Egg-Laying Mammals
"Um ... spanner."
"Spanner?"
"The thing with the forked end."
The echidna squinted, fishing about the tool-kit. "Ah." She blinked, picked it up ...
... and handed it to Bell-Bell. The doe on her back, half her body inside a power junction. In here, the control room for the colony's power distribution center. Which ran the water, electricity, and ... various other things. Everything was channeled through here. Which saved a lot of space. And was rather efficient. However, with everything, then, being run through here ... there was no back-up in place. So, when the nodes went wonky, they had to be entirely fixed or entirely replaced.
Bell-Bell was here to make that determination. Spare power nodes were on Solstice, so ... she could replace them, if necessary. But might as well try and repair them first. And with the spanner, she stuck it at some processing chips. Ran a little, blue light over them.
"I must confess ... to be at a loss," the echidna said.
"Mm?" More scanning. More spanning.
"None of us living here," she explained, "are engineers. We are ... rather earthy."
"Earthy, huh?" The deer put the spanner down. Slid it across the floor. "Coupler."
Again, the echidna hesitated.
"It has a point at the end. A single point."
"Is it blue?"
"Blue-grey ... mm ... it has a grey handle, too."
"I see it." She bent down. Grabbed it. And reached under the consoles ... to give it to Bell-Bell.
"Thanks," the doe went.
"You're welcome." The echidna blinked. Fidgeted a bit. "We are most grateful for your coming here. Without our power source, life would be ... well, less convenient. The weather frequently turns rainy and stormy."
"Well, we're glad to help. And, really, one of you should verse yourselves in the basics of computer repair, cause ... I mean, this system is a bit antiquated."
"We've been here for several decades."
"And this is the ORIGINAL computer?"
"One of them, yes. The others all broke ... over time, that is."
"Hmm." A hum-hum as the coupler was run over some wires. And a beep-beep as a scanner was run over all of it ... checking the progress. The does hooves and legs sticking out. The deer didn't wear shoes. It wasn't practical, having hooves. Hooves weren't as delicate to the elements (and to wear and tear) as bare foot-paws were. Though, truth be told, many furs went bare foot-paws all the time, anyway ... there wasn't any rule or regulation stipulating that they had to do otherwise, so ... and it was simply more natural for furs. Shoes were constricting.
"Hmm?"
"Well ... I take it you don't have much contact with the outside?"
"Outside?"
"Well, other ... species. Other furry ships, and ... stuff," the doe went, scanning some more. "I'm almost done with this one."
The echidna nodded (though the doe couldn't see the motion). "No, we ... do not. Have much contact, that is. We are rather isolated. We prefer it."
"Because ... "
" ... we desire it."
"Oh."
"We originally came from the furry home-world. As all furry species did. We simply ... chose to emigrate."
"Well, there are echidnas and platypuses on Home-world," the deer told her. "Actually." And a pause. "Is it platypuses? The plural? Platypuses, or ... "
" ... they claim it is platypi, but ... feel free to use 'platypuses'."
A giggle. "Why?"
"It annoys them." A smile. "They can be very ... brisk," the echidna explained, "on occasions. They're very unusual."
"Well, living out in the bush can do that to you." The doe slid out from underneath the console. A bit greasy. Smelling (a bit) like electrical parts. "Done."
"With all of it?" A blink.
"No, just this one. There are ... other junctions in this room, right?"
A little nod. "Over there." A point. "And over there." Pointing in another direction.
"Well, I've got my team," the deer said, bringing herself to a sit. Catching her breath for a bit. "I've got them wandering about the colony. Fixing things up. No, but ... we're gonna leave," she said, "some equipment and stuff behind. So you can do a lot of this yourselves. You'll have to learn, though."
"We are capable of learning." A bit of a smile.
"Heh ... I, uh, didn't mean to imply you weren't." A pause. A breath. "Mm ... you mind if I, uh, ask you something?"
A blink. "Yes?"
"Well ... what's it feel like?"
A blink. "What does what ... feel like?"
"Oh, I'm ... I mean ... sorry. Heh ... laying eggs. You don't give live births, do you? You lay eggs."
"We do. But I've never been pregnant."
"Ah." A pause. "Neither have I. I mean, I don't WANT to be. I'm ... still young."
"Are you?"
"Of course!" The doe, still at a sit, squinted. "Why? How old do I LOOK?"
"I wouldn't wager to guess."
"I'm only twenty-three, okay?"
The echidna nodded, looking her over. "Young, then."
"Yes." A pause. A smile. "Alright ... I told. What about you? You can't be that much older than me?"
"Thirty-five."
"What?" A blink. "No way!"
"I do not seem it?"
"Well ... I don't know. I ... and you've NEVER been pregnant?"
A little shake of the head.
"Wow," the doe whispered, standing. Getting to a stand, and leaning against one of the consoles. Letting out a breath. "I mean ... I hope to be. I mean, not NOW, obviously. But by thirty-five? I just ... someday," she whispered.
"You have a mate?"
"Yeah." A pause. "But we can't reproduce. He's ... he's a skunk, so ... "
"I see."
"Yeah." A weak, little shrug. "That's the problem about ... most inter-species mate-ships. I'll either have to be artificially impregnated, or I'll have to adopt. I can't make a baby of my own. Of our," she corrected, "own."
The echidna nodded a bit.
"But no fur really thinks that far ahead, you know, when they ... choose a mate." Pause. "It's not that I want a buck or a ... anything. I love Welly."
"Welly?"
"My mate," she explained. "Welly. Mm ... anyway, I'm a bit of a ... heh ... I'm too outgoing, you know, to settle down right now. And he's a TOTAL flirt. I mean, you should see us at parties." A smile. Her eyes darted. "We're not ready. Not at all ... and I doubt I'd make the best mother."
"You seem capable enough."
"Heh ... well ... thanks, I guess." A pause. The doe bit her lip. "But, no, I don't think so." Her eyes met the echidna's. "Anyway, I'd be afraid."
"Afraid?"
"Well ... being a good parent. Having to settle down. I mean, I'm on a star-ship. It's very rare that furs will have babies in space. It's too dangerous," the doe whispered. "I mean, it DOES happen, but it's normally ... cause the femme didn't know she'd entered the first part of her heat, or ... the male didn't wear a ... " A flush. "Furs don't really PLAN to have babies in space. Most of them wait 'til they're on a planet. Where they can settle. Take root." A pause. "Not all furs go into space in the first place, though. Just ... some of us want to. I mean, to SEE the stars? To be in the stars? To visit different furs and worlds, and ... mm ... adventure."
"I understand the appeal," the echidna replied, smiling. "Though I do not wish it for myself."
The doe took a breath. Nodded. "Mm." A pause. "Anyway ... but, yeah, egg-layers? Must be nice."
"If you're referring to the physical pain during labor ... no, it's not as severe for us."
"Yeah. Lucky."
"However, it is harder for us to get pregnant." A pause. "Each furry species has its advantages ... "
" ... and disadvantages," Bell-Bell finished for her. "It all balances out in the end. We're all equal." A smile. "Yeah, I've heard that before. They drill it into you at school."
"It is the truth."
"I know," the doe said. "I just ... I know that. I guess, sometimes, the grass is greener ... if you know what I mean?"
"And, sometimes, the greener grass is no greener. It's the same shade. It's just the way the light hits it."
"The light," the deer whispered. "Yeah." A smile. "That's a nice way to think about it."
"And you, my friend, have a nice light. You are a pleasure to know."
"Heh ... " The doe flushed. "You've only known me a few hours."
"Still ... " The echidna trailed, smiling. Smiling without teeth. For echidnas had no teeth. They had no external ears, either. Stout claws, a sensitive muzzle ... and a long, sticky tongue. And spines, too.
"You know ... you kind of remind me of a porcupine."
"Porcupine?"
"You've never met a porcupine?" A blink. "Oh ... oh, that's right. You've never left the colony. Mm. Well ... it's not like they're super-common. I mean, they're one of the furry minorities. But we do have ONE on our ship."
"Why do I remind you of a porcupine?"
"Well, the spines ... they have spines, too. They keep them flat and relaxed, though. They erect and arm when they're provoked or threatened."
"Ah. Do they lay eggs?"
"Heh ... uh, no. No ... they're actually rodents, not monotremes. So, like, they could reproduce with squirrels, chipmunks, and mice. Our porcupine just took a squirrel as his mate, actually. But ... yeah, they're rodents."
"Rodents? A rodent with quills?"
"Yep. I'll have to tell him to come down here ... so you can meet him. His name's Handel."
The echidna tilted her head in acknowledgment.
"Shall we repair the next junction?" the doe asked, smiling at her new friend. Gathering her tool-kit.
The echidna smiled. "Sure."
The platypus was draped over her back.
"Oh ... oh, y-yeah ... " A huff, huff. Her tail raised and out of the way, hanging in the air ...
He humped forward, strongly ... rocking her. His body, from head, trunk, to tail ... was broad and flattened, and covered in thick, dark-brown fur. His paws weren't true paws. Rather, webs. With a muzzle that was soft and rubbery (and shaped like a duck's bill). His eyes were a bit beady, and he had no external ears ... and on the heels of the male's webbed feet ... were spurs. Hollow spurs with venom. Built-in weapons.
"Oh! Huhh ... "
He grunted, bucking. His penis, out of its sheath, now slick with her juice. Slick and sliding in and out of her swollen, pink vagina. Her feminine tunnel. So muscular and hot, and her scent! Buck, buck ... buck. Squelch ... " ... umm. Uhm." The platypus gave a pleasured honking sound. Honk! Honk!
The femme almost laughed. What a ridiculous creature! What a silly-looking, stupid-sounding fur! What ... heh ... but ... but, no, he was doing well. Better than Herkimer ever did, Advent told herself. Oh ... oh, true. Mm. True ... fucking mouse ... " ... ooh. Ohhh ... " A spike of pleasure. His webbed paw was actually ... he was actually working her clit. Mm. "G-good ... ohhh ... boy. Good boy," she moaned, urging him on. Oh!
The jaguar, for what seemed like WEEKS ... had been in dire need of a real male. Had ... oh, had entered her heat yesterday afternoon. And ...
Honk! Hump ... squelch. Ball-sac slapping on her rump. The two furs breeding doggy-style in this marsh (a mile away from the settlement). On all fours in the mud and wild grass.
... she needed it. Needed it. Holographic yiff was just NOT the same. The body might've been somewhat fooled by it, but ... the mind? The mind KNEW, and the experience was never as fully satisfying as this. As the real thing. As ...
... " ... hmmph! Mmph!" His cock entered and left ... the heat of her. In a push and pull. In and out. Slide, slide ... squish! Oh, the sensitive rod of flesh! And, oh, the friction against hers walls (that worked up both him AND her). The platypus moaned, inching a bit higher over her backside, still draped over her. The weight of him. And how he rocked her body ... how he honked helplessly against her neck ...
... it had happened. It had happened very easily, in fact. Much easier than the jaguar had anticipated. She'd been ITCHING to get at a real fur ... for what seemed like ages. On shore leave last week, she'd been unable to find anyone. Not a surprise. Being that they'd taken their said leave ... at a prey colony. Prey didn't yiff outside of mate-ships. Them and their ... ridiculous faith. Where was the fun in that? And most of Solstice's crew-furs being prey ... and the few predators aboard STILL denying her breeding rights (for the disgrace of her having let her prey, Herkimer, break their mate-ship without her express permission) ...
... well, tail was hard to come by. Tail. Cock. Whatever.
Luckily ... platypuses WEREN'T prey. And they weren't exactly predators, either, so ... fresh meat.
It hadn't been hard. This place was chock-full of fertile, mate-less males. She verbally buttered one up (one with strong legs ... one who would give good doggy-style). Had wavered her lazy-day tail in front of his nostrils (spreading her in-heat scent).
He'd understood.
In a daze, he'd led her out here ... to the deeper, muddier marsh.
She'd needed it bad. Bad, bad ... oh, badly!
And was getting it ... good ... mm ... getting it ...
The platypus, his sweaty, fur-matted balls and belly bumping and sliding over the luscious feline's bare, hot backside ... honked again. Bill nibbling on her neck. His webbed paws squeezing her jiggling breasts ... tweaking her nipples.
Hiss!
He kept doing it. And kept humping, and ... " ... huh, huhnn ... uhhm!" Buck ... breathe, and ... buck! And breathe!
And slump. "Ohhhh ... uhhhny, uyyy ... " Honk, honk! He came. Spurt after steamy-white spurt of platypus semen. Coating her slick vaginal walls. Penis jerking, the ejaculation sending volts of unchecked pleasure back through the duck-bill's lazy, panting body, which was slumped motionless on the cat's back. Honk, honk! Orgasm!
"Mm ... mmm," was Advent's breath. The weight and scent of him, and the thrill of new semen. She'd been sowed by many males of many species. Never a platypus. And the knowledge of what they were doing, what they'd just done ... spiked her eroticism. Such vibrant lust. And ... her pussy quivered. "Oh ... ooh," she called, knowing it was coming. Her pussy milked the nearly-spent cock for its entire worth. And ... the quivers didn't stop, and ... flutter-flutter. Muscle tremors! Full-blown, orgasmic spasms. "Uhhn! Ohhn! Oh, y-yesss ... ohhh," she hissed, purring now. Purring heavily as she hung her head and shook with pure pleasure. "Oh," she gaped. "Oh ... "
The male still ... was motionless. Eyes drooping.
"Mm ... oh, that was ... needed that," Advent breathed. She shifted. "Mm ... kid ... "
The platypus gave a sleepy, "Mm?"
"You're a good fuck ... huh ... mm." She licked her lips. "L-let's go ... again."
The platypus didn't move.
"Kid," Advent purred.
"I ... I can't," he yawned helplessly, feeling SO satisfied. He'd long admired felines. He'd never dreamed of being able to breed one! Wait until he told his friends ... they'd never believe him.
"What? Kid, come on ... fuck me MORE! I'm in heat," she whined.
"I ... after platypuses orgasm," he explain softly, eyes drooping, "we get sleepy ... real ... sleepy ... "
"What?" A frown. She heaved.
"I ... it's ... nature's ... way of, uh ... ensuring we sleep with whoever we breed. So ... so we develop a deeper, romantic bond with them."
"I'm not sleeping with you!" she declared.
"B-but ... please ... my instinct ... "
" ... is YOURS. I just wanna fuck." A growl. She wriggled and writhed, and rolled through the watery mud.
The platypus, in a dozy daze, slipped to the mud. Which matched his fur. He was a semi-aquatic mammal, after all. Spent a lot of time in mud and water.
Huffing, Advent got to her knees. "I should've done an echidna," she said, shaking her head.
"Mm ... please," he yawned, sounding a bit ... desperate? With platypuses, if they didn't sleep with the fur they'd yiffed ... without the scent of that fur in their nose while in slumber, they had extremely terrible nightmares. "I NEED your scent ... in my nose ... while I sleep," he said slowly. "Please ... I need you to sleep with me," he cried
"I don't care about platypuses. I just needed to be bred," Advent said, feeling a bit foolish. Stupid platypus physiology! How was she to know she was supposed to SLEEP with him, too? She grimaced, pulling on her wet clothes. Semen dripping from her vagina, sticking to her thigh-fur. "Mm ... still, I ... feel much better," she told him. And she smiled. Chuckling as the platypus tried to speak. He was falling into a nightmare-rendered sleep. "I needed a good, REAL fuck," she said, grinning. "See ya, kid."
And the platypus, bill chattering weakly, realizing he'd just allowed himself to be used ... his eyes ... he tried to keep them open. But they sank shut. Caught in involuntary sleep ... the pure, pleasured joy of the yiff he'd just had ... about to be cancelled out by the ghostly nightmares triggered by the absence of the jaguar's scent.
And Advent stalked her way through the marsh. She'd wash up in the settlement. And then get back to the ship. But not before seeing if she could snare an echidna, too. After all, she WAS in heat.
And if she had to use these innocent furs to feel sated?
So what?
She was a predator. A huntress.
And who was going to stop her?
Simultaneously (though in orbit, on Solstice), and in contrast to his ex-mate's lusty, predatory yiff ...
... Herkimer, naked and squatting ... licked the pink, delicate lips of Opal's vulva. He tilted his head ever-so-slightly, ensuring that his twitching whiskers tickled her labia. As his tongue pushed between those folds. He exhaled a soft, hot breath.
The cow inhaled, feeling the moist heat on her pussy. And feeling his wet, worming tongue. She was sitting on her desk in stellar cartography. No clothes on. Her large, lactating breasts drooping heavily. She was sitting on the edge, legs spread, so the squatting mouse (his ball-sac and cock hanging loosely and visibly between his bent legs) could pleasure her fully.
Her pussy was loose (being a cow). Her lips were luscious. The perimeters covered with the most velvet-like strands of cow-fur. He licked those furs. Matted all of it. And outside the thin perimeter of short velvet-furs ... were the customary thicker tufts of fur that normally surrounded and warmed a femme's pussy.
Opal's eyes squinted shut. Her ears flip-flapping audibly.
Herkimer opened his muzzle, surrounding his mouth around her fur-tufts. And sucked on the fur, dribbling his saliva all over. And moving back (again) to those pussy-lips. Pink, fleshy ... and swapping fluids with his greedy, careful tongue. He licked all around.
Her legs inched open ... a bit more.
He tried to tongue-fuck her, and he could lick and lap at her vagina ... but couldn't tongue-fuck. So, he buried his muzzle, his nose heady on the yiffy scent of pure femme. He buried and mouthed, and sucked ... before kissing and nibbling his way back up, up ...
... to her clitoris. Her jewel. Maybe not, for him, anywhere near as special or desirable as her vagina ... but he knew, for her, the clitoris was important. And, besides, it was so cute ... how could he help himself? He had to lip-nibble ...
... which made her moan. A moan very close to a moo.
Lip-nibble, lip-nibble, and draw invisible saliva-shapes on it with his tongue ...
This time, the Jersey DID moo. Moo ...
It was music to the mouse's ears. And encouragement. Keep going, keep going ... and slip two fingers into her vagina. Pump them like a penis. Curl the fingers up. Rub her walls ...
"Huhnn, uhhn ... huh, huh!" The cow panted with sharp, hot pleasure. Starting to lose it. Starting to ... to ...
Herkimer, for a split second, was so tempted to stand and have intercourse ... but ... but, no. It would be so unfair on her. He loved her body so much. It was beautiful. To stop giving her oral now, when she was this close, just to ... give HIMSELF more pleasure ... would've been selfish. He wasn't gonna hurt her like that ... so, he continued to give her muzzle. As he continued to finger-fuck her ... as ... as ...
... she huffed hard, slumping a bit, letting out a moo (or two). Letting out a moan. A sustained, "Ohhh ... ohhh ... " Spiking, tremor-like pussy-spasms. Fluttering, flaring, wracking her lower half. The pleasure not contained to just there. But spreading everywhere. Causing her whole body to flush and tingle ... causing her to grunt and moan.
The mouse let up on his stimulation, letting her orgasm ... letting it happen. And letting any little squirts from her ... drip to his lips. Licking at her while she came. Just licking at the lips. Softly, up and down. Careful not to over-do the sensitivity. Using his very good, very dishy ears to gage her reactions ...
"Oh ... huh." A swallow. A deep breath from her. Her eyes half-open. "Oh ... oh, Herkimer." She cleared her throat. Sniffed a bit. Ears flapping. "Oh," she moaned, at the tail-end of her climax, and ... so content. So happy.
The mouse, erect and hyped-up, panting a bit, got to his knees. And looked up at her. Paws caressing her legs. He smiled ... it gave him a flush of pleasure to see HER pleasured. Really, her happiness mattered more than his. Mice might've been timid and submissive and all that, but ... he still, as a male, felt an instinctual urge to take care of her. His femme. His mate.
"Oh ... my baby. Come on," she huffed. "You ... you need ... "
The mouse was already standing, penis rigid ... already hitting her pussy-lips. Missing. A squeak, and another try, and ... up and in. Unbelievable wetness and warmth. A natural sheath for his member. The essence of femininity soaking and stimulating his mouse-hood. "Ohhh ... oh," he breathed. So good. Hump ... hump ... he wasn't gonna last long! Not after making out with her pussy like he'd done ...
Opal huffed, giggling at his loving enthusiasm ... and gasping as his muzzle suckled her nipples. Milk! Milk ... he drank her milk, eyes-closed, while erratically standing and humping up at his sitting, pleasured mate ... and ...
... beep-beep.
The comm.
Both furs, huffing ... froze! Opal mouthing that she'd get it. Hitting the comm button on the desk, asking, "W-what?"
It was Aria. "I am sorry to disturb you on your lunch break ... however, I thought it fair to inform you that the Captain and Audrey have agreed to give a tour of the ship," she said, "to a group of the egg-laying mammals."
"Oh ... "
"I thought I should inform you," the snow rabbit repeated softly. Having correctly guessed they'd be yiffing down here.
Opal flushed. Feeling Herkimer quiver. The mouse wasn't even moving, but ... his penis was being so pleasurably marinated that he was THIS close to releasing. The mouse, biting his lip, began to squeak from the throat. He couldn't help it!
"Fifteen minutes," Aria said, answering the unasked question. "They'll be here in fifteen minutes."
Herkimer ejaculated. Quivering violently, quietly. Slobbering on Opal's milk-dripping breasts.
"Um ... fifteen minutes?" Opal asked, flushing hard.
"Yes."
"Thanks for the, uh ... warning," Opal managed, flushing more.
"You are welcome." The channel was cut.
Herkimer, huffing and panting audibly now, swallowed, licking his own lips. "You, uh ... think she heard me?"
"I don't know," the cow confessed. "But she KNEW what we were doing. Otherwise, she wouldn't have called ... mm ... heh ... "
Herkimer giggled a bit. "It IS our lunch break. I mean, our choice of meals is ... "
" ... a popular choice?" Most furs yiffed on their lunch breaks. It's not like they were the only ones. But it was SO awkward when the comm rang DURING a yiff ...
"Mm ... I don't know. I just ... " The mouse pulled out of her, and ... nuzzled her with his twitching, sniffing nose. "I just ... love you," he whispered. Beaming. Glowing. Flushed with residual heat. The blood in his rosy-pink, erogenous ears now beginning to filter out. "Mm. I love you," he repeated.
She wrapped her arms around the mouse. "I love you, too," she replied. And, after a pause, "But we need to shower. Quickly."
A giggle-squeak. That much was apparent.
Ross wandered into sickbay. Poking his nose around. Sniffing the air.
"I'm over here."
The vole blinked. And saw Welly ... not in his office, but on the other side of sickbay.
"I'm running some diagnostics."
"Oh." The meadow mouse padded toward him. "Mm ... I can go away, if ... "
" ... no, hey, you're not bothering me."
"Well, if I am ... "
"Well, you're not." A smile from the skunk. "So, what brings you here? Mm?"
"Well ... I don't know. I ... I don't really have anything to DO, you know? I mean, I've been granted asylum," he said, taking a seat. Sighing. " ... on this ship, but ... mm ... "
"You're antsy? You want a job like everyone else?"
A quiet nod.
"Why not go see Aria?"
"She's on the bridge. And ... a group of echidnas and platypuses are gonna be here soon. It's best if I stay out of the way while she watches them." A pause. "Not that they're the dangerous sort, but anytime furs come on the ship who AREN'T crew-furs, she keeps a close eye on them. Mm ... I ... anyway ... "
"So, you decided you'd hang out in sickbay, hmm?" The skunk finished whatever it was he was doing at the wall console. And padded toward Ross. "You like science? Medicine?"
Ross shook his head. "No."
"Oh. Heh ... well, I was gonna say ... you could be a medical assistant for me, but ... "
" ... I get woozy when I see blood and ... inside organs," the meadow mouse said.
"Hmm. Well ... "
"I thought I could work in the galley."
"Help Chef?"
"Mm ... yeah. But you know how possessive Chef is," the vole said, "of his kitchen." The kitchen was stocked with foodstuffs from the hydroponics bay, as well as food acquired from the food processors.
"Heh ... true enough," Welly said, sitting on the med bed that Ross was now sitting on.
There was a pause.
"If you wanna work in the galley, I'm sure Advance can arrange it. After all, HE'S the Captain. Not Chef."
"Mm." A blink. "Does Chef have a name?"
"Well ... " The skunk faltered. "I don't know. I just always call him Chef ... "
"Mm." Another blink. "Come to think of it, I've never seen his face! Like, every time you see him, he's ... he's behind pots and pans, or ... turns away from you just before you look."
Welly chuckled. "Maybe Chef's not really here. Maybe ... heh ... maybe he's just a living in-joke."
A small silence. Filled with the beeps and whirs of the computer equipment in the sickbay.
"This is a stupid conversation, isn't it?" Ross asked quietly.
"No. No, it's fine. But, hey ... I think that's a good idea. If you like food, and you like to cook, and you're not trained to be an officer ... what better place for you than the mess hall? Mm?"
Ross smiled. "Yeah. You really think Advance will let me work in there?"
"I don't see why not," the skunk admitted. "You're worrying too much."
"I'm a ... "
" ... mouse. I know." A smile. "Look, I'll talk to him, okay? Later, I'll ask him ... "
"Thanks, Welly. Mm ... " The mouse got up off the med bed.
"Leaving so soon?" the skunk asked.
"Well ... I don't know. I don't wanna bug you," Ross repeated.
"I already told you: you're not. So ... come on, we can talk and stuff. Help me sort some files ... "
Ross nodded. "Okay," he said, smiling, whiskers twitching. And he followed Welly into his office, saying, "First thing ... when I get in the mess hall. I'm going to make cookies!"
"You make cookies?" The skunk smiled.
"All kinds."
"Sweet," the skunk replied.
Ross giggle-squeaked, nodding. Yes, it was ... he now had a job!