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BRISTOL POST.

October 4th, 2024

A whistle-blower from the US Ministry of Defence revealed the complete failure of all American nuclear weapons last week. Yesterday at 12:00 PM, Indian and French authorities reported the same. It is becoming apparent that the weaponization of the atom has broken down across the world, and it seems no nation has found out why, or how to fix...

...

...

...

November 26th. 2028

"He gutted her like a fish." The police officer takes a drag from his cigarette. "Intestines spewing out of her like red stuffing. She's dead, lad."

The information barely reaches my brain. I stare down at the plastic table, the yellow lights of the tiny brick room becoming too bright.

The officer smokes his cigarette. "They took your father out to the river last night. He didn't come back, good riddance."

This can't be happening. "That's illegal," I say in a blank voice.

The officer chuckles dryly, tapping his wolven claws along the table. "Not anymore. Haven't heard from parliament in months. We govern ourselves now. What the police chief says, goes." He takes another drag. "He was the one leading the charge."

I only saw his newest girlfriend once. She's dead.

My father is dead.

Good riddance. And not a surprise.

I rub the burn marks on my arm. I haven't been home in two weeks. They're still there.

The police officer sighs. "You're on your own. Foster care system collapsed last December." He gets up from his chair and walks to the door. "Good luck out there, kid. I don't have time to talk more right now. You're sixteen. You'll figure it out." He opens it.

I head towards the door. On my way out, I swat the cigarette out of the officer's paw. I think he understands.

I hate cigarettes.

I exit the old brick halls of the police station out into the street. I take in a breath of the cold air and look down at myself in a rain puddle.

I don't know what I expected. I find the same branching antlers, dirty brown fur, and tired eyes I always have.

This is me, for better or worse.

I sigh and shove my paws into the pockets of my jacket, heading down the road.

The streets twist and turn. I don't walk to my house. Instead, I turn down a narrow street.

The city grows silent as the buildings become more and more decrepit.

I reach my desired street. When I step across the cracked cobblestone, I see something I didn't expect.

Amongst the row houses, on the steps to one of them, a wolf sits. He's about my age, with brushed grey fur and black paws.

Seeing how close he is to my destination, I realize I'm gonna have to talk to him, and talking is not something I want to do right now. Oh well. I can make this quick.

I begrudgingly walk over to the newcomer. "You're not supposed to be here."

The wolf looks up at me with a pair of tired blue eyes that match the color of his sweatshirt, looking me up and down. "Are you?"

The question catches me off guard. A chill breeze blows through the air, matching the overcast sky. I lean against the railing of the cracked brick stairs, two feet away from him. "I don't have many other places to go."

The wolf grins humorlessly. "Me neither." I look down at him. He looks up at me, then at the street. "Do you need something?"

"To be left alone," I say.

"You're the one who walked up to me," he states. "You squat around here?"

"...Yeah," I reluctantly admit.

He nods. "I set up nearby as well."

Great. A neighbor. We're all thieves out here. "Leave my shit alone."

"Mind your business and I'll mind mine," He agrees.

"Good." That's that settled, then.

I shuffle away before the conversation before it can fully develop. I move a door down, open it, and step inside. Faded blue wallpaper lines the walls, a couch and TV facing the door. The floorboards squeak beneath me as I tread over to my corner of the room.

I have a few things set up there. A pile of blankets, water bottles, a couple Styrofoam cups that used to contain soup -- No real commodities, but I survive. And I don't have to go home, not that it matters that much anymore. I sigh, laying down on top of the blankets.

Today was a fucking day. Actually, it was pretty normal, until a police officer found me at the soup kitchen. He brought me into the station to ask some questions and deliver the news. I guess it's pretty easy to find me when my family are the only deer for miles.

I'm not really sure how we got here, to be honest. My parents never told me, and I've never met my grandparents. God knows where they are.

I rub my eyes, staring up at the plaster ceiling above me. A strange thought suddenly worms its way into my head: What am I going to do with my life?

I get by as it is, but I have nothing. I am nothing. And being nothing is easy, don't get me wrong. I like to think of myself as a survivor. Someone who always finds a way to keep going on. But is this really surviving? I live, I breathe, I am, but I spend most days bored and anxious. Lord knows I don't want to intermingle with people nowadays.

Despite the fact that the government has almost entirely crumbled, and the rolling power outages, and the lack of food, and everything else... most people continue on the same. There's just something off about that, you know? Like passengers sleeping on a sinking ship.

Things haven't been the same for me for a long time. And now... today. I scratch my arm. Is it weird that I feel a sense of relief?

Whatever. This is fine. Everything is fine.

...

...

LE MONDE.

October 9th, 2024

The Russian Federation, despite never admitting to the breakdown of their nuclear weapon systems, has claimed to have found a fix to the problem and is "Re-engaging the atomic programme." However, British sources have proven skeptical of this, with Secretary of Defense Ben Wallace being quoted saying: "The shift in the atom [...] will likely take years to solve." In the US...

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November 28th, 2028

The chill fall wind whips through my fur as I make my way down the street. Abandoned cars line the side of the road as I brush past person after person, passing mostly empty shop windows.

Things have been going well. I'm still alive. That's got to account for something, right? I rub my eyes. I haven't done that much today. I tried to read, but the dark atmosphere inside the house makes it pretty hard. No electricity does that to you.

I wonder how different things could have gone. If I was born somewhere else. If the war never started. What would that be like? Would I be happier?

Then, something interrupts my thoughts. The sound of an engine cutting and pummeling the air above me. I look up into the clouded gray sky, and in the distance, see an airplane painted a blank white. Behind it, two more jets follow. It's a foreboding sight, as the three of them come towards the city.

A fourth plane appears, painted differently. It flies by, only for one of the white planes to swing around and fire at it. A missle flies through the air, catches the fourth plane's wing, and sends it spiraling to the ground.

I take a few steps back as the remaining three barrel towards the city. As the sound of the engines comes closer and closer, filling my ears with the ominous sound of machines of war, I turn to run down the brick streets. Suddenly, the sound of crumbling concrete and roof tiles being cracked rings out behind me, soon growing closer, and closer, and closer.

The UK has been at war with the Russian Federation for over a year now, but bombings have only ever been a passing threat. I guess there's just not enough people contesting them nowadays.

I dart off into a side street as an explosion goes off a few metres behind me. I yelp as a stray shard of glass flies through the air and lodges itself in the back of my arm, cutting through the fabric of my clothes. I run faster through the streets, trying to get as far away from the bombs as possible. We didn't get any air raid shelters where I live. The town's not important enough. I'm not sure what agency supplies the food kitchens, but with the government's track record, it's probably not them.

Eventually, I do make it far enough out to escape the explosions, at the grassy edge of town. Soon, the planes disappear over the horizon.

I rub my ringing ears and consider my next options. With the fading adrenaline of the situation, so too comes back the pain of my arm. I grimace, and decide to head home and see if there's anything I can do there. Lord knows I'm not getting into any hospital: All the doctors headed to help in London and other cities awhile ago.

I head back through the the streets and alleyways while clutching my arm, occasionally passing other people clutching ears or shoulders.

Finally, I come to my street. Usually, I'm the only person here, but just like yesterday, there's an intruder. The same wolf sits on the stairs, looking up at the sky with the same weary expression. He rests his paws on his lap, sweatshirt hood pulled over his head as he watches the clouds. I try to turn away before he can notice my presence, but my footsteps alert him.

The wolf turns his attention to me. "It's you."

I stop walking. "Yeah."

I can feel his gaze at the back of my arm as he stands up. "Shit, are you alright?"

I turn to face him. "I'd like to say so."

He comes toward me. "It doesn't look like it."

I can't help but feel agitated, the stinging sharpness of the shard growing more acute. "If you want something, you can be more straightforward."

He holds his paws up defensively. "I just want to help." He points to the glass shard in my arm. "You haven't pulled it out yet. That's a start."

"You want to heal me?"

He nods. "My mother was a nurse. I just want to help, I promise. Even if I don't know you. Do you have one of the government medkits?"

I guess I don't have much of a choice, do I? I hardly know this guy, and I have no idea what he's planning to do, but I guess if he does have his agenda attached to his actions, I have to put up with it. "...My house, the bathroom cabinet." I point towards the house i'm squatting in with my uninjured arm.

He nods. "Be right back." The wolf stalks away.

I sit down on the concrete stairs as a soft rain begins to rain down onto the abandoned residential street. Many people left awhile ago, to volunteer in the army or to other continents. Russia and its allies are a lot stronger than they were in the last war, and it shows as they invade the democracies of Europe. China has been doing the same in Asia.

I try to take my mind off the pain as I look down the street and wait for the wolf to come back. Why is he helping me? I don't know his name. He doesn't know mine. If he wants something, I have no idea what it is.

I'm not good with people. And I don't mean it in the socially awkward way. It's just that there's so many complicated ins and outs, and people lie, and cheat, and will punch you just to get another coin out of your pocket. It's frustrating. They're frustrating.

The black-pawed wolf slinks out of the house with a stereotypically red medkit in his grasp. He rushes towards me, footpaws clattering against the street, light rain sinking into his fur. "Perhaps we should go inside?"

"No," I say.

"Well, alright." He sets the small box of medical supplies beside him. "I'm not really sure what's in here..."

The wolf begins his work. It hurts, certainly, but he gets the shard out, cleans the wound (hopefully with as little leftover glass as possible), and bandages it. His claws trail around the tip of my fur as he does the best he can, having awkwardly pulled my jacket pulled off to reveal the inner workings of the wound (It is significantly difficult to get a shirt over your head with antlers, so I only have my jacket.) I flinch at every touch. I think he notices, because by the end of it, he's not touching me at all.

He finishes wrapping the wound. I put my jacket back on as the rain stops, leaving the street (and my fur) wet.

I stare down at my wounded arm, the bandage covered by my jacket sleeve. So, that's it. The pain remains, though slightly lessened now by the comfort of the bandage.

I look up at the wolf. "Thanks, I guess."

He smiles. "You're welcome."

I rub my arm, grateful for the help, but unsure what's going to happen next. "So?"

"Hm?"

"Do you... need help with something?" I ask.

The wolf takes a second to respond. "What? No, no. I'm fine." He taps his feet against the ground. "I hope I did a good job. It's been awhile since I've done anything medical... I like to use what I know where it counts, though."

I blink. "You're not from around here."

"Why do you think that?"

"You are not asking for anything in return," I answer.

The wolf shrugs. "Well, you're right. Is it really so weird, though, to try to help someone?"

"Weird enough."

"I see." He closes the med kit and sets it aside. "Since you're curious, I lived in Leeds. Wanted to join the army, but... I was too young then. Ended up just wondering liking I do now."

I nod. "How old are you?"

"17. You?" He asks.

"16."

The wolf looks me up and down with those deep blue eyes. "About what I expected. What's your name, lad?"

I watch his gaze. "Indiana."

"Elijah." He holds out his paw. "It seems we're finally acquainted."

I hesitantly reach out and shake it. His grip is warm, soft paw pads pressing against mine. "Yeah."

He smiles. "We don't see many of you deer out here, huh?"

"Guess not."

"Where are you from?" Elijah asks.

"I don't know," I answer.

He nods. "Well, your name implies you're from the US, and they've got ships out here that are taking refugees to America. Supposedly, species native to the continent get first passage. They're in Exmouth."

A tantalizing prospect, but Exmouth is at the bottom of the country: A long ways away. "There are massive crowd brawls form people try to climb over each other to get on."

He shrugs. "Might as well take get there and hope there isn't one. Hell, I'm going, North American or not."

I think about it. I mean, I have nothing here. No real home. What do I have to lose? The coast is very far away, and such a trip would be hard with my extremely limited resources, but I get by. I always have. Perhaps this is a bit of a sudden decision, but... "When is someone supposed to leave to get there?"

"As soon as possible, so tomorrow, I guess. Tough road out there. Or at least, I'm going to go tomorrow."

I remember how I've spent my time over the last few years. Alone. Always alone. What if I'm missing something? Elijah, despite the frightfully little I've talked to him, seems to be a genuine enough person. Or is very clever at hiding a more malevolent side, anyway. Those eyes... bright, but complex. Could I try to go with him? This is a split second decision, made with perhaps a questionably low amount of thought put into it, but one that feels right.

Actually, I'm overthinking this. He probably wants to go alone. Hell, he brought the whole thing up like a conversation topic, not like he was trying to actually get me to go out there. Still, my mind racing, my bandaged wound agitated, the idea is calls to me. "Take me with you."

"What?"

"Take me with you. Please." I rub my arm. "I'm tired of only hearing my own voice."

The wolf looks at me curiously, as if thinking about something. Then, a smile forms on his muzzle. "Okay. If you trust me, I wouldn't mind the company."

For once, I smile back. "Good to hear."

...

...

CHICAGO TRIBUNE.

February 23rd, 2025

Shots were exchanged today at the Russo-Polish border. After the establishment of the Demilitarized Zone in the Donbas War, things have been mostly quiet along the front. However, today at 6:00 PM, Polish guards engaged in a short skirmish against the Russian Armed Forces. Poland has issued a statement saying...

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November 29th, 2028

Following my spur-of-the-moment decision to go on a massive, important trip with a stranger, we agreed to meet again tomorrow morning and prepare for the road.

This morning, I woke up, drank some water, smoothed down my fur, then ditched my pile of blankets and most of my other items. I headed out to our meeting spot on the street.

He seemed a little surprised when I showed up. We'd talked for awhile before parting last night, and I guess my caution around the whole impromptu idea must've shown.

Either way, we brief conversation, made sure we were both sure we wanted to do this, then headed for the trip of a lifetime.

Luckily for me, Elijah had money. A surprisingly good amount of it, too, which he explained he had taken from home and dragged around for the last year, almost getting mugged multiple times but always worming his way out. A very conservative amount of spending later, here we are.

He grabbed his backpack, and we headed out onto the road.

The nervous streets of the town had garnered even more anxiety after the bombings, people moving faster than before. We pass multiple pummeled streets, rubble more common than roofs. We eventually pass them and find ourselves at the town's last grocery store, and we concoct a plan. Elijah buys water and oatmeal. He keeps the watchful eye of the shop owner on him while I slither through the poorly refrigerated isles, deftly grabbing useful items off the shelves and slipping them into my pockets. I subtly slip out the door before the shop owner can get to me. Afterwards, on the uneasy street, Elijah high-fives me for the teamwork.

We leave town soon after that. The streets fade into the distance as I bid home goodbye, walking on little-used roads next to a teenager I knew little about. But as we walked further, tree line growing thicker, I felt a strange sense of relief. Over the last two days, the death of my father had hung over me. A looming spectre, haunting my mind, always there. I'm glad I didn't like him. I don't want to think about it more than that.

All of the memories of the bad things in my father's house fade away with the town. Overall, it was good to be out on the road, mostly unaffected by Russian bombings.

The road goes on. Eventually, however, the evening sets in, and me and Elijah make our first stop at the town of Brinford. We squat in yet another abandoned house.

Elijah sits down on an armchair in the creaky, dark room, only lit by our flashlights. He breathes a sigh of relief.

I throw myself on the dusty couch across from him. "How many days till we get there, you reckon?"

"Not sure," he says, "A few."

"Aye, could be better, could be worse."

Elijah worms off his backpack and sets in on the wooden flooring beside him. "We'll survive." He turns his attention back to me. "Right, I'm sure they've got some beds upstairs, if you just want to get right to sleep. It's getting pretty dark, and we already ate earlier."

I could use some rest. "Sounds good to me."

There are, in fact, beds upstairs, and we end up sleeping in separate rooms.

As I lay there, comforter pulled over me in the dark room, my thoughts keep circling back back to Elijah. Gray fur, black paws, deep blue eyes... there was something alluring about that, even if my experience with him is limited. I've never really talked much with, well... anyone. I don't like people. I know that. I get along smoothly with Elijah, but I'm still uneasy. He could be hiding something from me. This could just be some massive ploy and I've falling right into his trap, and he's going to lead me into some ambush, and I'm going to be killed for my kidneys or something. I don't know.

I guess I've learned a lot about him. He has siblings, but no idea where they are. His parents were scooped up and taken away by the police, and he's never seen them since. Apparently they had Russian connections. I don't know more about that, though, for reasons you can probably guess.

Whatever. He'll only be around for a few days. We just got to get through this, the two of us.

You know, what will we even do if we get to the other side of the ocean? Will we part ways? I imagine we'll part ways. What then? Where will we land? The Garden of Eden? Compared to getting bombed earlier, it might just feel like that. I rub my wounded arm.

I have all of tomorrow to think about this. I should get some sleep.

...

...

GAZETA WYBORCZA.

April 15th, 2026

At 9:23 AM today, Russian President Sergei Shoigu administered a declaration of war against the State of Poland. In response, Article 5 of NATO has been triggered and the remaining members...

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...

November 30th, 2028

We got up, ate a medicore breakfest of oatmeal and water, then headed out to the still-overcast road, rubbing the sleep out of our eyes and stretching our tired legs. Growing more comfortable with talking, I jokingly grumble about 'why didn't we just take a cab.' In response, Elijah asks when the last time I saw a car was. I don't respond.

But, a few minutes later, something most inexplicable happens. As if some heavenly spirit was listening to us, a faint, rumbling sound begins to eminate from the distance. Soon enough, it grows louder, and the unmistakable shape of a car appears around the curve of the road.

Confused and a little curious, I dart off to the grass beside the road. Elijah soon follows. The soggy overgrown grass presses against our shoes as we watch the vehicle come down the road.

It's military truck. Wolven British soldiers are sitting side by side in the open-topped back, wearing camo uniforms and full combat gear, brandishing rifles.

When they reach us, Elijah waves his gray-furred arms in the air, hood pulled off his head, and flags them down. "Hey! Hey!"

After a few moments, the vehicle slows to a halt. The deep camo-green infantry truck has had its tarp pulled off, revealing the tired eyes and muzzles of dozen or so wolves. The soldiers mutter amongst themselves in a hushd tone. After a moment, a black wolf, looking to be in his 20s and wearing a blue scarf, turns to greet us. He slings his rifle over the back of his shoulder. "Well?"

Elijah speaks. "I must say, sir, that in all my days, I have never seen a group of soldiers such as yours travel through a place like this one. What are you? A patrol, in this part of the isles?" I wonder how brazenly confident he must be to talk to a group of armed men like that. "Last I checked, there weren't Russians anywhere but the mainland, sir."

A handful of dry laughs spread around the wolf soldiers. The scarf-wearing wolf speaks. "There are, actually, just not on this side of the country. The Russians landed in Aberdeen last week. Crossed the North Sea from Norway. Welcome to life."

Shock ripples through me. Russians in Scotland? It can't be. How could the Russian navy, which has only been around in any meaningful capacity for a few years, beat us? And what happens now?

The soldier sighs. "The BAF is the government now. Wallace made sure of that. Now he's General of the whole goddamn country. Today, our captain gave us a list, saying it was from high command itself, and... we're not really sure what we're supposed to be doing. It's just a list of addresses. A whole bunch of them. Apparently, when we reach them, we're supposed to call headquarters, and then I don't know." He shakes his head. "So there's your answer. I don't know."

The conversation doesn't continue long after that. When asked why the wolves hadn't just been sent Aberdeen, the soldier just shrugs.

With not much else to say, the soldiers drive off, leaving me and Elijah alone.

We return to walking along the road, fall leaves falling loftily down to the ground around us. I shove my paws into my packets. ."So," I say awkwardly.

"So?" Elijah parrots.

"We need to move faster. Once the word gets out about Aberdeen, there's going to be more people like us."

Elijah puts his paws on his hips. "The Russians are in our goddamn country, and that's your concern?"

"I'm just trying to cope with this. You know, if the Americans are here, why isn't Russia doing something about it?"

The wolf kicks a leaf. "The US fleet is preoccupied in the pacific, I think. I guess the Russians want to keep it that way."

I look up at the sky, watching the rough, scrambled light gray clouds. "I feel like... there's a whole web of things happening out there, yet struck in a balanced intricacy. And right in the middle of the interconnected spider's web of things out there, and then there's just... you and me, you know? Normal people. Why is it so hard to wiggle away?"

Elijah stuffs his paws in his sweatshirt pocket. "I don't know, lad. I don't know. It's hard to. I just want to go somewhere better. Somewhere nicer. Once everything is settled, I want to have a garden. Do you like to garden, Indiana?"

"I'd like to try," I say hopefully.

He smiles. "That's good. There's an inifinite amount of things in this world. We're not very big. But it's the little things that count the most, no?"

"It takes a lot of bricks to build a house," I agree.

"Exactly." He says. "You know, maybe we could garden together sometime."

"Yeah," I say. "Yeah. We should." What do I trust this guy? I have no reason to. He could just be trying to use me for some form of help.

Somehow, I feel like he isn't. He's inviting me to garden with him. Stay- stay with him, in a round-about way of asking. Just as friend, no doubt, but- Would a liar go this far? How much would they care? I don't know. It's hard to know. Maybe all my doubt is irrational because I asked him, not the other way around, but it persists nonetheless.

Elijah studies my face, and I realize my inner worries must be more visible than I thought. "What's wrong?"

The wind lashes against my fur. "Have you lied to me in any of our conversations, Elijah?"

Elijah looks concerned, t he early fall trees backdropping the handsome markings of his wolven face. "No? Do you think I'm lying to you, or are you just worried?"

I look away. "Just worried."

He pats my back. It's a comforting feeling. "I'm not out to get you, alright? I have my trust in you, now please let me get yours."

I wouldn't trust myself. But I guess I haven't tried anything. "Okay. I will. I- I will."

We continue the long walk. It's arduous, but we ultimately keep making progress, and that keeps drawing me onward.

We eventually make it to a new town with a day's less food and water, and look for a house to squat in. It's more difficult, however, as we walk by rows of decimated streets, brown and cracked to pieces by bombings. The occasional stray wolf walks along the broken roads in the early evening sun, some of them picking through the rubbage. We eventually find one, however, and after making sure no one was inside, we went in and set down our bags.

The most exciting event, by far, was the miraculous discovery of running water in the house. Why water was still being run here is unclear, but my best guess is someone left very recently. Probably to Exmouth.

One shower later, I step out into the living room. Unfortunately, I have no spare clothes, so my old clothes are going to have to do.

Elijah, who has already taken a shower, waves at me as I approach. "Took you way less time than me."

I shrug. "It's a lot easier to dry my fur."

I sit down as we talk, the evening ebbing into a state of darkness. He's a charming fellow; with a dreamy yet logical canter to his voice. There was something about him that called to me. I had never thought much about my sexuality either way, but after crushing on someone like Elijah (whom I've only really known for two days) it's clear I'm not exactly the straightest guy on the scale. I wonder what my family would've thought of that. Certainly nothing good.

It hurts a little, quite frankly. I have no idea about what Elijah is thinking. The wolf has been pretty open about his sexuality, and from what I understand, he's bisexual, but that doesn't really mean anything. I've attached to him so quickly, but I haven't been so friendly in any of our conversations, and I fear that the wall I like to keep around myself has backfired.

For the fact I'm so certain I have something for him, there are a lot of complications.

Maybe I'm overthinking this. Maybe I only feel so connected to the guy because I've spent so much time alone, and to really talk to someone again is sending my brain haywire. Maybe so. Maybe not. 'Maybe' a lot of things, but-

"Indiana?" Elijah says.

I blink. "Sorry, I was lost in thought."

"Do you hear that?" The wolf signals me to be quiet. "Listen."

The air, for a moment, is quiet. However, soon enough, outside the stillness of the house, I hear a plane flying through the air. Usually, that wouldn't be concerning, but dread forms in the pit of my stomach when I recognize it for the unmistakable drone of what I heard two days prior: The same engine noise the bomber had made. "Shit," I say. "Fuck..."

"C'mon, we got to get to cover. Anything."

With the lack of safe spaces in the room, we end up bolting out of our cushy armchairs and throwing ourselves against the wall of the room. I crouch next to Elijah, heart pounding as the sound gets closer. Shortly after, it's followed by the sound of explosion after explosion. Whatever the Russian's plan is isn't clean, with such small and rapid bombings. But it is terrifying.

I take deep breaths, trying to stay calm. It'll be fine. It'll be fine, surely. Elijah, despite everything, manages to smile at me.

The house begins to shake as the rows of explosions decimate the streets outside. The once-peaceful night turns to images of my history flashing before my eyes, from the day I was born to the day things changed. I remember the first and last day I smoked when I was 13, and how my father jabbed that cigarette into my arm and told me to never do it again. He started smoking two years later.

The windows shake. Trying to look for something comforting, anything, I look at my one companion. In a fluid swipe, I reach down and grab his paw. I hold it in mine, intertwining my fingers with his as the warmth of our fur spreads between us.

He squeezes my paw as the sound becomes deafening. The whole house shakes so terribly I fear it will shatter and we'll be trapped under splinters and wood.

But it passes. It passes and we're fine, sitting here, the rolling explosions moving away, leaving us alive and intact, despite everything. They didn't bomb this part of the city.

I can still hear. Despite the ringing in my ears, I can still hear. It must've been a few streets away, then. Perhaps my worry was for naught.

I breathe a massive sigh of relief and slump against the wall. Unexpectedly, Elijah drapes an arm over my shoulders. I don't know why. He breathes heavily, calming himself down as much as I.

The light weight of his arm is comforting as I do my best to relax. If that had been a few streets this way, and the Russians had decided to bomb this part of the city, we'd be dead most certainly. But we're alive.

Elijah lifts his arm. The electric hint goes away. "Sorry."

"You're fine," I say.

The wolf looks out the window to the night sky. The sounds of the bombers finally disappear, leaving only the stillness of the house.

I rub my eyes. "Well then."

Elijah stands up. "Be it divine will or dumb luck, we're here."

"Dumb luck." I say. I get up after him. Out the same window, the light of flashlights can be seen. "Unless they come back."

"They won't. This probably won't be their only stop tonight, if they're only sending a few."

"I hope so," I answer.

The wolf pats my back. "I just want to go to bed now."

"Agreed."

We do go to bed, with me sleeping downstairs and Elijah upstairs.

I think about him. I think about the dreadful fear in that moment the bombers were passing, and the sheer indomitability of his smile. I think about the brief moments of warmth we shared.

I didn't think much of people before now. Really. I can't say I've had a good experience with them. But Elijah, despite the context of our companionship, is shaking that up.

In a dark and rainy place, a light shines brighter than anywhere else.

My fuzzy thoughts buzz around my head as I fall asleep.

...

...

EVENING STANDARD.

December 6th, 2025

With the lack of military cohesion in Norway, Russian forces were able to batter their way into Oslo this week. As a former NATO member, the Norwegian army...

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November 31st, 2028

I wake up at some point in the late morning, stretching and yawning as I push the blanket off myself. I doze for a couple of minutes before I stand up and rub my eyes. Shortly after I grab my jacket, slipping it on over my slimly framed body as the light bathes my brown fur. I zip it up and head out to the bathroom.

When I get out, I find Elijah already in the living room eating a breakfast of old oatmeal. I join him, and after a short conversation, he checks and rebandages my wound. It's been giving me trouble over the last few days, but in the end, I was lucky to come out with something superficial. Could have gotten infected, though, if not for Elijah.

We don't discuss the bombings from last night. We simply focus on the subject at hand. We should reach Exmouth, and by proxy, the US refugee ships, by midday tomorrow. If we move briskly, anyway.

Upon that realization, we soon set out on the road. It's a bit surreal to see the outside world so differently now. Streets that we could clearly see were intact and active yesterday are gray and dusty under the still-cloudy sky, filled with rubble. We pass by groups of people as they stand or sit amongst the ruins.

I wonder how things could have gone differently. If NATO hadn't collapsed, or if the Russians never became as militarist as they are today, or if people could still point nuclear bombs at each other. But that's not how things went.

We travel on tired legs out of the city and into the broken roads of the countryside. While passing through a hamlet, a rush of military trucks and other vehicles pass through a crossroads before us. The desaturated camo green tide veers down the road, soldiers armed with rifles and uniforms rushing across the country. Probably to Aberdeen.

Elijah doesn't flag anyone down this time, and they pay us no mind as they pass.

Time passes. Conversations start and die out. By the time we reach our final stop, the last of the sun disappearing into the sky line, we've fell into a polite silence. Tired and looking for sleep, we try to find a house to squat in. Instead, we find them all destroyed, lived in, or occupied by other squatters. By the time the moon is visible above the city's buildings, we decide to just stay at a hotel. Unluckily for us, the only available rooms have significantly jacked up prices. However, after a conversation with a rather tired receptionist, we convince her to let us pay normal price. We get a two-bed room, Elijah pays in cash, and we head off to enjoy the commodity of owning something for once.

We make our way through the dim carpeted halls to the place we paid for. After fumbling with the keycard for a moment, we let ourselves inside and close the door behind us.

I set down my book bag and flop down on one of the beds, kicking off my shoes. I place my paws behind my head. "One day, huh?"

The wolf sits down on the opposite bed. "I sure hope so. I guess we just have to both be one of those to make it in."

I stare up at the ceiling. "How likely do you think that is?"

"No idea."

No idea. What if only one of us make it on? Me? Him? It's unlikely we'd ever see each other again, then. What do I do then? Nothing. I do nothing.

We talk more, like we always do. We talk about what we want when we get out of the country. He wants to write. I want to play music. He wants a garden. I want to go back to school.

We talk, and I listen to that alluring aspect to his voice and admire the lapis color of his eyes. I smile at his sarcasm and thank him for his commitment to talking to me even when I gave the most curt of responses.

After a little while, I realize I have to tell him.

What if he doesn't make it on the ship? And I sail away without him? Vice versa? I like the guy, and if that happens, my feeling on him will never be resolved. I'll sit here wondering. Was I just a friend to him, or did he actually have feelings for me?

I look at him. He looks at me.

It'd be best to just get this out there. If he says I'm not that person to him, so what? We have one day left, and then I probably never see him again. If he reciprocates? If it all goes wrong tomorrow, at least I have this one thing. Besides, that's is all assuming I really do like him.

Elijah tilts his head curiously as I stand up. "You need something?" He says.

I walk across the tan carpet of the room, the light from the bedside lamp washing the walls in a yellow light. I sit down next to the wolf. "So."

"What is it?" He asks.

I take a deep breath. "Well."

He puts his paw on my shoulder. "Say what you need to."

I curl and uncurl my fingers, heart pounding. This is it. "I have feelings for you. I just need help figuring them out."

He processes the words. He looks into my eyes. I look into his. He smiles. "Indiana..." Warmly, Elijah slides his arm over my shoulders.

I put my paw onto his lap. "If you don't-"

He reaches down and squeezes my paw, intertwining his fingers with mine. "Indiana." He reaches up with his other paw and rubs his thumb up and down one of my antlers. "I've met a lot of people in my life. Some good. Some bad. I've met people who started with a lot. I've met a lot who didn't. I saw you probably started the latter when I first met you, but I didn't know what to expect. You rarely talked that first day. But when you did open your mouth, I felt like you always managed to say more than just idle words. That's what first drawed me to you. And I soon started to notice you seem to have an insight I don't see in a most people. It all formed in my head from there." He squeezes my paw. "Yes, I like you."

I feel a sense of relief and lean into him. He pulls me closer. Thank god. I relish the tenderness of the moment, that warm arm wrapped around me, my paw in his. I don't think I've done this before. At least, not in this capacity. It's cathartic. It lasts a minute or so, my head resting on his shoulder, his arms around mine. I think I almost fully realize my emotions toward him. Almost.

I feel him shift. Hot breath hits the brown fur of my neck. "So, you need help figuring everything out." He plants a soft kiss on my neck, muzzle pressing into my fur. "Do you want to go, y'know, far, in order to assist in that?"

My ears go red. "I..."

He rubs my back patiently. "Well? No pressure, but if you think the way I think..."

Is he implying what I think he's implying? I've never gone that far before. I've always felt too disconnected for that. But I mean... It's him. And it's been so long since I've been able to relieve myself of such carnal desires. I want to. "...Yeah."

The wolf shifts a few inches away. "You do?" He trails a paw up my side. "I think we're on the same page here." He rests his paw on the fur of my cheek.

My ears burn. I look into his eyes. He looks into mine. I don't turn away.

In a slow, calculated move, Elijah closes the gap between us and presses his warm muzzle against mine.

Electrified by the feeling of the action, I press into to the kiss. It's long, and proceeded by another, then another.

He breaks the kiss for a moment to throw off his sweatshirt. Quickly, he leans back in and returns that muzzle to mine, and I melt into it. The wolf slips his paw under my jacket, fingers sifting through the bare fur underneath, and I can't help but make a soft noise of pleasure at the plethora of new feelings.

Elijah pulls away again and grins. "Biggest compliment you could ever give me."

"You do this often?" I ask sheepishly.

"A few times. I was curious." He deftly unzips my jacket, pulling off of me and revealing my slim chest and arms. "Also, you're cute."

I scowl, but he only kisses me again. I watch as he pulls off his jeans, dropping them onto the floor and revealing his black boxers, which hold the curve of a rather noticeable bulge. I find myself staring at it.

He pushes my chin up so that I look him in the eye. "Alright. Let's see... lay back for just a moment." I oblige, relaxing against the bed. He reaches over and grabs my pants, pulling them off my body. They drop onto the floor next to his. He looks up and down my frame, grinning. He takes off his t-shirt, throwing it to the side and revealing the muscles and gray fur of his chest. "Well then." He runs a paw up my inner thigh. "What do we have here?" He places his paw on my underwear, feeling up the bulge underneath. His fingers curl around the sack of my balls, thumb pressed against the hardness of my shaft.

"Hm, I think I like that..." He rubs it a little bit more.

"Shut up," I mutter.

He ruffles the fur on my chest, grinning. "Okay." He hooks a finger over the edge of my underwear. "Still optimistic?"

When I nod, he pulls them down, revealing the hard pink cock underneath. A rush of air flows against it. "That's what I was looking for." He runs a finger across it, little sensations following.

Elijah pulls his hand away and puts it on his own underwear. He drags them off and flings them away. His sizable, appealing cock revels in the freedom. "Have you done this before, Indiana?" He asks. I shake my head. He nods. "Something you want to try?"

"I just want to be here."

"Right, then. I can make decisions." He stands up, walking over to stand across from me. He scratches his chin, evidently thinking. "Could you sit up?" I do. He continues. "Okay." He points to his cock, which is right in the center of my line-of-sight. He then points at me. "Just a suggestion, love."

I look at it, admiring the thing more than I anticipated. I lean in a little.

He runs his fingers along one of my antlers. "Your choice, of course."

Allured, I don't take much time to contemplate. I slide my muzzle over his shaft, engulfing it in my mouth. The strange new feeling shocks my body, the hot, long thing so unfamiliar yet so welcome. I like it, and waste no time as I start to move up and down the tasteful cock, sucking him off.

His paw freezes on my antlers in surprise. "Oooh..."

I roll my tongue along his shaft, tasting the supple skin.

He strokes my head. "This is great, love."

I continue, engulfed in the sense of the action. Elijah strokes my head again. "If you go on for too long, I'll end off early."

Heeding the pseudo-warning, I soon pull off of his cock and lick my lips. "Damn." I stare up at his naked body.

"Welcome to this side of the world, lad." He gently pushes me back down onto the bed, my legs dangling over the side. "Anyway," he leans in. Elijah whispers: "There's that unexplored ass I heard about."

My ears go red again and he leans over and places his fingers on my cock, kissing it before letting it go. "If you're ready, of course."

Am I? Yes, yes I am.

I nod.

"Alright then, lad." Elijah says. "We're agreed." With no further warning, he grabs my legs and pushes me a little back further onto the bed. After making sure I'm settled, he lifts them up and spreads them apart. My ass lays open before him. "And I get first claim, huh?"

I think he's reveling in my virginity. I blush. "Shut up."

"I tease, I tease." He drops one of my legs, holding me up at an angle. "Anyway, hang on a second."

I hear him spit. For a few moments, I'm confused, then I feel a finger pause against the rim of my asshole. He spreads the saliva around the outside and outmost area before pressing in a little deeper. His finger pushes inside me, sliding into the space. "How's it feel?" He pulls out.

"I'm good..."

"Just making sure." He moves back in again with two fingers, then three. He wiggles them around a little.

I feel compelled to ignore his teasing, but my pleasured sough I make after he pulls them out again says it all. He does it a few times. "I think that's a good sign." He pulls his fingers away.

Elijah picks my other leg back up again, setting me out before him. "This should be that, but better."

He makes sure I'm well spread apart before stepping forward, the tip of his saliva-lubricated cock hovering just outside my asshole. "I think you'll like this." At that, he moves in just a little closer, dick pursing at my ass. Finally, he slowly pushes into me, his hot shaft pressing against the walls of my asshole. It gradually slides inside, stretching and filling the space.

"All good?" I nod again.

He pushes it the rest of the way in. "Okay, here we go." He cautiously moves in and out of me, maintaining a slow pace. I close my eyes. It's painful, at first, but as he begins pushing in and out, the pain subtly begins to mix with pleasure. Then. the pain fades away entirely, and is engulfed by incredible sensations. He moves faster, stimulating my asshole for the first time. He continues to speed up, pleasuring me in ways far more sensational than I anticipated. I can't help but moan. He grins once more and moves a little faster.

We continue like this for some time. His hot cock presses in and out of me. It sends shockwaves through my body, like little fireworks. The hot shaft moves in and out, in and out, and I love it.

Lost in the bliss, it's a welcome surprise when I soon feel something hot and sticky shoot out inside me, Elijah pulling me against him and moving his cock in deeper than before. He lets out his own moan of pleasure. The ear candy filling my hearing, and the feeling inside of me reaching a sudden crescendo, I soon climax and find myself spurting whiteness all over the fur of my chest. "God..."

I hear the wolf pant, still inside me. He breaths a satisfied breath and pulls out, setting my legs down again against the bed. We both enjoy the last of the moment's heat. "I've done that before, but... I think I like you the best," He says.

I sprawl out against the bed, reality fading back to me. "Thanks..." That was... wow. I never really knew what side of the bed I'd end up on, but I like the one I found. I can't help but hope this will be a common occurrence. Would Elijah agree with that? Will we get that chance?

Elijah swings my legs over onto the bed and lays down next to me, laying his head against the pillow. "I think I found a good way to relieve stress."

"What works, works, I guess." I push myself up to lay next to him. "We do have a shower here, right?"

He turns onto his side. "Yeah, but we can shower tomorrow. I have a better, more innocent way of stress relief than what we just did."

"Yeah?" I yawn.

I feel Elijah pull the blanket over our nude bodies. Then, an arm finds its way over my chest, paw resting and sinking itself in my fur. A second arm worms under my shoulders. "Yeah."

I breathe a content sigh. "I see." I collapse a paw over his. "I think I like this idea better than showering,"

He presses his body against mine, giving my neck a tender lick. "Exactly. We can clean up tomorrow, we just have to be quick." He squeezes me. "For now, let's just sleep."

The warmth of his body presses against mine, those arms giving me a sense of protection that's hard to come by. "Agreed."

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USA TODAY.

April 16th, 2026

Chinese forces have refused the Japanese ultimatum to stop their assault on Taiwanese Republic. As a result, Japan has declared war on the People's Republic of China. It is believed that the President is also...

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December 1st, 2028

We cuddle the whole night through, and I dream dreams of Elijah and his gentle touch. I feel blessed when I wake up to it.

I yawn, stretching in his arms, and find out he's already awake. We enjoy that closeness a little longer before getting up and taking our showers, cleaning the hotel room up from last night's incident.

I'm a little sore from last night. Elijah is apologetic, but I let him know it's alright.

We finish eating breakfast, turn our keycard in, and head out onto the streets. At first, We get a few humorous looks from stray onlookers who put my walk and the wolf next to me together. However, I grow accustomed to the feeling and am able to walk normally again.

The streets here are more hopeful than they were in other places, despite the increased levels of destruction. Perhaps a little more empty, too. I guess everyone has already left, one way or another.

The cloudy sky, for once, clears up a little. Bits and bobs of the blue sky shine down on us, rays of sunlight streaking onto the city. We kick up brick dust as we make our way through the streets, a few military trucks and tanks passing us by. They're British.

Once we're outside on the road again, the stress of the situation sets in on me. The wolf grabs my paw and squeezes it. I smile and don't let go.

We make our way through the country, our goal growing ever closer. Judgement day is coming, I guess. It took me a while to realize just how slim the chances of us getting on are, and we aren't even entirely sure what's on the other side. We just know it's North America.

As we get closer to Exmouth, we start coming across other groups of travelers. They're nice enough, but a few stares degrades my confidence enough I drop Elijah's paw. He gives me an understanding, though disappointed, look.

As we get closer, the roads start to degrade. We continue on, joining a rather large group of (give or take) 150 people as we all converge on our way to Exmouth, distant birds chirping from treetops and filling the hopeful air.

After a few hours of travel, we reach it. The houses and businesses of Exmouth appear before us, and we hurry inside. Residents watch from windows and a few even join us as we make our way to the coast.

When we get close, steps leading down to the channel, it's impossible not to see the ship. Past the stalks of thousands of people is a massive, gray, intimidating aircraft carrier. Instead if planes, it carries rows of dark green military tents, forming a miniature town. (Plus whatever is underneath) Flying above it all, on a pole, an American flag can faintly be seen.

Elijah pats my back as we step down and into the horde of people, staring at the ship. The noise, long replaced by voices, is loud and deafening, and the scent of so many bodies almost makes me gag. Nevertheless, we attempt to make our way through, dodging families and old men carrying bottles of alcohol. I try not to succumb to sensory overload.

Abruptly, no more than 10 minutes after we arrive, the sound of a ringing bell is played off of speakers, followed by a voice telling everyone to quiet down. Miraculously, everyone obliges. I whisper to Elijah about how we're finally here, and he whispers something encouraging back. People brush past us as we stand in the thick crowd, and we try our best to hold our ground.

A few minutes and subsequent sentences later, the actual message is played. It's a dragging speech about British and American ties, and how they want to help the Brits, but want to help Americans first.

That leads into an important announcement.

Over the speakers, they ask for any family originally from the United States to step forward, directing everyone to the metal platforms leading omto the ship. (Said platforms being guarded by stags in military uniform, naval officers standing by.)

I grab Elijah's arm and rush forward. Many other people do the same, and are forced into orderly lines along the dock's platforms. Most are turned away, unable to provide evidence. I do not know how to prove myself, especially something I'm not 100% sure of, but I keep going forward. I make sure Elijah stays behind me.

A few people try to cut in front of us, but Elijah forces them back. We wait for half an hour, the terribly loud noise and terribly pungent smell of the crowd still permeating, until we finally reach the cold metal walkway and guardrails of the deployed platforms.

A burly stag, rifle in hand, stands in front of us. A female bobcat with a thick notepad stands next to him. "What's your name?" She asks loudly, glancing up at me.

"Indiana Landon," I answer.

"How old are you?" She returns. "Where were your parents born?"

"16. I'm not sure, they never told me."

The bobcat sighs. "We need proper-"

The stag interrupts. "Let him in." He says. "Look at him."

She hesitates for a few moments, glancing back up at me, then flips back through the last pages of her notepad. She looks at me again, mulling it over, then shrugs. "Is there anyone you want to take with you?"

I immediately spin around and point at Elijah. "Him. Elijah Fosterman."

She writes writes something down in her notebook. (Presumably, our names.) The bobcat nods "Accepted," she says.

The stag steps aside, and we ascend towards the ship. A few people shout behind us, but we ignore them.

The metal clangs beneath my feet, and I feel ecstatic. I guess I'm also pretty conflicted about being allowed on board based on species, but it wasn't my call to make, and white-tailed deer are only found in North America.

We reach the top of the ramp platform, and a kit fox in naval uniform waves and lets us onboard. We step on board the hard ground, other passangers meandering about, with a few workers watching us smile as the walk onto the middle of the ship.

It's there, among the sparse group of people (much contrasted to the hell below), that I realize we've truly made it. Suddenly, Elijah drags me into a tunt. He pulls his arms and me and into a hug. I hug him back, grinning brightly, engulfed in the moment.

The wolf whispers into my ear: "Can I kiss you?"_ _I brazenly agree.

Elijah interlocks his muzzle with mine, and I feel utterly happy.