FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

The school seems almost deserted in the early-morning light as I sit in the passenger seat of the nice car, giving the single-story brick building a good scan before turning back to grab my backpack.

"See, honey?" the pink and white kitsune next to me in the driver's seat baps my leg with her padded fingers, "Arriving early means no one will see you being dropped off by your mother."

I pull the heavy bag into my lap and sigh. She's my stepmother, but after spending all summer with her, after her and dad got married, I can't help but call her mom. She can get a bit doting, though.

"You were right, Mom," I admit dutifully, "thank you for getting me here early."

"Such a good boy," she leans forward and gives me a kiss on the forehead, "Now remember what I told you about this place. Don't let the other students mistreat you for being human; be kind, honest, and join a pack. You'll have plenty of friends in no time!"

"Okay, mom."

"Do you have your schedule?"

"Yup," I dig out the blue folder of papers from my bag and show it to her.

"And a map?"

"Yeah."

"And your gym clothes?"

"Uh...the paper said I'd be issued some today."

"Just checking that you read them," she makes her narrow eyes even narrower with a smug grin underneath. "I have my spin class today, so your father will be picking you up this afternoon."

"Okay," I say, getting out and throwing on my plain black backpack.

"Bye honey, I love you!" She waves her white-furred hand at me.

"Bye mom, I love you too," I say, not too loud, and turn to face the school, hands pressed against the straps of my backpack. I take a deep breath and flex my legs a bit, psyching myself up for my first day of 11th grade at Westgate High. As a transfer student. As one of three humans in a majority-anthro school. Another deep breath, I tell myself I can handle this.

The rest of the student body filters in and fills the halls while I find my locker, some of the other kids giving me weird or curious looks, but nobody really confronts me. They're all as busy as I am. My locker is down some abandoned hall, near some darkened classrooms and an exit with dust all over the doors. It'll be a long trip between this and my classes, so I'll probably have to put more books than usual and lug this thing around. I pull out the blue folder with my schedule and look it over. Orientation day is different than the rest of the year, but similar to my last school. We go around to each of our classes and get settled in, each one kinda short. Good thing I made sure to get a folder for each one, things are going to be nice and organized this time. First up is Home Room. Usually it would be at the end of the day, swapping with P.E. every other day, but today it comes up first. Looking at the map and schedule in my locker, I double-check the combination before closing it and nearly jump out of my skin.

"Hey dude," she smirks at me, clearly getting a kick out of my fright.

The locker next to mine is open and a short cheetah girl is right next to me. Big hoop earrings hang off rounded ears, and purple eye makeup is on her kinda droopy eyes. As my eyes go down I notice she's wearing a really baggy and open hoodie, which bunches up around her neck and wrists over a pink v-neck shirt and a really short pair of shorts. She's also not wearing any shoes. A quick scan and I notice that none of them are wearing shoes, just walking around barefoot.

"Hey-hey there." Dammit, I stuttered a bit there.

"You the new human student?" she asks and leans to hang from one arm off her locker door. She sounds like talking is such a chore to her.

"Yeah. I'm Alistair Roberts," I put out a hand for a shake, "nice to meet you...?"

"I'm Jasmine," she rolls her head to one side and ignores my hand. I let it drop. "Guess we're neighbors this year."

"Yeah..." I can't think of anything else to say, thinking about the shoes thing. She's more like a sloth than a cheetah, and just stares at me. "Well, uh, gotta go. See you later.

"Later dude."

The floor is carpeted everywhere and muffles the bare feet of everyone else hustling and bustling around me. Some of the anthros here are enormous, I swear those horse anthros are seven feet tall. I hurry to make it to my homeroom a few minutes before the first bell. None of that anime trope for me where I come in late and make a spectacle. This year I'm not going to stand out--at least as much as I can being human. Not in the front with the teacher's pets, not in the back with the troublemakers, I'll pick a seat as close to center as possible.

Just inside the open door the all the little conversations between the other students die. Everyone who's already sitting down turn to stare at me, and the silence hits me like a wall. There's a couple mice (or rats, I can't tell), a rabbit, and a australian shepherd sitting in the front row seats already, a few cats, a lioness, and a dog in the middle with some open seats, and in the back are the really big ones. I don't know if it's because they're huge and block the view of the smaller species or if they're troublemakers, but all the back seats are already taken by really big ones. Snake, horse, bull, hyena, each bigger than the last. The teacher finally notices the silence and turns a round fuzzy ear my direction, looking away from her blocky computer monitor and over her half-moon glasses to me.

"Come in, come in," her fuzzy paws beckon, "I've been expecting you, Mr. Roberts." Mrs. Xing, an older tiger anthro, grabs a sheaf of papers and gives me one of her handouts. She motions to the empty seats in the middle of the room as the whispers immediately start up. Play it cool, play it cool, all the eyes don't bother me. "Please sit down, anywhere will be fine."

"Seat's taken," a striped arm covers one, "I'm saving it for my friend."

"..." the massive snake dude doesn't uncurl his tail from the seat in front of his.

"Attention everyone," she continues as I pick the one in front of the bull, the only herbivore, "please find your seats, take one of these and pass them down." One last cat scrabbles into the door before bell goes off. Guess she really was saving that seat.

"Now that you're all settled in, welcome to your first day of 11th grade here at Westgate High School. My name is Mrs. Xing, your homeroom teacher, and I'm sure by now you've all noticed we have someone new this year. Please give a warm Westgate welcome to Alistair Roberts, our third human student!"

The rest of the class just kinda looks at me. At least she didn't make me stand up and take a bow or something.

"Well," her ears go flat and she goes back to her desk, "we have a lot to go over today. Please look at the orientation notes I handed out. This is your homeroom, and is normally at the end of the day every other day, so you'll have time to ask for help with homework, use it as study time, or whatever else you need to do. Please don't hesitate to ask me or any of your fellow students for help..." She starts to drone on with the standard high school orientation stuff. It all kinda blurs together until the last line. "Also, please remember that you have the first week to form or join a pack and register it with the school."

"Mrs. Xing," I raise my hand, "what's a pack?"

That got more of the whispers starting, shocked that the human doesn't know about an anthro-specific practice. The bunny actually raised her floppy ears to me, while someone behind me says I'm dead meat.

"Oh, my. Is this your first school with a pack system?"

"Yes."

"Well, let's all treat it as a bit more review. In a non-human school, we use something called the Pack System to better prepare our students for social life outside of high school, encourage friendships and networking, and to reduce social friction between groups. Each pack must consist of at least 3 people, no more than 8, and they must all be in the same grade as you. You'll pick a leader, some call it the 'alpha,' 'matriarch,' 'chief,' or some other species- or kingdom-specific name. The leader will be responsible for his or her pack and practice good leadership skills, while the other members will do their best to be good representatives of their pack, and practice good followership skills. Your grades won't have an effect on the others in your pack, but will collectively earn or lose privileges, and some punishments may affect all of you. You have one week to form, join, and find the right pack for you. During this grace you don't need to fill out any paperwork to join or leave, you won't affect your pack's privileges, and can learn more about who you'd like to be with. Once this week is over, you'll need to fill out a form that any teacher has to register it with the school. Some school functions may even require them."

"What happens to someone who doesn't join a pack?"

"Unfortunately," she sighs, "lots of visits to the school counselors. Best not to think about it and just find a pack to join. I'm sure someone as exotic as a human like you will do fine, Alistair."

"Drugs," a deep voice from the bull behind me murmurs, "or homelessness, or prison."

Well, shit.

"Who wants someone no one wants in their pack?" The lithe housecat next to me asks. "Maybe you can join whatever one Dreight does. You'd be one human away from an all-human pack."

Who? I haven't seen another human since I got here. I'm taking some advanced classes this semester, maybe I can find some people in those who'd help me out academically.

"That scratchin' post ain't right in the head," he responds, "better off keepin' away from him. No good'll come of it. Find you some nice, quiet herbivores, make it easy on yerself."

"Humans are carnivores, they'll never--"

"A-hem!" Mrs. Xing interrupts, "Miss Clements, humans are technically omnivores, though they lack the same digestive capabilities as ruminants. I know they're still new to you, but I'm sure the humans in our school would appreciate it if you kept such rumors to yourself..." Without even looking at her watch she turns to look at the clock a second before the bell goes off. "Please remember to drop off a copy of your schedule in the box at the door on your way out!"

Packs are definitely a new thing. I know at my old school cliques were common, but gangs were taken very seriously by the faculty. What were they trying to do here? Are the insticts of anthros to form packs really that strong they the school just leaned into it? On top of my first day at school here and figuring out my schedule and classes, now I've got this to worry about. Maybe I should find an herbivore group, or at least one that isn't full of people who tower over me. Does this mean bullying isn't a thing here?

"Who," the owl teacher at the front of the room turns his head past ninety to look at me, "are you? I know the faces of all my students, and you aren't one of them."

"Uh..." well I'm still not late, but I'm getting the staring treatment from the kids that are already seated, "sorry, I'm looking for AP Biology."

"Ah-hah, yes. Mrs. Tabitha's class was moved last-minute. You'll find her down that hall..." now his head's way past ninety, pointing over his shoulder with a thumb, "first right, second door on the left. You have plenty of time, no running in the halls!"

I knew owls could do that, but man it was creepy to see in-person. AP Bio was taught by an older anthro rabbit who looked like an oversized plush. After that is Trig, taught by a fox named Mr. Hermann, and then English with a old bulldog named Mr. Pelton.

"Now..." he drawls in a tired english accent, "I am sure that, while the lot of you are quite eager to plumb the depths of the beautiful English Canon of literature, it is my duty to inform you, as I do every year, of the rules by which we govern our luncheon periods here at the prestigious institution of Westgate High School, one that each and every one of you should be thankful to attend, and therefore put forward your utmost efforts to succeed in your academic endeavors despite suffering what must feel to you as the aeons between the start of my class and the moment at which you can slake your body's basest appetites." I don't think I caught him taking one breath that whole time, but he only seems to end it to suck in enough air to inflate a kiddie pool. For an english teacher he could really run-on a sentence. "As you pass through the those gates to sate yourselves, take note of the order hidden within the hustle and bustles of what first appears to be mismanaged chaos and find on the far right of the cafeteria those foods best suited for herbivores and ruminants, which is placed precisely distant enough to prevent the odorous despoiling of their delicate sensibilities from the carnivores' most essential nutrition and, in the center, with permission, are foods which our brave institution has seen fit to serve now that the student body includes humans, such as certain peppers, sugar-free sweeties, and avocados, the presence of which will be marked with a bright red tray you would do very well to avoid, should you wish to prevent a very long trip to the lavatory or the in the worst-case scenario the School Clinician's office. Now depart from me, children, gain an advantage on your peers in the quest for sustenance."

I kind of lost track there, and the other students look at me and each other for a moment, before Mr. Pelton points his hand at the door.

"Off with you, begone I say, to lunch!"

Oh thank god. Letting us go early lets us make it down the long hall to the cafeteria at about the same time as everyone else. I go straight to the carnivore line to see what they have, and boy do they have a selection. Hamburgers, hot dogs, all sorts of cheeses, even raw meats. The deserts here look great too, so I grab a banana pudding. In the center, where the horseshoe-shape of the two lines meat, is a small red display behind glass with tiny plates of "human-only" food. From my spot in line all I can see is a few brightly-colored peppers and an avocado. I think I'll pass, don't want to scare off anyone during my first lunch.

I take my orange tray and get greeted by the "smile" of the principle, a old wolf named Mr. Redgrave.

"Ah, Mr. Roberts," his teeth look almost too big for his face as he stops me, "how's your first day going? Good, I hope."

"It's...going okay."

"Good, I'm certain you'll fit right in. If not, you just let me know and I'll take care of it. Our other human, Mr. Dreight, took a while to 'get into the groove,' as you kids say, but he's done well."

"Right."

"Well don't let me stop you, go find a seat, orange trays sit on that side of the room please."

I nod and go look for a spot after taking a deep breath. The room is mostly round tables with chairs around them, save for a few long rectangular ones at the ends. There's a big gap between the herbivores and the carnivores sections. Just chill out, don't panic, not gonna repeat that freshman year incident, just find a table and sit. Maybe I can join a pack this way.

The dog table, the rectangular table closest to me, looks at me when I pause next to their table.

"Seat's taken," one of them shakes their head at me, "don't want the same trouble the last human gave us." I just nod and move on.

"We got enough men to take care of," the lioness at the next table tells me.

"Not gonna fall for that movie bullshit, human," the wolves tell me.

"Keep movin, warmblood," the snakes say.

"Oh hey!" the one other human greets me from the cats' table, "spots open!"

"Uh, thanks." I sit down at a table full of housecats, but I don't recognize any of them from my classes. They stare at me for a second before going back to their conversations.

"I'm Joseph Dreight," he says and holds out his hand. The guy's pretty scrawny, and his hand feels kinda clammy when we shake, but I guess he's okay. "Welcome to the cat's table. Still looking for a pack, right?"

"Y-yeah, I'm Alistair."

"Well this one's great, accepting of humans, too! Bella over there is our pack leader, I joined them last year." He points to the white-furred housecat anthro sitting across from him. She's got flowing black hair, a tight pink shirt on her slender frame, with white fur puffing out from the sleeves, all immaculately brushed. Her blue eyes are sizing me up like a piece of meat.

"Do you always dress like that?" she asks with a pointed claw. I look down at my clothes, nervous for a moment, but it's just a plain forest-green long-sleeved shirt, jeans, and white sneakers.

"I guess, yeah."

"What a shame. If you want to be part of this pack you're going to have to do better, but I guess we have all year."

"Okay?"

"Ever since Dan 'the Man' Jenkins enrolled here," Joseph explains, "everyone's a bit worried about letting a human into their packs. But Bella's different! She'll take you on."

"I know opportunity when I see it," she says, "taking on both of the only humans into my pack will look great on my college application. Plus you don't wind up an omega."

"What happened with Dan?"

"What didn't happen with Dan?" Joseph answers, "you're probably better-off not knowing. Most of the rumors are probably true anyway." He picks up his cup to take a drink, but a cat passing by gives him a shove and causes it to spill, giving the two walking past a laugh. The other cats at the table join in, while Bella just sighs.

"Who did--" he sputters, but Bella interrupts him.

"Joseph, what have I told you about sitting on the inside?"

"But they--"

"No buts! Get here earlier and sit where you're supposed to and that will stop happening. Go get some napkins and clean yourself up, and while you're up get me a coke."

"Yes ma'am..." Joseph sighs and stands up to go.

"Alistair, right?" she looks at me.

"Alistair Roberts, nice to--"

"Give Becky that pudding cup. You don't need the extra calories."

"And I do?" the cat I assume is Becky asks.

"Can't have you being thinner than the pack leader," Bella rubs the hair near her shoulders with her fuzzy hands, "so eat up. And don't give it to Stacy like last time, I'll know."

I tilt my head a bit. I love banana pudding. "Do I...have to?"

"You want to join a pack right? That means listening to the pack leader, which is me."

"But--"

"I saw you get rejected, like, five times. I'm willing to take you in, so just hand it over and get used to it."

I stare at her for a moment, weighing my options. I'm pretty sure I'd have to become a vegetarian if I wanted to join any of the herbivore packs, all the others I tried flat-out rejected me...Fuck, I don't want to do that walk twice in one day. It's just banana pudding, I can get double next time.

"Alright, here," I hand it over.

"Good to hear. We can deal with..." she points a finger and twirls it around at me, "...all of that later. Not a lot of rules for humans in my pack, just be quiet, do as I say, don't get in trouble, and don't embarrass me. Clear?"

"Clear."

"Good, now eat."

I grit my teeth and dig in, my food no longer hot by now. Joseph comes back with a plastic cup and hands it to Bella before sitting down, looking much dryer now.

"Is it gonna be like this all year?" I ask him in a whisper.

"Hey, it's not so bad," he whispers back between bites into what looks like a veggie sandwich, "could be worse, you know. Look at that kid over there." His finger guides my eyes to a scruffy-looking gray cat in a dirty hoodie walking down the hall with a tray, away from the cafeteria. One of the kids near the edge throws a wadded-up wrapper at him, and he hisses in reply to their laughter. "You wanna wind up like him?"

Fuuuuuck me.

I had to wait until they were all done with lunch and take their trays back for them, as a way to "show I'm willing to listen." What a bitch, she made me seriously consider going vegetarian. Well, first class after lunch is Home Economics, maybe we'll get a desert out of that. It's the standard setup of pairs at tiny little kitchen counters, each with an oven and range. Our bovine teacher, Mrs. Cain, brought five trays of homemade cookies. She gave us each a plate, told us to relax, and let us talk a bit while she got stuff prepared. It really helped my mood, but I'm still pretty sour about lunch. I nearly got there late, and the only spot was right here next to a splotchy-looking dog. Her tail is actually wagging, though.

"Hey, what's up?" she's smiling at me, showing off her sharp teeth, "I'm Tinsae."

"I'm Alistair," I offer my hand, "nice to meet you." She takes it, but pulls me forward and leans in at the same time, sniffing my neck and hair. I nearly fall off the high stool these use as seats.

"Hmm, you don't smell like cats," she says and doesn't let go of my hand. She's got a slight accent I can't quite place, but I'm too distracted by the grip.

"What?"

"You don't smell like cats. I thought you joined Bella's pack, with Joe."

"I...guess I kinda did. Not really, I don't know." I pull a bit on my hand, but she's still not giving up.

"Did they not have packs at your old school?"

"No, it was majority-human school."

"How do they tell who the problem kids are?"

"Mostly..." I give my hand a stronger tug, but her grip just tightens and I can feel her claws against my skin, "it's just the ones getting in trouble the most."

"What?" she tilts her head, "want me to let go of your hand?"

"Uh, kinda want it back, yeah."

"Too bad, you gave it to me," She somehow grins even wider.

"Why? Just let go."

"No, I don't think I will. You scared I might scratch that bare-naked skin all over you? Don't rip it away and you'll be fine."

"Well, I'm right-handed and trying to eat..."

"Just use your left. How'd you wind up at a school like this anyway? Are you an exchange student?"

"No..." I snake my hand under our arms to grab a cookie, "my dad remarried, Kitsune woman. We moved here at the end of the last school year." She jerks down with her hand just in time for my arm to bump into the cookie, nearly making me drop it.

"Really? Why don't you smell like her then?"

"I uh, don't know."

"Whatever. Hey, is your hand sweating, like a horse?"

"Yeah, humans sweat when they're hot."

"Ooh, horses sweat. Are you part horse?" She raises her eyebrows at me.

"Uhh..."

"Or maybe you really are scared. Are you scared that people think we're an item?"

"I just met you."

"Ooh, think Bella will approve? I bet she'll be mad."

"Wait, really? Is that a 'pack' thing?"

"Her pack, her rules."

"Oh please no..." There goes any chance of getting a girlfriend. Not that I had much chance as a human anyway, but it was nice to hold out a little bit of hope.

"Better find a different one by the end of the week."

"Sure, easy, totally."

"Alright class," Mrs. Cain announces, "come up and get one of each of the items up here and take it back to your stations, we're going to get them ready for the semester."

"Well go on," Tinsae says, still holding my hand. Does she want me to pull her up there?

"Uhh, why don't you go?"

"No," she smiles at me.

"C'mon, let go."

"Oh Tinsae," Mrs. Cain calls out, "humans don't shake that long, stop playing around and let go of the poor boy's hand."

"Yes ma'am!" She finally relents, but her tail's wagging even faster now. I take the opportunity to get a break from her and head up to grab our stuff.

"This is my favorite class, you know," Tinsae says when I get back, "I took it for the easy A. I heard humans can't taste or smell very well, so I'll carry you through this. Just don't start a fire."

"Sure," I sigh. This day is wearing on me. I didn't really feel like talking the rest of the class, and Tinsae seemed fine with that.

Next was history with Mr. Smith, an ancient tortise who was probably there for it, nothing really special. At least we didn't have to partner up or anything, just sit and listen.

After that was P.E. at the gym. I came through the doors and was greeted by the sight of the biggest red wolf I've ever seen in my life, trunk arms crossed and scowling. Dude had to be at least 8 feet tall. I lined up against the wall with all the other kids and waited for him to start.

"I am your Physical Education teacher," he rumbled and started to pace, "and my name is Mr. Skollson. A direwolf, for those of you new here. It is my job to increase your physical fitness and overall health for the next year." He reached the end of the line and turned to come back. Next to him, the four-foot mice and five-foot rabbits looked downright tiny. I had expected him to sound like a drill sergeant or something, but everything just sounded like he was telling us the weather in a loud, deep voice. "In my class there are three simple rules that you will abide by. One: do as I say, when I say it; otherwise you're free to relax. Two: you will put in the effort. I know not all of you measure up to your peers and I do not expect it, but you will not slack off. Three: my class will get your blood pumping, and you may engage in matches to establish dominance,"

Wait, what?

He stopped in front between a rather large hyena girl and a bull, "Only for those of you who do. But you will. not. draw. blood. in my gymnasium or on school grounds. In the real world, scratching or clawing to draw blood is the difference between a normal social interaction and the involvement of law enforcement, and as growing adults, you will be held accountable here. Should any of you want to wrestle me, or behave in a way that requires it, feel free to request it, but I recommend looking at my trophy wall next to my office before you do. If you break any of my three simple rules, then one way or another, I will make you feel pain, through exercise or otherwise, and no one in authority will object to my methods. If you follow my rules, your life will improve. Are there any questions?"

None of us raised our hands. He reached down to pull out a clipboard from one of the cardboard boxes next to his feet.

"Good, come up when I call you name to get your uniforms and your locker combination. Proceed to your locker room and change, then line up on this wall again."

I got my uniforms in a clear plastic bag, along with my lock and a little slip of paper with the combo on it and headed inside to change.

"Hey," I ask the rabbit behind me, "is, uh...is the wrestling for dominance thing common? Does it happen a lot?"

"Meh, it can be," he shrugs, "but it usually only happens between the larger species. Nobody really sees the point with us smaller guys. We don't like to make waves anyway."

"Uhh, do I count as a larger species?"

"That's a good question," he looked me up and down. The fuzzy brown rabbit was only about 5 feet tall, minus the ears. "Don't know about humans, you don't have any natural defenses like us, but you're not exactly small, either."

"Pshh," the tank of a bull next to me scoffs, "yeah he is." I turn to see him eyeing my junk.

"Dude!" I turn away and stumble a bit pulling up my shorts.

"Does everything really all hang out like that all the time, or are you just happy to see me?" Rocky, I think his name is, asks.

"Humans don't have sheaths," I sputter.

"Soft all over, aintcha? Don't worry about it, leave the wrasslin' up to the big boys and girls. I'll get it sorted out soon enough."

Again I'm reminded that I'm the only one wearing shoes around here. Even the ones with hooves, like the bull, aren't wearing any. The sneakers should be fine for now, but I think I'm gonna have to ask Dad for a pair just for gym class.

I wind up against the wall next to the rabbit I talked to in the locker room.

"I bet there's a match the first day," he says with his eyes darting up and down the line, "always is when you've got so many preds."

"Count me out."

"Pair up for evaluation!" Mr. Skollson yells.

"Wanna pair up?" I ask the rabbit next to me, "I'm Alistair."

"Sure, I'm Tom."

Mr. Skollson puts us through a series of test to set a benchmark, each of us taking a turn while the other records the results. First is the 20 laps back and forth across the basketball court in the center of the gym. It's weird to see how some of the anthros run, some of them have really weird strides. The bovines and horses have a sort of trot to them, seeing as how they're somehow moving around on hooves, while the other mammals have a bit of a bounce from running on the balls of their feet. Tom is almost hopping each step, but he's still faster than me. That hyena girl runs like a hellhound, hunching over while looking ahead, massive arms pumping on either side of an evil grin full of big, sharp teeth with her tongue hanging out. Even Rocky, the biggest dude in our class who's paired up with her, looks like he thinks she's running him down and takes a couple steps back from the line.

"Stuff of nightmares right there," Tom says when I finish, "dude, are you sweating?"

"Yeah," I huff, "humans sweat...like horses, I guess."

"Dude," Tom covers his nose, "you stink!"

"Well I am sweating, Tom. They kinda go hand-in-hand."

"Sit-ups next!" Mr. Skollson yells, "find your places."

"Blegh, no, I mean you smell like a carnivore."

"You saying horse sweat doesn't stink?"

"Oh god," he complains and wraps one of his long floppy ears over his face to cover his nose, but still sets up near my ankles as I get lay down to start the sit-up portion of the test. "They definitely don't smell like you do!"

"Fine, I'll remember my deodorant next time. Just...try not to barf on me."

Tom calls out his count of my work when the teacher calls. I did twenty-five, Tom did thirty, but some of the other muscle-bound anthros got over fifty. That hyena girl laughs and corrects Rocky's count, saying she got more, and he relents after Mr. Skollson stares at him.

"So that rumor was true about humans," Tom mutters when I get ready for pushups.

"Which rumor?"

"Begin!" the teacher shouts.

"That you can't smell anything. No snout, no sense of smell."

"It's just not as strong as yours," I groan, "no big deal."

"Yes it is."

I collapse after just twenty and just lay there panting. "After high school, I'm never doing pushups again."

"No offense dude, but next time pair up with a predator, Alistair. Or maybe someone with a cold."

Tom only does fifteen, which makes me feel a little better, but then I'm also comparing myself to a fuzzy five-foot-nothing bunny.

"Heh, heh heh heh," the hyena girl starts giggling after Rocky calls out her score, "It's--hah!--It's fifty-eight, heheheh, you dumbass! Ah-ha-ha-ah!" Her giggling gets louder and higher until it reaches that typical high-pitched hyena laugh and she stifles herself with a hand over her mouth.

"Quit yer yappin," Rocky squares up in a wide stance, "y'ain't got the slightest clue how to do pushups!"

Laughter explodes out of her face and into Rocky's. "Baaaah-hahaha, hay-brain can't count, heh, think's he's hot shit!" She pokes one huge finger against his belly. "Do ya, tubby? Do you really?"

"Careful now, fuzzball," Rocky snarls through his nose at her, "sure you want to scrap with someone like me?"

"Hah!" She leans back and spreads out her blotchy-colored brown and black arms; even extended, the sleeves on that t-shirt struggle against her bulging muscles. "Let's go, grass-guzzler! Heh, ahee-hee, I'll send your ass back to the countryside where it belongs!"

"That does it..." Rocky snarls and takes a step forward before we all freeze in place.

"Mr. Jenkins!" Mr. Skollson roars and silences us all. Even that hyena girl flinched, but I can't blame her. I thought our teacher was loud at the beginning, but that was almost defeaning. "Get the mat," he commands with another roar, "unfold it front and center! Ms. Delafosse, stand next to me!"

She regains her composure and does as she's told, while Rocky trots over to get the folding mat. The rest of us kinda stand around lost while the teacher gets the rest of the numbers. Soon enough we're all standing around a twenty-foot mat, with both the combatants on either side.

"Rocky Jenkins," Mr. Skollson puts out one hand at him, "challenges Blossom Delafosse."

Her name is Blossom? That red-eyed monster's name is Blossom? She still hasn't stopped giggling, but at least it's a little quieter.

"You will begin when I say begin," the teacher continues, "You will stop when I say stop. No drawing blood, no outside interference. Do either of you wish to back down?"

"No sir-ee," Rocky drawls, rolling his arms.

"Heh, bring it on!" Blossom goads, cracking her neck.

"Begin!" Mr. Skollson lowers his hand in a chop I'm sure could split concrete.

Rocky puts both his arms up into a boxing stance, while Blossom does the same. The rest of the class start cheering them on, and who is cheering for who is rather surprising. I thought it might have been split down the lines of predators versus prey species, but I guess the battle lines are more complicated than something as simple as that. I stay quiet, stunned to see this happening under the supervision of the teacher. At my old school, something like this would have made the news.

"Come at me, you fat bitch!" she shouts, walking right up to him. He throws a couple jabs at her while she bobs and weaves, then tries to throw a right hook. It slides off her left arms and over her head while she ducks, giving him a powerful kidney shot with another high-pitched laugh. He stumbles back with a wince and gives her a kick to the legs, but with her hyena build, she crouches to take it in one of her heavy thighs. I can see him trying to cover the spot where she hit him

"Harder, fatass!" she shouts, spittle flying from her bare fangs. He throws another flurry of punches against the laughing hyena, one of them catching her in the eye, but she lands another kidney shot on the other side. He gives up punching and rushes forward for a tackle, one of her legs gets tangled into his, and they both go sprawling in a pile of limbs. It's hard to follow how it unfolds after that, but she winds up on his back, one of her arms around Rocky's neck and hooked into her other elbow. Heavy breaths push out of his mashed face into the blue mat and he tries to give her a couple elbows or roll out of it, but she's got her big back paws on either side of him.

"Hah! Give up, dumbass!" she yells into his ear, "Or I'm gonna--heheheh--start standing up, and you're gonna be as limp as your dick! Hahaha!"

"F-fuck you, bitch," he growls back.

"Tubby doesn't know when to quit!" the black back paws walk up a bit, her tree-trunk arms still around his neck. "One!" she pulls up to give him a shake and he tries to elbow her again. "Two!...Three!" She pulls up and back, bringing his head locked in her arms back into a bend. Fat brown hands flail and tug at her arms for purchase, finding none.

"Stop!" Mr. Skollson yells, and Blossom immediately drops him like a sack of potatoes, stepping back and letting her tongue hang out, panting. Rocky groans and coughs, but doesn't get up. The teacher takes a knee next to him, rolling him over. "You're going to get yourself killed from that stubbornness, Mr. Jenkins, not every fight is life or death. Now tell Ms. Delafosse you submit." Wow, he can actually speak softly.

"But--"

"You've lost, son. Say you submit or I'll be forced to get your pack involved."

Rocky turns to her with a grimace on his face, while she's still got that smile, hands resting on her hips. Her left eye is starting to swell, though. "I...I submit."

"That's right," she jeers, "Remember this next time you want to fuck with me." Her arms open up and she pans the rest of the class. "Anyone else? You all just happy to watch me, huh?" Her eyes stop in my direction, and she winks. I turn to look at the horse next to me, are they an item?

The horse's face matches mine, eyebrow raised and confused. I shrug back at him.

"That will be all for class," Mr. Skollson announces, helping Rocky off the mat, "go change out of your uniforms, and shower if you'd like. You may not depart until the bell rings, however."

We all file back into the lockerrooms whispering to each other

"See?" Tom mutters next to me, "Told you it was the stuff of nightmares."

"Is there a way to just...not get into matches?"

"Yeah, just don't fight. Once they see you're submitting they'll stop."

"Gee thanks, that's really helpful."

"That, or convince someone else in your pack to fight for you. It also helps they also don't want to embarrass themselves by picking on someone super-small like me." He looks me up and down for a moment, "but that's probably not gonna work for you."

"Just gotta act real chill, got it." Bella would never go to bat for me.

Rocky comes in a second later, and we all go quiet. None of us want to find out if he's a sore loser, so we finish up in silence. I decide to skip the shower once I see him heading there with a towel, this is the last hour anyway so I'll just do it at home.

Out in the gymnasium the mat's been folded up and put back in place, the rest of the class waiting near the exit. Blossom's eye is starting to swell a bit, but she's talking and laughing with one of the other girls, an Australian shepard, I think. Mr. Skollson comes to stand at the door, and Rocky's the last one to make it out. His steps are shorter and slower than when he came in to class, those punches must have hurt something serious to slow down a beast like him.

The school bell finally rings to signal the end of the day and we all file out. I stick closer to the edge of the halls, now acutely aware of what might happen if I bump into the wrong person the wrong way. The smaller species move like they have some sort of sixth sense for the bigger ones, easily weaving through the forest of legs and tails. I make my way to the front of the school and look for my dad's car; he's probably lined up somewhere with the others near the pick up area, while a lot of students filter through the parking lot to their own cars. I'm 16, so I have my license, but without a job I'm out of luck to buy one, so it's either ride with Mom and Dad or the bus, and I think I'll skip the bus rides until I settle in more. I dig out my CD player and headphones from my backpack, the expensive one I convinced my dad to get me because it can read mp3 disks, and let the tunes decompress me from my day.

Someone smacks my shoulder, and turn to see it's Bella, strutting into the parking lot with a fat keychain dangling from her hand. She shoves a little hankerchief into my hand before continuing away from me and saying something. I pull off one of the speakers to listen.

"Hey Alistair!" Bella calls to me, "Rub that on your face or neck or whatever, and try harder tomorrow, okay?" her finger doing cirlces while pointing at all of me, then twirls around and waves back at me.

What a bitch. I stuff the little rag into one of the outside pockets of my backpack and keep walking. She's part of the only pack that will take me, though. All the others don't want a smelly carnivore or they just don't want to be responsible for a human. Do I really have to stick with them the entire year? We already bought clothes for the school year, I don't know if Dad would fork out the cash for a newer, better one. I don't even know what all a pack means for me yet, either. Do they really get a veto on who I can date? What about prom? I finally spot dad's car and hop in, leaving my backpack in the back seat.

"Hey champ," he smiles, "how was your first day of school?"

"Ugh, terrible."

"Oh come on, it can't be that bad."

"Well I have to join a 'pack,' or I'll be a loner all year, and they all think I suck or that I stink."

"Heh, I remember the first time I changed schools," he chuckles and turns out of the parking lot, "I thought everything I did was wrong and the whole school knew about it. But most people are more worried about themselves than everyone else. Surely one of them let you join."

"Yeah, a bunch of bitchy housecats."

"Language, Alistair."

"They're the only one with a human already in it, and they treat him like dirt. They even made me give away my desert.

"Sharing food is a very important part of anthro culture, you know. Maybe they were just helping you fit in better, but don't know how to properly express it."

"Oh I think they expressed it just fine. The pack leader wants me to get a better wardrobe."

"Heh, yeah. Housecats can be pretty conscious of appearances."

"Whatever, I have a week to find and join a pack before they start making me fill out paperwork."

"There's always tomorrow, son. I wouldn't be so quick to write off all anthros, some of them can be the sweetest, prettiest, most caring people you could ever meet. And you should learn to get along with them. Making friends and knowing how to make friends with them will open all sorts of doors for you in your career."

"I can't believe I have two more years of this. Did you know there was a fight today? Day one, sanctioned by the teachers and everything!"

"Yeah, your mother told me about that happening. Social dominance and heirarchies and all that. Don't you worry about being top dog, just keep your head down and focus on your studies and everything will be fine. Get good grades, get a scholarship into a good college, and you'll have a top-paying job in no time."

"Mom's okay with all of this?"

"Yes. It's thanks to her you were able to get into a top-rated high school like Westgate. A good GPA from here and you'll be a shoe-in for colleges across the country."

"Yeah, if I survive."

"Don't be so melodramatic. It's just high school, not the end of the world." Yeah, says the guy who never went to an anthro high school. I just shut my mouth, there isn't any reasoning with him about this now, I'll have to wait until something gets really messed up.

"Alistair," dad says after the silent second half of our trip home ends in the garage, "try not to blow this stress out of proportion with your mother. She's pr--pretty busy nowadays, and things are only going to get busier, so she doesn't need the extra stress."

"What..." I narrowed my eyes at him. She's never let work stress, or anything else for that matter, ever affect that bright and positive personality. "What's going on?"

"Well!" he coughs. I knew it, something's up. "I think I'll let your mother explain at dinner."

"Okay..." I sigh and head inside.

This house is considerably bigger than our last one, before Dad married Sakura. With their combined incomes they had enough to buy a better house in a better neighborhood at a better school, which meant a better life for me. Everything just magically got better. Who cares about my old school, my old friends, all on the other side of the state? I even have the basement all to myself. It's a nice half-level with windows and a big living room down here with a big TV, even has nice double doors leading out to the big green back yard with a pool. It's already shut down for the year, though, thankfully. Keeping that thing clean and ready was part of my summer chores since Dad finally bought his dream machine. That riding lawn mower saw use every single week, and I'm pretty sure he's gonna be riding it until the last leaf of autumn falls.

I log onto the computer in my room and throw on some tunes. My room is opposite of my parents' on the floor above, so I don't have to worry about volume unless I really crank it. The computer desk and my school desk, right next to each other, are pretty much the only furniture I have in here besides my bed and dresser. I didn't want to move all my crap and when we moved I realized I hadn't sorted through it since I was a kid, so besides a few mementos it all went to Goodwill.

I check to see which movies and albums are availabe online now and queue them up for download later tonight, while I slot in another CD to burn a backup, then start in on AP Bio's assigned reading. I can't believe I got homework on orientation day, but I guess that's how things work in AP classes. Five stomps on the ceiling means it's time to head up for dinner, so I'll finish up later.

"Hey Alistair," Sakura stops humming and looks over her shoulder from the stove when I come up the stairs. She's wearing a blue apron with a flowing flower pattern and 'kiss the cook' on it, her three pink tails with white tips swaying behind her. "Dinner's just about ready, can you please set the table?"

"Sure thing mom," I reply and get to work. The fancy white plates with brass trim are all her work, Dad never bothered with anything fancy before he married her. Everything in the house seems to be either pretty or cute or both, save for Dad's office and my room. Despite working she always made time for taking care of the house.

"Mmmm-mm!" Dad hums and struts into the kitchen, loosening his tie, "Smells delicious, honey!" She pauses to give him a kiss before going back to the pan and Dad sits across from me. A minute later the table is set and she bring it over on a bright pink oven mitt to set in the center.

"Beef casserole with a side of broccoli tonight," she announces and sets down the steaming-hot pan. It's one of my favorite meals, but just about everything she cooks is delicious. Dad immediately helps himself to a few scoops.

"Save some for Alistair, dear" she coos, "He's a growing boy."

"Oh you always make enough honey," he says, "Besides, your cooking is delicious."

"You always say that."

"It's always true."

"Every time?"

"Every single time, pumpkin."

"Ahem," I cough before their faces get any closer, "I want some too, Dad."

"Right, right. Help yourself, son." And I do. She really does make enough, so I give myself to a heaping helping.

"So, Alistair," Mom starts, "how was your first day of school?"

"Eugh, it was..." I look at her and pause. Dammit, those puppy dog eyes and super-sweet smile always get me. She could charm the devil himself with that face. "...you know, stressful. New school, advanced classes, that kinda stuff."

"Yes, I remember my first time in high school." I can't really imagine her having a hard time making friends or finding a pack. They probably competed to have her join. "Did you find yourself a pack yet?"

I stuff a few bites into my mouth to give me some time. I could probably ask her for help on finding a good one, but there probably weren't any humans in school back when she went. I know Kitsune live for a long, long time, and that it's rude to ask. "Uh, kinda. A pack of housecats that has the other human in it."

"That doesn't sound so bad. How's the leader?"

"She's uh...a bit strict."

"Oh, alright. I know it's a lot to take in, but it might help you and the others keep out of trouble. That way, you can focus on your studies!"

"She's kind of controlling, though."

"Well, being a pack leader is a big responsibility. Members looking bad make you look bad. I'm sure she just wants what's best for everyone."

"Yeah...I'll keep my options open though. I have a week to find a good one before they make us sign up and make it all official."

"Sounds like you'll be busy this week."

"Yup, already have homework." I eat another couple bites and look at Dad. He's giving me some kind of look. What? I didn't say anything wrong.

"Speaking of busy," he gives me a look I do recognize: disappointment, "isn't there something you want to share with Alistair, honey?"

"Oh, now?"

"Now's as good a time as any."

"Alright dear," she puts down her fork and looks at me, "Alistair, you know that your father and I love each other very much..."

"Okay?"

"And we've been married for over a year now."

"Yes, I was there."

"And you did a great job at the wedding, dear," she cuts off Dad who's about to say something, "but when a man and a woman get married, well..."

I look between them. I think I know where this is going. "I'm 16, mom. I know about the birds and the bees."

Dad spits up a little into his cup. "We...we wouldn't talk about that over dinner, son," he coughs at me.

"Yeah. Which is why I'm confused."

"Alistair," Sakura reaches over and places her hand on mine. Her delicate little white-furred hands are so soft, even the pads aren't rough. More reasons why Dad fell for her. "What I'm trying to say is that I'm pregnant."

"What?" What.

"Yes, your father and I have been trying for a long time and, well, it finally took." I look between them and Dad's got a smug smile on his face just like when he bought that mower.

"Gross."

"No no dear," she pats my hand, "this is great news!"

"Isn't it impossible for anthros and humans to have children?"

"Not impossible, son," Dad wipes his face, but it only takes off the food, not his smile, "just very unlikely. You play the lottery enough, and you're bound to win at least once. And your old man is just drowning in scratch tickets."

"Benny!" Sakura's ears stand straight up.

"You know I love you dear. Very, very much." His grin somehow gets more smug.

"Alright, alright!" Sakura's very pretty and all, but thinking about my dad doing that is disgusting. "How long have you known?"

"I'm about four months along," she pats my hand again, "We didn't want to tell you until we knew for sure. Isn't this wonderful, Alistair? Soon you're going to have a brand new little brother or sister!"

"You don't know what it is yet?"

"Doctor says we won't know until month six," Dad says.

"You've been an only child for so long, Alistair," she squeezes my hand, "so this is a big change for you. There's going to be lots of changes this year, and I'm going to need your help with some of it."

"Yeah, I get it." I don't get it. What am I supposed to do that Dad can't?

"Just remember, I'll still love you like my own," she leans forward to kiss my forehead. I still can't say no to her for stuff like this, either. "Even after the baby is born, okay? I love you."

"I love you too, Mom."

"And don't forget to take a shower tonight, you smell like you forgot."

"...I did."