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"Oh for fuck's sake, who cares who Christopher Columbus is? I've only just arrived on this damn planet..."

Russ grumbled to himself under his breath while he struggled to complete his History homework. It was the next Friday and he was determined to get a decent amount of work done before the football game that night. He'd had liked to go the Scott's house again, but he had made an unfortunate promise to Abigail the week prior, and he needed to follow through.

Thinking about Scott brought other memories to mind, namely the ghost pepper incident he had made himself endure. The burning had not abated for over an hour that night; Bryan and Abigail had arrived at the house bewildered as to what on Earth had happened. Scott had explained the situation to them while Russ was still recovering in the bathroom. The husky had gone home still tearing up and hiccupping, but he was relatively fine by the end of the night.

They were still able to laugh about it over the next week, though, and thinking about it now brought a grin to the husky's muzzle. He wouldn't be making a mistake like that again.

Setting down his pencil and looking up from his textbook, he decided that he needed a snack. Russ stood and headed downstairs towards the kitchen. He began searching through the pantry for a certain box he'd seen before. I know they have some crackers in here...

_ _ His search was interrupted by a presence behind him. The husky turned around to see Tyler standing there watching him. Russ had to admit he was a little creeped out by the wolf's sudden appearance. How long had he been there just staring at him?

Tyler broke the awkward silence by grumbling, "Top shelf." Russ blinked and turned his gaze up to the top shelf of the pantry; there was the box of crackers that he had been looking for, just sitting there in plain sight. He reached up and grabbed them, and the wolf snorted and pushed past him, searching for his own snack.

As he stepped back to give Tyler some room, Russ was once again enamored by the wolf's form. Tyler was once again clad in a sleeveless shirt and gym shorts. The husky never understood how he could walk around all the time dressed like that; he had to get cold sometimes, especially with his short fur.

Not that Russ minded though, as it gave him more to look at. His lack of sleeves allowed the husky to admire the bulging muscles of the wolf's biceps and forearms as he gripped the wall and door handle. Tyler was facing directly away from him, providing a perfect display of his muscled back above a narrower waist. But it was what lie lower that really got the husky's attention. The wolf's tail wagged softly over his perfect bubble ass that was accentuated flawlessly by his gym shorts that fit rather snugly. The two muscled cheeks sat like perfect globes underneath the fabric and looked firm but springy to the touch. The husky couldn't help but lick his lips at the thought of what that butt would look like in those tight football pants he'd be wearing tonight...

Tyler abruptly turned around and noticed the husky's appraising gaze. Puzzled, he looked down at the newly formed bulge in his pants and then realized what Russ must have been looking at. His eyes widened in shock and his jaw hung open. "What the fuck? Were you fucking staring at my ass?"

The wolf's accusatory tone caused Russ to shrink back in embarrassment and guilt. He knew he shouldn't have been eyeing up Tyler like that; it was the same as last time, and in the same context too. His obsession with the football jock needed to stop. He was an asshole. And he wasn't even gay!

Regardless of the situation, he still needed to redeem himself. So before it got too awkward, Russ rolled his eyes in derision, turning and pretending to occupy himself with something on the counter. "Maybe. Don't flatter yourself. It's the only part of you that's attractive."

He meant it as an insult, but it had come out sounding like a backhanded compliment. The wolf flicked an ear at the ambiguous statement and once again donned that cocky smirk of his. He pushed past Russ again and snatched an apple from the fruit bowl, taking a loud bite. "Just stay the fuck away from me, you perv."

Russ chuckled. "No danger of that, asshole. Frankly, I'm surprised your own teammates can stand you." He watched as the wolf munched on his apple. "Shouldn't you be at practice anyway?"

"I'm going now." Tyler said through a mouthful of fruit. He began moving towards the front door. "Try not to drool too much at the game, nerd!"

"Don't strain yourself, jerk!" Russ snapped back without missing a beat. The exchange would have felt playful if it weren't for the reality of the situation. He waited until he heard the front door slam to step back from the counter and look down. His hard on had subsided enough to avoid detection unless one looked closely.

Sighing, the husky grabbed the box of crackers off the counter and headed back upstairs. However, he stopped when a sudden thought occurred to him. Is he going to tell the others he caught me checking him out? After a moment's consideration, he shook his head and decided he didn't care. If the group of jocks didn't have something to make fun of him for, they'd just make something up anyway. There was no use fretting over it.

Right now, he needed to focus on getting some work done. The game would be starting in just a couple hours and he wanted to get a good head start...

..................................

"Have you ever been to a football game, Russ?"

"Can't say that I have. Is it fun?"

A chuckle. "Well, that depends on which team you're supporting. But yes, it's plenty of fun. You'll see."

So far things looked promising. Bryan, Abigail, and Russ had just emerged from the parking lot of the school and were now walking to the field. The sidewalk was crowded with other people heading in the same direction and he could see even more filling the bleachers on both sides of the field. He could hear their commotion easily from all the way out to the parking lot.

Once they did get to the field, the noise became much louder. An unfamiliar song blasted out the speakers positioned on top of the bleachers reserved for Westborrow. Red, gold, and white banners and posters stretched along the outside fence and even hung from the railings on the bleachers. Furs walked about chatting merrily, some carrying food items from the concession stand and others sporting paint on their faces. Russ grimaced at the latter sight; that had to be a pain to wash out of fur.

Looking out onto the field, there was a team that he had never seen before, wearing blue and silver uniforms. They appeared to be engaged in a pre-game practice drill, running about and passing the ball with pinpoint accuracy. At the far end of the field was the home team in red and white, the colors that the school took pride in. They were doing something similar, except that they seem much more relaxed than the guest team. Russ couldn't tell who was who from this distance, but he knew that Tyler was among them.

"You want a hot dog, Russ?"

Russ was momentarily interrupted from his survey by Abigail's question. In his amazement at the scene, he offered a distant "yeah" and continued admiring the view. Abigail left to collect their food while Bryan and Russ proceeded to the bleachers. The area was packed with spectators, so it took a while to find a space wide enough to fit the three of them.

After a bit of waiting, a male voice sounded over the din. "Welcome, everyone, to tonight's home match at Westborrow High School. Tonight, our very own Westborrow Knights go up against the Katersville Falcons!"

Fans on both sides of the field cheered wildly at the announcement, though the furs on this side were considerably louder. The commentator went on about the rules of the event and then announced the National Anthem. Everyone stood up with their paws over their chests while the marching band - led by Mr. Berkley, Russ now noticed - played the anthem. From the bleachers, he thought he recognized a few people from his Band class, including Dan trumpeting expertly with the others.

Soon the anthem ended and the team ran out onto the field, tearing through a banner and shouting wildly. Their over-the-top enthusiasm made Russ chuckle a bit; this entire event was overflowing with pride of the school. The band played the school's fight song while the team leaped around and jumped into each other playfully.

Once the band finished, everyone settled down and the team moved to their side of the field closest to the bleachers. Abigail soon came back with their food and the three of them watched interestedly as the team huddled in a group. Eventually, some members broke off and positioned themselves in a formation on the field. Russ wasn't sure what the purpose of this was, but he was sure it had some strategic value.

Bryan noticed his confusion and asked, "Do you know the rules of football?"

Russ shook his head. "I've never even seen a game. Is it complicated?"

"Not really," Bryan replied. He pointed out at the field. "See the way they're positioned? Each player serves a unique purpose during each play."

That made sense. It explained why each player was so spread out across the yard line. He observed the players and noticed the number "73" on one of their backs. Remembering that it was Tyler's number, he asked another question.

"So what's Tyler's job in all this?"

"His job is usually to run the ball as far as he can. I mean, that's what everyone does, but he's one of the key players involved in the offensive line," Bryan explained. "His position is called the tight end."

_Appropriate,_Russ thought with a smirk, but squashed the lewd notion immediately. He cleared his throat and continued, "So how do you get points in this game?"

"By scoring a touchdown," said Bryan. "The objective of the game is to get the ball to the other end of the field as many times as possible before the time runs out."

Seems simple enough. Russ watched intently as the game began with the kickoff.

As the game progressed, however, it turned out not to be nearly as simple as he expected. What started as simple attempts to run the ball as far as possible quickly transformed into complicated plays that seemed to fail over and over again. One team would almost get to the end zone just before the ball was turned over to the other team. And apparently it was possible to just intercept the ball entirely, forcing a turnover, which complicated matter even further. Both coaches would constantly switch out their player, either to give them a break or to try different tactics.

It appeared that football was actually a very heavily strategic game. Maybe those dumb jocks that gave him so much trouble weren't so dumb after all. No, they're still dumb, Russ decided.

Near the end of the game, both teams were in a tough position with tied scores and only a minute and a half left on the clock. The Falcons' quarterback threw the ball towards one of his receivers only to be intercepted by Tyler. Bryan and Abigail and the rest of the home audience jumped up and cheered wildly as the wolf darted around the other players and sped to the end zone, scoring a touchdown and securing a victory for his team. He did a little victory dance as his teammates leaped around him and gave him congratulatory pats on his helmet.

Russ now understood the MVP award he had seen earlier.

After the game, they stood near where the locker rooms were located to wait for Tyler. Some other parents were there as well. They didn't have to wait long as the players began streaming out of the exit now in regular clothes. Some of them talked with each other for a bit while others headed straight out to the parking, namely those who drove themselves.

While they waited, Russ spotted the wolf back in his sleeveless shirt and gym shorts talking with Rod. His parents were distracted chatting with another couple about the game. The two jocks saw him watching and stopped just outside the exit, Russ meeting their gaze across the lawn. Without breaking eye contact, Tyler leaned over and muttered something in the bear's ear, and a sinister smile spread across Rod's face. Russ had to hold back a shiver, sensing that something bad was in his near future.

"Tyler! You ready to go?" Bryan called out, having finished his conversation.

"Yeah, Dad!" Tyler replied. He turned to Rod and shared a pound hug and a fist bump. "See ya, bro."

"Yeah, later," said Rod. He gave the husky one last glance before turning toward his own car.

As they went to the car - Russ and Tyler doing their best to ignore the other's presence - the husky thought about what he had just seen. What had Tyler said to the bear? And why did Rod react the way he did? He was certain the two were planning something against him, and the thought continued to worry him on the way home.

Of course, he wouldn't just sit and let them get away with it either, whatever it was. Russ just needed to wait for the chance to put Rod in his place.

...............................

He got his chance the very next Monday. It was during his health class, which was another course that he was required to take. Incidentally, Rod had also landed in this class with him, and happened to sit right behind him.

That day, Rod had decided to do possibly the most immature thing one could do to another in a class...and repeatedly kicked his chair during a lecture. It was a gentle kick - enough to cause the husky discomfort, but not enough to attract attention from the teacher.

Russ was able to ignore the jabs at his chair for the most part, but his ears folded when the bear started to taunt him under his breath.

"What's the matter, fag?" Rod whispered just barely audibly. "Can't handle a little bump?"

The husky's grip on his pencil tightened as he took notes. As much as he tried to pretend that Rod's antics didn't faze him, he couldn't deny that it didn't take much for the bear to get on his nerves. According to the clock, there was only ten minutes left of class, so he did his best to ignore him.

But the jock persisted in his pestering. "Did you have fun at the game, fag?" He kicked the chair again. "Bet you were having the time of your life, just eyein' us all up. Probably the only reason you came at all."

So Tyler had indeed told him. Figures. The comment only served to agitate him further, and he gritted his teeth while scribbling furiously in his notebook.

"It's all a fucking perv like you is good for," Rod mocked. "You're probably fucking that little sissy bear friend of yours..."

Okay, that was over the line. He could withstand comments about himself, but any jabs against his friends were out of the question. If Rod said one more thing about Scott, he was going to turn around and -

"Mister Black!" The teacher said suddenly, addressing the jock. "Can you tell us how many servings of vegetables are recommended daily?"

Rod fell silent as every eye in the room turned to him. Russ didn't move, only fought to suppress a grin at the jock getting busted. Rod stammered foolishly, "I...uh...two?"

The teacher sighed in disappointment. "That is incorrect, Mr. Black."

Spotting an opportunity, Russ seized it. "People are typically recommended to consume three to five servings of vegetables in a reasonable variety every day," he spoke up. For good measure, he added, "Although athletes need to be especially aware of their daily consumption, since they require more nutrients as a result of how much more active they are."

"Spot on, Mr. Talvek. Thank you," said the teacher. She spoke to Rod, "Did you hear that, Mr. Black? You'll want to know this not only for the test, but also for use in your sporting endeavors. Please try to pay attention."

Got him. The teacher went back to lecturing and Russ continued his note-taking, except now he felt an air of victory. He had just effectively made Rod look stupid in front of the entire class. It was a feeling that he had longed for ever since that first day at lunch. And if he didn't know better, it seemed that Rod was substantially embarrassed from the incident. Russ could no longer feel the bully's foot kicking the seat and the taunting whispers had stopped.

The bell soon rang and everyone got up to leave. Russ gathered up his things and headed for the door, but not before he heard the bear murmur three words behind him. It was a phrase that brought chills running down his spine, an utterance that dripped with anger like blood from a corpse.

"You're fucking dead."

.................................

The bright tones of a trumpet filled the band room as a lone husky sat in front of a music stand. His eyes remained glued on the sheet music as he fervently worked the valves of the instrument, producing tunes of an uplifting quality. The husky soon reached the end of his piece and lowered his trumpet, frowning in concentration. He picked up a pencil and made some notes on the paper.

Having listened to the entire practice session, Mr. Berkley came over and sat down next to his student. "How's it going?"

The otter was one of the only teachers he could talk to this casually. "I'm feeling pretty good about it," Russ said. "Just a little more work on it and I think I'll be in good shape for the concert."

"I'm glad to hear it," Berkley smiled. "I have to say, I am very impressed with how much you've improved since the first day. You practice a lot, too, which is always a plus."

"Well, you were right. Practice really pays off!" Russ grinned. "Oh, and I saw you guys at the game on Friday. You sounded great!"

"Thank you! Now that you mention it, I think you'd be a welcome addition to the marching band next year. After all, Dan graduates this year, so we'll need someone to replace him."

Russ was overjoyed at the compliment. "You know, I think I will. It looked like fun!"

Berkley chuckled. "Oh, it is, I assure you." He looked up at the clock. "Unfortunately, I'm going to have to kick you out now. The buses leave in ten minutes and I don't want you to get left behind."

Russ glanced at the clock as well and agreed. "Okay. Thanks for letting me stay, Mr. Berkley."

"Any time, Russ, any time."

He quickly packed up his instrument and sheet music and left the room. The husky turned down the corridor that he knew led to a direct exit from the Arts wing. He pushed through the metal doors and emerged into the cool breeze and the sun.

"Well, well, look who it is!"

Fuck.

_ _ Rod was hanging out with his group of friends just outside the entrance, including that hyena he had seen earlier. Tyler was nowhere to be seen. They left their hangout spot and spread out in front of the husky, blocking his path.

Rod advanced upon him. "Bet you think you're hot shit, huh? Giving me shit in class like that?"

Russ rolled his eyes. "Come on, Rod, let's not do this now. You're not nearly as popular as you seem to think you are." He looked around, noticing the absence of a certain wolf. "I see Tyler's not here to back you up. Too afraid to face me?"

The bear sneered. "Why? You miss him?"

"I -" For the first time, Russ didn't know how to respond to the bully. The jab had been so random and peculiar that it had left the husky at a loss for words.

Rod latched onto the weakness immediately. "Aww, got a little crush on Ty, have we?" He grinned menacingly at the husky's shocked reaction, the other jocks chuckling along with him. "That's right, I know about that. Ty told us all about how he caught you checking him out that one time -"

"Anything Tyler tells you about me is none of his damn business," said Russ with renewed force. "Nor is it yours. Now I'd appreciate it if you'd back up and let me through."

Rod moved in closer to the husky, muscles tensed. Around the corner, the cacophony of tired engines and squeaky wheels was heard. The busses were leaving.

"You'd better watch your mouth around me, fag," Rod growled.

"Or what?" An inspiration occurred to him, and he smirked. "You'll kiss me?"

Their heads were indeed only inches apart at this point, and the response was immediate. Rod snarled and rumbled threateningly after taking a step back, but Russ stared him straight in the eye without flinching. Without warning, Rod called out a single command.

"Hold him."

Two of his lackeys promptly grabbed his arms tightly and held him in place. Russ struggled furiously, but it was no use. The jocks were clearly much stronger than he was. Rod was moving in again with an infuriated expression on his muzzle.

"...fucking teach you to mouth off at me..." he grumbled before balling his paw into a fist and landing a powerful punch right in the husky's gut. The air was forced from his lungs as he took the hit. He wanted to keel over, but his captors kept him standing upright. Rod pummeled him again and he cried out, one of his captors wrapping a paw around his muzzle to prevent him making more noise.

"Fucking...fag...think...you're...smart...I'll...fucking...ruin...YOU!!!" The bear punctuated each word with heavy blows to his stomach. He was in a blind rage, not even letting Russ recover from each impact. He finished with a knee to the husky's crotch, causing him to scream out in pain and drop to the ground curled up in a ball.

Russ was shaking and whimpering with tears streaming down his cheeks, his previous dignified composure now ruined. The bullies chuckled over him while Rod in particular seemed pleased with himself now that he had gotten his frustrations out.

Rod kneeled on one knees and leaned in. "Still got something to say, you little piece of shit? Huh?"

Russ didn't answer, only continued his whimpering in the fetal position. His gut and entire lower part of his body were in so much pain he couldn't bear it. He hardly even registered the bear's words as he struggled to cope with the torment that was brought upon him.

Rod chuckled darkly as he got back up, staring down his victim. But then, his victorious gaze turned to one of consideration. He seemed to get an idea as the sinister smile reappeared on his muzzle.

"You guys pick him up and carry him. Follow me," he ordered. His eyes gleamed deviously. "How about we do something about that fur?"

The husky's eyes widened. "No! Please -" That was all he got out before three of them roughly pulled him up and carried him on their shoulders. His muzzle was once again held shut to prevent extra noise.

They took him back inside and into the art room that was only a few doors down the corridor. Rod shut the door and locked it, crossing the room towards some cans near the sink. Russ was set down against the wall, still struggling to get free.

"Tie him up," Rod said as he worked. No one could see what he was doing. "And make sure he doesn't yell or nothing."

The other jocks quickly found some string and tied it around his muzzle, keeping it shut. They yanked his arms behind him and bound his wrists together as well. The string was surprisingly strong, as he was unable to break out of it. They left his legs free to move, but he wasn't going anywhere as long as they were around to keep an eye on him.

The husky was now very panicked. Tears still ran down his face not just from the pain anymore, but also from the severity of his predicament. How had it come to this?

There was a loud pop as Rod opened one of the cans. He turned around and Russ struggled anew once he got a good look at what was in the bear's paws. It was a can of paint. And he knew exactly what the bully was planning.

Rod grinned at his reaction as he moved in closer and crouched down to the husky's level. He took a thick paintbrush and dipped it into the can, thoroughly coating the bristles in bright yellow. He then brought the brush down to Russ' head and began smearing it into his fur.

The husky whimpered desperately and tried to get away, but Rod held him in place and continued the act. He made sure to spread the paint across his arms, down his legs, and even on his tail, all the while making sure to work in the paint nice and deep. And of course, he did all of this with a huge shit-eating grin on his face.

Once he was done, Rod stepped back to admire his work. The husky now sat against the wall covered in yellow paint from head to toe, including his clothes. The paint had been rubbed deep into his thick fur so that it would be a hassle to wash out. His tearful eyes watched the bully in fear of what he would do next.

Rod nodded in approval of the sight. He then addressed his friends, "Anyone else want a turn?"

And so it began. Each of his lackeys - four in total - took a different color of paint and smeared it into the husky's fur, each clearly enjoying their work. Russ wasn't even struggling anymore or making an effort to dodge the brushes. He simply sat hopelessly, silently crying while his fur was ruined. All the while Rod watched the scene with an air of confidence, occasionally offering a deprecating remark to their victim.

When they all stepped back, the husky was truly a mess. His entire body was covered in various colors of paint so that his natural blue shade was barely even visible. Even his tail was unrecognizable through the chaos of chrome. He felt sticky, and he knew that he would need a very long shower to wash it all out.

Suddenly, one of the jocks, the hyena, shouted, "Yo Ty! Get in here, man!"

Russ' ears perked at the exclamation, craning his head to see the hyena let Tyler into the room. The wolf wore his football jacket and trademark snapback. He looked confused until he saw the state of the husky, and his eyes went wide.

"Come join the party dude!" Rod said, pounding the wolf's back. "Take a can and have at it! You can be the grand finale!"

Russ took this opportunity to try and say something. "Tllerrr!" He could just barely form words. "Hllppp mee! Pllssse!"

Tyler didn't seem to know what to do in this situation. He appeared torn. Rod spoke up. "Come on, bro, you really gonna pass this up? Or you gonna teach him a lesson of your own?"

Russ whimpered pathetically. "Pllsse..."

The room was silent while the wolf made his decision. Soon a wide devious smirk appeared on Tyler's muzzle and the husky shrank back in defeat. The wolf went to one of the cabinets and pulled out a box of glitter. He then took a can of paint and began mixing the glitter in.

Rod chuckled as he realized what the wolf was doing and gave another order. "Get him up."

They pulled him up again so that he was standing, but still didn't let him move anywhere. Tyler soon finished and stood in front of Russ, paint in paw and his smirk still plastered onto his muzzle. The wolf savored the moment for a bit and then stepped directly in front of him, pouring the entire mixture over the husky's head and shoulders.

The group laughed wildly as Russ was covered from head to toe in green paint and glitter. The husky was crying full force again now that Tyler had joined in on the event. The wolf was an asshole - he had always been - but he still couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal at the act.

Tyler made sure the husky was properly coated before grasping his ruined shirt and pulling him in close. "If you tell Mom and Dad about this," he growled. "You're dead." He pushed Russ backward, the husky slipping over some paint and crashing into an open closet. Art supplies tumbled off the shelves, including some liquid materials that burst open upon impact and spilled all over the floor.

"Shit, dude!" Said one of the jocks. "What'd you push him so hard for?"

"I didn't!" Tyler replied. "He fucking slipped! It wasn't my fault!"

"Fuck this, man. I'm not cleaning that up. I'm outta here!" Rod retreated back the way they came, Tyler and the other following him.

Russ was left sobbing in the art room, still bound by string. He rubbed the string binding his wrists against the counter edge and eventually broke free. After removing the makeshift muzzle, he was free to cry more openly, which he did. Rod was an asshole. Tyler was an asshole. They were all assholes, and anyone who said different could go eat a giant pile of shit.

He needed to leave before anyone found him. Russ bolted from the room and down the corridor, thankfully clear of bullying jocks. He burst out the exit and kept running until he reached the end of the parking lot, the busses having long since gone. Luckily, Russ knew the way home and it wasn't too far away, so he started walking. At some point, he realized that he had left his trumpet and backpack at the school, but he didn't care. Right now, he just wanted to go home, take a shower, and never come back.

He wasn't sure how long it took to get home, but needless to say Abigail was shocked when he finally barged through the front door covered in paint.

"Russ?!" she exclaimed. "What on Earth happened?!"

The husky didn't answer; he went straight through the living room and up the stairs, ignoring her shouts behind him. The first thing he did once he got upstairs was grab a towel and lock himself in the bathroom. He turned on the shower, waited for the water to warm up, and stepped in.

Russ heard Abigail knocking on the door asking him what was wrong, but he still ignored her. He didn't need her consolation. He had stopped crying by now, and at this point he was just angry. Abigail eventually relented, and the husky was left by himself.

The shower floor became a swirling mess of colors as Russ scrubbed his fur furiously. He felt betrayed. Well and truly betrayed. When he had first entered the house, he had felt somewhat excited at the prospect of another teen living in the same household. Being an only child, sharing a house with another person his age was something he had looked forward to. It would be like having a brother, he had thought.

But when he and Tyler actually met for the first time, things changed. Tyler's attitude towards Russ quickly morphed from apathetic to resentful to outright cruel. Russ' vision of Tyler transformed from a handsome sports wolf he could talk to and be friends with to an egotistical bully who cared about no one but himself. He didn't give a flying fuck about how the husky felt. And Russ' obvious crush on the wolf certainly didn't help matters. Although that particular sentiment was all but destroyed. He deserved better.

It took him half an hour of scrubbing to get most of the paint out, and he could still spot some glitter here and there. It was good enough for now though, and Russ stayed a little longer to make sure that the paint had washed fully down the drain. He then dried off, wrapped the towel around his waist, and went straight to his room.

Relieved to be back in his "safe place," Russ found a pair of sweatpants and put them on. He didn't feel like putting anything else on, so he sat on the bed and let his mind wander. Why couldn't he just tell Bryan and Abigail what happening? Sure, Tyler had threatened him not to, but what could he do about it really? In the end, Russ decided against it. This family had already sacrificed enough for him; they didn't need him screwing things up further.

At some point Abigail came knocking again, to which Russ refused to respond other than "I'm fine!". His eyes drifted over to the makeshift Solarian calendar he had hung on his wall and noticed a special mark scribbled on this day. It was something he should have remembered.

Today was his birthday. He had just turned eighteen.

Thoughts of home and family made him start crying again, laying down sideways on the mattress. Having his birthday away from his family further ruined by a severe case of bullying was too much.

"Happy birthday to me...happy fucking birthday to me..."

The eventfulness of the day combined with crying as much as he did began to make him sleepy. It was in this manner that he ended up crying himself to a dreamless sleep.

...........................

Russ woke up later feeling chilly. Outside the window, the sun had gone down and the temperature in the house had dropped a bit. He checked his alarm clock next to the bed. 9:30. He had missed dinner. The growling in his stomach was a testament to that.

He crossed to the dresser and put on a plain white t-shirt. As he was about to leave, he spotted the black watch on top of the dresser. It had been resting there for weeks gathering dust, but now something was different. There was a small red blinking light on the side of it, something that he had never seen happen before.

Russ picked it up curiously and pressed the power button. The screen lit up and displayed the words "1 New Message (1 Holo)."

Holo? In his experience, that abbreviation only translated to "holographic," and holograms were not an established part of Earth's technology yet. His heart leaped as he realized that the only person that could have sent him a holographic message was someone who did _not_live on this planet. Like a Solarian.

Russ excitedly glanced at the door, listening to make sure no one was about to walk in. Satisfied, he tapped a small icon on the screen. The display changed to show the words "This message will be permanently deleted upon completion." The transmission must have been very important to warrant a self-terminating message.

The husky found a spare notebook and pencil from his desk and took the watch from his dresser. He pressed "read message," set the watch down on the bed, and waited. Within seconds, light spilled from the screen like a projector, soon solidifying in the air into the form of...

"Dad?!"

The form of Krendor Talvek was projected above the bed, his blue-tinted hologram flickering slightly.

"This is Second Commander Talvek or the Solarian Army" the hologram spoke. "I have urgent news regarding the safety of the Solarian race. Please pay close attention, as this message will self-terminate upon completion."

Shaking himself out of his moment of awe, Russ gripped his pencil and got ready to write. This was clearly information that he could not forget.

"If you are listening to this message, then you either survived the ambush of Rec-B 241 on its return journey from the Reaper galaxy or heard about it. Either way, it is imperative that you know what I am about to tell you." Krendor's face was stone serious, staring straight ahead without flaw. "Despite the spontaneity of the attack, we managed to get most passengers out of the ship alive. The ship was able to return to Solarius safely but with seven casualties. All children returning from the TriNexus Career Camp returned home safely."

Russ released a shuddering sigh at the latter part of the news. Krendor's words had filled him with a renewed sense of hope. They were alive.

"However," Krendor continued gravely. "This event introduces a threat that cannot be ignored. The aliens that performed the attack undoubtedly have greater motives than simply striking fear among our numbers. Introducing...the Tilodons."

Krendor walked to the side to make room for a large three-dimensional image to appear in his place. Russ jumped as he recognized the image as one of those nightmarish creatures from that fateful night. It was frozen in a menacing pose as if it were ready to pounce, its gaping maw full of teeth and sharp claws poised to kill.

"The Tilodons are a reptilian alien race that played a large role in the Great War. They were one of the major races involved in the War and were responsible for the deaths of Aventus Centuri and Archimedes Cyrus the First. Their current galaxy or system of residence remains unknown; however, it has been determined that they are not far from the Reaper galaxy, given the promptness of their attack."

"As said before, we do not know their true motivation behind the ambush, but we do know that this is not the end. They will be back, and they will stop at nothing to kill or capture every last one of us."

The image of the Tilodon changed to a diagram of sorts, illustrating individual galaxies with details listed next to them. "During the attack, some survivors were sent to foreign planets to escape the wrath of the Tilodons."

"We will be revisiting these planets via an alternate path in order to avoid another attack. If you are one such survivor, please record the pickup date that corresponds to your planet. Send a transmission or be waiting outside the atmosphere if possible so that we know to expect you. If you cannot do either, find another way to contact us as we will be orbiting the planet for a total of eight Solarian hours before departure."

Russ frantically searched for his planet among the listed and settled upon the smallest of them all, labeled L-GAIA 774. Lactus Galaxy. Milky Way. Gaia. _Earth._He hastily scribbled down the date.

"I will say this once more: the Tilodons pose a remarkable threat to our population. The Solarian and other Triad races are in danger. If you cannot contact us, find a ship. Steal one, _build_one if you have to and have the ability. One would be surprised how far a simple rusty wrench can go."

_Rusty._Krendor's expression softened a little, a knowing gleam in his eyes. "I'll see you soon."

"Dad..." Russ whispered before the hologram disappeared and the message cut off. The husky was once again left in the silence of his room. His heart raced as he digested the onslaught of information.

"They're alive..." he muttered. His ears perked as he heard footsteps nearing his door. Russ hastily grabbed the watch and put it the first place that came to mind: under the pillow. He spun around and tried to appear casual as the door swung open.

Tyler surveyed the room in confusion finally resting his gaze on the husky. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"I heard someone talking in here."

Russ snarled as he remembered who he was talking to. "So? Since when did you give a fuck about me?"

Tyler glared back before scoffing. "Just keep it down." He left without another word.

Russ immediately went to close the door, making sure to lock it this time. He leaned back against it as he replayed the message in his mind.

"They're alive." He repeated. Arc and Silva and everyone else...they were alive! And so was his father! "But I have no way of getting back..."

Then he remembered the last part of Krendor's message. Build one if you have to and have the ability. And he did have the ability. Well, kind of. He had never built a ship before, but he knew the theory behind it.

His father's words came back to him. Be strong for me. You can do that, can't you?

"I can be strong..."

Russ sat at his desk and pulled out a large stack of blank notebook paper. He took a single page and titled it "Spaceship Construction Plans."

"I can be strong, Dad. For you."