gone
> you want to comment on her problem solving skills
> “thats pretty autistic” you say instead 
> “well so are you” she crosses her arms. “You fucking over react to shit. First me being on your bike and then being thirsty.” 
> she stretches her hands out 
> “we’re in this whole mess because of you”
> “fuck you!” you point at her “As if you don't do that aswell! You fucking charged me, threw rocks”
> you point at your bandaged nose
> “bit me” 
>  She bites her tongue and looks over her shoulder
> “And you know what?” you yank your cuffed hand as you stand up “this might be a stretch, but i don't think you’re a fucking whore” 

> she gives you a confused look
> “you just called me a whore though” 
> you scratch your nose and pick at the bandage
> “yeah...but i don't think you’re unintelligent enough to be one” 
> she's still confused 
> “...thanks?” 
> you sit on the toilet nonchalantly
> “like, you took your anger right, and used it to solve problems”
> you point at her, at the aluminium skeleton to your left, and the just above her where the top of the poster behind her is. 
> “ so clearly you’re intelligent. Why the fuck are you a whore?” 
> she’s clearly rattled by that last question
> but before she can explode you continue
> “ I mean, iknowyouprobablydidntchoosetobeawhoreandall” 
> nice recovery
> “But didn't you see it coming, you know, the whole shit future with the art degree and all?” 
> she scratches the underside of her muzzle, thinking. 

> ”what, are you a psychiatrist?”. She’s looking at you, hunched, holding her head up with her free hand
> sorta like that statue in the french museum everyone references  
> “uh…” you scratch the back of your neck. “No…?”
> she jumps up on the chair and points at you
> “then fuck off!” she yells, looking very annoyed
> she yanks at her cuffs in anger
> you can hear the chair struggle against the boards it's screwed into with every pull
> eventually she tires herself out and slides back into the chair, huffing and puffing
> mumbling about water again
> you look down, disappointed at your attempt at armchair pseudo-psychology 
> ...
> “If you’re so good at reading people you little shit, why don't you help yourself?”

> you look up
> Ivy’s picking around her peg-like claws with an unraveled paper clip
> she looks you in the eye with a blank stare
> “well?”
> ...
> there’s no point in denying it
> you haven't really self-reflected, just loll’d-about in your feelings
> without a doubt you regret many past actions
> the most obvious being the time you left your parents
> or having the dream of becoming a freelance author 
> but did you ever question the base of your reasoning
> your personality, your conscience? 
> or if perhaps you were on the right track
> you had simply took a misstep and fell into a pothole
> in that case, is that all that this time has been
> a mere pothole on the road to life?
> or is this perhaps a stepping stone towards progress
> a time you will look back upon fondly and say 
> “this was my low point”
> “being cuffed to a jail-cell, trapped with a mild-mannered three-foot tall otter prostitute, who stirred in your mind these thoughts”
>...
> the more you think about it the more you agree 
> perhaps you are a little dramatic

> “Hey fucko” 
> Ivys got another peice of paper in her hands
> “Got a pen?”
> You look around the cell
> no pens in sight, but the nearest desk has a cup of them 
> you take out your belt and swing it behind your kneck, just barely hitting the cup
> it spills over, unleashing a bunch of cheap crystal pens across the floor, a couple within your reach
> you grab one and flick it at the otter, only for it to bounce off the jailbars and slide right up to your feet
> you pick it up and try again, only for the pen to land underneath the chair
> “Hey Anon maybe you could try going back to sleep because your aim is sh-
> As Ivy yammers at you, you manage to toss a second pen right off of her nose
> “FUCKER!” she says snatching the pen out of the air.
> she sits with her legs wide open and begins to draw on the paper betwixt her thick thighs

> your mind begs for sleep, but your eyes are stuck watching her.
> she starts off erratically using her shoulder to move the pen
> then she begins to erratically scratch against the paper with her wrist
> she bites the pen for a bit, and then tosses the paper, crumbled
> She gets on her knees and then reaches down on the floor for another piece of paper
> and then goes back to drawing
> “ What kind of artist are you again” you mutter
> she bites the corner of her mouth and begins to fiercely focus on her chicken scratches
> “cuss you know I'm an artist too. In a sort. I write"
> Her ears perk up but she keeps staring fiercely at the paper between her legs
> "and you see, when i fuck up on a-"
> slap the side of your head a couple times, trying to keep yourself awake
> "Piece, if you will, i just go back and work on it. No point in throwing out what has potential"

> She points the back of the pen at you. “I cant go back and work on chicken scratches if its written in pen”
> you shrug
> “Just draw lightly” 
> you hear her blow air through her nostrils before continuing on the previous task at hand
> you look in the direction of the door. 
> you couldn’t guess the time but judging by the fact no light was coming from the door it was before 5 o'clock. 
> “Anon.”
> you look Ivy
> she’s got her legs crossed, back straightened, paper and pen in her free hand, staring at you
> “ could you tell this bored, sexy lady a good story? Im not sleeping anytime soon...” 
>  you scratch your chin and look around the room
> a good story eh? 
> what's the best way to start a story? 
> …
> “Well there was once this crass lass on a dock skinning bass…”

> She wasn't especially good at it
> hell, she was a beaver and as such a construction worker at heart
> (ivy snorts and leans into her chair)
> but she landed in the middle of a fishing village on an island surrounded by deadly shoals, so it's not like she had a choice of where to go
> she was the only anthro in this whole island, see
> the locals treated her first as an oddity
> and second as, well, an ordinary citizen
> the fishermen’s wives taught her their ways, and in exchange she skinned the bass and opened the clams
> one night, picking scales out of her front teeth, the midget-
> ( Ivy sighs at this) 
> Sorry, shortstack.
> (she snorts and looks away, her ears still perked up) 
> spotted one of the locals with a lantern

> The local was a lad of the same age, covered in seal skins 
> holding the lantern out, his tall appearance made the light appear like a lighthouse 
> the beaver lass asked, “Sir what are thou doing?”
> The lad responded “I'm guiding my favorite ships away from the shoals”
> the beaver was intrigued. “I can't see any ship. How can you tell which ones are your favorite?”
> the lad yawned. “I just imagine the ship i fancy seeing the light and avoiding it.”
> lassy beaver was intrigued, and sought out the lad next day
> instead she found broken timbers and loose rope coming in from the shoals
> a whole shipwreck came piecemeal to the island
> the boy was saddened. 
> For all he knew, he was behind the deaths of a ship he loved, yet never once set foot upon
> (“is this supposed to be a happy story anon or…?” Ivy whispered”)

> (you put your left hand up at Ivy)
> The lad went to bed early that day
> the beaver girl couldnt find him
> but she did find his lantern, smashed against a seawall
> she took the lantern, and filled it with fish fat and strings to create a sort of candle
> with the lantern a lit, she walked to the edge of the rock wall and held it outwards
> Within the hour a mighty ship was sighted, heading for the shoals
> upon the jagged stones at the falling tides she ripped open her guts, and spread red wood across the northern portion of the island
> the beaver lass at once set to gathering the wood, and with the best pieces built the carvel fit for a…
> (you thought for a second) 
> well a couple of kids looking to escape a shitty island
> the beaver lass sought out the lad, and showed him her work
> Overjoyed with the prospect of escaping they would finish the boat, and at high tide they would evade the shoals, never to return to the island
> (you rushed the ending but perhaps you got your point across to Ivy)

> (you put your left hand up at Ivy)
> The lad went to bed early that day
> the beaver girl couldnt find him
> but she did find his lantern, smashed against a seawall
> she took the lantern, and filled it with fish fat and strings to create a sort of candle
> with the lantern a lit, she walked to the edge of the rock wall and held it outwards
> Within the hour a mighty ship was sighted, heading for the shoals
> upon the jagged stones at the falling tides she ripped open her guts, and spread red wood across the northern portion of the island
> the beaver lass at once set to gathering the wood, and with the best pieces built the carvel fit for a…
> (you thought for a second) 
> well a couple of kids looking to escape a shitty island
> the beaver lass sought out the lad, and showed him her work
> Overjoyed with the prospect of escaping they would finish the boat, and at high tide they would evade the shoals, never to return to the island
> (you rushed the ending but perhaps you got your point across to Ivy)

>Ivy stares at you for a couple seconds, and looks around the room. 
>She seems uncomfortable
> seems like somethings building up in her chest
> finally, as you're about to give up on being awake to hear her reaction
> "are my teeth that big?" she blurts

> “...no?”
> “then what the fuck was the point of the story?” She waves the pen and the paper around with anger.
> “Im supposed to be the beaver, right?” 
> you shake your head to confirm
> “Well why am i helping you destroy ships when your fucking self insert even regrets it?” 
> She slams her head into the paper wall behind her
> two thumbtacks to fall from the poster and it droops over her head. 
> She rips the poster off the wall and throws it against the ground. 
> It lands with a whap. 
> “What the fuck does the boat represent? Eh? The water bottle thing?” 
> you give up and lay against the toilet
> “You had a fucking chance to impress me and you give me a sob story.”
> “christ anon.”
> Ivy sniffs and scratches her nose
> “Man, the first thing i thought when i saw you was ‘he’s pretty cute. We should fuck later.’”
> ...
> to your right, the door creaks as it opens

> you hear the scuffing of boots, and then the sound of a wooden pole hitting the ground
> followed by a scream
> “Who the fuck? What the fuck?” a voice to your left cried
> it sounded like either a tomboy or a guy with no balls
> you see a fellow human, clad in ranger regalia, pulling at his rather short, black hair. 
> his eyes shifted erratically around the mess that was in front of your cell
> he glances at ivy only to stare wide eyed at the now uncovered hole in the wall
> he then looks at you, mouth agape
> you could almost see the gears in his head turning
> “oh shit” the ranger whispers
> you snap at him with your free hand
> “Hey, officer. Where’s Perkins?” your voice was monotone and with a slight slur. 
> “Do you have some water on you?” Ivy croaked. She was beginning to slide off her chair again like earlier. 
> The officer, instead, ignores both of you and runs out of the building, stopping to grab a wooden walking stick on the way out
> you could've sworn you saw that guy before but with being deprived of sleep, memory wasn't your strong point at the moment

> you hear a kerfuffle outside
> it reminds you of soap operas your parents would have on when you got home from school
> it sounds like the tomboy was pleading, then acting hysterical, then silent
> and then it sounds like he was resorting to a screaming match with a deep yet recognizable voice 
> things got silent again. 
> Ivy at first tried listening but instead she resorted to shoving chewed calling cards into her ears and closing her eyes 
> eventually the human ranger returns, followed by a rather muscular silhouette behind him
> Ranger perkins? 

>  The bear looks as tired as you are
> his ears are flat, and the muzzle which once displayed a warmm smile was now in an annoyed sneer 
> he was looking at the damage on the wall over Ivy. 
> you were going to get his attention when the human ranger opened the cell door and walked up to you with his walking stick in hand. 
> “Can i go to work now?” you stutter like a drunken teenager
> he whaps you against the toilet seat with his oaken staff, stars flying, sending you into a deep sleep 
> at least you can finally catch up on those z’s. 

> you awake in darkness
> the muffled sound of tires grinding against dirt fills your ears 
> you can also hear breathing, a soft wheeze mixed in with a sort of purr
> the air was warm and humid
> you are well rested
> the bandage on your nose itched
> trying to move your arm, you realize you are hogtied with rope
> your mouth is gagged, sticky tape surrounding your mouth, holding a rubber ball against your tongue
> thoughts of rape, murder and abduction fill your mind when suddenly 
> a tinge of pain, as something hairy brushes against your nose and forces itself right against your face
> it smells like a sweat-laden corpse had an orgy with a muddy whore
> obviously, it was Ivy
> you at first feel disgusted
> then happiness
> then anger
> then confusion
> but before reaching a conclusion, you hear a loud thump and are in the air for a second 

> Ivy squeeks 
> you finally land, hitting the plastic floor with a blunt thud
> your head feels like it was gonna split
> suddenly, a bright light shines behind you and encapsulates the entire room
> you can make out Ivy facing you, her green eyes red and puffy with tears
> she looks slightly relieved to see you
> but then, something grabs your bound limbs and pulls you away from her
> you’re dragged out and dropped on your belly
> sand goes flying as you land
> the humid air of the truck is replaced with the dry air of the outside
> Ivy is plopped right next to you
> your eyes slowly adjust to the natural light, revealing a large pile of gravel in front of you 
> dust and gravel, that is where you are going to die
> your adversaries appear from behind 
> on your left, that ranger-bear perkins.
> hands behind his back, blue eyes staring solemnly at you
> on your right, the skinny black haired fellow who keeps knocking you out, minus his signature walking stick.
> he's trying to copy his partner's serious stance but his uneasiness shows in the form of a jitter to his walk and the inability to stand still
> Ivy sneezes, throwing more dust into the air

> you scream but it comes out hoarse and diluted
> Ivy screams aswell with the same results
> you two scream for a couple of minutes
> Ranger perkins patiently waits for you to be quiet
> but his partner paces around scratching his chin
> eventually your cries die down but the black haired guy keeps pacing
> eventually Perkins bekins to the guy with his finger and starts talking to him
> “i just can't figure out what i want to say” you hear the black  haired bro say in a low tone
> “you don't have to say anything, you know. Its not like you’ve been big on words when you last dealt with these guys.” Perkins says, cupping the black haired guy’s chin. 
> “that's because i was out of words after dealing with you” the black hair guy faces towards his shoes, looking up at perkins with his eyes 
> “well why give these bozos the time of day? Lets just go” Perkins glances at you with a wide eyed grin “let's just leave them here”
> “No! Your shitty ideas got us into this in the first place.” the black haired guy walks behind you and returns with a shovel “First allowing the homeless to sleep in the park, then your shitty ‘conflict resolution’...”
> “it's not shitty, Danny.” Ranger perkins kneels and looks you in the eye. “These two pulled through the night, and i think they learned a valuable lesson.” the bear sniffs the air and jabs a thumb in your direction. “This guy must’ve gotten into her metaphorical breeches. He's got passion for her, i can smell it”
> You look at ivy
> she groans and sighs through her nose

> “Life's not a fucking love movie” the man whose name was Danny cried. “You should’ve dumped these guys here in the first place!”  
> Ranger Perkins stood up and scratched his chin, thinking.
> “Lets just get it done and call it a day” Danny shouldered his shovel
> “Can we let them have a last words at least?” Perkins suggested
> “what the fuck did i just say” Danny mumbled. He sounded angry but he looked tired, as if he knew he couldn’t win with this bear. 
> Perkins knelt once more and put his hands on your nape where the tape started. 
> “If i'm going to be a murderer, i'm going to do it my way.” His voice sounded like an actor delivering an award-winning line.
>  He ripped the tape right off, and stick his finger on the ball in your mouth.
> “Just don't scream Mr Chan and i'll put this in my memoirs.” 
> That made you feel better
> the ball rolls out of your mouth onto the dusty ground, covered in spittle. 
> you take a second to think
> …
> fuck, you’ve gotta pee. 

>after a minute of silence, the bear moves to put the gag back on
> “No no no wait!” you splurt. “Just...fuck you’re really going to kill me?”
> “uh yeah. I think we’ve given you enough to get us fired, if not sent to jail” he points his thumb over his shoulder at Danny. “Of course, he’s the one who assaulted you first. but i'm not letting my husband get sent to jail for being an incompetent first time ranger.” 
> “HEY!” Danny snaps, then looks away.
> you consider commenting on how incompetent Perkins himself was but you digress.
> Instead, you summon something that you’ve been hiding since you arrived in Butfuk
> your father’s southern charm

> “Ranjuh, ah must say, i applaud your honor. Protecting yuh spouse and livelihood in these uncertain times is a mighty ambition worthy of the lord’s praise. But do not break his golden rule, for aaih am sure we can ass-er-tain uhn middle ground most favorable to the both of uhs, if you get pick up what im putting down.”

>Ranger perkins slaps his knee and goes into a chuckle fit, laughing until he coughs
> Ivy grumbles and lays her head on the ground, accepting her fate
> Ranger Danny turns around and paces once more, holding the shovel behind his neck as if he were using it to carry water buckets from a well.

> eventually Ranger perkins stops laughing and looks you square in the eye
> “yeah..no dice.” he wipes his nose with his finger. “But good accent. Should’ve used it on the lady when you first met her, am i right?” 
> Ivy ignores the bear and looks away. 
> Danny kneels in front of Ivy while Ranger Perkins puts the gag back into your mouth.
> there's a feeling of shame and at the same time pride resonating in you
> at the very least, you thought, you tried your best.
> of course reality then begun to set in and you tried to keep yourself from screaming with the gag in your mouth. 
> but someone else screams

> Ranger perkins jumps and grabs Danny by his hand
> blood is spilling from his hand, index finger out of site.
> meanwhile, to your left Ivy has freed herself from her binds (somehow?) and takes the finger out of her mouth
> Perkins quickly grabs Ivy by her shirt collar and lifts her up to be on level with his face
> the three foot tall Otter anthro looks tiny compared to the burly, almost seven foot tall bear. 
> but she slips out of the crop-top and lands on her ass, tits showing
> she slips between the bears legs and right to you
> “help” you try to say, as she runs around and hides behind your bundled arms and legs. “Fucking untie me” 
> of course this came out a mumbled mess, and the otter was so high on adrenaline she didn't pay you no mind
> no, in fact, her eyes stuck to Ranger perkins, who, while still watching ivy, walked to his lover Danny, who was kneeling over his bloodied hand like the dramatic person he was 
> “Hey, you big baby, let's go” Perkins said, holding his hand out to Danny. 

> Danny looked surprised, and then infuriated. 
> “Just fucking bury them! No one will be able to get my dna off her once it's dried underneath a shitton of gravel.” Danny pleaded
> The bear shook his head
> “let's head stateside. Murdering these lovers will just put the police hot on our trail.” 
> lovers? 
> i mean you had started getting a feeling for that otter but you're not sure if the sentiments are exactly shared
> Danny started to cry, mumbling something about “trash movie endings”. Instead of grabbing danny’s hand, ranger Perkins just lifted Danny up and walked to the truck.  
> Ivy, at the time, was using your shirt to clean the blood out of her mouth. She kept Danny’s finger in her right hand while she did so.
> you try talking to her again, but she flicks your ear with her claw, giving your headache an extra ringing noise.
> you screech like a muffled donkey
> “That's for being an ass” she says
> then she kisses the side of your head, above the ear
> “You make a cute georgian distraction at least” she whispers into your ear in a sultry tone
> meanwhile, Ranger perkins approaches you, water bottle in hand

> He stops and does his signature ‘standing at attention, hands behind his back’ thing
> He smiles at you two with a nefarious grin, before givng into a laughing fit
> He tosses the water bottle, and it lands right next to your head. Ivy quickly grabs it and chugs the water like she did before. But she spits out some so that 2/3rds of the water is left. 
> She offers it to you
> You feel a warm feeling in your chest. If you weren't gagged and hogtied you would take it from her. 

> Perkins goes “ahem” and sticks his hand out as if to receive something
> Ivy glares at him, and then tosses the finger 
> he snatches it and runs back to the truck, handing it to Danny.
> After a few minutes, you hear the truck engine turn on and  tires rolling on gravel until the sound eventually fades out.
> Ivy stuck by your side as she watched them leave, and once she was satisfied she began to pace
> she paces around you, picks up her shirt, tosses it aside, takes a look at your ass, puts her hand on your ropes, and when you think she was going to undue them she gracefully lifts her hand up and takes a seat on a rock at the base of the gravel hill. 
> the sun glitters of her tits, and the chirping of birds gives an air of heaven to the mischievous otter sitting in front of you. 
> if only you were free of your binds…
> Ivy looks at you with a smile, then looks around as if she were thinking about something. 
> she takes a deep breath
> “Is it weird if i'm horny now?” 

> she jumps off the rock and lands in front of you
> “On an unrelated note” she strides by you, as if walking on a runway. “I'm thinking of what you said earlier, about not seeing shit in the future.” 
> “And well…” she looks at her claws as if she were inspecting freshly trimmed nails “what if, i see in my future...yours truly, in the back of your shirt...riding to your place”
> she struts over and leans against you, as if you were a pylon in some gymnasium on prom day.
> “Now, you’ve been very mean to me, and i’ve been very mean to you. But...im willing to look past our rather unfriendly past if you are too.” although it's pretty hard to see, (seeing as your head is stuck facing to your right against the ground) out of the corner of your eye you can make out Ivy blinking seductively at you, hand on her chest. 
> you’re popping a boner so hard it's digging itself into the sandy ground
> “The fact is this day has left me thinking differently, and i think with your help i’ll be able to…” she walks two fingers down your right arm to your shoulder, and then brushes your cheek. “springboard into a better life.”
> “Of course i won't be barging into your house and squatting for free” she pushes herself off of you and puts her hands behind her back. She turns to meet your eyes. “Ill be willing to pay for room with...”
> Ivy puts her hands behind her neck and shakes her ass a bit, letting her c cups jiggle.
> “i think you get the point…” she coos