Wolf Shorts
Uh oh. Tony's spotted Peter again. Which one is in trouble this time? No-yiff, 1065 words.
So, yena is currently in a creative writing class (Yay!), and in the first few days has been reminded of the idea of a 'short story' (to think!). For some reason, my writing habits have tended from medium-length to running on and on, even though I stopped thinking of myself as a novelist long ago, so I sat down today to spend an hour trying to regain control over my work. Hopefully this will be the first of quite a bit of new material as a result of this class I'm taking.
"Hey Petey!" His black boots thudded against the tile with an increasing tempo. "Hey Peeeeetey!"
The small rat's face flashed for a moment over his shoulder, a sunrise of anxiety. He took off through the crowd, but Tony couldn't have asked for a better setting: this hallway dead-ended in the stairs down to the locker rooms, and there was no way Peter Summers would flee directly into the lion's den.
The rodent seemed to realize this as he came to the railing; he drifted to a stop, and then spun around, casting about for a teacher or, even better an assistant principal. Tony let his frantic eyejerks serve as a radar.
Clear skies today.
"What's up, Peeeeetey?" the big wolf cooed, cornering his prey.
He watched that pointed face travel up, up and up, from his combat boots to his dark gray jeans to his leather jacket, zipped halfway to reveal a white A-shirt and lots of brownish-gray chestfur, paws buried in the jacket pockets, a smug grin filled with fangs and plastered onto his sour, pinched face.
"L-leave me alone, Tony!" he said, as bravely as he could; both his skinny arms were wrapped around his binder, pressing it against his red polo. People were taking notice of the altercation, but those who did not push past them stood by to watch, surreptitiously. There was a big jock, a couple girls with phones, a tall goth with headphones and a black trenchcoat.
Tony gave the rat a little push, watching him stumble backward with ill-concealed glee. "Aww, why you say that, Peeeeeetey?" He gave the rat a swat on the side of the nose, making him jerk to the right with a little eep. Tony's other paw was waiting on that side, and swatted it back. "Aren't we friends?" His paw shot up and tweaked the rat's ear. Squeeeak!
"S-shut up! Let me go!" He tried to dodge around the wolf, but Tony scared him off that route by showing his claws with a little flex of his pawdigits.
"Aww, Petey, don't be like that," the wolf said, edging a bit to the side to try and get a grip on the rat's arm. Couple uncles and he'd let the nerd go, honest; he only needed a little fix.
"Quit calling me that!" the rat spat, and lunged to the side, toward freedom. Tony moved to intercept him, but the combination of their shifting legs only managed to trip the rat, who reached out to grab the wolf's intruding knee reflexively. Peter hit the floor with a gasp, sprawling, and Tony only barely managed to catch his balance, paws thrown up against the wall.
Then he realized the rat's paws were still clinging to his jeans, which were now situated around his ankles.
He could hear the girls nearby giggling, and had to fight back a blush. The rat responsible for his lack of attire opened the eyes he'd squeezed shut, and his gaze grew horrified as the wolf fixed him with a murderous look.
"So this what you want, fag?" Tony snarled, standing nonplussed in his blue plaid boxers.
"N-no, I - Ow!" Peter yelped, as the wolf kicked him awkwardly, ankles bound together. The wolf glanced up, down the hall. Check for teachers, try to think how best to recover his dignity and get his revenge on the little snot -
Tony yelped as Peter lunged upward at him, and stumbled backward against the railing above the stairs. He felt a sudden draft. The rat slumped down at his feet with a victorious huff, blue plaid bunched up in his paws.
Gales of feminine laughter mixed with the rising tide of jockish cackles. Tony cracked his eyes open and cringed, seeing just how many people had formed a circle around their conflict.
The wolf tried to muster a roar, or at least a snarl. A 'You'll pay for that, you little fucker!' Something.
Peter was blushing and... grinning.
People were clapping.
Tony's face was burning. Peter scrambled away and took off running, earning some cheers, and Tony lost his balance and slumped halfway to the floor. He tried to climb to his feet, hampered by his awkward position, by the tangle of clothes around his legs, by a futile desire to avoid showing his junk to the entire school.
"Hey," came a deep voice, and there was someone tall standing over him. It was the goth guy, a badger, one earbud now out of its matching ear. He lowered a paw, hauling the wolf to his feet brusquely. His trenchcoat was unbuttoned; he gripped the sides. "Back against the wall, buddy, I'll give you some privacy."
The helpless wolf mostly tripped his way against the wall, and this stranger stood in front of him, holding the sides of his trenchcoat out to touch the painted cinderblock on either side. Tony ducked down, ostensibly to straighten out his tangled clothes, and wiped his eyes with two furious jerks of his paw. Panic reflex.
Boxers up over his skinny thighs with awkward jerking tugs.Thread the tail back through properly, had to unbutton his pants to get them back up. It was a tight space; he had to sort of 'cower' to avoid rubbing his face against the other guy's stomach, and this area of wall would definitely smell more wolfish for a while. He glanced up anxiously, and saw the badger was looking off to the side.
He could still hear people laughing, but things seemed to be quieting down outside his shelter. With a gulp, Tony hastily pulled his pants up, cringing a little as his boxers bunched up in his crotch. He stuffed a paw down and straightened everything out, zipped, buttoned.
Peeked over the top of the guy's trenchcoat.
Safe enough. The badger glanced at him. "You good now?"
Gulp. "Yeah."
Goth Dude stepped back and buttoned his trenchcoat again. Tony looked around, blushing, trying to turn his inner humiliation into outer hostility... but there was no one interested in his glares anymore.
"Uh... thanks, dude," he said, grudgingly.
"No problem." Then, the badger fixed him with a hard, clear-eyed look.
"If you quit being a fucking douchebag, people will help you more often."
Tony sputtered, finding his anger once again.
"See ya 'round," the badger said dismissively, giving him a slap on the shoulder. Tony shrugged it off with a snarl.
Lots of fun with motivations and "Villian, hero, or anti-hero?" in this, heheh. I'll leave it up to you to decide. Hope you guys enjoyed.