FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Horse Addict

“Are you sure you want me to be here?" I asked, scratching at the back of my head. The fur was coarse and a little bit frizzy, the summer air having done no favors for it.

“Dude, yes!" Martin gasped, flustered as he poured coffee into a styrofoam cup. The red fox was already jittery without his coffee, his black paws quivering violently and threatening to spill his drink. “Man, you're like my best friend of all my best friends! I mean, you've got all your shit together!"

I wasn't so sure about that, but perhaps in the context of where we were, this might have been true. Martin's two other best friends were Nancy, who was a proud hedonist and would do everything she could to steer him away from the meeting; Charles was a good guy but like most sloths, being punctual and helping out his friends in a timely manner did not occur to him.

“Look, man, I really appreciate you being my sponsor," Martin's topaz eyes peed down at the ground, “I really want to make it work this time."

I still didn't think he had a problem, in fact I didn't quite understand what the problem this group hoped to solve was, it all seemed a little silly to me. On the other hand, Martin was my friend and I wanted to help him out and if the group turned out to be a group of quacks, I'd help bail him out.

“Hey, you'll do fine man," I clapped my paw on his shoulder.

“I just really want to get off the Horse..." he muttered and sat down on one of the folding chairs arranged in a circle.

Guilt was also eating at me, guilt for not noticing his addiction to heroin. I knew he had been acting a bit strange lately but when he came to me and told me he was addicted to “Horse," and he wanted to quit, fuck, I felt like such a jackass for not seeing the signs.

We were the first ones here, except for the leader of the event, a red fox just like Martin by the name of Thomas who looked like some kind of “Radical," youth pastor, wearing a t-shirt of some religion-friendly metal band. He stood by the door, sipping at a cup of herbal tea and waiting to greet the others.

Eventually, they started showing up and what I saw was eye-opening. I knew heroin was bad news, but I didn't expect the first guest to come walking in bow-legged in a sort of crouch. The gray fox, Harold, looked like he couldn't even stand up straight and before he awkwardly sat on his chair, he placed a thick, very soft looking, pillow on the chair. He would fidget in his seat the entire time, never quite comfortable. He had no sponsor with him.

But Harold, he was nothing compared to the next. I tried not to stare or gasp when the sandy fennec, Rick, came rolling in on his wheelchair, his back looked like a damn pretzel and he only had limited movement below his neck, just enough to press a button on the wheelchair to make it move. He was also unlucky enough to not have a sponsor and considering his condition, I was touched to see him make the journey here.

Lastly, a red fox with the exact opposite paralysis came walking on in. John was his name and I only knew that thanks to his translator, his litter-mate Sarah; and his jaw was locked open as wide as a fox could open it. Lockjaw, I figured, from a rusty needle perhaps? John was not capable of talking and Sarah seemed more than a little annoyed to be here, playing on her phone whenever John didn't need to talk.

I leaned over to Martin and whispered in his ear, “Is everyone here a fox?"

Thomas's ear twitched and he slammed his cup in the trash, “HOW DARE YOU!"

Folding back my ears, I tucked my tail between my legs, “W-what?"

The entire room stared at me incredulously, except for Martin who was covering up his face in embarrassment.

Muzzle scrunched up in a snarl, Thomas no longer looked like a lame youth pastor as he stomped towards me, “How FUCKING dare you!" he pointed a clawed finger at my nose.

“I..." I looked around the room full of angry foxes, not really sure what I said wrong, “...I'm sorry?"

“Horse addiction has PLAGUED the vulpine community for centuries, it is a SERIOUS issue!" Thomas lectured me, raising his voice for emphasis in a rather grating way. “You might be a WOLF, but you will show our community and our problems the respect it deserves!"

“I have nothing against foxes, my best friend is a fox!" I explained quite lamely. By the time I was done speaking I was beginning to feel like perhaps I really was a bit bigoted, which I maintain was not true, I had just simply misread the room badly. “I'm sorry, I didn't know heroin was such a big issue in the vulpine community."

“Heroin?" Thomas suddenly paused and tilted his head curiously.

“Whoa!" Martin suddenly sprang up and slapped me on the shoulder. “Dude, what the fuck, Carl? I'm not a junkie! I told you, I have a Horse addiction!"

I looked around the room one more time, at Harold who clearly had some lower back pains, at Rick, mangled like a pile of twisted metal; and at John with his mouth stuck wide open as a trail of drool began to drip down the corner of his mouth.

All foxes of some kind.

“Oh shit!" I exclaimed and folded my ears, hunching over in realization. “I'm sorry...I'm actually really sorry!"

“Let's just try and move past it, shall we?" Thomas filled up another cup full of herbal tea, chamomile by the smell of it, and completed the circle. “I call this meeting of Equinoholics Anonymous to order!"

For the humans who might be reading this that are a little confused: certain stereotypes exist regarding certain anthros, most of which are greatly exaggerated but some have a grain of truth. My own species, wolves, are often portrayed in the media as co-dependent on their pack and sexually aggressive in bed.

Foxes, on the other hand, have a widely spread stereotype of being sexually needy and desirous of large cocks. There was some reality to this stereotype as a lot of foxes began dating wolves because we had more girth around our cocks, but all of that changed when equine immigrants, especially horses, began moving into the country. A lot of wolves lost their vulpine mates and fox culture was never quite the same again.

I just didn't know that it was this bad.

“Who wants to go first?" Thomas asked.

Rick looked like he was trying to raise his paw but could not on account of his paralysis. Sensing that this might happen, Thomas noticed him right away and handed over the floor to the fennec.

“My name is Rick...and I'm an Equinoholic..."

I used to be a normal guy, you know. Just an average fennec with a normal fennec mate and a boring corporate job. We were gonna have kits, my mate and I, start a family, you know.

Well, all that changed one day at work.

I guess I never knew I was gay or bi or...fuck, whatever. But one day a new client came in, a rep from Fielder's Haygrass Incorporated and...my god.

I'd never seen a horse before except for on TV, the fennec community, we kind of stick to our corner of the country normally. But when I saw this horse, with his flowing black mane, chestnut brown fur, and a black suit covering up what looked like rippling muscles…

Well fuck, I finally learned why the rest of the greater vulpine community was going crazy over them. I imagined him grabbing me, pulling me into an embrace and just squeezing me with those muscles.

We were alone in the boardroom, discussing the marketing plan for his company. I was squeezing my legs together, trying to hide my cock which had freed itself from its sheath, but he noticed and reached his hand over, stroking me on the cheek.

I didn't even have to think about it. I ran over to the windows looking into reception and pulled down the blinds, then my pants. The horse, he had already taken everything off and his log was already sticking out, black with speckled pink spots.

Breathing heavily, I got on the boardroom table and lifted my tail. He took up position behind me, reaching under my shoulders with his arms and squeezing me close to him.

When his cock entered me...it was unreal. I was shocked it could even fit in a fennec's rear. But all of that didn't compare to the amazing feeling of being held tight by this powerful anthro.

The short fur covering his tight muscles brushing up against my pelt...the sheer power holding me down...the pounding of his cock…

“Tighter..." I gasped, “...hold me tighter!"

“Might be..." the horse grunted as he tightened his grip a bit more, “...dangerous..."

“I don't care! Tighter!"

He adjusted his arms so that they wrapped around my chest and began squeezing, forcing some air out of my chest. The horse never stopped thrusting for a moment.

“Tighter!"

Some of my bones began to pop.

“TIGHTER!"

In a short instant, there was a sharp pain in my back and then...nothing.

I collapsed onto the table, unable to move.

“Fuck me," I whispered, shaking my head.

“Here's the thing though," Rick continued, “that was only the first time. Kept seeing that horse, yeah, and a bunch of others. I was only partly paralyzed at that point and each time I'd get overwhelmed with the sensation and keep on demanding they squeeze me more...each time I'd break some new bone and lose some more feeling."

“Addiction to horse manifests itself in different ways," Thomas nodded, “but though you might have lost feeling in your BODY, we're going to help you regain feeling in your SOUL. So that you might never know the DREADED touch of an equine ever again."

Something about Thomas was bugging me, perhaps it was the way he emphasized words but he bothered me somehow.

“Kinda wish I had feeling in my body more..." Rick said sadly, lowering his head. “Feel bad for losing my mate over this."

“Foxes, fennec or otherwise, are a forgiving community," Thomas took a sip of tea, “once you learn to forgive YOURSELF, you'll be able to move on and start over, perhaps even looking for another FENNEC when you're ready."

Okay, I knew now, I definitely didn't like the way Thomas spoke. It almost sounded like he was trying to get Rick to hate himself.

Before I could interject though, Sarah butted in.

“Can I smoke in here?"

“No, sister vixen," Thomas coughed

“Fuck..." she rolled her eyes and took out a pair of tweezers, pinching the tip of John's tongue, which was hanging out of his maw, and lifting it back into his mouth. John immediately started trying to mumble some words out, which were indecipherable to me, and Sarah rolled her eyes once again. “My brother wants to tell his story. I'll translate, I guess..."

“Please, brother John, go ahead.

Alright, so my idiot brother has been a Equinoholic since he was a teenager. Not a week passed when I wouldn't catch him jacking off to some close-up of a horse's cock on the computer, it was seriously fucking gross having to deal with that. Mom and Dad never found out why the keyboard was always so sticky.

So it didn't surprise me in the slightest when he graduated high school and announced he was going to move out and enter into a communal marriage with some horses he met on the internet.

My brother is a sweet guy, too sweet, he'd give you his fucking jacket if you asked him on the street. He was more like a wolf, you know, always wanting to please his family and pack at the expense of his own health and sanity; no offense Carl.

So, this led into one big fucking problem. He was married to six different horses, all male, and he was desperately afraid of letting any one of them down. Every night, I swear, he'd be messaging me about how he fucked one of them and the others seemed left out or jealous that he was spending so much time with another.

Eventually I got fucking tired of this and just told him, “Why don't you just fuck them all at once?" you know, as a joke because that's fucking impossible.

Well, sure enough, my idiot brother thought, “Golly, that's a great fucking idea!" and called for a family meeting where he immediately got down on his knees and opened up his mouth.

The fucking idiot bit off more than he could chew when the first fat cock slid across his tongue but he couldn't just do them one at a time, oh no. While sucking on the massive cock, tail wagging with pleasure, he called on another of his husbands to stick their cock in him.

At this point, he was completely full but still demanded more. A third cock was thrust inside his mouth, snapping his jaw up to the limit. He was now proudly sucking off three horse cocks and couldn't be happier.

The fourth is where things started getting bad. His jaw unhinged itself to fit it in and his husbands had to do some yoga shit to even have enough room to face-fuck him.

When the fifth was inserted, his jaw locked and there was no more room for a sixth. The five husbands who were in him came in his mouth, nearly drowning his lungs with semen as he fell to the ground, coughing up cum.

He was rushed to the hospital and when I arrived, he wrote me a note that said,

“I'm sorry I couldn't please them all."

I just about felt a tear rolling down my cheek when Sarah finished her brother's story, “Fuck, it sounds like you really care about your husbands."

“Yeah, he does," Sarah groaned as she wiped a rope of drool from John's open mouth, “he's still fucking with them too, fucking idiot."

“Hey!" I exclaimed. “Sounds like he loves them! Even if his actions were a little questionable, I think-"

“LOVE!" Thomas interjected. “Can be toxic, especially when one goes outside the PROPER groups."

What the hell? Was Thomas some kind of a racist? What the hell was he talking about?

Once again, I was interrupted before I could express any concern or outrage.

“I wanna tell my story now!" Harold demanded, rubbing at his lower back. “I wanna tell my story and free myself of his fucking curse! My name is Harold and I'm not an Equinoholic, in fact, I hate the fucking animals!"

It was last year when a horse family moved into my building and ever since they did, they seemed devoted, DEVOTED to making my life miserable.

They attended Strata Meetings, good for them, but they kept demanding things like “Vegetarian snacks," the fucking arrogant pricks! The building has been foxes, foxes, foxes, and nothing more for two decades, ever since I was a kit! We're not going to change things just for them!

The male horse who led the family, he was eying my mate every time he passed us in the hallway and greeted us, CLEARLY pretending to be friendly, but in reality he was imagining his herd beating us down, tying me up and fucking my mate in front of me before taking that massive, veiny cock of his and forcing it up my ass, while he forced me to call me his master. He'd make us his new mates in his family and force us to take his cock whenever he wished.

Fucking sickening if you ask me! The fucking nerve!

Next thing you know, another horse family moved in and I KNEW they were plotting to rape us, that's what they do, you know!? They think just because they're so tall, strong, and...UGLY; they can do whatever they want!?

The horse is naturally less clever than a fox, I have papers backing this up, but they have a kind of alien cunning that allows them to plot against their betters, oh yes! So I knew that in order to protect my mate and myself, I had to learn to think like a horse.

I went to The Stables, you know, that queer horse club downtown? I'm not a queer and I sure as fuck ain't a horse, but they let me in after I smooth-talked the bouncer, a white stallion with blond, braided locks that made him look like a warrior from times long…

Ahem.

In order to learn how they think, I had to make myself look like a victim so that they could let their guard down and show their true colors. Horses are dumb brutes, so I went to a pillory set up in the middle of the club, took off my pants, lifted my tail and stuck my head and paws through the holes.

A horse, a black one dressed in matching, shiny leather, came over and in a rare moment of mercy from his kind, asked me if I wanted to be locked into place. I told him, “Yes," and he told me a...safeword...whatever the fuck that this.

Sure enough, the stupid fucks formed a lined and just as I expected, raped me!

The first one, he was mahogany colored and had a cock that looked like a damned battering ram. He split me open like a pomegranate, no fingering or lubing up like a normal fag would do! Fuck, I'm man enough to admit, I was in pain, screaming like you wouldn't ever believe! I was begging him to stop but he kept on pounding my ass with that cock of his!

His attack grew stronger, faster, and I felt droplets of sweat pouring off his taut chest. Something warm invaded my rectum and I could've just about died, right then and there. This is what the horses want, you know? They want every fox to lift their tail and just let them have their way with us!

He pulled out and I felt the thick ropes of his cum spill out across the back of my legs and onto the floor. I didn't have any time to catch my breath, another horse, a black stallion, had slammed his powerful hands on my back and was already grinding the flat head of his cock up against my wet rear.

Begging for mercy wasn't working, so I went with a different strategy to try and infiltrate the horse community.

“Oh no, Mr. Horsey, please don't stick that there!" I cooed deviously, flashing him a wink to keep up the act.

The black stallion shot his cock into my ass with the force of a freight train, knocking the wind out of my chest.

“Oh god...YES!" I screamed as each thrust created new waves of pleasure…all according to plan, of course.

“C'mon foxy!" the horse grunted. “I wanna hear you yiff."

Not gonna lie, I don't actually know what that word means, but I tried my best attempt, letting loose a submissive, sensual screech of pleasure.

“Aahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" I cried out as his load shot into me.

At this point, I was becoming a master at fooling the dumb stallions and decided to keep up the act. Little did they know, I wasn't truly a victim of their animalistic urges but a spy! A fox in the stables!

I must have taken fifteen horse cocks up my ass that night but that wasn't enough! I needed to learn more, so I went back to The Stables another night, then another…

And then another…

Harold's story had left me in awe, an expression that the entire audience of the meeting seemed to share, even Thomas. I had never met anyone in such denial about...just about everything about them. As reprehensible as his racism and homophobia was, I couldn't help but feel a little sad for him.

“If you ask me, Harold," I began and cleared my throat, “I think you've got some other things you need to work out before coming here. I think you're in the closet ab-"

“Wolf, you're a canine, very high up on the hierarchy of species and in my opinion, an honorary vulpine," Harold winced as he rubbed his back, “but if you don't shut yer yap, I'll shut if for ya!"

Fucking hell, I can't say I didn't try.

“Carl might have a POINT," Thomas proclaimed, “Harold, you've expressed some CONCERNING things in your story and you need to understand this group is not about hatred of horses."

I nodded, as did much of the crowd.

“God loves foxes and horses!" Thomas continued to sermonize and for a moment I felt I liked the guy, ignoring all my previous concerns. However, then he pressed on. “But he decreed they should live separately, but in peace."

My mouth went agape. I should have known the moment the true purpose of this club was announced that perhaps it had less than noble intentions about the subject of species-mixing but as that was a rather outdated notion I didn't really consider it. As far as I'm concerned, love is love.

“What the fuck is this all abou-"

Thomas ignored me and turned to Martin, “Please, tell us your story, if you will."

“Alright," Martin sighed, his pupils dilating and his hackles raising, “a-a-alright..."

I put aside my anger at Thomas and Harold so that I could focus good vibes towards my friend. I placed Martin's smaller paw in mine and held it.

“I got you," I whispered.

Corrupt intentions aside, all three of the stories I heard so far were of people who needed some kind of help and had suffered some personal harm. If Martin was suffering through something similar, I didn't want to blow him off and cause a ruckus before he had his say.

Thomas could wait.

“My name is Martin and I'm an Equinoholic…"

Ever since I was a kit, I've suffered badly from anxiety. Back in high school, hell, college even, I never asked anyone out, never so much as invited anyone to hang out because there was always this little voice in the back of my had that whispered:

You're a burden.

They're just gonna say no.

You fucking loser.

B-but I still had friends, course they always made the first move! Carl here, he taught me to be more confident in myself, even just a little bit, that's why I asked him to be my sponsor.

I remembered one time we went to a club and he just floated around the place, asking out every guy or girl that caught his fancy. Most of the time he got rejected but he was always so happy when he struck gold.

I wanted to be more like that.

That's why...when a horse asked me out I said yes.

His fur was as white as snow and his jaw was wide and powerful, especially for a horse. I met him while he was doing yoga shirtless in the park during the summer, sweat glistening and trailing among the short furs on his chest. His mane was long, straight, white and it shone in the sun. I couldn't keep my eyes off him and he noticed, oh yeah. I didn't even notice the clip-clop of his bare hooves on the pavement until he was right in front of me.

Well, I froze, ha ha ha...I couldn't say anything, I just kept my tail tucked between my leg and hunched over like an anxious fox. That should have repelled most people but this horse, my “Daniel," was different, he could tell I was interested but was too afraid to express myself.

He invited me out to dinner that night and I couldn't help but accept! We went to one of those hipster restaurants with all the retro furniture and decorations, I had the bacon burger and he ordered a caesar salad and a haygrass smoothie.

He is such a charmer! The entire time we were there eating, he'd try and play footsie under the table, or he'd talk about how handsome I look in the light of the refurbished 1940s lamp on the table, or he'd lean in, flare his nostrils and say…

“You smell so good tonight..."

I'm not made of stone. We went to a hotel and I let him do whatever he wanted to me...I lifted my tail for the first time in my life. He was gentle...powerful but gentle. When I wanted him to slow down or my anxiety acted up, he listened.

I promised him after we were done that I'd call him but…

Agh...it felt wrong! My anxiety started acting up again and it kept telling me that I was just a loose fox for him to fuck, that I was useless!

My chest...got tight and I thought I was having a heart attack! I don't remember being taken to the hospital, but when I recovered there they told me it was a panic attack and recommended me to a psychological center with all kinds of programs.

I remember seeing the list, seeing stuff like: CBT, Gestalt Therapy, Psychoanalysis, Art Therapy, Music Therapy…

Horse Therapy was the one my eyes immediately went to.

I checked off that box and was sent down a hallway. I thought that surely this would cure me of my uncomfortable attraction and then I could be back to being...well, still anxious, but not having a panic attack at least!

When I entered the door, I found that it led to a small field that was circled by wooden fences and had hay bales piled up in lieu of seats.

That was all pretty strange, but it was nothing compared to my therapist…

Even wearing adorably dorky glasses and wearing a tweed suit, I'd recognize that muscular, snowy-furred body anywhere. Still, I twitched my nose as I sniffed, taking in his earth musk, remembering that one night we shared together.

Daniel, he told me that he couldn't treat me.

I asked him why.

He told me that he wanted to see me again, go on another date, and that would violate his code of ethics.

I went silent.

We were quiet for the rest of the session, occasionally catching a glance but never speaking a word.

When it all ended, he told me that I'd know where to find him.

I couldn't say anything...I felt so stupid.

I didn't want to get hurt anymore and so…

Here I am…

Martin was slumped over when he finished, almost on the verge of crying.

“Such negative EMOTIONS come up with a RELATIONSHIP such as this, one that is DOOMED for heartbreak."

“I was so stupid for even thinking..." Martin trailed off.

“With TIME and EFFORT, we can make sure you never FEEL lust towards an equine ever ag-"

“Fuck that!"

I stood up, immediately catching the stares of the entire group. Rick and John had limited movement, but even they had managed a look of shock, perhaps slight outrage. Harold's face on the other hand was wracked with anger, no doubt sensing my forthcoming rant was not, in the slightest, going to be in favor of his regressive beliefs.

“Sit DOWN!" Thomas slapped his paw on the arm of his chair. His chair was the only one with arms, I just noticed that now.

“No! The horses are not anybody's problem here, you're just using them as scapegoats!"

“You're not a FOX, you don't-"

“Man, fuck that! You all don't have a clue!" I pointed a claw at Rick and the wheelchair-bound fennec's ears flipped back. “You bit off more than you could chew in a moment of lust and I'm sorry about your injuries, but there's ways of training to prevent those!"

“Maybe..." Rick grumbled.

“And you!" I pointed at John and his locked jaw began to quiver slightly. “You love your husbands so much that you hurt yourself trying to please them! Now you want to throw away the love instead of trying to learn how to please them without hurting yourself? You're looking for answers in the wrong place!"

John made some mumbling noise and before Sarah could translate, I had already moved onto Harold.

“And Harold, fuck! I don't even know where to begin with you!" I paused, the racist fox scornfully scowling. “But you are a gay fox who clearly loves the fuck out of horses and are using your hateful bullshit to hide that. The only time I saw you smile tonight was when you were talking about your time at the club!"

Harold said nothing, only frowning and fidgeting in his seat.

“Martin," I slapped my paw on his shoulder, “Daniel sounds like a great guy and I'd love to meet him. I don't think it's too late for you two."

“But..." Martin looked over to Thomas for a split-second, “...it's too risky! We're so different, what if-"

“Fuck the 'what ifs,' you'll never be happy if you don't try! And even if it doesn't work, you get back up and you try again, to hell with what anyone says!"

“Dude..."

“I have an announcement to make!" Harold suddenly stood up straight and tossed his hemorrhoid pillow to the side. “I'm gay!"

“We know man! But that's great!" I said, for once feeling something other than pity for the gray fox.

“And I'm going to apply for a job at The Stables right away!"

“Wait!" Thomas pleaded.

Harold was gone and there was nothing Thomas could do to stop him. The gray fox was practically skipping for joy, heedless of any lower back pain he might have had.

“Yeah, you know what?" Rick grumbled and swiveled around on his electric wheelchair. “Horsecocks the only thing that gives me feeling down there, I'm not giving it up, just gonna be a bit more careful, you know?"

A light hmmmm whispered through the room as Rick wheeled away. Before Thomas could make one final plea, John loudly began to grunt and Sarah slid her phone into her bag and stood up.

“My stupid brother says that he wants to go home and be with his husbands, we're getting the fuck out of here," Sarah flipped off Thomas, “the donuts here fucking suck, by the way!"

“Wait...fellow foxes..." Thomas was now breathless as he was shoved to the side by Sarah when he tried to block the door, “...wait...you have to...stop..."

“Come on," I nodded to Martin, “lets go."

“Yeah," Martin wiped at his eyes, “I knew you'd be a great sponsor, Carl!"

I helped my friend to his feet and we made our way out, I stopped behind Thomas while Martin continued on his way out.

“I don't know your story, Thomas, and I don't think you're gonna tell me," I crossed my arms, “but I don't think you should consider species to be a barrier to happiness, not for you and not for anybody else."

“GET OUT!" Thomas shrieked, refusing to look up at me, content to stare at the ground in sorrow.

“I really hope you get better, I really do."

I joined my friend and left Thomas alone in the ruins of his own organization.

Martin and Daniel reconnected, I'm happy to report. Both of them started dating and the few times I saw them together I could tell there was something real between them.

My work here was done though, I stopped my friend from making the biggest mistake of his life and I thought that was reward enough.

I was wrong.

Martin had invited me to a bar one night to have some drinks with Daniel and his friends. I was a little shocked to hear that it was at The Stables, having never heard of it before Harold's story, but I went there.

The place was significantly tamer than the racist gray fox had made it out to be. It was really just a rather generic nightclub with loud music, dim lights, and strobes. There were a few small rooms for sex, but apparently you had to go out of your way to get access to those, including paying a steep fee, which considering Harold's demeanor, it didn't surprise me at all that he was putting in extra effort to get fucked.

In fact, I ran into him on the way in. He was serving drinks and casting lusty winks at all the attendees, mostly equines of some sort. He looked happy and you know what? I was happy for him.

“Carl!" Martin called out from the bar.

I made my way over to Martin and the white stallion, who was wearing a very form-fitting tank-top that didn't cover up an inch of his taut muscles.

It was only when I got to the bar that I realized the horse was not Daniel.

This one's snout was more broad and somehow he was even more muscular than Daniel. He flashed me a smile over Martin's head, one that spoke a million words.

“Carl, meet David!" Martin jumped off of the stool and David immediately shifted over, sitting next to me and taking my hand in his firm grip. “He's Daniel's brother!"

“I wanted to meet the nice young wolf who helped my brother's partner out," David took my paw and nuzzled the tip of his snout up against it.

“I'll let you two...get to know each other! Me and Daniel will be on the dance floor!" Martin walked away with a smile and a thumbs-up.

The horse was truly stunning and his wavy, white mane shimmered in the flashing lights of the club.

“Couldn't let my own friend make the biggest mistake of his life," I smiled and ordered a drink.

“What gave him such worries, anyway?" David took a long chug of beer from a huge, horse-sized mug.

“Some awful club for foxes that were uncomfortable with interspecies relations, especially with horses. I got him out of that."

“Hm..." David mumbled, “...never been a big fox guy myself..."

“...wolves on the other hand..."

David flashed me a knowing wink.