FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The moon hung low in the sky, only a few hours from setting. Five figures stood in the dark, just outside a chalk line in the grass, waiting for their moment. The Manor stood silent in the harsh floodlights, almost looking like a normal house, until a soft click and the slow creak of the front door opening signaled its invitation. The dog took point, and the others followed him over the line.

Each was armed with a high powered flashlight, and a small gear bag. They packed light, carried no weapons, and wore reflective vests. They weren't mercenaries, but they were still in a combat zone.

The dog reached the porch, then the cat. The stallion and fox caught up at a jog, while the rat trailed up the rear. He had the largest bag, despite his small frame. Unfortunately, he was their electrician.

"Alright, hallway looks clear," the cat said, leading into the doorway with her light. "Keep away from the walls."

The dog moved forward, then froze as the intercom crackled to life.

"movement in the second floor hall, it's unclear if they've seen you yet," the old wolf's voice came down from above.

The dog and cat exchanged a look. "Abort?" The dog asked, but the cat shook her head.

"We can get by with a distraction," the cat said. The dog looked at her. Then the rest of the team with concern plain on his face.

"I can do it," the stallion volunteered.

The cat nodded, but the dog shook his head. "Too risky, it doesn't matter how big you are."

The stallion huffed and rolled his eyes. "Grow a pair, man," he said, and stepped forward. Even if he was sleight for his species, the horse stood nearly seven feet tall, dwarfing the rest of the team. The dog said nothing, and the stallion nodded to himself as if confirming something.

"Think, Keller," the cat said, "he's got mile-long legs and those thick-ass hooves. He can run like hell, and make a racket to boot."

The dog looked to the rest of the team, the rat and fox both shrugged. "Alright," the dog said reluctantly, "the third floor hallway is a loop, you may be able to kite them around it."

The stallion huffed. "I saw the map too."

"The map doesn't show the patio roof."

The horse looked down to the dog, surprised at his cool. "Patio is off the rear, yeah?"

The dog nodded. "If they block the stairs, there's windows on the back leg of the hall."

The stallion nodded, and was off. The porch boards rattled with the force of his hooves. The laughter started shortly after, the rat cringed away from the doorway.

In his trailer, the wolf watched the stallion go up each flight of stairs. The shadows followed, growing in number with each door passed. The wolf reached for his microphone and pressed the button. "looks like it's working for the moment, the second floor hall is clear," he said. Behind him, a mare in a lab coat looked on nervously, occasionally looking down to scribble a note on her clipboard.

"Don't they hear him?" The rat asked, his voice shaking.

"They're dumb as rocks," the cat said, "doesn't make them any less dangerous."

They went in single file, with the cat taking point. The fox paused briefly to pull a doorstop from his bag, and wedge it under the open door before disappearing inside. The foyer was largely as the dog remembered, though with far less blood painting the walls. A hall disappeared towards the back, that was the kitchen and the basement. Both zones were off limits with their current knowledge. The stairs leading up bore hoof prints in the thick dust.

"Clear," the dog said after checking the corners. They moved up the stairs, cringing from the muffled screams and giggles from above. They reached the second floor landing, and the dog held out his arm. The team held back while he scanned its length with his flashlight. Dust fell in clumps from the ceiling in time with the stallion's hooves.

"Tables are clear to the end " the dog said, and stepped aside. "You're on, Jason."

The rat almost didn't respond to his name, then suddenly jerked into motion. The cat followed him down the hall while the dog and fox remained, keeping their lights trained on each direction of stairs.

The master bedroom's entrance was a double door, held shut with an old latch and key. The cat slid to her knees as they approached and peered through the keyhole. She nodded, and pulled a ring of what looked like keys from her belt.

"Wait, I thought we didn't have the key," the rat said.

"We don't," the cat said. She slid a length of smooth metal into the lock, then drove a fine hook in after it. "I don't need one."

The dog counted the seconds under his breath as the cat worked the lock.

"You waiting for something?" the fox asked him, his eyes far too wide in the dark.

"Last time we made it five minutes before-"

"We're in!" the cat said, keeping her voice low. The rat slipped through the door and dashed for the corner.

Bookshelves filled with ruined tomes lined the walls of the Master Bedroom, and a curtained bed sat at its heart. Moths had eaten through most of the fabric on and surrounding it, leaving only a pile of feathers and tattered cloth framed by four skeletal posts at each corner. The rat dropped his bag, and pulled a step stool out from it. Then came the camera, and the battery pack, then finally the drill. It would only take a couple minutes to screw it into place and get it online, but their window was measured in seconds.

"Fuck!" The stallion shouted from above.

"Should we-" the fox began, but was cut off by the sharp crackle of the intercom.

"Nathan has been cornered upstairs away from the windows, you have thirty seconds before they come for you," the wolf's cool voice barked from above.

"Not enough time!" the rat called, "Should we bail?"

"Mission prerogative is your discretion," The wolf said plainly. He leaned back from his microphone, his arms shaking despite himself. The Doctor put a heavy hand on his shoulder to steady him. He fixed his gaze on the twelfth monitor, showing nothing but static yet. "They're so close..."

The fox looked to the dog for guidance but found his partner gone, only a trail of paw prints led up the stairs. New shouting came from above. "Hey kitty, Max! Keller just ran for it!" the fox shouted down the hall, starting to panic.

The cat ran without thinking, and hit the stairs at a sprint. The third floor hall split in two directions, but the commotion came from the right. A wall of jostling shadows blocked the way, and through them, she saw the Stallion swinging wildly with a broken chair leg. The shadows ducked back from his blows playfully, relishing his increasing frenzy. Max knew they were savoring their meal, a chair leg meant nothing to them no mater how hard he swung it. She took off again, and leapt up on to one of the hall tables before diving over the crowd into the stallion. He caught her with his arm, and nearly flung her, until she sunk her claws in. The fog in his eyes cleared with the pain, and he recognized her.

"Cat?" he asked, sounding drunk.

The cat dropped, and broke into a run down the hall again. The dog lay against the wall further down, cradling his arm.

"Keller!" the cat skidded to her knees to assess his wounds. Shallow cuts along his arms, three neat lines. Something had clawed him. It wasn't bleeding much, not yet.

"Get him out the window, he's in a frenzy." the dog said, stumbling to get his paws beneath him.

The cat looked up, and realized they were on the rear side of the house. The dog had managed to reposition their team mate, but he was too far gone to notice. The Shadows shrieked with renewed fervor, they were done teasing.

"Right," the cat said, and dashed for the Stallion. He whipped to face her, length of wood at the ready. He swung, but caught nothing but air as she slipped below the blow. She crashed into him with her shoulder, and took his leg out from under him at the knee. The towering horse tipped, and she rose, leveraging his weight against the window. The glass shattered, but his wide frame got caught in the sill. The glass dug fresh cuts along the horse's arms and back, painting the wood frame black in the moonlight. The shadows cheered, and blood began to seep from the floorboards. "Drop you moron!" the cat shouted. The Stallion blinked his eyes clear, realizing where he was. He nodded once, and let himself roll through into the night air. There were a horrible few seconds of silence before a crash and the splintering of wood rose from below.

The cat spun and sprinted back to the dog. "Don't move," she ordered, and lifted him up over her shoulders in a fireman's carry.

The wolf gripped his cane tightly, gritting his teeth. "Two stories to the patio," the mare spoke, her voice soothing and soft. "Broken bones but not fatal. Recovery is two months." The wolf nodded, and lessened his grip on the cane. He turned his eye back to the twelfth monitor, and froze. The static cleared briefly, then turned black. A new sound came from the bank, the rat muttering under his breath.

"Come on come on come on," he said over and over. There was a click, and the feed went live. The Master Bedroom came into view now, and center frame was the rat's satisfied grin. He looked relieved, but the wolf couldn't share it. The walls were pouring blood, unnoticed, and behind the rat a grinning shadow crept up with a long kitchen knife. Its eyes and mouth were jagged cracks in the air, filled with dull red fire. The wolf lunged for the intercom.

"Jason move!"

The rat recoiled away from the lens and turned, too late. The shade plunged its knife through the rat's chest, and began shrieking with laughter. The rat fell out of frame silently, and the shade bent itself over him, bringing the knife up and down over and over again.

The wolf snarled and ripped the intercom mic from the table before smashing it on the floor.

Unnoticed by the wolf, two monitors to the left, the Fox finally broke, muttering "fuck this," before sprinting down the stairs. One monitor to the right, two shadows waited for him in the foyer, but were too sluggish to claim him before he was out the door and gone. The mare stepped back from the wolf reluctantly. It was time for personnele recovery, and she would be needed for the Stallion.

A small crowd had formed at the edge of the exclusion zone, but parted to let the doctor through. The fox had collapsed shaking on the grass, while two medics looked him over. The mare broke into a run and took a wide path around the Manor. Seconds later, the cat emerged limping, dragging the dog by his arm. A trail of blood smeared in their wake, though the source was unclear. Nothing pursued them past the doorway. The crowd began to muttered nervously. People began asking after the rat and horse.

"Where's Willow?" the cat asked as she crossed the line. The dog groaned incoherently.

"She's getting Nate," one of the tech's answered. The cat looked back just as the mare emerged from the Manor's shadow. The stallion was slung over her shoulder, bleeding all over her lab coat. It seemed he could still walk, but his arm was in bad shape. A deep gash marred his hand, and it looked broken in at least two places. The stallion blinked against the lights, counting the figures along the line. "Where's Rat?" he asked.

"Still ins... Jason's gone," the mare said grimly.

The stallion's eyes flared wide. "No," he said, and lurched fully upright. The mare stumbled back in surprise. She caught her balance and lunged for him, but he was already gone, trailing blood towards the porch. The voices within the Manor cheered. The mare chased him to the door, but skid to a shuddering stop, her legs shaking badly.

"Fuck!" the doctor bellowed. Trying not to cry. Reluctantly, she turned back to the line. She kept her eyes low the whole way. As she reached the crowd, she caught the dog's eye. He was lying flat on his back while the cat and a medic assessed his wounds. His eyes had cleared somewhat, but wore the same dismal cast as her own.

"Three's better than none," the dog said grimly. The mare nodded, but said nothing.

A new sound ripped through the clearing: screams. Not the usual kind, there were hundreds of them, furious and seething. The mare looked back, daring to hope as her colleagues shrank further back from the line. The stallion stood on the lawn, holding the bloody body of the rat in his arms, only identifiable by his face. The stallion collapsed. The mare leapt back to her hooves, and the cat followed only a few paces behind. Shadows crowded out through the front door, reluctant to step outside, but too enraged to retreat. The mare went for the rat first, and checked his pulse. For a horrible second she felt none, then weakly, she felt his heart straining to live.

"She's alive!" the doctor cried, letting her tongue slip in the moment. No one seemed to notice. She scooped the rat up, and sprinted for the line.

"Really?" the cat shouted as she tried to drag the stallion on her own. The shadows drew ever closer. Unfurling countless ephemeral talons and claws. The cat frantically yanked the pile of muscle to no avail. Her eyes flitted between the stallion's face and the advancing shades with growing panic. She swallowed hard, realizing it was too late. She had tried at least. She turned to bolt, and found an unlikely ally with her now.

"Let's go!" the fox said, and locked his thin hands around one of the stallion's massive wrists. The cat grabbed the other and yanked with all her might. He moved, barely, but once he was sliding it got easier. The shadows howled, straining to move faster, but the further they got from the door, the slower they moved. Halfway to the exclusion zone, they grew quiet, and retreated back to the door. A pair of medics swarmed the stallion like flies as they pulled him over the line. Silently, almost unnoticed by the crowd, the front door of the Manor gently swung shut, its lock clicked shut.

The wolf in the chair sat, clenching his fists as all twelve monitors cut to silent static. The Manor closed itself to him once more. He took a deep, shuddering breath, and let out a small whimper, thankful he was alone.

---

Nathan made his way to the bath trailer, while trying to ignore the wide berth the staff were giving him. He knew his hooves were falling with much more force than he'd meant to, but he was pissed. They should be afraid of him, he thought. He felt fucking powerful, but that had meant nothing in the house. He snorted his frustration and shook his head. His thoughts were hazy, like he'd been drinking, and refused to clear. That only made him madder. He decided that was his mood then: mad. Everything kept building to that, so he should own it. His arm was mangled and in a sling, and that pissed him off too. It made him look weaker, but he knew he only needed one arm to ruin someone's face. Secretly, he hoped someone would give him a reason to.

He was pissed at the mare, that Doctor Willow. She had refused to treat him herself, and that felt deliberate. A small voice in his head reminded him the state the rat was in, that she was their only surgeon, and he almost caught himself. Then he remembered the medic that had stitched him shut, constantly asking if he was okay, feeling sorry for him. Of course he wasn't okay, it fucking hurt, but he couldn't just say that. He had bled a lot, but he was a big man, he had a lot of blood to begin with. Hadn't they ever worked on a horse before?

He threw the trailer door open, not even thinking there could be someone inside, and scowled when he saw the dog looking up at him, half in shock. He wore only a towel around his waist, red in spots from blood. His fur was sopping wet still. "Keller," Nate said flatly. A hot mist filled the room, dulling Nate's senses further.

Keller nodded, keeping those big brown eyes trained on Nate's own. Was that fear in his face? No, he was too calm. He was cocky. Nate decided. Nate appraised the dog's wounds, and huffed. He had some deep cuts by the looks of those stains, but he could still use all his limbs. Yet he'd let himself be carried out by that chick half his size, what was with that? It pissed Nate off. It pissed him off more that a man like Keller had any kind of authority on their team. All he had wanted to do was run from the start. Nothing would have gotten done if Nate hadn't been around, or that cat. What the hell was Keller's role anyway?

"You okay?" Keller asked softly, pissing Nate off even more. Was that pity?

Nate stomped towards the puny dog and glowered down at him. "The fuck do you care?"

Keller did not shrink away, but a look Nate didn't like came into his eyes. "Look man, you're my teammate, I just thought I'd-"

Nate couldn't bear another second of this garbage. He pushed Keller back into the wall with his good arm, knocking him off balance. Keller stumbled as Nate turned for the shower, then stupidly, the dog opened his mouth again.

"Nate, everyone made it, so you can relax."

Nate froze, clenching his fist. It would be so easy to crush the pup's tiny throat, even with one hand. Before Nate knew what he was doing, Keller was pinned against the wall and gagging. Nate dragged him up to his own eye level by the neck while the dog's paws kicked and flailed fruitlessly.

Nate's heart hammered in his chest, feeling his own power. He could destroy Keller if he wanted to, nothing could stop him. He looked into those big brown eyes, and was surprised by their lack of fear. Something else was in them, not resignation, not rebellion either. They burned with a unique and interesting light. Nate leaned in close, smelling Keller's blood as he studied the dog's face. His throat felt warm beneath his palm, and his fur was soft. Everything about the moment felt perfect, felt right. Nate leaned forward without thinking, and pressed his mouth against Keller's, feeling the warmth of his lips, but Keller did not respond. Nate's eyes fluttered open. The look in Keller's eyes had changed, a different flame burned. The moment was wrong.

Nate stumbled back, dropping Keller gracelessly. Suddenly, Nate felt far too large for this room, everything in it felt much too fragile. Keller rose, rubbing his neck.

"So that's how it is," Keller said simply. There was no hatred in his voice, and that somehow made it worse. Nate turned, and ducked back out through the door. The air felt suddenly cold against his short, mottled fur. He closed his eyes, trying to regain some calm. What was wrong with him? Was he just scared? His whole body felt like it was burning. Cuts burned and itched, his arm steadily throbbed and ached, his hackles were raised making him agitated, and worst of all, his groin tingled with some kind of anticipation. He was worked up in every way, and disgusted all the more by it. It was too confusing to sift through, and too dangerous to be around others right now, that much was clear. He needed to find some place else, some place alone, where he could cool off. Somewhere he could blow off steam if he had to.

He set off back through camp, but everywhere was much too busy. Fields surrounded the base on three sides, split only by the dirt access road leading back to civilization. To the south sat a forest, inside which was nested the manor. Privacy was what he wanted, as much as he didn't want to go near the house again. He returned to the exclusion zone, and studied the chalk line in the grass. It was about five-hundred feet out from the Manor's porch, and would keep shifting out as he understood it. It was hard to see the curve up close, but looking around, he saw it formed a wide circle around the Manor's grounds, dipping through the woods in places. He decided to follow the line around back.

He felt a bit better once he was out of the light of camp, even if the floodlights always shone at least a little on him. Once he'd moved around to the back of the house, he felt safe he wouldn't be seen. He looked up at the back of the Manor, trying to spot the window he'd fallen from. Four of them lined what looked like the third floor, and frustratingly, all of them were in tact. It felt unfair that he would get shredded by it, and not even leave a mark himself. His eyes trailed down to the Patio. Stone tile marked the space, dotted with molding wicker furniture. A massive pergola sat above on six posts. Nate remembered vaguely crashing through the rotting boards, then into the stone, but that too had repaired itself to an in-tact, of moldering state. Two great glass doors led inside, but only darkness lay within. Nate felt like she should be able to see at least a little bit inside from here, but shook his head. He hadn't come to sight see. He'd come to be alone.

He continued a good way into the woods, keeping the halo glow of the floodlights to his back, and found a natural dip in the terrain. A fallen tree lay across the clearing, making a perfect bench for his large frame, and he let out a sigh of relief as he sat down. He brought his gaze back up towards the manor, and froze. A shadow stood framed but the dim light at the lip of the clearing. Fight or Flight kicked in, and Nate leapt to his feet, but something was off. The shadow was too dark, its edges too hard. It wasn't from the Manor, it was one of the living.

"Hey," The fox said, his tone hard to read. Nate couldn't see his face, couldn't read his expression, but decided he didn't actually care. He sat back down, and looked away, trying to ignore his visitor. Annoyingly, the fox stepped down into his space, and closed the gap, His green eyes came dimly into view as he drew close, a knowing smile on his face. "Couldn't help but see you sneak off."

Nate huffed. "So you saw I wanted to be alone, and followed me?" he asked. The fox felt much too small next to him. His hand still tingled from the warmth of Keller's throat.

"Maybe I wanted the same thing?"

Nate rolled his eyes. "Bud, I don't even know your name."

"Doesn't that make it better?" the fox asked, "I felt it too, it was horrible inside, terrifying, but when I was out, I felt... alive. On fire. I know you feel it too, I saw the way you were stomping around, huffing and grunting. Why not blow off some of that steam?"

A pile of words leapt for Nate's mouth. He turned, leveling his gaze on the fox's own, trying to look intimidating. What should he say? Grill the fox for assuming his sexuality? He could, but the fox wasn't wrong. Tell him off for being so forward? Remind him of his many serious injuries? He wanted to yell, and had a thousand reasons to, but his mouth wouldn't work. His brain was on fire. It was already too late though, his body had spoken for him, as the fox's eyes informed him. They dipped down, appraising the growing bulge in the horse's pants. He licked his chops, and Nate groaned internally, realizing why the fox had followed him in particular.

"Seems you agree with me," the fox said, his own pants forming a tent as he drank in the view.

Nate hesitated. He didn't want to, knew he shouldn't. He knew he was just meat to the fox, clearly a shameless size queen. Sex would mean nothing between them, lead to nothing between them, and Nate had never been about that. And yet. His body burned, he couldn't deny his urge to. He was horny as hell, and that was the one fire he could quench at the moment. He didn't want to reward the fox, didn't want to play the dumb horse with a big cock, but he did want it. He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth as he clung to the last scraps of willpower he had left. He sighed, breaking. Fine, he decided. If the fox wanted a big boy so badly, he would show him what it really meant.

Nate's hand leapt to the fox's shoulder. The fox giggled and leaned in. Nate gripped at the fox's shirt, puling it up and off, exposing the fox's lean chest to the chill night air. His soft white fur seemed to glow in the dark, and Nate ran his hand through it, appraising the toned muscle hidden beneath. The fox's breath came in ragged gasps as Nate's hand trailed lower, and grabbed hold of his belt. The fox's hands slid under Nate's shirt and grasped at his chest, drinking in the hardness of his muscles.

Nate wasted no time freeing the fox from the rest of his clothes. The fox's pale pink shaft stood at full attention, its knot just starting to swell. Nate grabbed it, his warm palm swallowing it entirely as he pumped it roughly. The fox moaned and pressed against him, burying his face in the stallion's chest. "Fuck!" he gasped. His ears fell flat back against his head, overwhelmed by the sensation. Nate's own cock throbbed to be free, hungering for more. Nate bit his lip, trying to keep his head clear, but it was too much. The fox felt too right against him, his fur too soft. Those gasps and moans stirred something primal within Nate, something that refused to lie still once woken. His own breath grew ragged, and the last of his resistance faded. If he was going to use the fox, then he may as well put him to use.

Nate stepped back, letting the fox stumble as he let space between them. The fox looked up to him, half in a daze, then new light leapt into his eyes as Nate undid his button and fly, and finally let his manhood free. The fox fell to his knees, smiling giddily as he admired all eight inches of his prize. He wrapped a delicate hand around it, just barely getting his fingers all the way around its thickness, then trailed his other hand down to Nate's heavy balls. Nate left his pants around his ankles, and placed his hand over the fox's head. The fox got the message, and hungrily swallowed his tip. Nate groan as the warmth hit him. The fox moaned around his meat as it flared in his mouth, painting his tongue with a dollop of pre. The fox set to work bobbing on what he could fit into his mouth, and kept one hand busy working the rest of Nate's cock; the other kept busy frantically pumping his own shaft, now sporting a full knot.

Nate moaned and sighed as his eyes drifted shut. The fox was good, drowning him in the pleasure of it. The fox's tongue ran itself busily over the underside of his cock, desperate for more and more precum. It would be so easy to let him finish, and with how frantically he was working his own meat, Nate knew the fox would be happy to. Nate wouldn't let him though, he had a message to send. He pulled the fox off his cock roughly. The fox gasped for air and looked up at him dizzly, then grinned, annoying Nate even more. Nate pushed him down, bending him over the log, and the fox dutifully lifted his tail out of the way.

Nate knelt down and wrapped his hand around the fox's dangling cock. He placed his thumb at the base, and ran it up his length firmly, milking a thick drip of slippery precum from the tip. The fox shuddered, and swished his tail happily. Nate worked it into his fingers, as he appraised the fox's ass. It was well toned, and the white fur of his belly ended at his thighs. It formed a perfect heart set inside the round frame of his fiery orange fur. His asshole sat pink and ready at the center, a perfect target demanding Nate's attention.

He slipped two fingers in roughly, surprised with the ease of it. The fox gasped and arched his back, his tail swishing faster. He was ready, Nate realized, just dry. Nate leaned down, and dragged his wide tongue between the fox's cheeks, drawing another gasp from him. Four slow licks left the fox dripping wet, and shuddering for more. Nate had waited long enough. He rose, and lined up his broad tip, and pressed himself in. Nate moaned as the fox's asshole popped open around him, and warmth swallowed his cock. The fox yipped from the shock, then let out a low moan as he was stretched wide. Nate bottomed out with a third of his cock to go. He held himself deep for a few seconds relishing the fox's pulse and twitching around his cock. His balls ached for more, he started pumping.

The fox remained quiet, only managing the occasional gasp or groan. Nate wasn't sure if he was enjoying it, and that spurred him on more. He thrust faster, not letting the fox get comfortable, using every inch of his girth to give the fox what he was after. A wicked grin spread across Nate's face, taking pleasure in giving the fox more than he bargained for. A new noise came from the fox's mouth, breaking Nate's focus, a deep guttural moan. The fox bit down on his thumb to stifle it. Suddenly Nate was not satisfied to take him from behind, he needed to see more. He didn't believe the fox could be enjoying such a rough fuck. He needed to see.

Nate reached around and grabbed the fox with his good arm. He pulled the fox upright, pinning his arms against his chest. The fox's thumb popped out of his mouth as his back arched to compensate, and he let out a whimpering moan. Nate folded the fox against him and looked down. The fox's cock was throbbing stiff, straining against his belly and drooling precum. Nate felt defeated, but another feeling overwhelmed it. Nate realized what he'd been denying. The fox was hot, and upon seeing him whimpering and moaning on his cock like a whore, ready to burst just from being fucked, Nate's thoughts changed. He had to know if he could fuck the cum out of this fox.

Nate's arms clamped down, keeping the fox's hands away from his cock, and doubled down, crashing his hips into the fox's ass over and over. The fox's moan rose to a yell as Nate barreled into the home stretch. Nate's own cock ached with the need to cum, but he fought it, his eyes locked on the fox's shaft, silently demanding he cum. Seconds felt like minutes as Nate held on, then finally the dam broke. The fox yelped, his pink shaft finally spurting out his ultimate submission, He painted the log white with streaks of his cum. His whole body writhed and bucked against Nate helplessly, and Nate's head yielded to instinct. He bottomed out as deep as the fox's ass would allow him, and unloaded. He flooded the fox with his seed, claiming him with each throb of his cock, and even the fox's ass surrendered, unable to hold all of it inside him.

Nate dropped the fox roughly against the log, his cock slipping free with a pop. The fox lay trembling and gasping, his tail swishing happily as cum oozed out of his hole and down his balls. Nate's thought's returned to him, and he realized what he'd done. Shame washed over him again. The pain of his wounds returned, now worse from the exertion. He rose, stuffing his messy cock inside his pants and left the fox laying in his afterglow without another word.

---

"Probably been a while since you did this," Dr. Willow said, enjoying herself far too much. The blade needed two hands to pull, and Nate only had one for a couple months yet. He'd only been in a sling for three days so far, and already hated it.

"Shut up," Nate said, almost with a whine. He felt awkward lying face-down on the cot. He got to keep his pants on at least, but that was almost worse. Not that he felt any particular chemistry with the mare, but there was a certain satisfaction Nate felt bearing himself before a woman, even if she stood a full six inches taller than him. Dr. Willow straddled his leg facing backward, and brought the hooked blade to bear against his hoof. He flinched, anticipating some pain despite knowing better. There were inches of wall before she reached the quick. Perhaps he just wasn't used to being vulnerable.

"You're what, twenty-seven?" Dr. Willow asked.

"Twenty-one years," Nate said, skipping the question. His parents had let him start trimming his own hooves when he was six. Dr. Willow hummed as she worked, and Nate bore the embarrassment as best he could.

"Do they like keep growing?" a voice asked from behind a curtain. Both horses paused and looked over. Half the tent was a quarantine zone, restricted from access to all except the doctor.

"Jason?" Nate asked cautiously.

"Careful, don't upset him," Dr. Willow said softly, "he's lost a lot of blood and is tiny to boot. The corruption is really doing a number on him."

Nate hesitated. That was a word they liked to throw around a lot in camp, but it never felt quite real to him. They even took measurements the day after, once Dr Willow was done with surgery. Dog had 10%, cat was 18%, fox dipped the moment he had his check, and the Doctor herself read a flat 50%. Nate's reading stunned the room: 3%. He supposed he'd been feeling off since the Manor, but nothing that he couldn't chalk up to frustration. Still, he worried about the rat. They told him what he'd done, but he honestly had no memory of it. He just remembered coming to in the medical tent while the rat lay screaming behind the curtain.

"Yeah," Nate said. Normally he found these questions tedious, no matter how well meaning. A certain group always seemed attractive to people like him. Intrigued by his size and wondering if it held true in his pants. They were always shocked when it came with drawbacks. "Let em grow too much and you can roll your ankle. Or split it entirely."

"Sounds painful," Jason said dreamily.

"Normally I'd do it myself, but my arm is fucked."

"No shame in needing help," Jason said.

Nate huffed. He hated the thought. Hut he supposed it was true. He wasn't asking for help. He needed it. He supposed he could take pride in recognizing the difference. Dr. Willow steadily shucked off layers of hoof for a few silent minutes before switching to the other leg. Strangely, the rat started humming to himself, and giggling. It was some pop song Nate almost recognized. Nate said nothing until Dr. Willow had finished, then as he sat upright and tested his hooves, he whispered to her.

"Is he okay?" Nate asked cautiously.

Dr. Willow hesitated, seeming to struggle internally. "He's on a lot of medication right now"

Nate nodded, as if understanding. He felt bad for the rat, but that wasn't quite all. He felt responsible. Something inside him. Some small voice inside him said he should go see, to open that curtain and bear witness to what he forgot. The urge passed though, but he promised himself he'd buy the rat a beer at least once he was upright. Camp rules forbid alcohol, but he'd never been good about following rules. He thanked Dr. Willow and excused himself from the medical tent, a fresh idea hitting him. He didn't owe just the rat a beer.

It was a four hour trip to the nearest town, and it took Nate a bit to find someone willing to give him a ride. He ended up riding with a deer named Cameron. Nate knew him already, as after the wolf and the doctor, he was next in charge. Cameron was a jolly guy, and had his antlers cut down to nubs. To Nate, that made the deer's head look strangely small, but it also seemed to fit. Cameron very much had an alt style that Nate vibed with nicely. Cameron's official title was Personnel director, but he was mostly a jack of all trades, and mediator when it came to social friction. Nate had seen him play therapist more than a few times in the short time he'd been in camp. He seemed like exactly the kind of guy Nate would ask out, if only he wasn't straight. Nate didn't like to make assumptions like that, but Cameron wore so much on his sleeve that it was obvious. Maybe he could talk him into a night at the bar sometime, and they could talk about women. They had that much common ground at least.

Coleville was a small town, but it was the closest island of civilization. It had a bus stop, a few bars, and a few shops on the main strip. There was a diner staff sometimes went to, but it wasn't anything special. The mess cook Sally, a positively tiny squirrel, put out better food on average, but she couldn't offer privacy or different faces. Nate did his shopping and returned to camp at dusk, feeling equally giddy and stupid. The round trip had taken a full eight hours, but it had been worth it. He had two cans of beer smuggled inside his sling to get past bag check, and had lucked out. Now all he had to do was find the dog.

Nate wondered what he would say, or what he should say. "Sorry i strangled you?" , "Sorry i kissed you?" Nothing felt right, but somehow Nate felt it would work. He would know what to say when it came time to say it. Keller seemed pretty chill, and Nate didn't want to leave him with the impression of being just a meathead douche-bag. Nate knew he'd already blown his shot at anything more than friends with Keller, if Keller even swung that way in the first place. With as soft spoken and reserved as the dog was though, Nate wouldn't be surprised if he did. Still, Nate had seen worse pairings get together in his time.

He made his way to the quarters tents for the infiltration team, set apart from the rest of the camp. Each tent had a decent sized "yard" marked out around it, that served to put considerable distance between each housing. It was the closest you could find to privacy here, anyway. Keller's tent was towards the front, and it was there Nate made a b-line for. He hesitated at the door flap, wondering if he should announce himself, and briefly registered a rustling noise inside. He barged through anyway, figuring the gift of booze would smooth over the rough transition. Inside he froze, pinned in place by two sets of eyes. Maxine sat on the bed with her pants off, legs spread wide. Keller was between them, kneeling on the floor, muzzle wet with her business, and hand on his own throbbing business below.

"Oh shit," Nate managed to say after a few glacial seconds.

"Bad time," Keller said, clearly embarrassed, but still possessed of that unnerving cool.

"No, this is perfect," Max said, a snarl spreading across her lips. She rose, and closed the gap to the horse. Keller sat back, his erection wilting unnoticed. Nate managed one step back, but something in the woman's eyes froze him, like cold fire. Max stopped just short of him, and despite her head barely reaching his chest, she seemed to loom over the large horse.

"We had a bad intro, so let me introduce myself," she said, and crossed her arms across her chest. She did not seem to care that she her pussy was hanging out, in fact it seemed to empower her. She leveraged that secondhand embarrassment against the horse, forcing him to give her his full attention. "I'm Max, senior explorer on the crew, and the closest thing we have to a combat expert. This is Keller, the other senior, and he is under my protection. You fuck with him, you fuck with me. You might remember me throwing you out a window before. I was holding back. You might think it was me who saved your ass then, but I just did cleanup. Keller was the one that got you out of the crowd and by the windows, you were just too stupid to realize. Keller bled for you, I won't. I know what happened in the showers, I don't care what your issues are, they're yours to work out. I'm willing to give leniency this time because of the house, but buddy, your numbers were pretty fucking low. If it happens again, the best you can hope to lose is your job."

Nate's breath caught in his throat, refusing to let him speak. He shot a desperate glance towards Keller, looking for something, anything to help. Keller just shrank behind the cat, out of sight.

"Right, yeah," Nate finally managed to say. "I'll... I'll just go then." The cat nodded her approval, and Nate reversed course. He made his retreat just shy of a jog, not wanting to seem scared, but wanting to be gone as fast as he could. He had been stupid, it was obvious now, that Keller was already spoken for. Others might label him a stud, but Nate would never put himself between a couple. Nate realized he had been beyond to stupid to even think about Keller romantically after what he did. It was stunningly obvious in hindsight. Max was harsh to everyone but her pup, Nate realized he should have picked up on that right away. Maybe he was just a meathead. He was glad he had two beers now, he could use both of them.

Nate wandered the camp aimlessly for a few hours, looking for a good spot to drink, but privacy was hard to come by. He supposed he could drink in his own tent, but that felt pathetic. He had always thought beer tasted better under an open sky anyway. As he walked, he felt a renewed sense of awareness about the place, and found himself using his ears far more. The stallion's hearing was one of his strongest senses when he wanted to use it, and he had a startling revelation once he used it. People were fucking all over the camp. Once he'd heard the first stifled gasp and moan, his adrenaline spiked, and his ears tuned in to it. He thought better than to go looking for them, but soon it was all he could hear. The mare's words came back to him, about the house and its corruption, about impulse control. He suddenly felt guilty for bringing booze in, it seemed people were already plenty uninhibited here already. Still, he could drink them both himself, he was only at 3% after all. A beer seemed like the perfect thing to even out his shitty mood.

He kept walking, even as the other staff retired for bed. He felt a bit better, but still couldn't shake the feeling that everyone was getting laid besides him. He didn't exactly feel jealous, in fact he felt like he deserved to feel like shit, for tonight at least. He did feel a bit horny though, it was hard for him to listen to sex without getting at least a little riled himself. As he walked, he began to hear a different kind of voice. He followed it for a bit, unsure where it was, and realized someone was singing. A woman by the sounds of it. Curious, he kept on until the source became clear. It was coming from the medical tent.

Nate tried to place the voice. It wasn't Dr. Willow, but it still sounded familiar. Something else stood out to Nate though, he'd heard the melody before, but not the words. He crept closer, trying to remember the internal layout of the tent, and position the voice inside. He made it all the way around back, mere feet away from the singer when he realized where they were.

"Jason?" Nate asked cautiously.

The singer stopped, and cleared their throat. The voice shifted several octaves down as it answered. "Who is it?" Jason asked nervously.

"Uh, it's Nate."

There was a long pause. "The horse?" Jason asked.

"Yeah man," Nate laughed. "You've got some serious pipes, man, you do drag?"

Jason stammered for a second. "What, why?"

Nate sat down with his back to the tent. "My cousin used to do competitions in college. They did musical numbers all the time set to lip sync, but he decided to learn how to sing like a girl. Took him months, shit was hard."

Jason chuckled. "Yeah I guess... Yeah, I do voice training."

Nate pulled a beer from his sling, figuring here was a good a place as any. "Respect. You ever do shows, or just on your own?" Nate wasn't sure why he was asking these questions, maybe he just wanted to feel close to someone right now. "I was never brave enough to try."

"A little of both," Jason said, his voice relaxing somewhat. "I don't usually have this conversation first when I meet people."

"Me either, but times are weird here. How are you feeling? I heard about an amputation, but no one would say anything."

"I..." Jason hesitated, "Yeah there was. It's.. It's rough, but I'm alive I guess. I'm sure it'll get worse when I'm off this bed, but right now they've got this IV stuff plugged into me keeping it numb. I've been trying not to think about it."

Nate thought to ask what limb, but decided against it. It was too soon. He opened his beer, and changed the subject. "So do you like boys or girls?" He asked, as if it were the weather. He found it often the best way to break the ice.

"Can it be both?"

"Fuck yeah, man. Bi-five!"

Jason laughed, "You too?"

Nate took a long chug, nearly emptying the can in one go. "Next question, top or bottom?"

"Oh wow, you don't hold back," Jason said with a chuckle.

"Hey, I'm just asking, you don't need to answer."

"I guess bottom?"

"You guess?"

"I mean, I've not exactly been lucky in that department."

"Fuck that, own it man. Doesn't matter if people buy, you gotta know what you're offering. Besides, I'm sure there's plenty of guys who would love a small guy like you."

"What about you then?"

"Me? Wanna guess?"

Jason was quiet a moment, thinking. "I mean, I feel bad but..."

"But...?"

"I don't want to say."

"Come on man, I know what you're thinking, I'm a horse, and there's a reason 'hung like' me is a phrase."

"That's why I don't want to say though, it's stereotyping."

"Okay, how bout this then. Do I break it, or happen to match?"

Jason was quiet again for a while. "I... Top?"

"Bingo."

"God, figured you were cocky enough, but didn't want to assume."

"I won't deny it," Nate said, "Wish I wasn't a lot though."

"Big guy has a soft side, eh?"

"Everyone does, I just get myself into trouble without thinking. Pick fights, hurt people," Nate trailed off, and finished his beer. He sighed and opened the second. "I fucked up here already like that."

"Hey," Jason's voice became softer, "I'm sure it wasn't so bad. I remember you coming for me, that counts for something."

Nate sighed. "Yeah, well I don't. Could very easily have been the house playing itself with my impulse control, or whatever they call it. I don't really know if I'm that brave."

"You seem plenty confident to me."

"Confidence ain't the same thing. I don't know if I'd do it again if I had the choice."

"You did though, that counts." Jason seemed to struggle with something, muttering to himself.

"Yeah, they didn't tell you that I assaulted Keller the same night, did they?" Nate felt like shit, even more than before. It hurt to lay it all out like that, but it was true. He took another drink.

"Nate... I think you're brave, I'd be dead without you."

"Or you'd be fine, if we'd listened to Keller at the start."

"No."

"No?"

Jason sighed, exasperated. "I wish I could see your face."

"Dr. Willow's got you locked down for a reason, bud."

"I know I... Right, yeah..." Jason sighed. "God I hate this. I can barely remember your face and I still want to kiss you."

"Woah, hey," Nate's face flushed. "What happened to meek mouse?"

"Shit, sorry. I'm so stupid, I..."

"Hey, no, you're cool. Just surprised is all," Nate said. He tried to picture Jason again, but he'd barely seen him before the mission. He thought he was cute at least from what he remembered. He looked down at his beer, and wondered if it was still a good idea to finish it. "I'm the one who told you to own it, don't back down."

Jason laughed despite himself. "Sorry, I'm not usually this... Noisy? I don't know, my head's fuzzy and the words are just kinda falling out."

"No worries, the whole blood thing, yeah? It'll get better as you heal I think, at least that's what I remember."

"Not for me, I don't think," Jason's voice was strained. "I didn't just lose a lot of blood, I lost a limb, I... I was tiny to begin with, and now there's even less of me."

"Fuck I...," Nate failed to find words.

"Did they do that measure thing for you?"

"Yeah, the blood test?"

"What was your number.

Nate hesitated, but answered. "3%."

"Fuck you're a big boy," Jason sighed, "I'm at... I was at 50% the night of. I've spiked to 65% since the amputation."

Nate was speechless. That was more than the doctor even.

Jason sobbed quietly. "I'm fucking scared. I don't want to run, I want to help, but I don't know if I can stay. I don't know if I'm any use anymore. I have all these feelings, all these urges, and I don't know how much of it is real. They have me cuffed to the bed here, and I'm afraid it's better that way."

Nate rose suddenly, his heart rate picking up. Maybe it was the beer, maybe it was the house, maybe it was just his own nature, but he couldn't sit by while a cute boy cried. He held back though, he didn't want to be responsible for an infection, he didn't want to hurt anyone else being reckless.

"Nate, I barely know you, and right now my body is just screaming at me. It wants to run away, it wants to hold you, to be held by you, to let you do things to it, and I can't' tell what all is me! I just... I'm so confused, and you don't even know me."

"It's okay man, I'm here for you. I'll help you sort it out." Nate wasn't sure what to do, and not being able to see Jason made it all the worse.

"I just..." Jason whimpered, "You don't even know me, no one does, and I'm scared."

Nate knew what he had to do, rules be damned. He dropped his beer, and made for the tent flap.

"Nate?" Jason's voice rose to a panic, "Wait Nate don't! Don't listen to me! I'm sorry, please stop! I can't"

Nate said nothing, he knew better. He'd never been good with words anyway. The inside of the medical tent was dark, except for the light coming through the crack behind the quarantine curtain. Nate made his way to the access flap, and slid the zipper all the way down. A monitor to his left started beeping frantically, but he ignored it. With little ceremony, he stepped inside, and let his eyes adjust to the light.

"I'm sorry," she said, almost crying. A large bandage covered her middle, with a red stain marking where the knife first entered below her right breast. That was what caught his eyes in the end, her breasts. Small, but so was she. Nate blinked, trying to process what he was looking at. He saw her arms then, her left was missing below the elbow, and wrapped tightly with a bandage.

She lay on a cot with a blanket up to her hips. Her remaining hand was cuffed to the bedrail on a long chain. Next to her, strung over the back of a chair, were her clothes from the night they'd entered, one item of which looked to be a large sports bra. Nate knew better though, he recognized a chest binder when he saw one. That only raised the question further. On a table next to her were bottles of medicine, two of which stood out to him. They were prescription bottles from a pharmacy, not the big bottles Dr. Willow used, and had Jason's name on them. Nate stepped closer to read them, and Jason tried to cover her chest. His question was finally answered: Spironolactone, and estradiol.

Jason began crying in earnest.

Nate realized he had to say something, and lurched for the first thing that came to mind. "No it's cool, I'm Bi!" He regretted it immediately.

"I didn't want anyone to know!" she shouted, "This was just supposed to be a job!"

"I'm sorry, I-"

"What the fuck is going on here?" someone else shouted from behind.

Nate whipped around to see Dr. Willow, stepping inside. "Doctor I-"

The Mare bore her teeth at him. "She was in here because she requested it, because she couldn't wear a binder with her wounds."

Nate wanted to shout back, but his impulses were what got him here. "I'm sorry," he said softly, almost choking on the words.

"You knew she was impaired, you knew you weren't allowed in here, what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"I-" Nate paused, seeing she had something in her hand. His heart sank as he realized it was his beer can. He closed his eyes and sighed. There was no way to recover. He looked to the rat again, trying and failing to meet her eyes. "I just wanted to hold her hand," he said. The mare's eye twitched, her hand crushed the beer can, sending suds spraying out the top. Nate knew she didn't believe him, but he hadn't said it for her.

"Get out, we'll talk in the morning."

Nate complied, biting back any more words. He paused once outside, and looked to the stars above. They shone so bright this far from the city, and he understood the privilege he'd just lost. He sighed again, and made his way to his own quarters. He decided he should at least try to get some sleep before the end.

---

"Fucking asshole!" The mare seethed. Her mane was a mess, going in every direction as she ran her hands through it. The wolf looked on, nodding quietly. "His numbers were so low! Is he just that awful?"

"Regardless, he is unfit for further duty." Master Galleus said softly. "Please, sit down, Alice, you're wearing tracks in the floor." The wolf sat comfortable in a recliner, and IV line ran from his arm up to a steadily draining packet of blood. His private tent was set away from the camp, separated by a direct path from the Doctor's own tent. He had the luxury of a plywood floor, but apart from that and some more comfortable furniture, his quarters were like any other. In the corner was his bed, and on the nightstand a small collection of pill bottles. A large pitcher of water also sat on the stand, with an empty glass next to it. He had left a desk chair out for her, next to his own recliner. The doctor sat down, and shed her lab coat for the evening.

"I knew I was right to set that alarm, I knew it."

"It's dealt with, I have a man watching the tent full time now, you can relax."

"You don't get it Shep, she didn't want anyone to know she was trans, she didn't feel safe, and now she's out. She's out to anyone that fuckhead opens his mouth to, and there's not a goddamn thing I can do about it!"

Shep Galleus put his hand over her arm and stroked it gently. "He'll be gone first thing in the morning. I'll even let you drive him out, if you want to keep giving him your mind."

"Fucking right I want to," the mare said, and leaned into the wolf's caress. His hand felt firm against her fur, and persistent. She realized he wanted to give her more than comfort. She smirked and looked down at the ailing wolf. Despite the frailty of his condition, he had a positively regal look about him. He possessed a calm confidence that spoke to a deep security with himself and his abilities. It wasn't a boy's masculinity, and she supposed that was what drew her to him.

The wolf smirked back, and said nothing.

"Sir, you are in the middle of a transfusion, I don't know how much blood you think you have left for an erection."

Shep grinned. "Try me and find out."

Alice moved to call his bluff, and dipped her arm down to his crotch. It only took some light teasing to get a response from his manhood. She rolled her eyes, even as she smiled. That was the one part of him that never acted its age.

"Alright, Mister, now how do you plan to use it with that needle in your arm?"

"Don't suppose you'd pause it for me?"

Alice smirked. "Can't, Doctor's orders."

"Bugger the doctor," the Master sighed.

"I just told you no," The mare said with a chuckle.

"Fair enough, I was more concerned with you anyhow."

The doctor raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

The graying wolf smiled. "You're wound up tight as a spring, dear."

Alice bit her lip. She couldn't deny the claim. It had been a while since their last session, and as used to it as she was, she was still under the Manor's influence. She sighed. "Yeah, I suppose you're right."

The wolf nodded, and gestured for her to pull her chair closer to his. She obliged as he sat the recliner fully upright. He place his hand on her thigh, sending a shiver up her spine. Slowly, he rubbed her led through her pants, dipping closer and closer to her groin with each pass. It was rushed, and his dexterity was hampered, but it was still doing the job for her. She leaned back as her breathing grew deeper. Her chest felt light, and her nipples hardened under her sweater. As if he could read her mind, the master undid her button and unzipped her pants just as she wanted more. Perhaps he could, perhaps he just knew her body that well. It didn't matter though, what mattered were those fingers. The slid into her panties just slow enough to tease without frustrating, and she gasped as they found her clit.

He rubbed her at a methodical pace, varying up his angle and intensity with practiced ease. Alice found herself panting before long, and she fought the urge to buck her hips against his palm. He was less than half her size, but that only excited her more. He knew exactly how to please her, and to have all that man packed in such a small frame seemed against the rules. She was thankful to have him in his life. He slipped two fingers into her honey pot, pulling a gasp from her as he went for the home stretch. She gripped the chair tightly, her large thighs jiggling as they shook. She choked back a moan as she came, and let out a ragged gasp after. It wasn't the best she'd had, but it was plenty good. He was reliable like that.

"More?" Shep asked gently. Alice nodded vigorously, not bothering with words.

The wolf smiled, and set his hand back to work, playing her like a fiddle. She slid her hand into his lap, refusing to let him get away without cumming as well. His cock had shrunk in the gap, but sprang right back to life at her touch. She unzipped his pants and pulled it free. Shep let out a knowing chuckle as she started to roughly pumping his length. Her hand covered over half his length on its own, and his eager precum served to lubricate the process more. Alice wasn't particularly worried about the second part, she knew the Master liked it harder, and squeezed her hand tighter to oblige, pounding her fist against his his knot with each pump. Shep let out a groan despite himself, and she grinned.

"Fair's fair," Alice said with a smirk. Shep redoubled his efforts, wiping the grin from her face, and she stroked him even harder to compensate. It didn't take much longer to reach their peaks. Alice came once more, bucking against Shep's palm, and he came seconds later, filling Alice's hand and ruining his pants. Alice flopped back in her chair and shot the master a side-eyed glance. "Don't tell me you planned that," she said between huffs.

"A gentleman never tells," Master Galleus said, but his smirk after told everything.

Alice rolled her eyes, and basked in the afterglow for a long while. "Thank you," she finally said.

"We're partners," he said simply. Alice scowled. He said that all the time, but she was never fully confident in his meaning. They were partners in the operation, they both had about half the work load. They were sexual partners quite frequently. She had a hard time picturing him as anything more though. It worried her to think that even compromised as much as he was by his Manor, requiring weekly transfusion just to keep his sanity, that he still kept up such emotional walls. He was considerate of her, caring even, but she never quite felt confident about his thoughts or feelings past that. As always, Alice let the thought go. She was a grown woman after all, she knew what she was here for, and she'd gotten it. "I'll take him out tomorrow," she said, changing the subject.

"All I ask is that he isn't found dead in a marsh three weeks from now."

"Oh, don't worry. I want him to hear every word of it."

---

Nate hadn't be surprised at the news. He got in the car, and kept silent through the Doctor's barrage. He deserved that much, there wasn't anything he could say for himself. It was four hours to the Coleville, past that he had to take the bus home. She filled every second of dead air the whole trip. The worst part, was Nate agreed. He had trampled on the girl's privacy, on her safety, and in her most vulnerable moment. He didn't need Dr. Willow to tell him the importance of the closet as a safety tool, he'd spent enough time in a cast to learn its importance first hand. And he'd still crossed the line.

He kept thinking of his words, and how poorly they'd been chosen. "It's okay, I'm Bi." They said so much awful in such a short gasp. First they centered it on him, second it put her solely in the context of fuckability, and worst, it was basically him shouting he was fine with her dick. He hadn't gotten a good look at it, but there was a definite bulge there, enough that he knew she probably thought he'd stared. He didn't know how she felt about it, it was a huge assumption to make, even if it was never an assumption on his part. That didn't matter. Intentions meant fuck all next to execution. He'd said what he'd said, and any reaction she had was justified. It didn't matter if he was a meathead or not, I had played the role and done the same damage as one.

The Doctor seemed to run out of steam as they went. It wasn't that he was ignoring her, it was that he listened the whole time without a word. He liked to think she was reconsidering her opinion of him, but that was wishful thinking. He had to go, even if he could make them understand. He'd hurt people, continued to hurt people. He wasn't suited to the team at all. The best thing for everyone was to cut losses and move on.

"Well, anything to say for yourself?" The doctor asked as they pulled to a stop in the bus station parking lot. To Nate's relief, it seemed like a genuine question, however begrudging it was. Nate really only had one thing on his mind. Not a defense, but a question.

"What is her name, her real one?" Nate asked.

Dr. Willow scowled. "Jason is her legal name, you know that."

Nate shook his head. "That's not what I meant," he said.

Dr. Willow's expression softened. "She prefers Jade," she said.

Nate nodded. It was a good name, not quite a gemstone, but still a precious one forged under great pressure. "Can you tell her, I'm sorry?"

Dr. Willow hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah, I guess," she said. Nate thanked her, and stepped out of the car. He'd wasted enough of everyone's time. He headed for the terminal to catch his bus. He had a hell of a drinking story for his friends back home, something he had scars and a sling to back up, but he wouldn't. It wasn't his story to tell, not with how it ended. It was Jade's, he just hoped she felt comfortable enough to tell it some day, even if it made him look bad.