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The mouse swallowed, blinking a bit. "W-what?"

"May I nuzzle your nose?" the snow rabbit repeated, quite properly, his bobtail flicker-flicking. He was here to meet with Deering, to prep for their briefing with the Council's security committee. The meeting didn't start for another hour.

"Why?" was the quiet, squinting question, standing in front of his desk. And the snow rabbit standing just inside the closed door. They were in Deering's office.

"It is a traditional greeting among my species. When you are meeting someone, you touch noses. Not many follow the practice anymore, but ... I do. So ... " A raised brow. "May I?"

Deering nodded a bit, padding forward a few steps, whiskers all a-twitch.

The snow rabbit, at this point, lightly bumped his sooty-black nose against the mouse's pink one. A few seconds of friendly rubbing, and he stopped, eye-smiling as he pulled back. "It is a pleasure to meet you," he said, nodding.

And the mouse gave a shy smile, whiskers still twitching a bit. "That wasn't so bad," was all he said, tail snaking through the air with a quick bout of energy. Before it slowed its pace.

"It is not meant to be. Though I am unsure as to how it started, I believe it must've had something to do with trading scents, trying to put whoever you greet ... in a state of ease." A pause. "However, if I were to be less academic, I could say, perhaps, that rubbing noses is simply a disarming gesture in and of itself, and we started doing so because it felt nice." An eye-smile. "But I have a hard time forgoing the academic, sometimes." And he looked to Deering. "Don't mouses have particular greetings?"

"We, uh ... get all sniffy an' whisker-twitchy an' wide-eyed. But we're like that most o' the time, anyway, so ... "

" ... I see. Yes, your nose did tickle." An affirmative nod. "It is quite active, isn't it?"

Deering nodded, bare foot-paws shuffling on the carpet as he went back around his desk, back to his swivel-chair. Slowly lowering into it. His butter-tan fur warm, soft. And the creamy-white of his neck and front-side looking even softer. "Active? Uh, yeah ... well, most o' my body is."

"Snow rabbits can be very active, at times. I enjoy distance running." He raised a big, bare foot-paw. "As well as kick-boxing." The foot-paw lowered back to the carpet. "I find exercising, in general, to be quite invigorating. However, most of my strength and endurance is heavily-centered in my lower body. Rabbits have unparalleled leg-strength." A civil, little eye-smile. "Which has other recreational benefits, as well."

Deering assumed he meant breeding, but didn't ask. He didn't want to be awkward. So, he just replied, "Well, I enjoy, uh ... scurrying. And, uh, playin' things. Games, I mean."

"Games? You enjoy sports?" Russo asked, having successfully engaged the rodent in an all-out conversation. Which had been his intent. He wished to make friends here. After all, his posting might become a permanent one if a new treaty between the High Command and the Furry Federation went through.

"I like t'play basketball ... and I like t'watch football. Racing, though is my favorite."

"Ah. I find it interesting you list football."

"How come?" A little blink.

"The majority of football players are predators. One could gage that three-fourths of any football team is predatory. Yet you, as prey, enjoy the sport. A sport that is inherently aggressive. Lots of hitting, tackling, body contact. I would not think that you, as a mouse, would enjoy such a thing."

"I, uh ... never really thought of it like that," Deering admitted. "I dunno."

"I enjoy psychology, so you will have to excuse me," Russo said, giving a head-tilt, waggling his antenna-like ears. "I studied it in school. It aids me in inter-species communications. Which, as an ambassador, I need to be an expert in. I need to know how certain species think, how they react ... how they are inside. As well as out," he added.

Deering just gave a little nod.

"Am I intimidating you?"

"Uh ... no."

"I do not mean to make you think that I am psycho-analyzing you. I do not wish to make you anxious. I assure you, I am just trying to be friendly."

"It's, uh, fine. Uh ... you can sit down?" the mouse said. Meaning for it to be a statement. But it came out as a semi-question.

"Thank you. The couch?" Russo asked.

"That's fine ... " The mouse swallowed, nose sniffing the air. Whiskers twitching. And his ears swiveling ever-so-slightly.

"Are you alright?"

"Mm?"

The snow rabbit nodded at the mouse. "You are twitching most rapidly."

"Oh, that's ... that's me bein' active," the mouse said, giving a bit of a squeak. "Really, it's normal." Another squeak.

"Ah. I see. I am sorry. I have not spent much time around mouses."

"That's okay. I've not spent much time 'round snow rabbits. Or, well ... any time, actually," Deering emphasized. "You're the first snow rabbit I've met."

"Indeed? How lovely," Russo said, giving an ice-blue eye-smile, that enigmatic 'smile with the eyes' thing that only snow-furs could manage. "Well, I hope I represent my species well."

"You do," Deering assured. "Uh ... you were at the party last night? I saw you there, but, uh ... " He trailed, inwardly mad at himself for constantly saying 'uh.' Stop stumbling over your words, Deering. Find some confidence, for heaven's sake.

"Yes, I was there. I was drinking in the sights, as it were. The sounds. The scents. It allowed for good observation of many different species." A pause. "You see, back home, it's mostly just us snow rabbits. Our space is controlled by us alone. We have other species living in our territory. The Arctic hares. Some immigrants from Federation space, as well as former Federation officers serving on our ships ... but, for all intents and purposes, we haven't the species diversity that the Furry Federation has."

"Nothin' wrong with that."

"Indeed not. It is," Russo said, "as it is." A slight breath, and he cleared his throat. "I did meet, as the night wore on, a most interesting femme. Perhaps you know her ... "

Deering raised a brow.

"Her name was Astrid. A jaguar. One of the feline representatives."

"Oh. Uh ... well, I know 'bout Sylvan. He's a cougar. But I've never met Astrid. I'm new here, myself," he explained.

"Oh, I see. I did not know that."

"Yeah, I just got this job. This is my first week."

"Then were are both newcomers." An eye-smile. "Perhaps we can be each other's moral support?"

"Um ... yeah, I guess so," the mouse said, whiskers twitching.

"Anyhow, this Astrid, this jaguar ... well, to be frank, approached me with breeding in mind."

"Oh."

"Yes." A light, serious nod.

"What did you do?" A wide-eyed chitter, paws on his desk and leaning forward a bit.

"Well, I had to decline. I know my species has a reputation ... well, all rabbits," he corrected, "have a reputation, but snow rabbits in particular. Our breeding habits are complicated. Breeding parties. And lacking the emotion to ... fully express any love we may feel," he explained. "And even choosing to breed for love in the first place. For the longest time, my species believed that love would destroy us. That it could, potentially, melt our freezes, open the flood-gates to feral insanity ... but that is not the case. And as we faced bloodshed and mortality in war after war, the pain was too great for logic to heal. Logic and science, in our time of greatest need, failed us miserably."

Deering bit his lip, dishy ears swiveling, listening.

"We needed meaning. We needed purpose. We needed to know there was ... more. Hence, the Christian faith took hold. It began to spread, and we are now a sizable minority. Enough to impact our culture, anyhow. Several of the most-decorated young captains in the High Command are of the faith. Captains Aria and Graham. Have you heard of them?"

"No, I'm, uh ... 'fraid not."

"Ah. Well, they have been great influences on me. As far as peers go, I mean. Regardless, and to make a long story short: I no longer follow the standard breeding practices most snow rabbits still indulge in. Which means no more open-breeding. Or no more breeding parties, to be specific."

"What's the difference?" Deering asked, quietly.

"Open-breeding is breeding with anyone. Breeding parties are where you breed with anyone ... within a set group. You're still non-monogamous, but it's a compromise of sorts. It's ... " A slight sigh. "If I start to explain it, I will go on for hours. It is quite complicated. I told you I was interested in psychology? Well, the psychology of my own species is quite intricate."

"Mouses are pretty intricate," Deering offered.

"I know." A friendly eye-smile. "I did not mean to imply otherwise. In many ways, actually, our species are direct opposites. Though we are both prey ... you are the epitome of over-emotion, and I am the epitome of under-emotion. We are two extremes. And where our lack of emotion steers us to engage in breeding parties and the like ... your surplus of emotions prompts you to rely on one sole fur. It's ... it is," Russo said, "as I said: extremely complicated. I will stop myself before I go on a true tangent."

"It's okay. You're not botherin' me," Deering said honestly.

A polite head-tilt. And, twiddling his ears and giving a singular whisker-twitch, the snow rabbit continued, "I will add that: used to ... used to," he said, quietly, "if I had been approached like that, like how that jaguar approached me last night? I would've bred with her in a heartbeat. So, you can imagine," he confided, "that even though I maintained my air of calm, even though I was following my beliefs ... I did have stray thoughts. And my heart-rate did increase while in Astrid's presence."

"I can, uh ... well, I know that is. I mean, I know how that feels. To have a femme make your heart go."

"Yes. It is very palpable. But it would've been the paramount of illogic to breed with a loose, tipsy jaguar who came out of nowhere in a crowded dining hall. Plus, I knew before she opened her muzzle that she'd been sent over to seduce me. To manipulate me. I will not go into the details, but suffice it to say," Russo continued, "she only wanted to use me." A small breath. "My body might not have cared, but my mind ... found that to offensive."

Deering took a small, inaudible breath, whispering, "I know how that is ... "

" ... pardon?" Russo went, quietly.

"Nothing. I just ... I've been used before," the deer mouse said, blankly. He blinked a few times, clearing his throat. "So, uh, what'd you do? Did she go away?"

"I invited her to sit with me. To converse. To share some carrot cake."

"And did she?"

"Yes. Surprisingly. Though I suspect it was because she hoped, on some level, that with her skills of feline seduction ... she could work herself into my pants despite my declarative 'no'." A pause. And an enigmatic look. "As we talked, though, I think she began to genuinely enjoy the banter. The back and forth. The exchange of ideas, words, personalities." A sigh. "I know I did, at least." He scrunched his features, looking puzzled for a moment. "Do you know what I think?"

"What?" the mouse whispered.

"I think she is an atypical feline," he said, nodding lightly. "An atypical feline who spends all her time being stereotypical ... because that's how she thinks she needs to be. Because that gets her power, sex, et cetera. But I can see, in her eyes, that she's uncomfortable with some of the things she does. Or, at least, uncomfortable with the things Sylvan, her colleague, does." Another sigh on his part. "I do not know. I thought I saw something genuine in her." A pause. "Physically, she is ... supple, striking. Her spots, her feline grace. Felines may not be gracious, but they are certainly," the snow rabbit confided, male-to-male, "graceful. Her body would've been delicious to both my paws and my lips. I wanted her so badly," he whispered, shifting on the couch. "I am sorry for saying that, but it is the truth."

"Nothin' to feel ashamed about. I know how that feels," the mouse said, yet again, keenly listening to Russo's words. Dishy ears arched and swiveling.

"I am glad you do. I am glad I am not coming off like I am irrational. I just ... I should like to see her again. However, without the benefit of a dining hall full of chatting furs, and without the benefit of alcohol ... I wonder if it would go as smoothly. Make no mistake: I would gladly breed with her. But only as a mate. Only out of love. I know she openly-breeds ... her attitude betrayed that. Could she stop doing that? And devote to me? Predator-prey relationships have notorious failure rates, on top of that, and ... " A shake of the head. " ... she intrigued me, is all. Sparked a curiosity. Which has refused to go away." A pause. "I should like to see her again," he repeated.

"But you don't know if she feels the same?"

"She is a jungle cat. Whatever she feels," Russo stated, "she will twist it, refract it, deny it ... turn it into a power play, a show of dominance, a sign of aloofness. You rarely get upfront, honest answers or expressions from felines. Everything about them requires guesswork."

"Yeah ... I totally understand."

"I am simply lonely, very far from home, and ... " The snow rabbit sounded, for a moment, vulnerable. " ... and I just crave affection. But I must be careful. I must not let that craving influence me into making bad decisions. I must be patient. I must pray ... and trust that God will lead me to where I need to be led." A pause. "My faith comes first. Without faith, what does one have left? Intellect? And what if the mind whittles away with age? Or what if the body succumbs to disease? Will intellect save me then? Will intellect keep my soul burning strong? No ... only faith, in the face of death, makes any sense. I have been very close to death," the snow rabbit whispered, "before." He blanked out a bit, remembering the wars. He was only twenty-three. But he already had enough bad memories to last a fur a lifetime. And, clearing his throat, he shook his head, trying to clear them out. "And even," he added, "when one is far from death ... faith can give everything in life such a context."

"I feel the same way," Deering whispered. "About faith. And love. I mean, about, uh ... the affection part. And sorta 'bout the home part. Cause I'm from the countryside, and this is the city, an' I don't know anyone here." A pause. "I don't really know that many furs back home, either, to tell the truth. I'm just ... solitary," he whispered, sighing through his pink, sniffy nose. He didn't comment on the snow rabbit's confession of having been 'very close to death,' cause he didn't want to dig into anything painful. He just said, quietly, "I got pain, too."

A sad, little look from the snow rabbit. "I know. It is quite evident," he whispered, "that you carry a burden ... " He didn't elaborate on that. "But what is it the Bible tells us? That trials can be joys? For, through trial, we are cut, forged ... stones turned, with friction, into shimmering gems. We learn. And we grow. Tension is necessary to give us the perspective in which to fully feel joy. And it is necessary," the snow rabbit, whispered, "to keep us from staying stagnant. Through struggle, we are more. So," he said, taking a deep breath, "I may carry scars beneath my pelt, on my skin and in my heart ... but I take comfort in knowing that God uses those scars to mold me into something greater. One day, in heaven, I will understand everything. It will become, in a single moment, crystal clear. Holy revelation. In the direct face of His light. I long for that day ... "

Deering's eyes watered. A sniffle, and a nod, closing his eyes and biting his lip. "Yeah," was all he could manage, touched by the snow rabbit's words. Knowing exactly what he meant. "I ... I know," he stuttered, tear-drops shaking off his quivering whiskers. Another sniffle, trying to steady his light, shaky breaths.

The snow rabbit, who lacked the ability to cry, felt a sudden alarm at the mouse's tears. He had not meant to distress the poor rodent. So, he aimed to cheer him up, lowering his voice and scooting forward on the couch, closer to Deering's desk. "By the way, I did notice," Russo whispered, "that whenever Audra mentions you by name, her pupils dilate."

"They do?" An innocent, wide-eyed look, sniffling once more. But suddenly perking.

And a definite nod, eye-smiling. "Most certainly. She is attracted to you. I am certain she wishes to breed with you."

A shy, wispy smile. "Yeah?" A pause. "I, uh ... I like her, too. But it's too soon, and we're just dancin' round each other right now, I think." A deep breath, wiping his eyes with his paws. "I mean, it's difficult t'know when to, uh ... y'know," Deering repeated.

"We are merely sentient animals. When it comes to breeding, we hook up quickly. Genetically, we are designed to do so. The sooner you find a breeding partner, the earlier you can reproduce, and the more likely your species will thrive." A pause. "However, you are also correct when you mention 'too soon' ... because when it comes to matters of the heart, science is damned. Science knows nothing. We are so much more than the sum of our genes. It requires a great deal of ... "

" ... balance," Deering supplied, nodding knowingly.

"I was going to say 'wisdom,' but ... 'balance' works, as well." The snow rabbit gave one of those eye-smiles again.

And Deering had to give a shy, muzzle-smile in return.

"When I am faced with conflicting ... urges," the snow rabbit settled on, "or conflicting thoughts, I turn to prayer. I turn to Him. I talk to Him. That Christ may walk with me, and that the Holy Spirit may divinely move me." A pause. "Having received redemption, having been bought for such a price ... I feel a weight lifted from me. There are times when I feel guilt at what I've done, how I've behaved in the past, but ... "

" ... you can't allow the guilt to keep you from living," the mouse supplied. "I know. But it's hard, sometimes, y'know? Sometimes, I ... faith isn't easy. It's not supposed to be. If it were easy, there would be no point."

"Indeed. It discerns the true believers ... from those who would love you and leave you fast. True love, be it with a beautiful femme or with the Creator of the universe, requires faith. And true faith requires lifelong effort."

The mouse nodded, sighing through the nose, somehow feeling a lot better for having had this discussion.

"And faith is helped along by fellowship, as fellowship," the rabbit said, "keeps us accountable in our faith. When we mess up, we need to be told. We need to be confronted. We need to watch out for each other, and when one of us falls ... we need to pick him up." An eye-smile, and, "That leads me to something I had been meaning to ask: obviously, being new here, I belong to no church, and ... I would very much wish to. Can you recommend one?"

"Well, uh ... there's mine. I mean, not 'mine' mine, but ... the one I go to, I mean. It's a small, rural church. About thirty, forty members. You're always welcome to come with me."

"Are you certain?"

"Yeah." A nod and a smile.

"Thank you." A bright eye-smile. "Well, now that I have that settled ... " He looked around. " ... with all of my talking, I have dried out my muzzle. I am in need of a drink. Is there a food processor in here?"

"Yeah. Right there ... "

" ... would you like something?" Russo asked.

"Cheese? And, uh, ice water."

An eye-smile and a nod, as well as some ear-waggles. Saying to the food processor, "Tossed garden salad and carrot juice, chilled. Mild cheddar cheese cubes and ice water."

The computer chirruped, taking a few seconds to process the request. And a hum-thrum, and the food was there.

"I dunno how those things even work," Deering confided, from his swivel-chair.

"I believe it has to do with matter-antimatter replication techniques, mostly involving the engineering of ... "

" ... uh, I'll take your word for it," the mouse interrupted. Any true, detailed explanation of how any complicated piece of technology worked was going to give him a headache.

The snow rabbit, nodding, said, "Well, it synthesizes decent food. It may not entirely match the real thing, but ... it is a useful invention." And he handed the mouse his plate of cheese, as well as his glass of ice water. And then sat back down on the couch, putting his own plate and glass on the coffee-table. "Well, while we nibble on our mid-morning snacks, we still have forty minutes until our briefing starts. Shall we go over the specifics again? To be extra-prepared?"

"Sure. I got Audra's notes right here."

"I have some of my own, as well," the snow rabbit said, lightly waving a computer pad. Which he laid on the coffee table and began to tap with a free paw. "Now, to begin with ... "

Her legs were helplessly spread, like flower petals to the sun. Toasty thighs exposed, foot-paws dangling off the carpeted floor, with her blunt-clawed toes weakly curling and uncurling. Weak, little breaths, the atmosphere of the window-dimmed, door-locked office muggy with need and want, with sweet, sweaty rodent sex.

For his muzzle dipped brightly into her femininity, nuzzling past the petals to reach the essence of it all. Just like how a hummingbird or butterfly would do to that aforementioned, imagined flower. Only he was a creek-bred muskrat. And the petals his lips were now sucking and nibbling belonged to something far more beautiful than a mere flower.

Daisy tensed a bit, her grey fur warm, soft. Her tail flagging excitedly behind her swivel-chair, easily fitting through the 'tail-gap' built into it. "Oh, gosh ... oh," she breathed, so lightly that her words could barely be distinguished, "gosh ... "

Theo, on his knees and shins on the floor, right in front of her chair (which was turned away from the surface of her work-desk), pressed into the heat, nose flaring, sniff-twitching at the close, sensual scent. Lips lightly parted, exhaling hot, moist air, which washed over her exposed flesh.

The squirrel shivered, slumping forward a bit, paws going to her husband's naked shoulders, where her fingers splayed and dug into his rich, earthy-brown pelt.

"Mm ... mm," he went, from the throat, as his muzzle tilted. As his tongue played, pranced about her labia, slobbering down her vulva, wriggling in. Muzzle pushing in. Rodents didn't have the most versatile tongues. When giving muzzle, they had to make use, naturally, of full-muzzle movement. Which meant being slow and steady. Which meant a great deal of finesse. Which meant ...

" ... ah. Ah." Daisy's breath caught. "Ah ... " A whisker-twitching chitter, followed by a heavy sigh. Her naked body squirming a bit in her chair. Her eyes shut. If she didn't know any better, she'd assume her husband was a mouse (as mouses had reputations for giving great muzzle). But, no, he was a soft, furry muskrat, a hot, handsome muskrat. Oh, gosh, she loved muskrats.

Theo licked her vagina, eagerly sticking his tongue-tip into the opening, softly slurping. As best he could. Doing the best he could. And knowing she was liking it. The way she chittered, and the way she gripped his shoulders tighter than before. And if she liked that, she was going to love what came next. As he, nose flaring, body hot and throbbing, sniffed and slid his way up, up. Just a few inches up. To where her little jewel was, that erect, out-of-its-hood nub.

The squirrel's bushy, luxurious tail swished audibly through the air as it moved. Swish, swish. Stop. Flicker-flicker-flicker! She drew in quick, desperate breaths, giving a sensitive, high-pitched chitter-chitter-chit!

His lips, soft and sensual, surrounded her clitoris, sucking softly, tongue pressing, releasing. Pressing. Easing up, and then pressing again, with muzzle going suck-suck. Stop. Suck. Suck-suck. With two fingers easily slipping, sliding into her slick, steamy tunnel, that raw, blood-pink muscle. "Mm... nnh," the muskrat went, hearing how her honey-pot squelched, feeling how it milked his fingers, which were in well past the knuckles, curling up, massaging her upper wall. Massaging as he now ran his tongue-tip in slow, lazy circles around the perimeter of her clitoris. So close to it, but not directly touching it.

A squirrel-bark, with rat-a-tat chitters of pleasure, pleasure. Pleasure, her body seemed to scream! As she was there, awash in it. In the throes of orgasm. Spasms shuddered through her vagina, the sensations spreading through her lower body, to her limbs. Like ripples in a pond, they spread. Full-body tremors, after-shocks of sexual pleasure. That word again: pleasure. It was so difficult to describe. It was satisfaction. It was relief. It was heart-pounding love.

"Mm ... oh," the muskrat panted, rodent nose flaring, tongue lazily licking at the sweet, clear nectar which dribbled out of her. He pumped his fingers in and out a few times before withdrawing them, and then closed his eyes as he sucked on them, getting the juices off. His modest, circumcised penis hanging stiffly between his legs, dripping a few silky beads of pre.

Daisy, eyes weakly open, looked to her husband, in a bit of a daze. A hazy mind-fog. Silently thanking him. Her nose quivering.

The mustkrat, looking back to her, didn't wait for any verbal confirmation. He just smiled tenderly, reading her body language. He knew her well enough. Knew what she wanted. And, sighing, he began to release his musk.

The squirrel softly sniffed the air. Sniff-sniff. "Mm ... " Sniff. "Mm," she went again, weakly, quietly. Beginning to smell it. And it smelled strikingly good to her nose. Relaxing her muscles, making her mind even foggier, putting everything in a pleasure-hugged state.

Theo smiled, giggle-squeaking just a bit. Muskrats didn't release their 'scent' like how skunks did. They didn't spray it. No, with muskrats, the scent was an oil, not a spray. And where skunks had two glands at their tail-base (one for the good scent, one for the bad), muskrats had six glands, spread about the body. When relaxed, they would secrete an oil that would spread across the skin. The countless strands of fur would draw it up into his pelt. So any movement of his body would release a soft waft of 'musk.' And the more his fur was touched and moved, the more 'musk' escaped.

Which was why Daisy was slumped forward in her chair, weakly running her paws around her kneeling husband's neck, across his shoulders, his upper-back, and then back to the front again, to his upper-chest and collar-bones. All through his fur.

And that was, needless to say, a muskrat's 'sexual advantage.' His 'musk.' It all but assured that the 'victim' would breed with you. And, that being the case, it was an advantage that was guarded by actual law. Most scent advantages were. If you sprayed or released your scent in a public place, you could get in serious trouble. Especially if you used it to get sex out of a fur who didn't believe in sex outside of mate-ships. Because, no matter what you believed, the scent was going to overpower it. It was designed to. After all, if couldn't successfully lure others into breeding with you, what would be the point? So, in regards to that, juries didn't take kindly to 'robbing faithful furs of their innocence.'

Now, occasionally, you'd have a case where a skunk or muskrat or such got a little over-eager and bred with their mate in public. Where the scent wasn't meant for other furs, but where other furs indirectly caught whiff of it, anyway. That could cause troubles of its own, and was normally treated a minor misdemeanor if you were caught (and many times, you weren't). You paid a minimum fine.

Each fur's sexual advantage, though, was different. It just so happened that some were more delicate than others. Barbs (felines) and knots (canines, foxes), fangs (bats), enhanced physical agility (squirrels), constant lactation (cows), tails (rats, deer), addictive playfulness (otters), and highly-active sex drives (rabbits), among many, many others, didn't have much involuntary social impact. Those things asserted themselves in private, when breeding was likely to take place anyway. They couldn't be used, necessarily, to unwillingly trick random furs into sex. Whereas things like scents (muskrats, skunks) and siren-like songs (certain songbirds) definitely could. A bat's telepathy, though, was a muddled matter. Telepathy wasn't a tangible thing, so there was little detectable evidence when it was being used for sexual gain.

It had also been argued, by some, that mouses, with their irresistible cuteness, be subject to societal restrictions as well. But the suggestions were consistently scorned and rejected. For one, 'cuteness' wasn't something a mouse could turn on and off. It wasn't willingly released with any particular intent. It was a constant. Mouses were just eternally cute. In order to curb the cuteness, you'd have to get rid of the mouses, and that obviously couldn't happen. Also, mouses tended to be very submissive. It was almost never heard of that a mouse would use his cuteness for sinister purposes (and in the rare event that it did happen, much shock and alarm filled the media, with over-the-top, front page headlines like 'Cuteness Kills!').

In the end of it, furs were extremely sexual creatures. And, in a way, all competing against each other for prospective mates. The fact that furs would use their biology to their advantages, to one-up each other, was widely-known. Every-fur did it. And a bit of unfair play had to be tolerated. It was impossible to regulate such behavior. And, so, it all came down to the extent and intent of each individual's actions.

And Theo would certainly never do anything to trick or hurt Daisy. They'd been married three months, and he loved her just as much as when they'd slipped those mating rings on each other's fingers. As far as his 'musk' went, he enjoyed using it to give her pleasure. How much pleasure it got him in return wasn't his primary motivation (though he'd be lying if he said it wasn't a factor).

The squirrel, sniff-sniffing the air, smiled almost drunkenly, slipping out of her swivel-chair, body so, so relaxed. The scent was putting her in such state. Everything felt nice. Breathing, moving, swishing her tail. Everything, yes, felt nice, and everything made her want to have sex with him. The way he looked at her, the way his chest rose and fell. She flopped onto her back on the carpeted floor, knees bent, legs raising up a bit, thighs falling apart. The scent. Oh, the scent.

Theo gave a happy squeak, bare, breathing body slipping atop the squirrel's, chest and belly-fur mingling with her breast and belly-fur, meshing, scents mixing. He kissed her neck. Soft, pecking kisses, panting eagerly as he roved up to her chin.

Her lips parted, drawing air.

And his own lips slid, brushing hers, so soft and damp, meeting full-on. A long, lingering kiss, sharing so intimately each other's tastes. Each other's very breaths. Until their lips had to part (barely) to breathe. Panting, exhales washing over each other's twitching whiskers, whiskers brushing, noses touching. Lips back together, muzzles tilting as they kissed without a care on the floor of Daisy's dimmed, private office.

"Mm. Hnn ... " The grey squirrel began to wrap her limbs around her husband's sturdy form. She, at twenty-four, was two years older than him. And she was a lot more agile. Squirrels, after all, were born to be good in trees. Arboreal acrobats. She could twist and turn and move in ways that could literally blow the muskrat's mind. Before marrying her, Theo hadn't fathomed there could be so many different ways to breed. Oh, gosh, the positions she could get into! She was like a living, breathing 'how to' manual.

" ... oh, oh d-darling," the muskrat breathed, pressing forward, the tip of his penis poking into her. That initial blast of heat. That initial shock of steamy, enveloping goodness. That initial breath, initial thrust. Oh, the first seconds of penetration. "Oh ..." His modest member easily slipped in, to the hilt, tufted, furry sac tightening, nestling to her steamy, pouting vulva. "Uh ... " A weak sound, a weak pull-back, and a shaky, gentle hump. "Hnn." He caught his breath, and then sighed. "Oh ... "

Her squirrelly body wriggled beneath his own, hips gyrating back at him, tail swishing and flagging all about the carpet. She was in a nice, hot, dreamy frame of mind, and though she knew she could have him in any position she wanted (and, as Theo knew, she was extremely agile), she was content (this time; maybe not next time!) to be the bottom of this missionary act. Sometimes, you just wanted to be belly-to-belly, muzzle-to-muzzle. Eyes and lips so extremely close. Sometimes, you just wanted simplicity out of sex. Simple body-to-body and face-to-face. Oh, yes. Oh, simple. Oh, sometimes, you just wanted to hitch to your mate like he was a tree. And let him take care of you. So, that's what Daisy did, with her arms and legs securely wrapped around her husband, laying on the floor, chittering weakly, letting him pace their love-making. Her hips stopped gyrating, and she just held on.

Theo felt a rising sense of urgent bliss. It was always this way: he wanted to be inside her more than anything. And, once he got inside, he wanted to move his muskrat-hood back and forth, in and out. He wanted that friction. And as he got that friction, he would always want more friction. And he would begin to tingle and huff, and he'd feel something approaching, something big and wonderful. And the only way to get to it was to hump more, hump more eagerly. The road to climax was one of ballooning desire. Until, when you finally got there, the balloon popped and you breathed of the rarified, glorious air of release.

A squeaky, little cry from the grey squirrel, head lolling to the side, muzzle open, forehead-fur damp with sweat. The rest of her fur matted, and her well-groomed, extremely-luxurious tail looking a bit weathered from the heat and fluid. "Ah ... uhh!" Soft, muted squeaks, shiver-shaking, whiskers quivering to their tips. As she had her second orgasm.

The muskrat, naked and huff-squeaking atop of her, sucking on the side of her turned neck, gave a little grunt. A sloppy hilt. His tail whipping around as if it was steering him through water. "Uh ... uhn, nnn ... hnm. Uh, uh," he moaned, penis jerking with ejaculations. Muskrat seed splashing his wife's womb, spurting into her. "Mm ... " His sounds more numerous, now, at orgasm, but not loud or crude. Soft, huffing noises, squeaking close to one of her angular, cocked squirrel-ear.

A heavy sigh from Daisy, her paws gripping his shoulder-blades.

And, from Theo, deep breaths through his nose. Deep, shaky breaths, which soon became smaller, more manageable breaths. Body flushed beneath the fur. As hers was. Both of them wonderfully weary, sweetly sated. Their breeding drives re-set. She'd been sown, and he'd sowed (though Daisy was not currently in heat). They'd be good for another six/seven hours before they'd peak again, both of them being rodents. Both of them in synch with each other (in contrast, rabbits would peak every four/five hours; hence the expression 'breeding like rabbits').

But biology was hardly on their minds at the moment. And was hardly their greater reason for having done this. Oh, no, it was love. They were very much in love. And that love, in turn, given context and meaning by their faith. Both of them attracted to each other's minds and souls, as well as bodies. Their personalities such a good match. She was bright, friendly, full of energy. He was simple, low-key, with a good sense of humor. She was a squirrel representative of the Federation Council. He was the head secretary of the rodent branch of the Council, coordinating messages and documents back and forth between different rodent offices (the mouse offices, squirrel offices, chipmunk offices, porcupine offices, et cetera). So, they both spent a lot of time at work. Normally, they only got Sundays off.

They'd met in a hallway, once, when Daisy had been carrying too many computer pads. She'd been late for a meeting, and she'd dropped some of the pads. She'd squeaked with anxiety, and he saw her. And went and helped her. And, then, after her meeting, she'd tracked him down to thank him. Which had led to having supper. Which had led to romance. Which had led to this.

"That felt," Daisy breathed, recovered from her scent-induced, sex-addled high, "so good ... Theo," she managed. "Oh, t-that ... " She trailed, sighing through the nose. " ... that was lovely." She beamed in afterglow.

The muskrat nuzzled her neck with his nose, gently kissing her cheek. "It felt good for me, too," he assured, his tone perky and happy, whispering, " ... mm ... spectacular. Is the right word." A grin, nibbling on her cheek with his lips. "Mm," was his squeaky sound, as he finally pulled his hips back, shrinking member flopping out of her.

A sigh from her, smiling softly, eyes fully open, now. "That's gonna make a mess on the carpet," she said.

He glanced down their bodies a bit, seeing that the excess seed he'd sown in her was trickling, in little, cream-colored rivulets, out of her femininity, dripping from her petal-lips. Pooling on the carpet. "Good thing," Theo said, turning his head back to hers, "it's stain-proof." A little chitter-chuckle. It was true that almost every piece of fabric produced by furs (fabric on couches, chairs, clothing, as well as carpets, sheets, et cetera) was designed to be stain-proof. For this very reason.

"We still gotta wipe it up, though," was Daisy's response.

"Just like we gotta clean each other up," Theo said, nosing her. "Mm." Another kiss to her cheek. "We gotta shower," he whispered. "I gotta get back to work soon."

"So do I," she breathed, lingering beneath him. Making no move to get up.

After a moment, the muskrat breathed, "I don't wanna leave you ... I wanna just cancel everything about this day. Everything except you. And just ... you know?" he breathed, sincerely, seriously.

The squirrel nodded, hugging him. "I do," she breathed, eyes closed. "I know."

"I love you ... " The words were so very close to her ear. But they went right to her heart.

"I love you, too." She opened her eyes, smiling. And saying, "We really gotta get up and clean and ... "

" ... mm." A nod, and a breath, and he slid off her body, stretching. "Nn!" he went, as he stretched. A squeak as he sighed and relaxed. "Come on. I'll clean up the carpet, and you get the shower ready. Get the water warm," he said.

" ... 'kay," the squirrel said, standing, her naked, agile form brushing past him. And she giggled as her husband gripped her rump. "Mm. You had your chance to do that before. You can't get all friendly with my rump now."

"But I like your rump. And I was busy with other things before," he said, as a means of excuse, his fingers softly running through the rump-cheek fur, up to her tail, where he gently took that big, bushy tail with both paws and held it close, burying his nose in it. He loved doing that. Burying his nose in her fluffy, furry tail and just breathing in deep.

She closed her eyes. "Darling ... "

" ... I know, I know." A sigh, as he let go. "We gotta get back into work-mode. We got jobs to do."

"We'll meet back here," she breathed, "later? Around 4?" It was just after 10, right now. They would each lunch with their respective staffs, not with each other. "Yeah?"

"Definitely yes," Theo said, sincerely, taking one of her paws and squeezing it. Before letting go, moving to grab a towel to clean up the carpet with. As she padded into the bathroom built into her office, starting the water.

" ... and, uh, as the, uh ... well, to summarize," Deering said, whiskers twitching non-stop, taking short, shy breaths through his muzzle. "To summarize, a renewed alliance with the snow rabbits, the High Command ... would be nothin' but beneficial to the Furry Federation." His eyes darted down to the computer pad in his paw, and then back to the members of the security committee, who were seated at their rectangular table. The mouse, himself, standing at the head of it. He was a bit nervous. He wasn't used to giving speeches.

A chipmunk raised her paw.

"Uh ... yes?"

"You've mentioned all the benefits, but there's still the problem of distance. They're allies, but our borders are two weeks apart. Our capital to theirs ... three weeks. Why not pour our time and energy into finding closer allies?"

Deering bit his lip and looked to Russo, who was sitting a few feet away.

The snow rabbit nodded, clearing his throat and turning his gaze to the committee, paws folded and posture prim and proper. Voice soothing and controlled. "The Furry Federation and the snow rabbit High Command have a history. A past. One of friendship and cooperation. Striking a new treaty would be less time-consuming because of this. It's the difference between renewing a friendship and starting one from scratch. And, besides, whether anyone in this room likes the fact or not: my species is the major power in this quadrant. The Federation has been relegated to second-class. If you hope to regain stature? Then you must ally with those who have it. We have it. You don't. Therefore, it's only logical that you would attempt to reap the benefits of our success ... by entering into a mutual agreement with us."

The chipmunk who'd asked the question nodded thoughtfully, tapping at a computer pad. "Thank you," she said, bowing her brown-striped head, whiskers twitching with energy.

Russo nodded back at her, looking back to Deering. He gave his new, mousey friend an encouraging eye-smile, whispering, "Continue."

Deering took a deep breath, clearing his throat and continuing, in his shy, effeminate voice, "Aside from sharing of intelligence reports, deep-space scans, scientific finds, et cetera, there's, uh ... also the advantage of cultural exchange. We can learn from each other, and as good friends do," he said, "show each other where we're going wrong ... and, through fellowship, keep each other accountable." He'd added that part in himself, after his earlier discussion with Russo.

The snow rabbit, knowing this, eye-smiled.

"Had we, the Federation, listened to the snow rabbit or turned to them for help ... during our, uh, time of crises. Times," the mouse corrected himself, "of crisis, for there were many. Had we trusted them, we might've avoided further chaos. They can help us. We can help them. Both sides have recent histories which are ... full of strife. Conflicts, unrest, wars. They came out of it stronger. Purified like a diamond. We came out of it bleeding, and we're still bleeding ... "

" ... excuse me, mouse," said Astrid, speaking for the first time. She was one of the predators on the security committee. She hadn't spoken to this point because of Russo. They'd locked eyes when the snow rabbit had first entered the room. The jaguar hadn't exactly told the snow rabbit that she would be at this meeting. And, though they were still only acquaintances, the snow rabbit felt a bit hurt. In retrospect, he realized that, even though the jaguar had failed to seduce and coerce him, she had succeeded on another level: analyzing his skills of debate. Which would give her an easier time when it came to counter-arguing. But the jaguar, surprisingly, hadn't taken advantage of her brief knowledge of the snow rabbit's demeanor. Hadn't cut him down with arguments.

"Yes?" Deering asked, eyes widening.

The jaguar took a breath, eyes darting to Russo, and then back to Deering. That rabbit still intrigued her. She felt, for lack of a better word, hesitant. She didn't want to say anything that would greatly upset him. She still hoped to be able to breed with him. "It simply seems like you're saying that the High Command is more ... noble," she settled on, "than we are. That they are better."

"I'm not sayin' that. I'm, uh ... sayin' that they wound up in a better position."

"Because they are better?"

"Because that's just ... " A sigh. " ... that's just how things panned out. I'm just sayin' that if we'd stayed friends, things might've been better all around. It's, uh ... for the future," Deering said, not meeting the jaguar's gaze. Instead, looking to the prey at the table. The predators made his knees wobble. "In the future, we don't wanna find ourselves in a situation where we have no friends. The humans come again. The wasps. And who do we turn to for help? I'm sayin' ... that during the war with the wasps, the snow rabbits fought alone. We didn't send any help. They paid a price for that."

Some frowns and whisker-twitches. A few nods.

"If the wasps come again, but attack us? If they come after us first? And if we asked the snow rabbits for help, and they said no? If they treated us like we treated them? No one in this room would be happy about that." He briefly looked back to Astrid. "I'm not sayin', miss, that we're bad, or they're better ... I'm a Federation citizen. Of course, I love my home, and I'm proud of it, but ... if we want to be a power in this quadrant, we have to behave like one. And that means doin' unto others as we would have them do unto us. That means cooperation. That means we need to renew a treaty between us and the snow rabbits."

Astrid squinted her eyes, but said nothing. Just nodded lightly, tapping some things on her own computer pad.

And, Deering, blowing out a breath, paused for a moment, before continuing, "Aside from security benefits, cultural exchanges, information exchange ... there's also trade. Their space is different from ours. Certainly their home-world is. We each have goods, in terms of food, alcohol, technology ... unique to our homes that we can trade and barter with. Economically, it would be a benefit. Also, tourism. And, uh ... other things. And ... "

... the door swished open, and Audra poked her head in, twitching apologetically, nodding to everyone and quietly taking a seat.

Deering's heart pounded a bit faster. He'd thought he was gonna get through this without her showing up. Which had been, on some level, a relief. While he wanted to see her and wanted her support, her presence was, to his senses, a little bit distracting. Thoughts of warm nuzzles and squeaky hugs and romantic fantasies of breeding began to creep into the back of his mind. "Uh ... okay, um, to wrap up, though, is what I'm sayin' ... what I'm sayin'," he corrected, saying a quick prayer in his head. 'Lord, please, get me through this. Don't let me fall to pieces.' "Regardless of how you look at it, there are, uh, countless benefits to a renewed treaty, a revised treaty. A new friendship," the mouse said, gaining traction a bit, "with the snow rabbits." A stabilizing breath. "There is absolutely no benefit I can think of to not," he stressed, "forming a relationship with them.

"I know you all have quibbles and concerns, but most of those involve little, tiny details, rights-of-way, et cetera, and those can be worked out with the treaty-writers. Your concerns are with the language, the priority of certain issues ... but I don't think they're with the notion of becoming allies itself." A pause to collect himself once more, and to relax a bit. "So, as initiated by the mouse offices in the rodent branch of the Council, I hereby move to motion that we vote on becoming allies with the High Command once more. And, uh ... "

A look to Audra, and then back to the committee members. " ... uh, if that vote clears this committee, it'll go before the whole Council. I expect it would easily pass, and once that's underway ... I'm sure we'll see the benefits quite soon. Let's try to work for a greater peace and understanding in our region of space. That we may have such friends as the snow rabbits, who have sent a representative here in good kindness ... despite how we've treated them in the past. It's an example to follow. And it's just rather, uh, logical."

This made Russo eye-smile with mirth, with waggle-ears waggling.

A twitchy pause from Deering, finishing, "Also, I think, for any of us who want children, we would want that for their future. A stable society. And to stabilize, we need help. We can't it do it ourselves. The snow rabbits recognize this. And I know we're just as smart and capable as them, so ... we should recognize it, too. Uh ... uh, thank you," he said, nodding, and taking a seat.

Audra flashed Deering a big, twitchy smile.

And the chair of the security committee, a rather bulky moose, rapped a hoofed hand on the large tabletop. "Any further questions for the mouse?"

No one had any. He'd already been asked dozens of questions from the start of his presentation to the finish. And his responses had been given, as Audra had coached, all 'cute and squeakily.' So, even if all the furs at the table hadn't agreed with his responses, no one felt compelled to cynically argue with him. Not all that much, anyway. How could you argue with something so cute? You couldn't be mad at something that cute!

The effect had been, to Deering, remarkable. He'd never had an audience like this. And to see how they gave him little, enchanted smiles. Like his very presence made them happy. Of course, most of the predators just glared in that serious, steely way, betraying nothing. If they were at all affected by the mouse's adorable nature, they didn't show it.

The moose, seeing nothing further to address, turned his antlered head and said, "We'll vote on the matter. Voting is closed-doors, however, and non-committee members will need to leave."

"Understood, sir," Audra said properly, as matter of protocol. And she slipped out of her chair, Deering closely behind her. And Russo bringing up the tail of the group.

When they were out in the hallway, far enough away from the door, Deering sighed. "How did I do?" he asked, hopefully.

"He did," Russo said, looking to Audra, "remarkably well for a first-timer."

Audra looked from the snow rabbit to the deer mouse, smiling. "I knew you could do it. Now, we'll have to work on your presentation skills. You stuttered a lot and looked at your notes too much ... I know you're fighting that natural mousey anxiety, but I can teach you tricks to get through it. Otherwise, from what I saw, you did fine. You convinced them, anyway."

"They didn't need much convincing," Deering said, modestly. "I mean, it's a no-brainer to want a new treaty. Anyone could've given them the presentation, an' they still would've voted for it."

"Don't be that hard on yourself," Audra whispered, putting her lips to his cheek. And giving him a soft, tender kiss. Her whiskers brushing against his as she pulled her head back. "Alright? You did fine. And, remember, you weren't trained for this job ... you were brought in cause the predators thought you'd be incompetent. But you're not, and I'm with you on everything, okay?"

Deering finally relented, sighing, smiling. "Okay," he said, brightly.

"He was, also, may I add," Russo said, "quite cute."

"The cuteness factor, huh? It worked?" Audra asked, giggle-squeaking.

"It did," the snow rabbit said, nodding.

Deering just flushed at this, his ears going a bit rosy-pink. Looking to his new snow rabbit friend and nodding with gratitude.

Russo nodded back, very politely, saying, "It looks like I will be stationed here permanently. As an ambassador and liaison. After all, not to rain on any-fur's parade, but a relationship between our two governments, regardless of a treaty ... will still be extremely complicated. Will still have several sources of tension."

Audra sighed, whiskers twitching. "I know ... it's not gonna be smooth sailing. But at least we're opening the door for each other. Instead of locking each other out. That's a start."

A nod from Russo. "It is, indeed." And his ears twiddled as the briefing room door swished open, the members emerging, chattering amongst themselves. Lots of bare foot-paws shuffling past on the carpet. A few hooves and such.

Astrid was the last one to leave the room, moving slowly, lazily. As felines do.

Russo tensed, telling his mouse friends, "I will you see you later?"

"Yeah, I was gonna go get a snack in my office, read the latest news reports, check if there's anything I need to address," Audra said. And she gave a quiet, little look to Deering. "You wanna come? For, uh ... for snacks? Are you hungry?"

"Sure," he replied, almost too eagerly. With a definite squeak in his voice.

Audra had to smile at this. But she held back any giggle-squeaks. "Alright. Come on, then. Later, Russo ... "

" ... yes," was all the snow rabbit said, attention fixated on Astrid, who was waiting for the mouses to leave.

Deering, trailing Audra, remaining stationary for a moment, asked Russo, "You gonna be okay?"

"I shall be fine. Do not worry." A soft eye-smile, and a head-nod. "Go and your enjoy yourself. I have a feeling she might be ready to mate," he said, of Audra.

"What makes you think that?" Deering asked, ears getting hot.

"She is inviting you to her office for 'snacks' ... of course, I am a snow rabbit, and I think about sex even more than you do, so I may be reading too much into it," was his honest disclaimer. "So, do not take my word for it. But she is clearly very happy with you right now. You did very well in the meeting."

"Thank you," the mouse whispered, wanting to give his friend a big, squeaky hug. But, seeing Astrid glaring in their general direction, decided against it. Just swallowed and ...

" ... Deering?" Audra called from the end of the hall. "You coming?"

"Yes ... " And he scurried after her, heart hammering in his creamy-white chest, his buttery-tan fur on the rest of his body warm and soft and tingling with uncertainty.

Which left only Russo and Astrid in the hallway.

"You are a good speaker. I knew that from last night, but ... your logic is even more compelling in a political setting," the jaguar said, padding forward. Her strong, bare foot-paws making soft, swooshing sounds on the carpet. Her pelt accentuated with those spots of hers. And the creamy orange. She was wearing, as she always did, a dress. She was extremely graceful and powerful. A dress best showed that. And she looked marvelous in it, besides.

"I did not know you were going to be in this meeting. I did not know," Russo said simply, "you were on the security committee. Last night, I was only half-right. You were sent to seduce me. But you were also sent to scout me."

"I wasn't trying to dupe you. I assumed you knew. I assumed your ... " A head-tilt. " ... logic led you to that deduction."

The snow rabbit sighed through his coal-black nose, his pure-white fur soft and reflecting the overhead light. He almost seemed to shine, if you looked at him right. "It is no matter. You did not attack me or rip my arguments in half."

"Had they been bad arguments, I wouldn't have hesitated to do so. They simply happened to be good ones ... and therefore," she breathed, "required little criticism or comment."

"Is that a compliment?"

"It's as close as you're going to get. For the moment, at least," she said, looking around. Almost paranoid. Her eyes squinting, angular ears swiveling atop her head.

"Is something wrong?"

"Nothing," she muttered. A sigh. She was, truth be told, worried about Sylvan. If he found out she was being genuinely friendly to Russo, he would use the information to discredit her with the other predators. Would paint them a picture of her being 'soft on prey.' And if the L-word ('love') was put into the tale, then she'd probably lose her job. The predators wanted compatriots on the Council. Furs who would back them up, work for them. And Astrid did work for them. Bred around, engaged in shows of dominance, kept her emotions an enigma, participated in power plays. She did as all good feline did. But if she stopped doing that ...

"If your duty to your species is more important than your interest in me ... that is," the snow rabbit whispered, "understandable. I would expect nothing less."

"I'm tired," Astrid responded, "of furs expecting 'nothing less' of me ... some felines, they play their parts so well, they become clichés. They sell their souls for the sake of appearances."

"I do not think you are a cliché," Russo whispered, drawing a step nearer to her. "As for your soul? As long as you have breath, it is never too late for redemption." A pause. "You intrigue me." His voice was barely audible.

And her voice, equally hushed, came back with, "You intrigue me, as well." There was a brief flash of vulnerability in her voice. She saw something in the snow rabbit, some deep sense of duty and purpose, logic and faith. Some mixture of so many things that she, herself, didn't have a full grasp of. "I should like to have dinner again?" It came out as a question.

"As would I. This evening? In the cafeteria?"

A light, eye-darting nod. "Very well."

"How lovely," was the snow rabbit's response, an eye-smile included. "Shall I pick you up at your office?"

"No." A shake of the head. "No, just meet me in the cafeteria." Her office was next to Sylvan's, and she didn't want him to see. Damn cougar. He had some kind of twisted, charismatic pull over her. They were of equal stature in the Council, having served here for roughly the same amount of time. And yet he lorded over her. Gave her 'tasks.' She wasn't ashamed to admit she was intimidated by him. He was a big male cat. He was built to intimidate.

"Well, I shall go. I need to acquire a permanent office," the snow rabbit said, straightening his posture.

"And I must go confer with the feline offices. I'm sure they'll want to draft potential 'inserts' into the new treaty ... whether or not the prey will allow them to be slipped in is another matter, but the felines will try. We are very," she breathed, "sly."

"I thought that was foxes," the snow rabbit whispered, almost sensuously.

"They stole it from us," was all Astrid said, showing her teeth. Giving a big cat-grin.

Russo, at the show of teeth, felt a twinge of prey anxiety. He jerked a bit.

And, so, Astrid closed her muzzle. She honestly hadn't meant to scare him. She just nodded once more, purring sensously for him as she brushed past, her scent wafting in the air. And she disappeared around the end of the hallway.

And Russo took a deep, shivery breath, pupils dilated and bobtail flickering uncontrollably. She might be more trouble than she's worth, Russo, he told himself. Perhaps. But there's only one way to find out for sure. And, after blinking several times, he looked around and smoothed his clothing. Then set off to get himself an office.