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Chapter 14: Dinner Date

"Well done, group ten," Dr. Serrano intoned warmly. He turned his head toward the wider

room. "Thank you all for your hard work, class. Monday, we'll have lecture again as usual. I

hope you've all enjoyed presenting and learning about different medications. Enjoy your

weekend."

Flora and the rest of her presenting group made their ways back to their seats to hastily

pack up their things. Flora was relieved the presentation was over. The presentation itself hadn't

been that bad; it had been over in a flash. However, the same couldn't be said for the long class

period of waiting whilst every other group presented before them. Flora wished she could have

been in group two or even group one to limit the anxiety of waiting. At least it's over now.

Flora hurried Cynthia to her physics class and raced back to the biology building, sitting

beside Moxie just as the analogue clock above the blackboard at the front of the room ticked to

ten o'clock. Moxie offered her a friendly smile. The swift fox still wasn't allowed to talk to her, but

as far as Flora could tell, she was doing alright. Flora hoped Isabelle's punishment would be

over at the end of the week.

After biology class, Flora, Cynthia, and Pete met Rosemary and Amber in the cafeteria.

"Any plans for this afternoon?" Rosemary inquired. "Amber and I were going to meet

Alex in a bit and head to the park."

"That sounds fun," Flora replied. "We don't have any plans ourselves."

"Erm, Flora?" Pete murmured bashfully. "I, um, I wanted to ask you something, actually."

Flora turned to the rabbit on her left curiously, "What, Pete?"

"Would, um, you go on a date with me t-tomorrow afternoon?"

Flora grinned excitedly, "Of course! What did you have in mind?"

"I, um, I thought we could take the bus to the art museum and get dinner afterward.

There's an Indian restaurant not far from the museum that I thought looked good."

"That sounds perfect. I can't wait!" Flora chirped enthusiastically.

Pete's ears pinkened, and he smiled shyly, "I'm glad you think so."

"Are you still going to be able to join us if you're going to be busy tomorrow afternoon?"

Rosemary asked.

"For a while at least," Flora answered. "We probably won't have much free time on

Sunday though."

"I'll see if Chester can take me tomorrow afternoon," Cynthia squeaked. "If not, I'll be

okay in our room."

"Y-you could come with us," Pete offered awkwardly.

Cynthia shook her head decisively, "It's your and Flora's time together. I wouldn't be a

very good friend if I got in the way."

"I can help you if you'd prefer," Rosemary offered.

"Thanks," Cynthia squeaked genially. "Chester will be upset if I don't ask him first, but if

he's going to be busy, then I'd appreciate it."

"Why would he be upset?" Amber asked dubiously.

Cynthia let out an embarrassed little laugh, "Heheh, we, um, play a sort of game when

it's his turn to have me. He'd be disappointed if I didn't offer."

Amber scrunched up her nose and cocked a rusty-colored ear in bemusement, "A

game? What kind of game?"

Flora, Pete, and Rosemary were also eyeing the mouse with expressions ranging from

concern to confusion.

"Well, we're a cat and a mouse," Cynthia offered bashfully. "We pretend, you know, that

he caught me, and he teases me about what he's going to do. It's kind of exciting."

"You enjoy that?" Amber pressed disconcertedly.

"I-it's fun, and, um, I know it's Chester. He's very gentle," Cynthia explained

embarrassedly.

"It's a common enough thing to like," Rosemary commented nonchalantly. "And

reasonably safe as long as you don't take it too far. I've considered it, but you need someone

you really trust." She glanced at Flora, "I assume it's not something you're into."

"I-it's not," Flora answered embarrassedly. She was a little disturbed by the idea. She

hadn't suspected it was something Chester or Cynthia would be into.

"It might be fun if you tried it," Cynthia remarked. "I bet you'd be a very demure predator,

at least at first. That could be a fun dynamic."

"What does he do?" Amber probed.

"That's a little more personal than I want to get into," Cynthia replied.

"You can offer yourself as his next prey and find out, Amber," Rosemary teased.

"No way!" Amber yelped. "E-even if I were into that, I wouldn't want Chester as my

predator! He's a doofus."

"I'd have a little trouble taking him seriously too," Rosemary agreed.

"Chester knows how to be scary when he wants to be!" Cynthia defended the cat

irritatedly.

"It's probably easy when he's a hundred times your size," Amber remarked dryly. She

eyed Pete skeptically, "What do you think about all of this ridiculousness? You're dating a

predator."

"I-I don't know," Pete stammered embarrassedly. "I'd trust Flora, n-no matter what."

"We'll stick to things we actually like," Flora responded evenly. "Even if predator-prey

roleplay is safe, I'm sure tickling is much safer."

Rosemary grinned, displaying her large incisors, "Probably. Does that mean you both

like tickle torture? That's fun!"

"It was!" Flora agreed enthusiastically. "Pete's feet were awfully ticklish. I'm hoping he

has other ticklish spots too!"

Rosemary wriggled in their seat, "Now, I'm jealous! I tried to get Alex to tickle me, but it

didn't work with xir hooves."

"I'll tickle you if that's what you want, you weirdo," Amber declared amusedly.

"Will you?!" Rosemary gasped.

The fox squirrel nodded, "As long as I don't have to let you get me back."

"Agreed," Rosemary chirped without hesitation. She grinned, flicking her tail excitedly,

and let out a little squeal, "Eee! I seriously can't wait!"

"We can tell," Amber chaffed.

"W-what if we push the trip to the park by an hour?" Rosemary suggested eagerly. "We

could run to my room right now!"

"I kind of want to make you wait," Amber teased. "I didn't know you could get aroused

like this. Aren't you ace?"

"It's totally different!" Rosemary rejoined.

"If Flora wants to help, we could tickle you at the park," Amber proposed slyly. "She can

hold you, and I'll tickle."

Rosemary flicked her bushy black tail as she eyed Flora sidelong with an embarrassed

expression, "If she wants to."

Flora's ears felt hot with embarrassment. Was she comfortable engaging in this kink with

Rosemary and Amber? There was nothing inherently sexual about tickling, but a kink was a

kink. "I-I don't know," she murmured.

"If you're not comfortable, we'll find another way," Rosemary returned, a bit relieved,

Flora thought.

"Is Chester coming?" Amber asked. "I bet he'd hold you. He already does weird stuff with

Cynthia."

"I haven't talked to him," Rosemary answered. "You can just tie me up. I have handcuffs

in my room. That way, people won't get concerned about what we're doing. It would suck if

someone interrupted."

Amber smirked, "Alright, but you'd better tell Alex to wait. If there's no one to stop us,

who knows how long I'll tickle you?"

Rosemary leapt up from their seat, piled up their and Amber's plates, glasses, and

utensils, and scurried across the room to deposit them on the conveyor. The black squirrel

bounced back across the room with their customary yellow tartan skirt dancing around their

knees and came to a halt with their hands on the back of their chair. "Well?!"

Grinning, Amber stood, "I'm ready."

With that, Rosemary dashed for the exit with a squawk, and the fox squirrel raced after

her.

Flora stared at the doors where the squirrels had disappeared for a few seconds then

turned back to Pete and Cynthia. She glanced down at the mouse, "Do you like being tickled,

Cynthia?" she inquired curiously.

"N-not really," Cynthia squeaked shyly.

"It looks like we have some time to work on homework before we go," Flora remarked

evenly. "Are you both done?"

Pete and Cynthia nodded. Flora collected their dishes, and they returned to their rooms.

The three of them met Rosemary, Amber, Alex, and Becca at the park an hour and a

half later. Flora and Cynthia ascended a sycamore with Rosemary and Amber and sat together

on one of the smooth, white branches. Once Rosemary had allowed Flora to retrieve Cynthia

from her backpack, the black squirrel leaned her head against Amber's shoulder. The larger

squirrel took Rosemary's nearer hand and held it on Rosemary's thigh. Rosemary rubbed their

cheek under the short, loose sleeve of Amber's pastel pink, scoop-neck blouse.

"I guess your tickle session went well, huh?" Cynthia squeaked cheekily from between

Rosemary and Flora.

Amber smiled down at the mouse softly, "It was fun, but it wasn't until the end that I

realized how intimate what we were doing really was. I was sitting on top of her, watching her

catch her breath, and it struck me that, as silly as it was, we'd just done something really

personal and intimate. So I asked if I could kiss her."

"I could hardly say no when she still had to undo the handcuffs," Rosemary joked.

"Besides, after all of that exhilaration, I kind of wanted to cuddle, and a kiss felt like a good

transition into that."

"I'm glad I got us on the topic," Cynthia declared cheekily.

"Flora was the one who brought up tickling," Amber returned.

"But we never would have been discussing kink if I hadn't mentioned what I do with

Chester," Cynthia countered.

"I still don't know what exactly that is," Amber replied. "But I guess I understand better

why you enjoy it. I still think it's a bit odd since Chester is gay."

"Neither of us are attracted to the other in that way," Cynthia explained. "But we're

friends, and what we do is exciting and fun. Flora and I are intimate too even though we're also

not sexually or romantically attracted to each other."

"I'm happy to have a friend as close as you, Cynthia," Flora stated warmly.

"Let's climb down," Rosemary decided. "I want to sit with our other friends too."

They climbed back down with Flora descending tail-first before the more skilled squirrels.

Alex, Pete, and Becca were seated under the shade of the tree, and when Flora sprang off of

the trunk to avoid the last few feet of climbing, Pete leapt up and bounded over to her. Flora

wrapped the rabbit in a warm hug then led him back over beside the mountain goat. Alex was

wearing xir charcoal gray duster and reclining back on xir hooved hands whilst Becca was

curled in xir lap. Flora sat, flopped back onto the grass, and then rolled onto her belly,

unconcerned about whether the claw-torn Willowdale Pirates t-shirt that she'd changed into

would get any grass stains. Pete delicately sat on her left side by her waist, as always wearing

one of his dressy vests, this one a fetching coral pink. He placed a hand on her back, below the

bottom of her t-shirt and just above the base of her tail and ran his slender fingers through her

fur. Rosemary and Amber had sat side-by-side a short distance from both Alex and Flora such

that the three groups formed a lopsided triangle. Amber helped Cynthia out of Rosemary's

backpack then held the mouse on her lap. They chatted aimlessly or relaxed in comfortable

silence until it was time for Flora, Cynthia, and Pete to return to their rooms to get a little more

homework done before dinner.

At dinner, they found Lance, Chester, Becca, Amber, and Rosemary at a six-seat table

on the prey side of the cafeteria. It was unusual for all of them to meet for a meal, and Flora

approached the one empty seat between Amber and Lance a bit awkwardly, unsure where she

and Pete would sit.

"Hi everybody," Flora chirped. "Do you think we can pull up another chair?"

"Hi Flora," Chester meowed cheerfully. "I'm sure we can make room somehow."

"Becca can sit with me," Rosemary suggested. "We're both small."

"Alright," Becca agreed. She stood on her chair to push her tray over then hopped

across the gap to Rosemary's seat on her left.

"Thank you, Becca," Flora chirped genially. "We'll be back in a minute."

Rosemary followed them to help get Cynthia's food, and they proceeded to the

vegetable station, which was having spinach lasagna and eggplant parmesan. The various

cheeses of the dishes were, of course, cultured from oat milk. While some mammals did sell

their excess milk, it and all derivative products were very expensive. Some of the wealthy red

foxes at RCV had probably tasted these delicacies, but even the cheese at the meat station was

made from plants. Flora and Cynthia each got eggplant parmesan, and Cynthia got the spinach

lasagna whilst Flora decided to have the meat lasagna from the adjacent station. Pete made

himself a hearty salad.

Returning to the table, Flora sat between Lance and Amber with Cynthia on the table in

front of her as usual, and Pete sat across from her in the seat Becca had vacated. Flora glanced

at the rabbit to make sure he was okay between Chester and Becca, but he seemed to be at

ease. Flora glanced back at her plate and smiled softly to herself: he'd made so much progress

in just two weeks. Her heart throbbed with love for her brave, sweet bun, and she also felt a

sense of pride that she'd helped make his transformation possible. It's his accomplishment, but

he had me to encourage him. Flora thought it was alright to take a small amount of self-

satisfaction from the role she'd played.

"Chester, I needed to ask you, can you take me tomorrow afternoon?" Cynthia piped.

Chester grinned cheerfully, "Sure I can, mousie. What's the occasion?"

"Pete's taking me on a date to the art museum and dinner!" Flora chirped happily.

"Nice! You should tell us how it was when you get back. Hopefully, it isn't all just

paintings of red foxes!" Chester meowed lightheartedly.

"I'm sure it will be fun," Flora replied sunnily.

"I guess that means you and Cynthia will be doing you-know-what," Amber intoned

coyly.

Chester glanced at the fox squirrel in confusion, "Doing what now?"

"I, erm, told them about our game," Cynthia squeaked shyly.

"Oh, that," Chester responded nonchalantly. "Amber made it sound like something

scandalous."

"I think it is a bit," Amber rejoined teasingly. "Pretending she's your prey? She wouldn't

tell us what it is you actually do."

"It's just a bit of fun," Chester meowed placidly. "If Cynthia will let me borrow her, I can

give you a demonstration." He offered the mouse a winning smile, "It will only take a minute."

"O-okay," Cynthia squeaked bashfully.

Chester leaned across the table and scooped Cynthia up in one pink-padded, beige

paw. He deposited her in front of his tray then pushed her over and rolled her onto her belly.

Keeping this hand on top of her, he laid his other hand over the first perpendicularly.

"Now that I have her caught, I extend my claws and slowly curl them in," he narrated as

he curled the fingers of his upper hand under the lower, his needle-tipped claws scraping across

the laminate. "The slower I go, the more time she has to imagine how it would be if they really

pierced her. There's a lot more to it, but I think you get the idea."

He removed his hands, and Cynthia sat up and straightened her whiskers flusteredly.

Chester scooped her up and returned her to her place in front of Flora's tray.

"I don't know if I'm more or less confused," Amber remarked. "But I suppose if you both

enjoy it, then who am I to judge?"

"It can get pretty tense when we get into the roles," Chester returned cheerfully. "That's

most of the fun."

"Do you get involved at all, Lance?" Amber asked curiously.

The wolverine shook his head slowly, "It's not my thing." He smirked at Chester

teasingly, "Besides, Chester might have some trouble pretending to be so diabolical if he had

me staring at him."

"What can I say? When I see this big furball I go all soft inside," Chester quipped.

"Chester could pretend to be your prey," Amber suggested.

Lance grinned at the tabby deviously, "Now that's an idea!"

"You think I'd be afraid of a big goofy furball?" Chester sallied.

Lance bared his enormous fangs with mock ferocity, "I think we both know the answer to

that, little kitty," he growled.

Chester gave Amber a baleful look, "If I end up devoured, it's your fault," he stated,

deadpan.

Flora glanced at Pete to make sure he was still doing alright with all of this talk of

pretending to be someone's prey: he looked a bit worried but less so than Amber.

"I-I only made a suggestion!" Amber chattered anxiously. "Don't do it if it's not safe!"

Lance smiled amusedly, "Don't worry; Chester probably won't end up as wolverine

chow."

"You'd be heartbroken if I did!" Chester chaffed.

"A broken heart but a full stomach," Lance retorted jovially.

"I think Flora was right that it's better to stick to tickling," Amber muttered worriedly.

Flora had to agree with her earlier sentiment. The mere idea of pretending she was

going to eat someone made her uncomfortable, and while she had a good handle on her

instincts, she was skeptical that pushing the boundaries of that control was really safe. A single

bite from her dangerous jaws could maim or even kill poor Pete; it wasn't a risk she was willing

to take. Chester and Cynthia might enjoy it, but she hoped they would be careful.

When they were finished, they said goodnight to Rosemary, Amber, and Becca--

Chester and Lance having already left--and returned to their dorm. They briefly stopped outside

of the girls' door, where Flora and Pete exchanged nose-lick kisses.

"Are you going to call your mom this evening?" Flora asked him.

Pete nodded. "I hope she's gotten over the sh-shock of what I told her last week," he

replied anxiously.

"I'm sure she has," Flora returned warmly. "It might take her a while to fully accept that

we're together, but eventually she'll see how happy you are."

Pete proceeded down the hall, and Flora took Cynthia into their room. Cynthia listened

to music while she flipped through her phone, and Flora finished her calculus problems before

grabbing her book. However, they were interrupted from their recreation by an urgent knock on

the door. Flora leapt out of bed and yanked it open, and Pete shot in, catching her in a tight hug.

Flora hugged him back; she could tell the rabbit was upset.

"Is something wrong, Pete?" she asked concernedly.

His face buried in Flora's chest fur, Pete choked out a sob. "Th-they want to t-take me

away from you, Flora," he moaned despondently. "They s-said they'd take me out of school."

"Your parents did?"

Pete nodded, rubbing his damp nose through her fur.

Flora stroked his long, velvety ears, which were pinned to the back of his head. "We

won't let them do that, Pete," she soothed. "You should decide who you love and where you go

to school. My mom's a lawyer. We'll figure this out."

"W-what can we do?" Pete whined.

"We're nearly adults," Flora tried to reassure him as well as herself. "You can get

'emancipated' from them if you have to. I think that's what it's called. My mom would know."

"Will you talk to her?"

"I will. I'll ask her what you can do and what steps you need to take. We won't let them

take you away."

"They pay my room and board. I don't know if I can afford to stay if they don't," he

murmured worriedly.

"We'll figure that out too," Flora returned firmly.

Pete looked up from her fluffy white chest fur, "Thank you, Flora. I wish they could see

how kind you are."

"I wish they could too. Or at least that predators aren't the monsters they think we are."

"Would, uh, you be willing to talk to them?" Pete asked hesitantly.

"I'm not sure that will help, but I can try," Flora agreed.

Pete turned his head toward the door, "I think they'll pick up if I call back. I hung up on

them before," he murmured embarrassedly.

"Let's try," Flora encouraged warmly. "I can handle it if they say mean things to me

because we both know how wrong they are. Let's go."

Pete led her to his room, where his closed laptop was still plugged in on his desk and his

chair pushed out askew. Flora could imagine him slamming the laptop down on the call before

racing out of the room, and she stepped close behind him and pulled him to her chest, holding

him gently.

"Are you sure you want to do this now?" she asked softly.

"Yes," Pete replied with determination.

Flora let him go, and he approached the desk and opened his laptop. The screen blinked

on, and Pete entered his password.

He turned to her shyly, "Um, do you want to sit?"

Flora regarded Pete's forest green-cushioned chair skeptically. She could probably

squeeze into it, but she might have trouble getting her bushy tail through the back. "I'll sit on the

bed," she decided. She stepped over to Pete's bed and plopped down behind the desk.

Pete took the desk chair and adjusted the angle of the laptop screen so that the camera

wouldn't cut off Flora's head. Then he started the call. After a few seconds, two rabbits

appeared on the screen, sharing one camera that was fortunately turned horizontally. One of

the rabbits had a completely black-furred face and blue-gray eyes, and the other was mostly

black with a white spot covering their muzzle and tapering up their nose to a line that split their

forehead. The second rabbit had brown eyes.

"Pete, we know th-" the first rabbit began but then froze, staring out of the screen in

abject horror. "P-Pete, who is that behind you?" they croaked.

The second rabbit also looked highly disturbed but remained silent.

"That's Flora," Pete stated determinedly. "I wanted you to meet her, so you can see

she's not dangerous."

Flora waved at the camera awkwardly, "Hello."

"What's she doing in your room?!" the first rabbit hissed under her breath, as if Flora

couldn't hear perfectly well.

"I said I wanted you to meet her, Mom," Pete repeated. "So you'll see that I don't need to

leave RCV."

"Are you alone with this fox?" the second rabbit asked sharply.

"Y-yes, Dad," Pete answered more nervously. "She's safe like I told you."

"What did we teach you?!" Pete's father snapped. "Did we waste our time?! We didn't

spend eighteen years raising you to be a predator's meat!"

"I-I know that," Pete whined. "But, but Flora's-"

"A fox!" his father cut him off.

Pete winced, sinking in his seat, "She, she's-"

Flora had heard enough! She sprang up from the bed and bounded the short distance to

Pete's chair. Leaning over the back of the chair with her head next to his, she took his right

hand in hers and gave it a comforting squeeze and his cheek a nuzzle before glaring at the

rabbits on the screen, who, if possible, looked even more shocked and horrified than when

they'd first spotted her, veritably apoplectic.

"I knew you were bigots but not that you were this cruel!" Flora rebuked angrily. "Pete's

trying to explain that what you believe is wrong, but even if you think he's in danger, that doesn't

excuse treating him like this!"

"Don't think we'll fall for your lies!" Pete's mother squeaked furiously. "We won't let you

have our son!"

"If you were right and I wanted to eat him, I could have already done it. I could hang up

this call and eat him right now!" Flora argued.

Pete's parents' expressions shifted from fury to dread. "W-what do you want?" Pete's

mother whispered fearfully. "Money? We'll get you whatever you ask for."

"I want you to accept that Pete and I are in love!" Flora chirped passionately. "If you'd

take a moment to see, you'd know that Pete is happy now! He doesn't live in fear like before!"

The rabbits' expressions shifted once again, still nervous but now baffled and

disconcerted. "What do you mean you're 'in love'?" Pete's mother asked hesitantly.

"I, um, I hadn't told them that yet, Flora," Pete whispered awkwardly.

Flora blushed embarrassedly.

"You think you're in love with this predator, Pete?" his father reprimanded harshly. "Are

you an idiot?! You're nothing but meat to her!"

"I know I love her, and I know she loves me!" Pete rejoined anxiously. "I meant to tell

you, but I knew you'd be shocked just that I have predator friends."

"Predators don't have prey friends, and they certainly don't love them," his father

returned stridently.

"You're wrong! Predators aren't like you taught me! Some of them are mean, but lots of

them are nice. And Flora's the nicest person I've ever met!"

"We're not so different from you," Flora put in diplomatically.

"You eat our flesh!" Pete's father snapped.

"We used to, but you know it's not like that anymore," Flora admonished. "I promise I'm

not going to hurt Pete. We really are in love."

"Is it true, Pete?" his mother asked weakly. "You really love this vixen?"

"I do," Pete replied firmly.

Pete's mother shook her head sadly, "I'm sorry, Pete. This is why we have to take you

out of school. I believe you're sincere, but you're very confused." She glared through the screen

at Flora, "It's her fault!"

"We won't let you take Pete out of school," Flora returned defiantly. "My mom is a

lawyer, and we'll find a way so that Pete doesn't have to listen to you anymore."

Pete's father glared through the screen obstinately, but his mother looked worried,

"Would you really do that, Pete? Would you abandon us for this fox?"

"I will if I have to," Pete returned anxiously. "I love you, Mom, but I love Flora too. I'd still

be your son, but I should be able to make my own decisions."

"We're not going to pay for you to get eaten. Cut us out, and you're on your own," Pete's

father responded darkly.

"I'll help Pete afford school!" Flora rejoined. "If we both have to work over the summer,

we will, and I know my parents will let him live with us. If you don't want him, he'll still have a

family."

Pete rubbed his cheek against her muzzle, "I know I will, Flora."

"We can't push him into their claws, Nick," Pete's mother squeaked frantically. "Maybe

this isn't the best course. If we try to take him out and he goes through with what they said, then

we've lost him for good!"

Pete's father looked at her dourly, "If he wants to throw his life away-"

"I won't give him up for dead, Nick! As long as I have breath, I have to try!" Pete's mother

cut him off. She looked back into the camera, "We'll talk about this more, Honey. I know you

think you're right, and I just hope we can reach you before it's too late. Keep going to class but

try to think about what we taught you. Something about this must seem wrong if you just think."

"Y-you're not going to take me out of school o-or disown me?" Pete asked nervously.

His mother shook her head. "We won't push you to do anything drastic." Her eyes

narrowed hatefully as she glared at Flora, "Don't think that you've won, vixen. You're more

devious than I expected, but you're nothing but a bloodthirsty beast! I won't let you have my

son!"

Relieved that the crisis of Pete's parents trying to remove him from school was, for the

moment, averted, Flora blinked placidly in response to the flaccid insult. "I sincerely hope you

both see the light. Pete and I won't let you tear us apart, but I hope one day you won't hate me."

"Words can't hide what you are!" Pete's mother rebuked. "When you open your mouth,

we can see your fangs!"

"Pete thinks they're pretty," Flora returned smugly. "Don't you, Pete?"

Pete glanced at her and smiled shyly, "I do."

Flora was pleased to see that this admission thoroughly disturbed his parents. Spiteful

as it was, it was hard to feel guilty upsetting people who hated her so vehemently.

"I, uh, guess we should go," Pete commented awkwardly. "I'll talk to you next week."

"Can she leave the room before you hang up?" his mother requested anxiously.

Pete frowned, "No, Mom."

Pete's mother stared at them anxiously for a few seconds. "Please be careful, Pete. You

know we love you and just want to see you safe."

"I know, Mom, and I am safe. With Flora." He hung up the call then glanced at Flora

worriedly, "I'm sorry, Flora. They were horrible to you."

"It's alright. I'm just glad they decided you could stay at school. I'll still talk to my mom

though, in case they change their minds," Flora reassured him. She hesitated a second before

asking her next question. "That was stressful for both of us, and I think I'd feel better if I curled

up with my brave, sweet bun. What do you think? After you're done in the shower, you could

come to our room. Cynthia said it's okay if we only sleep."

"Y-you want me to?" Pete murmured shyly.

"Only if it's what you want. If you're not comfortable, I'll see you in the morning."

"I-I am! I want to!" Pete returned hastily.

Flora nuzzled his cheek then stood, "Great! I have to take a shower too, but if I'm not

back, Cynthia will let you in. See you soon, Pete!"

She bounded to the door and skipped down the hall, joy making her feel light and giddy.

Cynthia didn't even have the chance to ask about the call before Flora was out the door of their

room again, heading for the shower and then her sweet bun tucked close to her all night!

When Flora returned from her shower, she found Pete standing awkwardly in her room.

She smiled at him before hanging up her towel and replacing her toiletries basket. As she

turned back toward him, she noticed he had his head turned but was staring at her furtively with

one sideways-facing eye. Flora suddenly realized they'd never met like this, just out of the

shower and fully unclothed. Of course, the little clothing they often wore left nothing to the

imagination, but their fur was usually neatly brushed whereas, after using the blow dryer, Flora's

fur stuck up in all directions. Pete's fur was shorter but nevertheless messy from his own drying.

While objectively a minor difference, their unkemptness combined with the lingering aromas of

their conditioners, honeysuckle and thyme, so much stronger than by morning, felt intimate.

"Pete said he was spending the night, but he wouldn't tell me if that meant you need

privacy," Cynthia's squeak disrupted the tension.

"You're fine," Flora replied. "We're only going to sleep."

"Mind if I join you?" Cynthia returned cheekily.

Pete shifted embarrassedly, and Flora blushed. "You'd be crushed by one of us for

sure," Flora replied embarrassedly.

"I'm sure I could find a safe spot," Cynthia jested. "But it's alright. I get you to myself

most nights."

Flora looked back to Pete, who was still eyeing her shyly. She stepped across the room

to the rabbit and reached her right arm around him to stroke his back, "We don't have to go to

sleep yet," she crooned. "Why don't we sit together?" She hopped onto her bed, sat against her

reading pillow, and patted her thigh, "Come on."

Pete scrambled onto the bed and climbed into her lap. Flora wrapped her arms around

him and pulled him close against her, his fuzzy scut tickling her belly. She rubbed the side of her

muzzle against Pete's cheek and ran her fingers through his soft chest fur. Then she flipped her

tail around her left hip and across Pete's lap. He lifted the bushy appendage to his chest, where

he stroked it lovingly. As Flora breathed his sweet herbal scent, felt his soft fur under her fingers

and his warm body pressed against hers, she was utterly content. Her entire being pulsed with

tender love for her sweet bun. Neither of them spoke; they didn't need to, their caresses

conveying feelings words could but deficiently express.

* * *

Flora's eyes cracked open, catching the streams of daylight trickling through the window.

She shut them again and breathed contentedly, her nose filled with the sweet thymy scent of the

rabbit nestled close to her chest. Pete's head was tucked under her jaw, and his legs were

drawn in by her belly with his long feet extending between her thighs. Flora slid her lower arm

out from under her pillow and ran her fingers through Pete's kit-soft chest fur. As she traced her

hand lower, over his warm belly, Pete uncurled his legs, stretching them toward the end of the

bed. Flora scooted her lower half a little closer.

"Flora?" Pete murmured sleepily.

"I'm sorry. Did I wake you?" Flora whispered.

Pete nuzzled her neck and sighed contentedly.

"I guess you were comfortable enough," Flora teased softly.

"Mmhm."

"We don't need to get up yet," she breathed.

Pushing her lower arm back under her pillow, she reached her upper arm over his

slender hip and pulled him closer. Pete pressed himself against her, his hips flush with her mid

abdomen. Flora wondered how it would feel if she rolled on top of him, squashed him tight

against her belly, but it would have been hard to go back to sleep after such a rambunctious act.

Not wishing to end their first night together just yet, she soon drifted back to sleep.

Flora was awoken an indeterminate amount of time later by the whine of the automatic

door. She lifted her head to look toward the entrance.

"Sorry," Cynthia squeaked. "I couldn't wait any longer. I have to pee."

Flora yawned. "What time is it?"

"A quarter after nine."

"We'd better get up too," Flora murmured sleepily.

Cynthia hurried off down the hall on her crutches, and Flora laid her head back down.

She scooted backward and toward the foot of the bed so that she could press her long snout to

the base of one of Pete's long ears, which were relaxed against his head. She nuzzled his ear

then licked it until he stirred, lifting and turning his ears out alertly though not opening his eyes.

His nose twitched, and he pushed his head forward to nuzzle back it into Flora's neck fur.

"Rise and shine, Sleepyhead," Flora murmured tenderly. "Cynthia said it's after nine."

Pete scooted closer to her.

"The fox you're sleeping with is getting hungry," Flora teased.

Pete's visible eye popped open.

Flora pushed herself up on her left arm and smiled down at him warmly, "More

importantly, I have to pee, so you might as well get up unless you want to lie here by yourself."

Pete rolled over onto his back and stared up at her shyly, "W-were you comfortable?"

"Comfortable enough, but I think you took up more than your share."

"Sorry."

"It's okay. You didn't have any nightmares about being caught by ravenous vixens, did

you?"

"N-no."

"That's good." She pushed herself up, climbed over Pete, and dropped onto the carpet.

She stepped to the door but turned her head back to smile at Pete again before she exited.

Flora trotted down the hall to the restroom where she relieved her bladder. While she

was washing her hands, Pete entered the room and glanced at her shyly before entering one of

the stalls. Flora blow dried her hands and returned to her room. Pete soon returned, followed a

minute or so later by Cynthia.

"You need to go to your room to get dressed, Pete," Flora pointed out amusedly.

"R-right," Pete muttered awkwardly.

"But since you're here again, let me brush your fur." Flora retrieved her bristly brush from

her closet and sat on the bed, patting the space to her right.

Pete leapt up beside her, and Flora ran the brush over his head. However, Pete ducked

away quickly when it touched him.

"Did I hurt you?" Flora asked worriedly.

"I-it's a little scratchy," Pete stated.

"Why don't you brush me? Then you can get your brush, and I'll do you."

"Okay."

Flora handed Pete the brush. He scrambled into a standing position and stepped behind

her. Gently, he ran the brush through her fur.

"My fur's coarser than yours. Don't worry about hurting me, or you'll never get the knots

out. I'll let you know if you're too rough," she instructed.

Pete increased the vigor of his brushing. He did her head, back, and tail, and then Flora

lay down so that he could bush her belly and arms. Finally, she sat up and stood on the floor.

Pete hopped off the bed and crouched in front of her to brush from her hips downward. Flora

smiled amusedly when she noticed the insides of his ears had turned bright red. He brushed her

legs and the underside of her tail then stood and handed her back the brush.

"Thank you, Pete. Now run and get your brush, so I can do you."

Pete hurried out of the room, and Flora replaced the brush.

Cynthia let out a romantic sigh. "You two are so adorable," she squeaked dreamily. "I

hope you have fun on your date."

"I'm sure we will," Flora returned warmly. "You have fun with Chester. I'll try not to worry

that he's accidentally impaled you."

Cynthia laughed embarrassedly, "Eheheh, you don't need to worry. Chester's very

gentle. It's more about getting into the roles than being in actual danger."

"I don't think I could even pretend," Flora admitted.

"That's okay. I like our relationship just the way it is. I feel perfectly secure with you,

Flora. I feel safe with Chester, but I wouldn't want him to have me all the time."

There was a knock at the door, and Flora opened it to let Pete in. He stepped into the

room then offered her his brush. Flora took it and ran her thumb over the bristles.

"Those are soft," she remarked. "How do you want to do this?"

Pete stood straight and held the pose stiffly, "I'm ready."

"This is supposed to be relaxing, Pete," Flora chided. She gently ran the brush between

his ears. "Is that okay?"

Pete nodded perfunctorily, still tense. Flora sighed resignedly and began to brush his

head. She brushed from his forehead back and then brushed his big bunny cheeks. She worked

down his neck, back, and chest, slowly crouching lower as she did. She brushed the black top

and fuzzy white underside of his scut then carefully brushed around certain anatomy as she

brushed his rear. Pete shifted from foot to foot nervously. Finally, Flora crouched down onto her

haunches to brush his legs.

"Do you brush the bottom of your feet?" Flora inquired.

"N-not usually."

Flora stood and gave Pete back his brush. "That wasn't too much of an ordeal, was it?"

"N-no."

"You seemed tense," Flora remarked.

"I-I was trying not t-to let you tickle me," Pete replied strainedly.

"Oh? Are you really that ticklish?" Flora asked deviously. "Well, I'm sure it's safe to relax

now." She grabbed him and pinned him to her with her right arm across his chest. With her free

hand, she raced her wriggling fingers across his belly and up his ribs.

"Eek! N-no! Neeheeheeheeheehee! Eeheeheeheehee!" Pete squealed.

He squirmed, trying to escape, but Flora held him tightly, not relenting with her tickling.

"Tickle, tickle, tickle!" she teased excitedly. "I've got you, Pete, and you won't get away!"

Pete shrieked with helpless laughter as Flora's fingers assaulted his sensitive ribs and

belly with irresistibly elating wriggles. At last, Flora let her fingers slow. She smoothed his

mussed belly fur with her palm but still held him securely.

"Better?" Flora queried as Pete's breathing gradually returned to normal.

"Mmhm," he gasped.

"There's nothing to stop me from starting again," Flora whispered devilishly.

Pete tensed in her arms. Flora grinned amusedly and let him go. Pete took a step away

but then around and hugged her tight. He nuzzled her chest affectionately.

"I love you, Flora," he murmured into her fur.

"Even after I was tormenting you?" Flora teased.

Pete nodded, "Especially after that because I know that I'm yours."

"How about when I'm still tickling you?"

"Then the most of all."

Flora petted his head, "I love you too, Pete, most of all when you're in my arms, whether

I'm tickling you or not."

Cynthia let out a long romantic sigh, and Flora turned her head to see the mouse lying

on her bed with her jaw resting atop her raised palms, gazing up at them with a dreamy

expression.

"Do you want to go to breakfast?" Flora asked her embarrassedly.

"Only if you're done being sweet and adorable," Cynthia answered contentedly.

"Go get dressed, and we'll meet you in the hall," Flora instructed Pete.

Pete left, and Flora grabbed her lacy white midi skirt from her closet. Cynthia was

already wearing a pleated pink skirt of her own.

"It's touching how much you adore each other," Cynthia sighed. "You know he worships

you, don't you, Flora?"

"We adore each other like you said," Flora replied lightly.

"You do, but it's not quite the same. You're used to rabbits; to you, he's familiar even if

your feelings for him aren't. For him, you're an impossibility, a fantastic dream he might wake up

from."

"I didn't know you were a philosopher on the subject," Flora joked a bit embarrassedly.

"I'm only an observer," Cynthia returned placidly.

Flora donned her skirt and collected Cynthia from the bed. Pete was waiting in the hall

when they exited the room; he'd put on his silver gray vest.

They proceeded to the cafeteria. As they ate, Flora contemplated the rabbit. Did he

really worship her like Cynthia said? Did that make their relationship unbalanced, even more so

than it already was between a fox and a rabbit? I've never felt this way before; it's as magical for

me as it is for Pete. He might not be used to foxes, but that won't last. Our love for each other

will. But what if, when the novelty wore off for Pete, his feelings did change? Flora brushed the

thought away. Pete didn't love her because she was a fox: he loved that she was a fox because

he loved her, because they were right for each other and made each other happy.

By the time they had finished breakfast, it was half past ten. Flora and Pete planned to

catch the 17 bus at 2:07 from the stop by the student union. They would have to exchange once

to reach the art museum in downtown Wolfsbane. Flora was a little nervous about properly

visiting the colossal city. She knew Pete was from a big city himself, but she didn't know how

much he'd explored it with his parents being as protective as they were.

They worked on homework together in the library until one o'clock when they grabbed a

light lunch. Flora was able to complete her chemistry reading and problems, but she would still

have her biology reading and preparation for organic lab to complete tomorrow.

"Chester says you can drop me off at his room," Cynthia informed her when they had

finished eating.

They proceeded to Chester's room, which was in Hickory Hall, adjacent to Flora's first

dorm. Chester's roommate was a serval named Keith. Keith frequently visited his parents over

the weekend as they lived just outside of Wolfsbane, and this weekend was no exception. They

found Chester alone in his room, apparently doing homework given the book, notes, and pencil

strewn across his desk when he opened the door.

"Hi Flora, Pete," Chester meowed cheerfully. He held out his hands, "Is my mousie ready

to be in my claws?"

"I'm ready," Cynthia squeaked shyly.

Flora handed Chester Cynthia, her crutches, and her magenta book bag. "Take good

care of her," she told him.

"I'll take very good care of her," Chester purred. "Have fun on your date!"

He let the door close, but Flora stared at it hesitantly for a second before turning back

down the hall. Cynthia will be alright. It's Chester; I'm sure he's very careful, she reassured

herself as they made their way back outside.

They'd only walked a few yards past Hickory Hall when they were intercepted by a

streak of auburn fur.

"I knew it was you!" Isabelle snarled.

Flora moved to step in front of Pete but didn't need to as the rabbit darted behind her.

She broadened her stance, protectively blocking him from the enraged red vixen.

"You think you can just waltz past my window with your degeneracy on full display?"

Isabelle fumed.

"Your room is on the other side of the building!" Flora shot back. "But yes, I do think I can

walk by you with my boyfriend! Leave us alone!"

"What kind of boyfriend hides behind his girlfriend like a scared kit?" Isabelle scoffed.

"Now you're a speciesist and a sexist?" Flora rebuked. "Fuck off!"

Isabelle took a step toward them, and Flora took a careful step back, guiding Pete with

one hand.

"What kind of fox wants a pathetic rodent clinging to them like a tick?" Isabelle growled.

"Why do you care?!" Flora snapped. "Our relationship has nothing to do with you!"

"It's disgusting," Isabelle spat, taking a step toward them. "It's degrading to every fox in

Vulpineva to believe we should bring prey into our bedrooms!"

Isabelle took another step toward them, her triangular ears pinned to her head. Flora

thought she might be about to pounce.

"Get ready to run, Pete!" she hissed under her breath.

"Ah, Miss Bouillier!" a tod's voice chirped cordially.

Both Flora and Isabelle turned toward the quad to see Trevor strolling nonchalantly

across the grass.

"Who are you?!" Isabelle snapped.

The silver fox gave a sweeping bow, "Miss, I am Trevor Choquet, son of Lord Choquet,

the Count of Gorse."

"Oh! My apologies! How have we not been introduced?" Isabelle yelped in surprise.

"A frightful oversight on my part," Trevor apologized gallantly. "I had of course heard that

the Lady Bouillier's heir would be joining us this year, but I was dreadfully misinformed that they

were a tod and one of shockingly ill manners despite his noble breeding. Had I known they were

a lady as elegant and refined as yourself, I should have sought you out the very instant I arrived

on campus!"

"I'm just glad you finally did find me, Trevor," Isabelle replied, obviously flattered. "Let's

find somewhere more private to talk."

"I don't wish to interrupt! Were you conversing with this vixen and her, ah, pet?"

"It was nothing important," Isabelle quickly answered. "Come, I'll show you to my room."

Trevor followed Isabelle toward Brush Hall, but he turned his head to wink at Flora as

they left. Thank you, Trevor.

"We'd better get to the bus stop," Flora told Pete. She took his hand, and they hurried on

their way.

Fortunately, Isabelle hadn't delayed them so long that they missed their bus. Flora

followed Pete onto the vehicle and scanned her left hand as he did on the reader at the top of

the steps. The bus was about half full with many foxes but not so many red ones. The seats

decreased in size toward the back, and Flora followed Pete to a pair of seats behind a serval

and beaver and in front of an arctic fox. She noticed several eyes following her as they sat and

shyly kept her eyes on her lap.

Pete took her hand and gave it a squeeze as the bus pulled away, "A-are you okay?"

"Just people watching, and after Isabelle," she let her murmur trail off.

"Thank you for protecting me," Pete replied quietly.

Flora turned her head to look at him guiltily, "What if Trevor hadn't shown up? I hope I

could have stopped her long enough for you to get away, but-"

"I'd only run to get help. If that wasn't an option, I wouldn't leave you, Flora," Pete

interrupted.

Flora frowned worriedly, "She could kill you, Pete!" she whispered. "If I say run, you have

to!"

"Only to get help," Pete repeated. "I won't run just to save myself if you're in danger!"

"Fine, only to get help," Flora agreed. "But unless we were in the middle of nowhere, you

would need to run."

Pete nodded.

"Are you two in trouble?"

Flora turned her head to see the arctic fox looking at them with concerned yellow eyes.

"Um, no, we're okay," Flora replied awkwardly.

"It sounded like you were worried about needing to run from something," he pressed.

"Just a girl at my school," Flora returned. "She doesn't like me, and I'm afraid she might

try to hurt Pete."

The arctic tod looked confused, "She doesn't like you, but she's going to hurt someone

else?"

"Pete's my friend," Flora explained, tilting her snout toward the rabbit to indicate him.

"She might hurt him to hurt me."

"It was better when people stuck to their own species," the beaver in front of them

grumbled. "They didn't, and now the world's a mess."

Flora didn't want to argue with a stranger on the bus. Moreover, the beaver was over

three times her size.

"I think it's good you stick up for your friend," the arctic fox told her reassuringly. "I'm

sure it will all work out."

Flora hoped so, but she was mostly glad that the awkward conversation was over. They

refrained from talking further until they reached their first stop where they transferred to the 3A.

After an uneventful second ride, they arrived at the art museum.

Admission to the art museum was free; although, they did take donations. On the other

side of the lobby, Flora and Pete were immediately greeted by a towering white marble statue of

a vixen. She was standing on one leg with her snout raised, evidently twirling in dance with a

rippling sash twisting around her curvaceous body. It was hard to be entirely certain, but from

the shape of her face, Flora suspected she was meant to be of the red fox species.

Unsurprising, I guess. Flora hoped Chester wouldn't be proven entirely correct, and there would

actually be artwork depicting other species. But it was a lovely sculpture, nevertheless. Flora

offered Pete her hand, and they continued into the museum.

As they perused the artwork further, Flora was relieved to find that, whilst red foxes

featured prominently, there was a plethora of artwork depicting other animal species as well as

still lifes, landscapes, and all varieties of abstract art from the intricate to the ascetic. The

ground floor contained more sculptures composed of a wide variety of materials as well as

pottery and other decorative artifacts. The second floor contained paintings, drawings,

lithographs, and other two-dimensional art.

Flora was particularly captivated by an ominous painting of an enormous, coiled python

with glistening green scales and cold yellow eyes. She stood rooted to the marble floor as she

stared at the snake, breathing shallowly and half expecting it to spring forth from the painting

and crush her in its cold, unyielding coils. She didn't move until Pete squeezed her hand,

breaking eye contact with the serpent to look at the rabbit.

"I-it's creepy," he whispered nervously. "I'm glad we don't have those in Vulpineva."

Flora nodded. As they continued, she considered her reaction to the snake. Was this a

taste of how prey felt about predators? There were some key differences between reptilian and

mammalian or avian carnivores, however: reptiles weren't civilized species. They couldn't be

reasoned or negotiated with or even meaningfully communicated with at all; they would simply

eat you. It was easy to see them as terrifying monsters without conscience or mercy. They

aren't monsters; they're simply beasts, Flora scolded herself. They weren't capable of

contemplating the rightness of their actions and thus not truly responsible for them. Does that

mean that when predators ate prey, we were worse than they are?

It was a disconcerting thought. The common refrain was that, before lab-grown meat,

predators hadn't had a choice, but Flora didn't think that was really true. They might have

farmed insects like the insectivores had and still did. Even if they hadn't had a choice, they must

have known they were killing and consuming people who could talk and reason just like them,

who had families and friends, who fell in love. It must have been a horrible world to live in, even

if you were a predator. Flora glanced away from the mountain landscape they were viewing to

the rabbit beside her and squeezed his hand. Pete looked up at her, and she smiled

affectionately as their gazes met.

"I'm glad we came here," she murmured.

About half an hour later, they rested their feet by sitting on one of the viewing benches in

a room full of grandiose paintings depicting the gods and mythical heroes. The gods, as

everyone knew, were beyond species and capable of assuming any shape; however, here, they

were predictably mostly depicted as red foxes. Nevertheless, Flora did spot a painting where

Hermes was depicted as a hare. Whether the gods existed, Flora didn't really know, but she

believed the stories about them were merely fiction.

As she gazed around the room, Flora noticed Pete scooch closer. His thigh pressed

against hers, and his left arm slid across her lower back, his fingers curling through her fur on

the far side of her waist. Flora wrapped her tail around behind him so that it brushed past his

right thigh with the bushy tip dangling beside his leg. She reached her right arm across his

shoulders and squeezed him close. Flora felt a tingling sensation run down her spine and turned

her head to spot a middle-aged red vixen staring at them from what had been the corner of

Flora's vision. The red vixen quickly looked away, but Flora immediately became aware of other

furtive glances in their direction. It seemed like every museum patron in the room was suddenly

more interested in them than the artwork!

"Can I take your picture?"

Flora turned her attention back in front of them to see another red vixen, who Flora

judged to be a few years her senior, holding up an expensive-looking camera. The vixen wore

large, tortoiseshell-rimmed glasses, a dark green, pleated midi skirt, and a gray tweed jacket.

"Just look at each other like you were before. That was really something!"

Flora shifted uncomfortably, and she noticed Pete had stiffened nervously beside her. "I

think we'd prefer it if you didn't," she replied awkwardly.

"Please," the vixen wheedled. "It was so perfect. Tradition juxtaposed with modernity!

And very romantic too."

"It would be hard knowing people are watching," Flora returned embarrassedly, trying to

find a compelling excuse.

"Pretend you're alone. Focus on one another."

"What are you going to do with it?" Flora asked uncomfortably.

"I'm a student at Wolfsbane's Fine Arts Institute," the vixen answered. "It's for my

photography course."

The fact she was also a student made Flora feel a little guilty about refusing her request.

"It won't be posted online? It's only for a class?"

"I promise! I won't post it anywhere without your permission!"

Flora glanced down at Pete, "Pete?"

"If y-you're okay with it," he murmured nervously.

"I guess we'll try," Flora agreed.

She reached her arm back across Pete's shoulders and squeezed him close. He curled

his fingers through her fur. Flora looked down into his nervous expression and offered him a

reassuring smile. Click!

"Got it! That was perfect!" the vixen chirped happily, grinning down at her camera's

screen. "Thanks a ton!" She looked back up at them with a friendly smile, "I'm Mabel."

"I'm Flora, and this is Pete," Flora replied awkwardly.

"'Flora.' That's an interesting name."

Flora wasn't sure anyone had ever told her that, "I guess."

"What brings you to Wolfsbane?"

"I'm a first-year at RCV; Pete is too."

"Really?! I heard it's tough to get in there! How is it?"

"It's fine."

"What's your major?"

"I want to major in biochemistry?"

"How about you, Pete?"

"S-same," Pete squeaked nervously.

"Both biochem. majors. Did you meet in class?"

"Sort of," Flora answered vaguely.

"And I take it this is a date. How long have you been seeing each other?"

"A couple weeks."

"Well, I wish you luck! If a fox and a rabbit can get together, then we all ought to be able

to get along, right?"

"I guess so," Flora answered embarrassedly.

The red vixen turned to go, "See you around, Flora. Thanks for the picture!" She trotted

out of the right side of the room.

"Let's go somewhere else," Flora murmured to Pete. With several pairs of eyes watching

them, they left the opposite way the vixen had gone.

By the time they had finished exploring the museum, it was approaching five o'clock.

Flora winced as her stomach grumbled loudly; she hadn't eaten much lunch.

"I'm hungry too," Pete commented. "Do, um, you want to go to dinner now?"

Flora nodded, "Do you remember where it is, or do we need to look it up?"

"I remember."

They left the museum, and Pete led the way to the restaurant, which was only a couple

blocks away. Pete held Flora's hand tightly and kept close to her side as they traversed the

bustling sidewalks of the megacity. Fortunately, they arrived at the restaurant without incident.

The sign painted on the large front window simply read North Indian Cuisine. They were greeted

inside by a Bengal fox in a white dress shirt with the top buttons undone and sleeves rolled up.

The light brown and white tod was half a head shorter than Flora though his triangular ears were

proportionately larger.

He smiled at Flora pleasantly, "Welcome, Miss. How many for you?"

"Just us two," Flora answered.

The fox turned his attention to Pete as if he hadn't really noticed him or at least hadn't

realized they were together. Pete crept partway behind Flora as he fell under the probing gaze

of the vulpine's large brown eyes.

"There's a bit of a wait," the Bengal fox noted in a less friendly tone.

"W-we have a reservation," Pete squeaked nervously. "Under Fenner."

The Bengal tod turned and took a tablet off of the wooden podium behind him. He

carefully scanned the device before looking up. "I have you for five-thirty. It's only just five now,"

he stated coolly.

"We can wait if our table isn't ready," Flora replied.

The tod turned his head toward a crimson-cushioned bench on their left, "I'll let you know

when it is."

They sat with Flora on one end and Pete on her left.

"It smells nice," Flora commented optimistically, trying to brush aside the discomfort from

the tod's unwelcoming behavior after he'd realized they were together.

"Maybe I should have picked somewhere else," Pete murmured glumly.

Flora reached her arm across his shoulders and gave him a comforting squeeze, "I'm

sure it will be fine."

Under other circumstances, Flora probably would have left, but Pete had gone to the

effort of picking out this restaurant and making a reservation. Besides, she was hungry. If this

restaurant was busy, they would likely have to wait longer somewhere else. It was only that one

tod, Flora told herself. Even if he's the owner, the other staff might be nicer. Her stomach

growled angrily with a twinge to let Flora know it wasn't happy about the wait. Pete looked down

at her belly uncomfortably.

"I-I'm sorry. I should have made the reservation earlier," he murmured apologetically.

"I'll be fine," Flora returned a bit embarrassedly.

"Hey, are you two waiting for a table or a to-go order?"

Flora looked up to see a gray mongoose in a coral vest regarding them questioningly.

"We have a reservation for five-thirty," Flora answered. "Under Fenner."

"I can seat you," they replied.

The mongoose grabbed a pair of menus from under the podium, and Flora and Pete

hopped up to follow. The mongoose waddled back into the restaurant with their bushy, white-

tipped, gray tail waving behind them. They showed Flora and Pete to a two-seat table on the

right edge of the dining room.

The walls of the room were painted an orangish gold whilst the tables were sandy-

colored wood and had horizontally barred chairs with crimson cushions. The room was softly lit

by two black bars of overhead lights, and the dining area was even more aromatically perfused

with savory spices. However, the detail Flora noticed most saliently was that it was only three-

quarters full, a fact that caused anger to clench her stomach. If she hadn't thought it would get

them thrown out, she would have demanded to see the Bengal fox so that she could give him a

piece of her mind! The mongoose set the menus on the table, and Flora and Pete sat.

"Can I get you anything to drink besides water?"

"Water's fine," Flora replied.

"Just water," Pete added.

"I'll be back in a minute if you want to look over appetizers," the mongoose stated

placidly. They waddled away.

Flora snatched up her menu and quickly scanned the appetizers, "Did you want any

appetizers, Pete?"

Pete scanned his own menu, "Umm, not really, but, uh, you can get something. I'll pay."

"I think we should split the bill," Flora replied.

"O-okay," Pete agreed awkwardly.

Flora continued to scan the menu. "I think we should get naan though, or do you want

roti?"

"W-whatever you want."

"I think I want the roti. Did you want me to get something we can share so that we can

both try two things?"

"I, um, i-if you're hungry you should get whatever you want," Pete answered

embarrassedly.

"Have you looked at the menu? Do you know what you're getting?"

"Y-yeah, I was going to get the rayo ko saag. It's mustard greens, so I don't know if you'll

want any."

Flora scanned down the menu to read the description. "I could try some," she concluded.

"But if you don't want to try anything else, I can pick a meat dish."

"You should get whatever you're hungry for. I, um, we don't need to share."

"I guess I'll have the chicken tikka masala then. I haven't had much meat yet today."

Pete looked a bit relieved by her decision.

The mongoose returned, poured their water, and took their orders.

When the waiter had gone, Flora smiled at Pete warmly, "See? Except for that one jerk,

it's going just fine."

Pete smiled back shyly, "I guess so. Thank you for coming with me, Flora."

"I ought to be thanking you for inviting me on such a nice date," Flora returned

cheerfully. "The museum was fun, and the food here certainly smells good. One bigot doesn't

change that."

"He was okay until he knew you were with me," Pete replied awkwardly.

"That's his problem, not yours," Flora replied firmly.

"Wh-what about at the museum with that art student?" Pete asked embarrassedly.

"That was weird," Flora returned emphatically.

"I guess it's not just my parents or your ex-roommate who think we shouldn't be

together," Pete murmured uncomfortably.

Flora scooted forward to reach across the table and turned her hands palms-up to invite

Pete to put his hands in hers. He placed his smaller, blunt-clawed hands on hers, and Flora

clasped her thumbs over their soft-furred tops. She smiled at him reassuringly.

"I don't care if everyone thinks it's weird," she declared earnestly. "We belong together,

Pete."

"I want to be with you, Flora," Pete murmured. "But I don't want to be in your way. I don't

want to be a burden to you."

"You would never be that, Pete!" Flora chirped fervently. "I love you! I'm so happy when

I'm with you. We'll get through whatever anyone throws at us!"

"I love you too, Flora. I don't deserve someone like you."

"You deserve to be happy, Pete. We make each other happy, so we do deserve each

other!"

"You could be with someone better," Pete murmured self-consciously.

"There's no one better for me than my brave, sweet bun!" Flora assured him sincerely.

"But I'm not brave. I'm-"

"Hush! I love you, and that's what matters. I'm here to support you with anything you

want to improve, but I don't want to hear you just tear yourself down. I'm just a fox, Pete, the

same way you're a rabbit. We're different but not that different, and you shouldn't feel like you're

lesser."

"I couldn't be like you, Flora," he murmured self-consciously.

"If you were just like me, you wouldn't be my brave, sweet bun. Like I said, I'll help you

work on anything you want to improve, but you don't need to turn into my clone. You don't need

to change to be 'good enough' for me, Pete. You should only work on what you want to change

for yourself."

"I want to be confident like you, Flora. I want to be strong enough to support you too."

Flora smiled warmly, "Then we'll work on those things together! But you'll always be my

brave, sweet bun."

Pete smiled softly, "Thank you, Flora. You'll always be my, um, my, uh," he paused

embarrassedly.

"The fox who loves you so, so much," Flora offered affectionately.

"The strong, beautiful, caring vixen I love more than anything," he concluded lovingly.

Flora smiled at the rabbit fondly, "I'm glad we can be together, Pete. I was thinking

earlier how horrible it must have been before. People should understand how wonderful it is that

we can love each other like this."

"It still wouldn't have been possible for me if I hadn't met you, Flora. You gave me a

chance to live; I was too afraid before."

"All because a fox startled you in the shower," Flora jested affectionately. "It upset me

then, but I'm glad it happened."

"I really thought you were going to eat me," Pete recalled embarrassedly.

"I know. You told me to hurry up and do it. You're lucky I didn't throw up on you instead,"

she teased.

"I'm sorry, Flora. It was cruel even if I didn't mean to be," Pete apologized.

"It's water under the bridge," Flora returned placidly. "Besides, you really thought I was

going to. You might have said worse things."

"You heard them from my parents anyway," Pete noted embarrassedly.

"Maybe I just need to put them through the same experience," Flora joked.

"I wouldn't blame you if you did," Pete replied seriously.

Flora was trying to imagine how such an encounter with the hostile rabbits would go

when she spotted the mongoose waddling toward their table with a tray of dishes in hand. They

placed their respective bowls of food in front of them along with plates for eating on and placed

the bowl of rice and plate of roti between them.

"Thank you," Flora chirped.

"Thanks," Pete murmured shyly.

The mongoose bobbed their head in acknowledgement, tucking the empty tray under

their arm. "So, is this your first date?" they asked mildly.

Flora smiled shyly, "Sort of. We've been hanging out for a couple weeks, but this is the

first time we've formally been out on a date."

"I couldn't help hearing some of what you were saying," the mongoose admitted. "I wish

you luck. It's not that often you see predators and prey together. Well, enjoy, and let me know if

you need anything else." They left.

Flora felt a little awkward about the encounter, but she offered Pete a reassuring smile.

Not everyone was against them.

They began eating, Flora's stomach finally mollified as the delicious, spicy food slid

inside. They ate quietly for a little while until Pete spoke.

"Did you want to try some of mine still, Flora?"

"Only if you have more than you want."

"I can eat it all, but you can try some," Pete pushed the oblong dish across the table.

Flora took a spoonful of the chopped leaves and ate them with rice. She chewed

carefully, mulling it over, then swallowed. "It's nice," she concluded. She pushed the dish back

to Pete.

"You really liked it?" Pete asked curiously.

"Sure. It tasted interesting. You can try mine if you want to, but I don't think you'll enjoy

it."

"N-no thanks," Pete returned embarrassedly.

They returned to eating.

"What does meat taste like?" Pete asked awkwardly after a few minutes.

Flora considered the question then shrugged, "It's hard to describe. You can have a bite

if you want."

Pete nodded nervously.

Flora skewered a piece of chicken on her fork and held it across the table to the rabbit,

"Maybe just take a nibble to start," she suggested.

Pete leaned his head forward and sniffed at the spicy piece of meat. He jerked his head

back and slapped a hand over his nose. "I-I don't think I want any," he stammered

embarrassedly.

Flora pulled the chicken back and ate it herself, chomping it a few times before gulping it

down. "It's only natural we'd have different tastes," she concluded mildly.

"Y-you liked mine," Pete pointed out.

"It's cooked and spiced. I doubt I'd like mustard greens raw."

"Yours is cooked and spiced too."

"But I already eat vegetables. You never eat meat. It's alright if we eat different things,

Pete. We should because our needs are different."

"I just want to know what it's like," Pete explained. "I want to understand you better."

"What I eat isn't that big a deal," Flora dismissed lightly.

"It's the reason people don't think we should be together," Pete rejoined.

"I think if I were a vegetarian, they'd have the same concerns," Flora returned. "It's about

what I'm evolved to eat. We can't change what we're evolved to be, but we can decide what we

do with it."

"I, I still want to understand. I want to see the world how you do," Pete pressed.

"I don't think it's all that different except that you're a little shy," Flora returned.

"We have different instincts," Pete argued.

Flora considered this briefly. "You don't see me as a bloodthirsty monster anymore, and

I don't see prey as potential food, even if that's what my instincts would tell me. But if our

perspectives are different, that doesn't prevent us from understanding the feelings we hold for

each other: you know I love you, and I know you love me. Maybe I can never know what it's like

to be a rabbit, or you a fox. But as long as we care for and listen to each other, we'll be fine."

Pete nodded, seeming to accept her conclusion. They finished their meals, and when

the mongoose collected their dishes, Flora ordered a mango lassi for dessert.

"Can you bring us two straws?" she requested.

The mongoose nodded before returning to the kitchen.

"S-sweets aren't really good for rabbits," Pete murmured embarrassedly.

"I know, but it's okay for you to have a little. We'll share, and you can have just as much

as you want, even if that's only a taste."

The gray mongoose returned a few minutes later with the orange-colored drink, setting it

in the middle of the table. "Enjoy," they said a bit amusedly before waddling away.

Flora leaned forward and delicately took the end of one L-shaped, white straw between

her short, sharp front teeth, using her flexible tongue to form a seal under and around the end of

the straw with her hard palate on top. Pete had to stand in front of his chair and support himself

with his hands as he leaned over the table to catch the end of the other straw between his large

incisors. Flora slurped at the sweet and creamy drink, the cooling nectar bathing her tongue.

She swallowed her first taste of the fruity drink and raised her eyes to meet Pete's blue eyes.

"I-it's good," Pete squeaked embarrassedly, inadvertently releasing the straw, which

turned to the side.

Flora turned his straw's end back toward him with her finger, "Have more if you want,"

she murmured.

They both took the ends of their respective straws in their mouths again. They gazed

dreamily into each other's eyes as they languorously drank the blended mango drink. When

their straws finally slurped the bottom of the glass, they sat back. Flora smiled at Pete fondly.

"Thanks for bringing me here, Pete," she murmured. "This was a nice first date."

The mongoose returned with the bill. Flora and Pete split it 50:50, and after the

mongoose scanned their left hands, Flora and Pete thanked them and left.

They made their way to the nearest bus stop of their route back to RCV, Pete once

again clinging close to Flora's side. It was only six o'clock, and the hot late-September sun still

beat down on the crowded sidewalks, the heat thickening the air with the pungent aromas of

countless species. The scent of fox was particularly strong though not as overpowering as on

campus and with greater variety. Despite needing to weave around other pedestrians to avoid

bumping into them, Flora was somewhat grateful for the crowds because, when her gut, hyper-

stimulated by the spicy food, slipped out a fart, she was fairly certain no one was able to

ascertain who it had been.

Their bus dropped them off outside of RCV's library an uncomfortable forty minutes later,

and Flora immediately proceeded inside to relieve her bowels. To her relief, Pete didn't follow

her into the bathroom, which would have made the embarrassing business much more so. She

felt much better when she emerged.

"I guess we should go get Cynthia," Flora stated.

They returned to Hickory Hall and climbed the stairs to Chester's room on the third floor.

Flora knocked, and after a few seconds, Chester opened the door.

"Hey, you're back! How was it?" he meowed cheerfully.

"It was lovely," Flora replied sunnily. "You were right that there were a lot of red fox

paintings, but there were lots of others too. And the restaurant Pete picked was delicious."

"I'm glad it was a success," Chester returned genially. "Are you here to get Cynthia?"

Flora nodded, "Yes, where is she?"

"She's a little 'tied up' at the moment," Chester chaffed. "But I'll set her loose for you.

You can come in."

Flora and Pete stepped into the room, letting the door shut behind them. Chester sat

back at his desk, where it appeared he'd been doing homework. It wasn't until the tabby crossed

his right ankle over his left thigh that Flora spotted Cynthia: the mouse was tightly tied to the

underside of Chester's right ankle by a yellow ribbon that was wrapped around the cat's ankle

and the mouse several times. Cynthia's head poked out of the yellow bonds at one end, and her

nose was pressed against the back of Chester's pink footpad. Chester nonchalantly untied the

ribbon then held the flustered mouse and her belongings out to Flora. Flora accepted her gently,

hoping she was alright after spending who-knew-how-long tied to the cat's foot.

"C-can't you keep me longer?" Cynthia squeaked anxiously.

Chester smiled at her fondly but shook his head, "Another time, mousie. Lance is coming

over as soon as I let him know Flora picked you up."

"L-let me know whenever you have time!" Cynthia pleaded.

Chester purred, half closing his golden eyes and smiling with gentle amusement,

"Alright, mousie, I'll let you know."

"Thanks for taking care of her," Flora put in awkwardly.

"No problem," Chester replied placidly.

"Goodnight, Chester," Flora chirped as amicably as she could.

"See you."

Flora tucked Cynthia protectively against her chest and turned toward the door, which

Pete opened for them. Flora kept the mouse clasped close to her chest as she trotted back

down the hall toward the stairs with Pete on her tail.

"Are you alright, Cynthia?" she asked worriedly when they were outside and quickly

making their way to their own dorm.

"I'm fine," Cynthia answered embarrassedly.

Flora slowed to peer down into her hands, "You're sure?"

"I'm sure," Cynthia replied more firmly. "I didn't expect you to see that, but I was fine.

Chester takes good care of me. I know it can look like abuse, but the point is to explore stuff like

that safely. Chester's a very responsive and conscientious dom. I feel completely safe with him."

"Alright, I'm glad you had fun," Flora replied.

While she still felt protective toward the little mouse, she did her best to accept what

Cynthia had said and push her own discomfort aside. This was between Cynthia and Chester,

and as much as she cared about the mouse, Cynthia wasn't Flora's ward. It's Chester; I'm sure

he's safe like she says, Flora reassured herself. Regardless, Flora was glad that Cynthia was

safely back in her paws. They made it past Brush Hall without another Isabelle incident and

returned to Hollow Oak Hall, room 337.

"I'm going to do some reading for biology then take a shower," Flora told Pete. "But if

you want to come by later, you can spend the night again if you want."

Pete smiled shyly, "I-I'll come by. I'd sleep with you every night, Flora."

Flora smiled back affectionately, "I'd like that too, but you're a bit of a bed hog. So

maybe only when we don't have school the next day."

"O-okay."

"See you in a little bit then." Flora pushed through the door into her and Cynthia's room.

She set Cynthia along with her bag on the mouse-sized bed and carefully propped her crutches

at the bed's foot. "Do you still have homework to finish for next week?" she inquired.

"Yeah, but I'll finish it tomorrow," Cynthia answered.

Flora considered the mouse for a moment before asking, "Could I hold you on my lap

while I do mine then?"

"Okay, just let me grab my earbuds."

Cynthia retrieved her earbuds from her bag. Then Flora scooped her back up and sat at

her desk, placing the mouse in the indentation between her thighs and belly on the lacy white

surface of her skirt. Cynthia pulled her phone out of its holster and plugged in the earbuds. Flora

stroked a finger over the top of the mouse's tiny head, causing her to look up.

"I'm glad you enjoyed your time with Chester," Flora murmured. "But I'm glad you're

back safe with me. I believe you that it's safe, but I still worry. You're special to me, Cynthia, and

I don't want anything bad to happen."

"You're special to me too, Flora," Cynthia squeaked affectionately. "You don't need to

worry, but I understand if you do. I don't mind you trying to look after me. When you're as small

as I am, it's good to know someone bigger has your safety in mind. I know if I ever were in

trouble, you'd be there."

Flora petted her head again then leaned over to withdraw her notebook and pencil from

her book bag. Cynthia put her earbuds in, and the mouse listened to music in the warm divot of

Flora's lap while Flora took notes on her biology reading.

After her shower, Flora texted Pete that he could come to their room. The rabbit arrived

a few seconds later, his fur, like Flora's, fluffed up from blow drying after his shower. Flora was

reclined on her bed with her back propped against her reading pillow, and she patted her lap

invitingly.

Pete scrambled up onto the bed and into Flora's lap, but instead of sitting, he crawled

over her legs and pressed his nose against her soft belly. Nuzzling her affectionately, he let out

a contented sigh before flopping down with his chest wedged between her thighs and his chin

resting on her lower abdomen. He wrapped his slender arms around her hips. His long ears

contentedly laid down his back, he gazed up at her lovingly with the ice-ringed, limpid black

pools that comprised his ocular orbs. Flora smiled down at him softly and stroked her hand

down his velvety ears.

"My sweet bun," she murmured lovingly. "Did you decide you like my belly? You were

giving it some worried looks earlier," she teased softly.

"I was worried you were hungry," Pete replied placidly.

"Hungry enough to fill my belly with a sweet bun maybe," Flora teased.

"Only that you were hungry."

Flora stroked his ears again then wrapped her tail around her left hip and flopped the

bushy end over his head. She smirked down at his ears sticking out behind the black bottle-

brush tip. "How do you like my tail?"

"It tickles," Pete commented. "And now I can't see you."

Flora lifted the tip of her tail to peer under at him then dropped it back down, "That's too

bad. You'll just have to imagine."

"I could never imagine someone like you, Flora," Pete breathed. "Every time I see you,

I'm amazed."

Flora lifted the tip of her tail to smirk at him, "You must either have a poor imagination or

a poor memory," she jested.

"You're incredible! I can hardly believe you're real unless I'm looking at you!" Pete

declared fervently.

"What's it like when you can't see me then?"

"A dream," Pete breathed. "A wonderful dream I can only experience when I'm with you

again."

Flora brushed her tail back so that Pete's eyes were uncovered, "It's not a dream, Pete,"

she murmured. "We can be together like this for as long as you love me and I love you."

"Forever," Pete breathed. "I could never stop loving you, Flora."

"Forever," Flora agreed softly.

Pete squeezed his arms around her hips and nuzzled his nose deeper into her fluffy

white belly fur. Flora stroked his head and ears until he drifted into a contented slumber.