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A dark wolf with amber eyes sat on the bed in a tiny room, a stainless steel toilet across from him with a sink at the tank. Beside him was a neatly folded orange pants and shirt, a white undershirt, and a pair of barely white tighty whities. The neat blue/green sheets were still neatly tucked under the thin mattress, pillow fluffed on the other side of him.

He had his feet up on the bed, arms balanced on his knees with his head laid back against the wall. His ebony fur was damp from being aggressively hosed down, just to wash away some watery mud from his tussle with authorities.

The lights had been shut off hours before, but he had too much on his mind to try and sleep. An ear twisted at heavy footsteps and a small light from under the door, likely from a flashlight. The patrolling guard was a large rhino male, making sure all the doors were shut and inmates behaving.

A small smile crossed the wolfs lips, Inmates... They're children. Cowards with daddy issues and over protective mothers, lashing out to be the bad boys. Just one big pissing contest for top dog... His pink tongue licked over his whiskers, brushing them back as he flashed his fangs in the poor light.

His right hand rose to scratch under his jaw, hearing the guard pass the doors again. Thinking back to how he got here in this juvenile detention center. Oh... right. We were in the woods training, wandered off compound. Took the scenic route back and got caught by local cops. Almost out ran the fuckers too... Stupid cheetah pig...

His dark claws started to pick at each other, cleaning a little dirt from under them. If she hadn't been so delicious looking I wouldn't have gotten pinned by that fuckin' bull... With a tilt of his head his brows knit, When is the last time I got laid... A week? Fuck... No wonder I was so handsy. I should remedy that when I get back.

Laying his head back against the wall another smile pulled at his lips. Tongue licking back along his lips as his mind flooded with his fantasies, wishing that just maybe he'd appease his desires with the cheetah cop that busted him. A bit of saliva escaping his maw while his nude body boiled in a level of excitement.

It was dawn by the time the lights flicked on, a burly voice echoing down the hall for them to rise and shine. Loud grumbles and groans as the other boys rolled out of bed.

The wolf stood, picking up the orange clothes, Well... They won't flatter me but it'll probably help em stay out of my ass. His ears perked, Oh wait... Right, I'm around twinks... They might be dirty, I'd better keep it in my pants. Donning the clothes he made sure they laid somewhat neatly over his muscled frame, rolling his shoulders before cracking his maned neck.

After about another half hour there was a loud buzz and the lock on his steel door clicked. Combing his forward facing tuft of hair with his claws he pad over to the door, hearing the other doors slide open and excited hooting and hollering quick to follow suit.

Pushing his door open his tongue licked over his teeth, Just remember, be good for the cameras... Keep your teeth to yourself. Stepping out he overlooked the commons area.

There were tables and chairs set all nice and neat, other orange clad boys of varying races. He was on the second floor, looking over the railing at those below him. Noting how they gathered in tight groups, classed likely by civilian class systems. The thugs, the pretty school boys, the gangsters, and the odd pairs who fit nowhere particular. The big, the pretty, and the stupid... So many options, so little balls. Making his way over to the stairs he looked out over the groups, and it was quickly apparent that he was the new kid.

Eyes fell upon him, a few glancing up and down his body with soft laughs. A couple larger ones even held a hungry gaze on him. Voices hushed as they joked about what they would do to him.

Faggots... I bet you're just imagining me naked and bent over, no fuckin creativity. He stepped away from the stairs and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. Watching as they stared, hearing, if only faintly, what they thought of him.

The pretty boys thought he was nothing more than a brute, probably in for smashing some kids head in for talking shit about his mommy.

The bigger thugs believed he may be in for drugs, maybe accused of rape after having sex with a slut.

The gangsters were split into two groups, ones that spoke English and ones that didn't. He could only identify a few of the Spanish words they used, they also assumed drugs. The others, the try hard gangsters, thought maybe he got caught for theft.

The stragglers each had their own ideas, some wilder than others.

Either way, he listened, annoyed at the cracky voices of the few who hadn't had their balls drop yet. Half tempted to rip them out... To help. After about fifteen minutes one of the bigger guys, a boar, walked up. He was a little hard to understand, his low gruff voice asking his name.

Phoenix, He'd replied, already seeing the bullshit meter going off in the guys tiny brain.

He nodded, using his name with a level of distaste as he introduced himself as Kurt. Then stated that they all knew he'd been brought in last night, and everyone had the same burning question. What are you in for?

Phoenix pursed his lips, shifting his whiskers left and right as he debated. While he did Kurt was staring at him, eyes having trouble staying up, sinking down with a hungry glare.

He continued to speak, commenting on his build, reaching a grubby hand out to curl a finger in his soft, almost silky fur. His rough voice softened, barely, to a tone that would best be described as a poor attempt at sultry. Getting closer he inhaled by his neck, noting out loud how he smelled like a wet dog, and that the guards probably enjoyed hosing him down in cold water.

Again the boar asked his question.

Fortunately, he wasn't convicted, they were holding him on just a few charges; nudity, trespassing on private property, vandalism, assaulting a police officer... and sexual assault.

They snickered, and the boar ran his knuckle down the front of the wolfs shirt, going lower. Speaking low, musing how much of a bad dog he was.

Licking his teeth he leaned forward, nose up as he spoke. Not whispering but he spoke firmly yet smoothly, warning him and others that they should keep their hands off him. Or he may forget to keep his teeth to himself. He didn't care about the chain of ass kissers, he didn't care what anyone else was in for. The only thing he cared about was when food was served, because they'd pumped his stomach for swallowing a brass button.

The boar chuckled, clearly not swayed by his cool demeanor as he groped the teen wolfs groin. Announcing how heavy his balls were.

Phoenix tisked him with a small head shake, watching the guards run over to pull the boar away, pushing him off with a scolding.

The boar stood there, sniffing his hand with a smirk.

With his own smile he encouraged the fat pig to obey the guards, but he would be sure to pay him a visit before he left. Then he turned to the leopard guard, politely demanding his one phone call.

That night Phoenix laid in bed, eyes up on the ceiling. Swaying a foot idly while his tongue searched for scraps of his supper in corners of his mouth. It was just about three in the morning, the few night shift guards would be grueling for a coffee break. The snores of delinquents not helping them stay alert.

He heard the guard make a round, before departing out the main door, clearly after his coffee. Then his door lock clicked.

Smirking he got up, pushing open the door and closing it as quietly as he could before parading over to the steps to slide down the railing. His claws making rhythmic clacks on the floor as he rounded the corner to the cell doors under his room. Whistling This Old Man, as he looked into the cell with the sleeping boar.

Continuing his tune he rummaged around his neck, deep in his fur where his nylon collar was well hidden with plastic clips. Picking at a plastic hairpin before getting to a knee, popping the hairpin in half. Continuing his tune, Nick nack paddy whack, give a dog a bone. Inserting the pin it didn't take him long to click the lock, but he already knew it would trigger a silent alarm.

However, as the door was pushed open, he also knew, he had a couple minutes to spare. Tongue over his whiskers as he stepped over to the boar and grabbed his fat snout, startling him awake. He put a finger to his own lips, picking up the pillow from under his greasy head.

After his goodbye he closed the door, padding quickly to the main door, already hearing footsteps. Standing right by the door as they unlocked it, not waiting for them to throw it open. Tossing it open he slammed his fist into the dogs throat, grabbing his nightstick as he shoved him into the other who let out a cry of alarm, cut short as the stick drew across his face with a crack.

Picking up the walkie talkie he trotted through the hall, musing as he did. Careful to avoid the crackling of other guards, aware of their location as they announced it. In the booking area he saw the guard behind the gate who fumbled for his radio.

Phoenix smirked, lacing his fingers into the steel grated gate and pulled it's lock from the concrete wall. Stepping past the officer under the light, hues of red smeared across his snout, teeth pink as it mixed with his saliva. His claws plucked the steel nails that acted as hinges, bumping the door open and making a quick trot through the quiet offices and out the front door.

At that point the lights flicked on and sirens were wailing over head. Stripping his bright clothes he dropped to all fours, galloping down the gravel drive past the security fences. Then as he bound over the down security arm he watched a black minivan squeal to a stop and the door pop open. He took no time hopping in, slamming the door behind him as they sped off.

This old man came rolling home.