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Kris felt trepidation as he stood outside Mr Black Wolf's office. Today he was going to tell the wolf about Duke. At least that was the plan. But the plan kept changing. He'd work up his nerve to tell the wolf, and then when he got inside that office and all calm, he'd go and talk about Sean and his Dad and Mom. He had to stay firm today. Duke was... he was getting more... He had to tell someone who would know better how he should handle the situation.

The door opened and a first year chipmunk walked out. "That's fine, Simon, we can change your time to earlier in the day so that you won't keep missing Math class," the older wolf said as he lifted his paw from the tall thin boy's shoulder.

Simon adjusted his glasses and smiled at the wolf. "Thanks, Mr Black Wolf! I'll see you next week then?" He nodded to Kris then disappeared up the hallway into the crowd of students.

"Kris, perfect timing, come on in." The wolf stepped back a little and gestured for the raccoon to join him in the office.

Kris went in and settled in his usual spot on the comfortable chair, but this time he didn't stretch out; this time, he kept his arms wrapped around his chest and his feet tucked under the edge of the chair.

"Well, Kris..." the wolf started as he turned around, but as he noticed the boy's posture he changed what he was about to say and sat quietly for a few moments. Usually, it took a while for Kris to open up, to say what was on his mind, so the old wolf just waited patiently while the boy rocked back and forth in his chair. The therapist always associated the motion with various expressions of autism, but it showed up often as a symptom of distress, of something that caused the client pain to think about. A coping mechanism. It seemed as if he was fighting with himself about something.

Nearly ten minutes went by while the old wolf waited. Finally, Kris looked up with tears streaming down his cheeks and whispered, "I don't know what to do about him."

The anguish in the boy's voice was palpable, and it pulled at the wolf's heart strings making him want to howl the pain away, but he held onto his professional demeanor. "Who?" It could be as simple as a school boy crush; in fact, that wouldn't surprise Tristan in the least. The way the boy talked about his coach, he was surprised that this hadn't happened sooner.

"Duke!" The fear, anger, and pure hatred in that one word sent shivers down Tristan's spine. But the kit wasn't finished yet. "He scares me! He keeps getting all up in my space and pushing me around and making me do things I don't want to do. All cause he saw those messages Sean sent me. He was watching that day that I was touching myself for Sean on the cam. I just don't know what to do about him! I tried..." He broke down into a sob for a moment then choked out, "I even tried to... but he... he... " The words ended as the boy curled in on himself sobbing brokenly.

Tristan was speechless. Sure, he'd heard some rough stuff from the raccoon, but this... There was a note of desperation in the boy's hurried words, something that touched upon training he'd taken for before he agreed to take this position. "Slow down, Kris; take deep breaths. Calm yourself." He moved from his place at his desk toward the boy slipping an arm around his shoulders. "Take slow breaths, come on, inhale slowly." The boy took a slow breath in. "That's it, now hold it... good, okay, let it out slowly, count to three as you do." He watched as Kris slowly let the breath he'd been holding out.

Tristan nodded slowly. "Good. Feeling a little better?" He was glad the kit could nod, if only a little bit. "Okay, let's go back a little. I think I remember who Duke is. You said he's your dad's business partner, right?"

Kris snuffled a little, nodding quickly, but he said anything further.

There were a few times that Kris had mentioned a "Duke"; if it was the same one, then the fur was also a part of that horrible incident at the gym. It's rare when so many points in any person's life don't touch in one way or another.

"Kris, you said something a moment ago. You said that Duke was pushing you around." He'd said a helluva lot more, enough for the wolf's fur to stand on end, but he couldn't go there too quickly. "What did you mean by that?"

The boy sniffled a little and swallowed hard before he could speak again. "He... ummm... makes me sit and watch the stupid sports shows with him and Dad. I know it doesn't sound like much but... it's the way he says things, and how he looks at me... Oh, I knew this wasn't going to make any sense!" For a few moments the wolf was afraid that his charge was going to break down in uncontrollable tears again.

"He makes you feel... how, Kris? You said there was something about the way he looked at you, and how he talks to you?" The kit's breathing was still quick, but he didn't get out of the chair to pace or run away. Tristan counted that as a good sign. Whatever was going on in the kit's head -- and every bit of the counselor's training and gut instinct threw up every possible red flag in the book -- it seemed that at least the poor 'coon was trying to find some way to tell someone. Tristan couldn't act on gut feelings, no matter how loudly the clues screamed at him; Kris had to say the right words. And, on the off chance that Tristan was wrong, he couldn't coerce the words out of the kit.

"Tell me, Kris, what is it that you're feeling?"

"Scared..." He trailed off and rubbed his arms with his paws. Tristan had never seen him look so young before, young and afraid. But before the wolf could ask another question or repeat the one he had only a partial answer to, Kris went on. "He's big, like really big. He'll do things like corner me in the kitchen so I can't get out without brushing past him and actually touching him. It... kinda creeps me out."

"All up in your space, as you put it." The wolf nodded, tried to play down the term a bit. "There really is a serious concept about personal space. I could tell you about experiments with rats, or about living conditions among humans back in the day -- we all have that sense of wanting a little space around us. And Duke is getting into that space with you, is that it? And Kris, I know this is going to sound like a really stupid kind of question, but have you said anything to him or your dad about it?"

Kris sat upright with a startled squeak and looked at the old wolf. "No! And you can't either! God, if Dad knew..." He shuddered violently and shook his head.

Tristan put up a forepaw gently. "Nothing we talk about here leaves this room, Kris. That's a given. No one can make me tell anything." So okay, the old wolf thought, certain legal conditions aside, but no sense trying to explain all that here. "I'm serious, though. I'm guessing that this is happening at your home, since I don't think you go to your Dad's office... so things are happening in your home that make you uncomfortable. Home is a place where you're supposed to feel safe and comfortable. So if this is making you not feel comfortable, maybe we should find a way to change it."

For a moment, Kris was silent just sitting there staring at the wolf, but then he took a breath and nodded slowly. "But how am I supposed to do anything about Duke? He's Dad's best friend, his only real friend here." He chewed on his lower lip frowning thoughtfully for a moment. "I wish Mom was here."

The wolf leaned forward a little. "Why's that, Kris?"

The boy seemed to deflate in on himself once more. "She's... just always been there when things weren't right. Like when Kaily and her parents died, it was Mom that held us all together as a family. She's the reason that we managed to keep Dad from getting too depressed and took me to the funeral even when he couldn't stand to go himself." He whimpered softly and added, "She'd know what to do."

Tristan thought he remembered something from Kris' student file. While the boy lived with his father, he and the mother shared custody, so it wasn't outside the realm of possibilities to get her involved with this if Kris would let the old wolf call her. "Do you want to call your Mom and tell her what's been happening?" An open door was the best he could offer at this moment, but perhaps the boy would walk through it on his own.

It was as if the boy didn't have a clue what he wanted to do. "I... I don't know. I mean, I want to live with her instead of Dad, but neither of them listens to what I want!" Inside his head, Tristan felt himself nod. That idea had been a running theme with the boy since he'd started seeing the counselor.

The counselor looked quickly to one side, noticing the clock. "Kris, our usual session time is running out. Now, if you think it's important, we can keep going. I'd like to offer two things for you to choose from: We can either keep talking now, for just a bit longer -- I can give you a pass to your next class, if need be -- or you could do a little mental homework for me." The wolf grinned slightly. "Nothing on paper, and nothing for a grade, just something that I want you to think about and tell me about next time I see you. Which of those choices would you like?"

"What's the homework?"

Tristan avoided smiling; he had been all but certain this would be the option. The kit wanted to talk, but it was still a little too soon. "I want you to think about what your mom would do about this. Imagine how she'd handle it, and why she'd do it that way. And then you can tell me about that next time we talk, okay?"

The kit actually looked relieved. He could probably have given an answer right then and there, but he'd have time to get away for now, and that's what was really on his mind -- getting away. "Okay, Mr. Black Wolf, I'll do that." To himself, Kris grinned. The counselor wouldn't believe what Mom would do to Duke, and he'd be ready to tell every detail!

* * * * *

It was Friday night, and the kits were fidgeting worse than normal in the pool. Finally, Venn called a halt to the farce, blowing on his whistle before he bellowed, "Everyone, out of the pool!" Wet bodies scrambled to obey him and he waited with exaggerated patience while they lined up in front of him. "You know and I know that this is an exercise in futility today. It's Friday, so you've had a long week, and with not only the weekend but the dance and Halloween awaiting you, the lot of you are all but worthless in the water."

He made a show of staring each of the twenty kits in the eye until they all looked down or away from him... all but Dastinon, that is. He could never phaze the otter. Of course, he couldn't find anything to criticize in the boy's behavior either. He was the only one of the kits that managed to keep his mind on his form; even Kris had been easily distracted this evening.

"So before one of you drowns, I am going to let you all go early. I hear the dance is scheduled to start in about an hour anyway, and if you're anything like I am you'll need that long just to get into your costumes." He paused as the kits started to grin and whisper with each other. "Oh, go on before I change my mind already." He waved at them like they were a flock of geese, and just like the imagined geese, they scattered at his command, all heading for the locker room at once.

He chuckled softly as he headed toward his office. He had a few preparations to make himself. He was a designated chaperone this year, and he was required to be in costume for the event. He'd all but forgotten the other otter when Jaz cleared his throat. "Does that mean I can go as well? Once the kits clear out of course." For all his purple fur, the young man was easy to miss since he was so quiet and self effacing. That... and his webbed hindpaws making him silent as a ninja, when he wanted to be.

"Oh Jaz... yes, of course you can go." He slipped an arm around the shorter male's shoulders and chuckled as he asked, "Did they rope you into chaperoning the dance as well?" He expected a blush or something similar but was surprised when Jaz simply returned his ironic smile.

"Unfortunately, yes," the otter sighed softly, "I never much cared for being on display, and now, I'm required to dress up and act a fool just to keep an eye on the student body." Then he brightened slightly. "I overheard you and Kerris a few days ago at lunch, talking about your costume. I hope you don't mind but I chose one that I think will compliment yours rather nicely."

Venn's ears lifted and he canted his head, curiosity piqued enough to make his nostrils flare slightly. "Oh? And what have you chosen to be may I ask?" He wasn't aware that Jaz had been in the room when that specific conversation had taken place. Considering some of the other conversations that he'd had in the staff room, he'd best be more careful to make sure he knew who might be listening.

Now came the blush he'd been expecting. "Oh, you'll see in about an hour, Coach O'Brien." As the sound of the kits leaving started to reach their ears Jaz turned to head out the door and make sure all of them made it out of the building.

"Jaz." Venn called, catching the younger male's attention. "I've told you a few times now, you don't have to call me Coach; Venn is just fine."

"I know Co-- Venn. It's just a hard habit to break."

With a snort, the horse quipped, "Try harder."

Jaz nodded slightly as he slipped out of the office. "I'll make it a priority Co-- Venn."

The horse grinned. He was in time to watch the last of the kits, some still dripping from their showers, go hurrying off into the gym and (presumably) on into the rest of the school to get their costumes in place in time for the dance.

* * * * *

Liran, with the help of Sylvia and Jamal, had secured the use of one of the main floor classrooms as a dressing room. He'd texted the group en mas with the room number and required that they be there promptly as soon as swim practice was over. Kittara had responded to the mass text with her own, letting the others know that swim practice had been cut short, so they were all gathered inside when Liran pushed the door shut and locked it from the inside twenty minutes later. "Good; you're all here. I brought some of the rolling screens from the theatre room so we can separate the boys from the girls. Wouldn't want any of you catching sight of what you don't have, now would we?"

Marcus grumbled, "Maybe we should separate you from everyone else..." A slight frown from Kittara had him quickly and quietly sulking, his arms crossed over his chest, instead of antagonizing their little martinette.

In short order, the boys were at the back of the room, while the girls had sectioned off the front part; each had a private little area to change in. Nearly as one, the kits started to pull out bits and pieces of costume and makeup and accessories from their bags and backpacks, everyone making use of the extra time they had to get the details of their personal look as perfect as possible. Along with the rolling screens, Liran had thought to bring a handful of mirrors that were shared out between the kits as each either worked on their own look or got help from one of the others.

An hour later, they were ready.

They could already hear the eerie sounds of strange music coming from the gym. Audio and Brice had made special arrangements to scout the Dance before the group entered (at Liran's request, of course). The ringtail had insisted that they had to make a grand entrance. To this end, the boys had rigged up a second costume that, with a few minor adjustments, they could put on over the cheerleader outfits, then change back out of in a hurry when Liran deemed enough time had passed for them to be fashionably late.

It was hard to tell which boy was which when they had donned their trenchcoats and fedoras. They looked so unassuming which was very out of character for Brice at least, but they promised the costumes would have the desired effect of making everyone think they were something completely unusual. Once they were attired Liran sent them on their way to keep an eye on the activity in the gym.

* * * * *

Venn hadn't known it was possible to open the wall between the gym and the cafeteria, but with those two rooms being the biggest in the school, it kind of made sense when you needed enough space to keep most of the student body in the same area. "Thank goodness the whole school didn't turn up," had been the comment he overheard from one of the older teachers, a worn-looking squirrel dressed as a priest. Venn tactfully kept from making jokes about exorcisms of troublesome students.

He saw most of the kits from the swim team entering with other groups of friends, but not the group he was waiting for. Kris, Dastinon, and a few others had been seen whispering together for the last few days, and he was curious to see what they had come up with for the contest that had been the major topic of conversation for the last few weeks. It would have to be something extra special if they intended to win the prize; he'd already seen zombies and vampires, a group of kits dressed like the characters from Rocky Horror Picture Show, with modified costumes that involved furtight body suits to keep them school-appropriate. There was a fairy tale group that had everything from Little Red Riding Hood to the three pigs who had been ever-threatened by the big bad wolf (they even had a wolf, though he didn't think the mouse who was dressed as the wolf would really scare anyone, not when the pigs were all linebackers, and Red Riding Hood was a wolf herself). Still, it made for some interesting insights into the kits minds.

He chuckled at the sight of two smallish bodies wrapped in brown trench coats and topped with fedoras stopped right beside him with practiced precision. "Hello boys, what are you? Spys?" The guess seemed appropriate to him ,considering all the Dick Tracy he'd watched when he was a foal.

The shorter of the two boys snorted, and Venn could see that it seemed to be a hedgehog, but it was the other that answered him. He recognized the voice as Audio's: "No Coach, we're Flashers." Both of the boys grinned up at his startled expression.

"Fla--" He cleared his throat and went on with more authority in his voice. "You boys do realize that this is a school-sanctioned event, and certain ru--GAH!" His voice turned into a strangled yelp of pain as the boys were suddenly alight. Their hats were flashing red and blue like a police car but their coats... He'd never seen so many bright LED lights sewn into a single piece of fabric, let alone two of them. They resembled disco balls if disco balls flashed randomly with such intensity that they rivaled the sun.

When his vision finally cleared the lights were off and the kits had disappeared into the gloom of the large room leaving him chuckling at their audacity.

* * * * *

Laughing hysterically, Audio and Brice tumbled through the door which Paul quickly closed before anyone could get a peek at what they were doing in there. "That was priceless! The look on his face when you said flashers!" Brice clapped Audio on the back hard enough that the fennec fell over his own tail.

* * * * *

After Kris waved good bye to the guys, he headed up into his building. The door was locked, but he had the key tucked into the pocket of his backpack and pulled it out to let himself in. He had just locked the door behind himself and was turning toward the hallway when he realized the lights were all on. That was odd but not unheard of; his Dad often passed out without turning the lights off. He reached into the kitchen to flick the switch when his wrist was captured in a large black paw.

"Where have you been, li'l one?" The sound of that voice sent shivers through him, and the scent of alcohol that came with it made panic grip at his tongue. He turned to look up into the menacing green eyes of the black mastiff that had been haunting his dreams of late.

"D-duke? I w-was out at the school dance." Kris tried to pull his wrist out of that massive paw, but Duke refused to turn him loose. "Let me go!" He tried stepping back and away from the dog, but all he succeeded in doing was making Duke follow him into the entryway.

The large dog's eyes ran down his body, taking in the cropped top and the tight short skirt, as well as the way Kris' hair was pinned back with barrettes in the school colors. A look came into Duke's eyes that Kris had only seen hints of before, and it froze him to the bone. "What are you wearing, little one?" Every slurred word carried the scent of the multiple drinks the dog must have imbibed over the course of the evening. "Tryin' t' see what it's like to be on th' other side for a change?" The dog's other paw moved to Kris' bare waist, his thumb resting along the top of the boy's skirt while his fingers curved around his hips and pressed down on his backside over the material. "You do make one purty li'l girl." He spoke right into Kris' face this time, nearly making the boy gag on the fumes, booze, onions, garlic, partially digested pizza still roiling in the dog's belly.

Kris felt the wall thump into his back before he realized he was backing away from the huge canine, and a terrified whimper slipped out of him. He felt like he was caught in the dog's eyes, like there was no way he was ever going to get out of them. He could feel the heat of that larger body even as Duke took one more step that allowed him to press Kris' skirt into his body. "D-Duke..." He tried one more time, but his voice was frightened, and it came out more as a squeak then the scream he'd intended it to be. He struggled, but it was far too late for him to slip out of the dog's clutches at this point, and something inside him knew it.

Easily, the mastiff caught the boy's flailing paw as it struck him in the side of the chest. "Now, now, is that any way to treat a friend?" He pushed both the boy's wrists behind his back and gathered them in his left paw with a practiced ease. "You've been teasin' me long enough, little one, flauntin' yerself about the place." The large canine might be drunk, but not enough to effect his coordination. His right paw returned to the boy's hip and slowly started to travel up along that soft bare fur. He didn't know what it was about kits that kept their fur so soft, but it was so hard not to touch them because of it. "So soft..." He used his larger bulk to press the boy into the wall a little more firmly and lowered his head to that tender young neck, nuzzling along the mostly bare shoulder, a soft moan escaped his throat as he took in the light floral scent that the boy had applied, mingling with his natural body odor and just a hint of fear.

Kris for his part wasn't still even with his paws clasped behind his back. He bucked his body against the larger dog's, trying to force him to let go, but it only seemed to add to whatever fantasy Duke was playing out. "Stop it," came out a little louder than his initial squeak but still more of a whisper than a real protest, "Duke, come on, quit, you're scaring me!"

Duke gave a low, dark laugh that made the fur stand up on Kris' neck, "How are y' gonna stop me, little one? Gonna pull out Daddy's gun and shoot the big bad dog? You tried that once before, remember..." His paw was under the boy's shirt now, sliding up over the roughness of lace and the squishiness of the prosthetic breasts the boy was using to fill out the top of his outfit. "These don't suit you at all." His fingers slipped around and made short work of the clasps that held that bit of lace in place. When he returned to the boy's chest, he simply pushed the prosthetics out of the way to let his palm slide over the boy's natural fur, another low moan escaping his throat. "Tha's better..."

It had taken Kris and the other boys hours to work out how to put on the bras, and getting out of them was just as hard. To have Duke remove his in less than ten seconds had Kris gasping in shock. He stiffened when that paw came back and played over his chest, leaving a dirty feeling behind it that made his skin crawl.

"There, see? I knew you'd like it if ya just relaxed into it." Duke's paw stroked back down his side, the fingertips combing through his fur in a way that made him want to scream, but there was literally nothing he could do to stop the large canine. "Let's see what you think of this, little one." In another unbelievable feat, the dog unfastened the waist of his skirt, without looking. That large invasive paw slid down into the back of the skirt, tucking into the shorts that lined it, and then under the waist of the panties that Kittara had insisted they wear to match the bras.

Duke let out a soft wordless moan as he found those panties, his fingers toying with the lace before he whispered against the side of Kris' head. "I knew you were the type to go all out but this... this is jus' begging for it."

Kris struggled again, slamming his hips back against the wall in the hope that he could hurt the dog's huge paw before it did anything else that left him feeling defiled. But Duke just laughed and jerked him forward against the slab of muscle that he called a chest. "Enough of that now; we both know you want this, or you wouldn't have dressed this way would you?"

"Duke, you're drunk; let me go." He tried to reason through the fear with the menacing black dog, his words still coming out like a lover's whisper. "I promise I won't say anything to Dad. Just... just let me g--" He never got to finish the words, Duke's mouth covered his, and the dog's tongue pushed between his lips roughly. He nearly choked on the thick, slimy meat of it, the fetid breath, the grunting, belching moan pushing the poisoned air into his lungs even as he fought to get away.

But he was trapped against the wall, caught like a butterfly on a pin, his struggles useless, ineffective. That large paw slid down over his backside, the fingers seeming to be looking for something, roughly parting his cheeks and probing between them. At the same time, he felt the dog's hips shift, and a large, hard shape pressed to the hollow between his hip and groin. It was massive and throbbed in a way that made Kris' skin crawl.

He felt so helpless. His wrists were caught in one massive paw, his body being violated by the other. It was like one of his nightmares coming true. Maybe it was a nightmare. Maybe he could just wake up, and it would have been a bad dream all along.

Those fingers found what they were after, and he screamed into the dog's mouth as one of them pressed uncompromisingly into his body, feeling like it was ripping him in half. The dog's tongue muffled his cries, stealing most of his breath so he was left limp and sweating, held up only by the pressure of Duke's chest holding him to the wall. The fight went out of him as the dog started to move his finger in and out of the opening he'd found, sawing at the muscles in a way that was more painful then Kris could ever have imagined. He was on the verge of passing out from the shock and pain when suddenly Duke wasn't pinned up against him anymore.

* * * * *

Edmond heard the sounds of a struggle even as he felt the fog in his brain lifting slightly. He laboriously pulled himself to his feet and held onto the wall for balance. Something wasn't right; he could hear Duke talking to someone, but no one was answering. Pushing away from the wall, he stumbled toward the entryway. Where the hell was Kris? The kit should have been back by now. Maybe that's who Duke was talking to.

He rounded the corner that separated the kitchen from the living room and froze, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Duke had some girl pinned to the wall his paw down her skirt. But it didn't look right to Edmund, the girl's arms were bent back behind her in a way that looked unnatural. He blinked a few times trying to figure out why this wasn't right.

The girl was a fine looking raccoon, reminded him of his brother's wife actually, with the way her dark grey curls fell. It wasn't until Duke moved against her that the wrongness of this situation sank in. Her chest was odd, the breasts too high and pushed to the side, almost on her shoulders and not centered on her chest, smushed against the dog's muscles like they should be. Her skirt didn't fall right, it should have been plastered between her thighs from the pressure of Duke's leg but instead it had a bulge in it...

Another few moments passed as his alcohol-fogged brain put the pieces slowly together. That wasn't a girl. The grey curls were pulled back but if they were left loose... His eyes widened and, with a gasping howl, he charged forward knocking the dog off his son!

* * * * *

Duke let out a frustrated growl as something shoved him away from Kris. He turned as the boy fell to the floor, seeking out the source of the disturbance, to find Edmund taking a swing at him. The older raccoon was off balance; he'd had a lot more to drink then Duke had, but then he'd known what the boy was doing tonight, going around dressed like a cheerleader, and he'd been ashamed to admit it.

Ducking back so that his friend didn't connect he yelled, "What the fuck, Ed?" He caught the next swing on his forearm.

"Out! Get out of my house!" Edmund's eyes were bloodshot and mad-looking as he advanced yet again on the larger canine. "Get the fuck out of my house, Duke!" He tried another swing at the large black dog and missed entirely as Duke backed up against the apartment door.

"Jesus, Ed, just fucking say so! Ya don't have to get all pissy about it." Duke reached behind himself and unlocked the door figuring that Ed needed sometime to cool off before he could rationally discuss this misunderstanding. "I'm going, I'm going; I'll call you tomorrow." The large male slipped out the partially open door and pulled it shut behind himself.

With the source of his rage abruptly gone, Edmund turned on the boy who by now was curled up in a ball hugging his knees. "Look what you did! You couldn't dress up as a fucking zombie like a normal kid! No, you had to turn yourself into a fucking pansy-ass cheerleader!" He vented some of the pent-up anger on the cause of this whole mess. "Well, are you happy now? You finally pushed Duke too far, and now I've had to throw him out! Fucking little piece of shit! Just like your fucking mother!" He slammed his fist into the wall, leaving a hole in the sheetrock just about the size of a heart. He pulled back, the dust and pieces falling to the floor in near silence, as if afraid to wake the neighbors. Edmund turned, staggering toward his bedroom, not bothering to notice the mess he'd made.

* * * * *

Kris didn't know what was happening anymore, he curled in on himself and hoped that whatever it was it was just another part of his nightmares. He heard the dog leave, felt his father turn to him and lifted his head with tear streaked cheeks about to thank him when Edmund started to yell at him. The older 'coon finally turned and left but not until his message sank in.

Kris sat there rocking himself, his father's words mingling with Duke's actions, until he was unable to do anything, think anything, feel anything at all. It was his fault. It was all his fault. His Dad was right. He was a piece of shit. Useless in every sense of the word. He deserved everything that had happened and more. Some sort of dust was hovering, slow to fall in the still air, touching the young 'coon's fur as he began to rock slowly, back and forth, back and forth...

He was still there, rocking, when the sun came up hours later.