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>Three months

>Three miserable, humiliating, dour months full of nothing but failure

>Alexis knew it wouldn’t be easy making the transition from her tribe to the city

>Tribal life is so radically different from how people live in the more ‘civilized’ parts of the country

>No ritualistic hunts to catch game, no days spent fishing to pass the time, no mass bonfires to roast meats and socialize around the flickering flames

>In this place you don’t need to hunt or fish, it’s all conveniently pre-caught and pre-hunted for you

>Really takes the joy out of eating when she thinks about it

>No build up, no heart pounding chase, no last minute surprises, no cathartic gutting or skinning at the end

>Just walk down to the restaurant and pick it up

>So anticlimactic

>Kind of like her move to the city

>She remembers the day she left on the bus, her head full of hope and backpack full of her only belongings

>She was going to make so much money! She was going to make her packmates, and more importantly her parents, so damn proud! Start a lucrative career and give back to her tribe!

>Yet after three months she has little to show for it

>The first company she tried promptly fired her when she talked back to an irate and frankly idiotic customer

>What else was she supposed to do? She was taught to fend for herself! Not lay back and take abuse, whether verbal or physical, like some kind of gutless punching bag

>The data entry job she had to quit after learning the whole thing was computer based

>She doesn’t like computers much, barely knows how to use them much less work with one for an entire shift

>Not to mention her untrimmed claws tended to disfigure computer keys and touch screens

>Trimming them was simply out of the question, no self-respecting wolfess blunts her own hunting implements as far as she’s concerned!

>Which left her the warehouse job

>It was simple, not much talking, no computers, just move boxes from point A to point B

>The problem being that it paid like shit and left her worn out at the end of every shift

>Her meager paychecks were barely big enough for her to afford rent in her shoebox apartment

>Her apartment that’s currently being lit by the first blue hues of dawn

>Alexis wakes up to a rainy Saturday morning, her sole outside facing window covered in streaks of running water

>She uncurls from the bundle of blankets and rubs her tired eyes, already wishing she could just go back to sleep

>Not possible though, waking up at dawn was something ingrained into her since she was a pup

>Very important when most of your work had to be done without the aid of artificial lights

>Not so much when you live in the city that never sees darkness

>She sits on the edge of the bed before standing up and yawning, her bare nipples hardening in the chilly morning air

>Not like it bothered the hardy wolf, she was used to sleeping in the nude and waking up to unforgiving autumn chills

>Shaking her head to get the sleep out she stumbles over to her closet and opens it to get dressed

>Aaaand it’s totally empty aside from the traditional tribal outfit made by her mother shortly before she left for the city

>She sighs, and takes it out of the closet

>Guess today’s going to be laundry day

>Sure, wearing tribal wear in the middle of the city is going to give her a few strange looks but she’s well beyond the point of caring

>Not like she felt intimidated by any of the domesticated toothless ingrates that populated this place, if they wanted to say something about it she would be happy to give them a new claw mark or two

>She takes her outfit and lays it on the bed, giving it a brief lookover to make sure nothing seemed out of place

>The top is composed of a single long strip of a light blue fabric, designed to be wrapped around her breasts then across her shoulders, the two ends tied together with a knot in the back

>As she looks at the strip of fabric she can’t help but be reminded of how it’s a little shorter than some of the tops her fellow packmates wore

>Alexis, though blessed with an athletic body, slender frame, and tall stature, was not so fortunate in the padding department

>Which is why when her mother made it for her she intentionally made the material just a tad thicker than it needed to be to add a bit of artificial bust

>A little trick passed down from one chestily challenged wolfess to another

>Alexis then looks to her skirt

>Composed of loose tan cloth it only came down to her mid-thigh across the front and sides, being knee length in the rear

>Short enough in the front to run in, long enough in the rear to sit down on moist ground and not get her butt wet, very utilitarian aside from a few decorative leather tassels that hung from it’s edges

>A bit of flair her mother added

>She quickly dons the top and skirt, but with her most important bits covered she now considers putting on the final piece to make the outfit truly complete

>The headdress

>Composed of a thin layer of leather with a dense arrangement of beads woven onto it’s outward facing surface and a few feathers stitches in pointing upwards it’s easily the most eye catching part of the whole outfit

>It’s usually only worn for special occasions and ceremonies though, and she’ll undoubtedly catch a few more stares with it on as opposed to leaving it in the apartment

>Ehhh fuck it! If she’s going to put everything else on she might as well of the entire way

>She places it on her head and adjusts it to sit just below her pointed wolfy ears, feathers flanking either side of her head

>Her outfit now complete she grabs a laundry bag and throws all of her dirty clothes into it before catching the elevator to the first floor

>Alexis pays no mind to the rain as she walks to the nearby laundromat, why bother with raincoats or umbrellas when her well maintained coat of fur allows the rain to simply slick off of it?

>She nears the laundromat and-

>*sniff*…*sniff sniff*

>She smells a strange new scent on the air

>She recognizes it as coffee, her coworkers seemed to drink gallons of the stuff but she never found the motivation to taste the strange smelling brown liquid

>She rounds a corner and sees something new right next to her laundromat, a sign bearing the name “Catty’s Coffee Company”

>Interesting, maybe she’ll have to try it out while her clothes are being washed

>Alexis unloads her clothes into a washer, takes note of the time remaining, and finds the scent of coffee still invading her nose

>She sighs, with nothing to do for the next forty five minutes she might as well try out the place next door

>The second she enters the building the distinct smell of coffee beans threatens to overpower her senses, a symptom of having a nose better tuned for picking up the faint scents of distant prey than the overpowering odors of the city

>Still, she steels herself and walks up to the counter

>”Hello, welcome to Catty’s, what can I get for you?” Greets the tabby at the counter

>Alexis looks up to the menu in bewilderment

>Cinnamon Dolce Latte? Expresso Macchiato? Nitro Cold Brew? Iced Toasted Vanilla Oatmilk Shaken Espresso?

>What the hell are these? Where is the line for ‘coffee’?

>”Can I get a uhhhhh…” She trails off into a confused silence, her eyes frantically darting across strange words and tiny pictures

>”Try the orange mocha frappucino, trust me, you’ll love it.” Whispers someone across her shoulder

>She looks behind her to see a man with spiked hair wearing…yellow?

>Bright yellow undershirt below a puffy yellow vest with pants bearing a yellow and gray camouflage pattern

>Jesus, even the sunglasses he wore had a yellow tint

>She gives the color coordinated man a polite smile

>”Thanks.” She then turns to the cashier, placing her order for an orange mocha frappucino

>She’s soon joined by the odd man while she waits for her coffee, he gives her a look up and down before speaking

>”Didn’t think I would meet another model here. What is that, Balenciaga?”

>She gives a confused stare

>”Huh?”

>”The colors make me think Armani but they don’t do that style of stitching. I would say Gucci but they rarely go for something so rustic. Who made your outfit?”

>”My, uh, my mother made this.”

>”Maya Muther made it? Can’t say I’ve heard of them before. Must be one of those smaller european brands, I like the look though.”

>”I’m sorry, who are you?”

>The man laughs before sticking his hand out for a handshake

>”Of course, I forgot to introduce myself! I'm Dylan Ziegler, male model.”

>She takes his hand in her paw and shakes it firmly

>”I'm Alexis. So you model clothing, like, for a living?”

>”Haha! Not quite, I'm just a hand and face model right now. But the company says I’ll be promoted to hand and foot model soon though.”

>Alexis smiles politely and shakes her head as if she knew anything about the fashion world

>”Wow. That’s really cool.”

>”Ya, it has it’s downsides like anything other job though. All those bright lights really dry out the skin and camera flashes make your vision go all funny. Oh, hey Vicky!”

>He looks to a slender vixen in a loud black and white checkered rain coat slowly approaching them

>Dylan and Vicky greet each other while Alexis studies the striking looking vixen

>Her frame is tall and slender, much taller than the average fox as she matched Alexis’s own height

>Her fur is a made of the normal whites, blacks, and oranges that most red tailed foxes wore yet her fur carried an almost otherworldy sheen, the colors sharply contrasting with one another while vibrantly shimmering in the light

>Alexis suspects she’s had something done to it, she must be another model like Dylan if she cares about her appearance so much

>”Oh Dylan, you do know you’re not supposed to look directly into the cameras while their flashes go off, right? You’ll go blind if you keep doing it.” Says Vicky, suppressing a giggle

>”Come on Vicky, you know I need to keep my eyes open and focused when I'm on a shoot. It’s part of my look. Besides, blindness is temporary, but a good photo is eternal.”

>She chuckles

>”You won’t be saying that when you can’t see your pretty little face in the mirror anymore.” The vixen suddenly turns her head to Alexis, surveying her up and down. “Oh, and who is this dashing wolfess? Her headdress is so bold, yet she wears it with such confidence.”

>Dylan steps to Alexis’s side, a hand on her shoulder

>”Vicky, this is Alexis. She’s a model with Maya Muther, it’s one of the smaller brands.”

>”Pleased to meet you.” Says Vicky, nodding her head. “Your look is very tribal, I like it.”

>Well shit, she isn’t wrong

>Alexis gives a toothy smile

>”Thanks.”

>”Order for Vicky!” Shouts one of the baristas

>”Well, it was a pleasure meeting you Alexis, I’ll see you next week at the show Dylan.”

>”See ya later, you foxy lady you!” Says Dylan

>The vixen quickly grabs her cup then departs, her tail swishing underneath her rain coat

>Alexis turns to Dylan

>”Let me guess, she’s a model.”

>”Not just any model, she’s one of the best.”

>”Order for Alexis! Order for Dylan!” Shouts a barista holding two cups

>They retrieve their drinks then Dylan begins walking towards the door

>”Well it was nice meeting you Alexis. Keep up whatever routine you have, you look great!”

>”Thanks, you too.” Replies Alexis, waving him goodbye

>The wolfess looks outside at the falling rain and takes a sip of her coffee

>Her lips curl back in disgust

>Tastes like burnt oranges

**************************************************

>Well, well, well, if it isn’t laundry day again

>Alexis once again walks towards the laundromat, a heavy laundry bag slung across a shoulder

>She’s only about halfway into her journey until an open top jeep pulls up beside her, she glances over to see Dylan driving it this time all decked out in green

>”Alexis! Hey Alexis! I need some help.” He shouts over

>”Not now Dylan. I’ve got to do my laundry.”

>”You don’t understand! Remember Vicky? She called in sick this morning and can’t attend the fashion show this evening. It was the orange mocha frappucino I'm telling you! She had like three of them yesterday! It was the orange mocha frappucinos!”

>”So what? What do you want me to do about it?”

>”Well obviously you need to take her place in the show! Our designers made a really nice fit for her to strut in but without anyone to wear it their effort will be for nothing!”

>Alexis sighs and lets her laundry bag drop to the sidewalk

>”Dylan, I'm not a model. I appreciate the thought but I can’t take her place in anything.”

>Dylan pauses, sliding his green tinted glasses down his face to get a better look at her

>”You’re…not a model?”

>”No! Look at what I'm wearing today!” She looks down to her raggedy jeans and stained t-shirt. “What you saw me in yesterday was just a tribal thing my mom made for me.”

>Dylan pauses again

>”But…you look like one.”

>”Consider my athletic build and slender frame a product of a lifetime of running through the forest and breathing fresh air. And, you know, genetics.” She says, mentally pushing out the thought of her disappointing bust

>”Alexis you idiot, don’t you get what I'm saying? You can fit into Vicky’s outfit and look good doing it. You have the ingredients of a good runway model within you, you just need to chop them up, boil them, and make a nice steamy bowl of…like…fashion soup or something.”

>She looks around, hands held up in exasperation

>”I'm not a model Dylan! I can’t do it!”

>He leans over the side of the door, a smug grin on his face

>”What if I told you you’ll get paid to do it?”

>She puts her arms on her hips

>”How much?”

>”Enough for a lifetime supply of orange mocha frappucinos. Maybe even two lifetimes, if you manage to live that long.”

>Her lips curl into an amused smile

>”Oh alright, fine. I’ll give it a try. If they run me off the runway for daring to show my ugly mug I’ll consider it a learning experience.”

>”That’s the spirit! Now throw your bag in the back, we don’t have much time to get you ready!”

>She throws herself into the passenger seat and they speed off, soon arriving at the rear of what looks like a large warehouse, spotlights and the murmur of a large crowd clearly on the other side of the building

>Dylan escorts her to a dressing room and walks her to the outfit she would be wearing displayed on a mannequin

>”This is what they made for Vicky. What do you think?”

>Alexis scans the mannequin from head toe, taking in the outfit it wore

>She quickly pins her ears to the back of her head and crosses her arms, the wolfess’s voice filled with righteous anger

>”The nerve of these people! They just stole the look of my traditional tribal wear!” She begins pointing to specific pieces of it. “That skirt is the exact same design as what mom made for me! And look at that top! Sure it’s made from much fancier fabric and has a few designs stitched into it but it goes on the exact same way as the top I have! What the hell are those shoes? And the headdress! Oh my god the headdress! The feathers are black! Those are crows feathers!”

>Dylan shuffles his feet nervously

>”And what does that mean?”

>”It means that this headdress is for mourning a lost loved one Dylan! You’re only supposed to wear crows feathers during their funeral ceremony and absolutely nowhere else!”

>Alexis continues to stare at the mockery of her own traditions, her paws curled up into fists and chest rising up and down with each heavy breath

>Dylan gets in between her and the mannequin, his arms raised up

>”I know a guy that replace those feathers real quick! Not an issue at all! Think you’ll still wear it?”

>Alexis lets a deep calming breath cool down her anger

>”I guess. As long as those feathers get replaced. And those moccasins? I'm not wearing those either, I would have to practically shave my claws off to fit in them.”

>”Sure, sure, not an issue. Barepawed models on the runway are…unconventional…but not unheard of! I’ll get all this fixed right away!”

>A few minutes later and Alexis is dressed in the new outfit, her feathers now a uniform white and paws bare

>The two of them move to the backstage area and Alexis gets in line behind a few other models waiting their turn on the runway

>”Pssst, Dylan.”

>”Ya?”

>”So, like, what do I need to do exactly besides walk down the runway and back?”

>”I told you I'm just a hand and face model, I don’t have any experience but they usually do a pose at the end of the runway.”

>”A pose? Like what?”

>”You know, like a pose.”

>Alexis looks ahead to the rapidly shrinking number of models in front of her

>”This is my first time Dylan! I don’t know any poses!”

>”Just…like…you know! Strike a pose!”

>”Dylan you’re not helping me!” She shouts, a high pitched whine in her voice as only two models remained in front of her

>He suddenly grabs her cheeks and pulls Alexis nose to nose with him, looking her in the eye

>”Listen to me Alexis. I know this is all very confusing, and that outfit wasn’t even made for you, but just because you’re a wolfy lady doesn’t mean you can’t also pretend to be a foxy lady as well. When you reach the end of the runway just do what comes naturally. I know they’re gonna eat you up out there!”

>A production manager taps Alexis on the shoulder

>”Hey, your turn, get out there.”

>Dylan lets go of her and Alexis struts past the curtains and onto the runway, making sure to give her hips a wiggle and keep her muzzle pointed up

>She ignores the bright flashes of the cameras and the noise of the crowd as she marches forward step by nerve wracking step

>After what feels like an eternity she finally makes it to the end of the runway and…pauses

>Sweat forms under her fur and for a brief moment she enters a state of total mental lockup

>That is until a certain couple phrases Dylan mentioned earlier float through her consciousness

>”Strike a pose… they’re gonna eat you up out there…strike a pose…they’re gonna eat you up out there…”

>Acting on instinct Alexis enters a defensive stance, one paw behind the other and both arms held in front of her, claws pointed outward

>She growls then gives a single, deafening bark ending in a vicious snarl, as if she had just encountered a dangerous predator while out in the wild and was trying to scare it away

>The camera flashes stop, the noise of the crowd dies down, everyone in front of her freezes

>Alexis’s heart sinks, she wasn’t supposed to do that, was she?

>There’s a brief moment of absolute terror

>Then she sees the audience exit their paralysis and give booming applause, their heads nodding approvingly as the camera flashes start their wild rhythm again

>Alexis exits her pose and struts down the runway, a barely hidden smile on her maw

>Not seeing Dylan anywhere backstage she moves to the dressing room to change back into her regular clothes

>The door opens and the first thing she sees is Dylan on a couch seated across from a poodle woman

>”-not very well known in the current market but as her manager I can assure you that she is willing to explore every new opportunity that’s comes her way. Speak of the devil! There she is!” Dylan gives a nervous laugh and waves Alexis over. “Come sit down Alexis, I was just talking to Mrs. Goodwin here about possibly signing you onto a contract with her brand.” He says with a wink

>Alexis shoots Dylan an annoyed glare then sits down

>”Yes, I’m Alexis, canine model. Pleased to meet you Mrs. Goodwin.” Starts Alexis, a faux confidence in her voice and a toothy grin on her muzzle

>The poodle vigorously shakes her hand and giggles

>”Oh Mr. Zeigler I believe she’s going to be a perfect fit! Alexis, my brand is coming out with a new line called le animal, it’s going for a more primal, savage, tribal look than what is currently making the rounds. And after your performance out there today what can I say? You clearly possess the right spirit for the line. Perhaps you’ll even be our lead model after test shoots.”

>Alexis chuckles and removes her headdress

>”Mrs. Goodwin, I would be honored to participate. However, if you’ll let me, I just have a couple of small stipulations.”

>”And those are?”

>”Number one, no headdresses with black feathers. It’s for…personal reasons.”

>”That should be easy to accommodate, and the other?”

>”This new line, it won’t require me to trim my claws, will it?”

>The poodle pauses, then breaks out in laughter

>”Of course not! I say why would the omnifur have given us two legged canines paws and claws if not to let them do their job! No gloves, no shoes, not even nail polish. This line will keep your extremities very au naturale.”

>The wolfess smiles, then puts a paw out for a handshake that is warmly returned