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Hello SoFurry! Here is my latest work, featuring the wolf and collie from my previous story, 'When The Sun Goes Down Around Here'. Please read, comment, enjoy.

Darwen Peak

They call it the 'rat race'. That time, that final journey before the weekend, when the rats and all kinds of creature swarmed the city streets, tired and sticky from the day's labour, in a plague, an infestation, an imbroglio of which their murine forebears would have been proud. Here too at Central Station the air was hectic, furs filling the foyers and platforms and boutiques as far as the eye could see. Cats and foxes in their businesswear. Over to one side, a family of badgers chattering about their coming holiday, a weekend by the sea away from the rigours of work and education. And just joining the concourse a gang of teenage weasels, dressed down in T-shirts and baggy jeans, drawling about the drinking and clubbing they were planning that night.

Just another Friday afternoon, Bradley mused.

The wolf sat on one of the few seats on the concourse, sipping slowly on a coke bottle, a chocolate muffin clenched in his other paw. Lowering the bottle, hiccuping slightly as the bubbles slipped down his throat, he scanned the surroundings while munching his snack. There was something about train stations, something intriguing and cosmopolitan, especially a huge city terminus like this. All these furs, from all walks of life, all with their own destinations, thrown together in this place. It was the sense of something greater than him, a huge symbiotic network twice the age of any fur there that day. His own story, too, was just one of the thousands, tens of thousands, that this great edifice saw each and every day.

Old and young alike jostled their way through the crowds, rushing to catch their trains. None with time to stop, to relax. In they would come and out they would go, just as the wolf would. Minutes passed, yet not one other fur sat beside him on the concourse, and not one other spoke to him. That left the wolf thinking. What would happen if he wasn't there, sitting on that bench, getting ready to catch his train? No-one would care. Life and the city, they would go on. All these furs, they would still get up in the morning, catch their trains, go to work, go about their daily lives. One more or one fewer Canis lupus, what did that matter? With or without him the network would trundle along, unfeeling, like clockwork.

This unsettled the wolf. Hurriedly he finished his snack, to keep his paws busy if nothing else. Then, he spent a moment gazing at the station's main departure board, the names and numbers flickering and changing before his eyes as he searched for his train.

"The train at platform twelve is the seventeen fifty-five service..."

Bradley perked an ear at the announcement. His train had arrived. Interest piqued, he craned his neck, listening as the station names echoed around the concourse's lofty roof.

"...Milford, Northwaite, Darwen Peak..."

Brad smiled. There it was, Darwen Peak. That one name, more important to him than all the other names he had heard, or would hear: his final destination for the day. And what made it even more special was what, or rather who, was waiting for him at that place, at Darwen Peak: the canine who had changed his life for good, that unbelievable collie who made the wolf whole. Marlon.

Bradley stood up, stretching his arms, legs and tail before slinging his holdall over his shoulder and setting off for platform twelve. The station was still packed, even with fifty-five minutes of the rush hour passed; and despite standing at well over six feet, Brad still took a couple of knocks. Still he made it largely unscathed to the train, a little diesel unit two carriages long. It was an old branch-line train, far older than the gleaming inter-city sets sitting elsewhere in the station, its well-used diesel engines rumbling, the bottom half of its lime-green and white livery covered in grime. Still, it would get him where he needed to go, and that was all that mattered. Climbing on board the first carriage, Bradley left his holdall in the luggage rack, and surveyed the carriage. Peaceful, quiet, the low murmur of conversation just audible above the train's idling engines. Nobody paid him much heed, his fellow passengers all absorbed in their own private conversations or reading their papers. He passed through the carriage, its dark green carpets and upholstery tired and worn, before he found an empty table and four seats to himself (brilliant!), smiling as he draped his tail over the spare seat beside him. A free paper lay discarded on the table. Bradley picked it up and glanced at the front page. With the headline 'Killed Doing The Job He Loved', it carried the story of the latest soldier to die in whatever conflict the country was involved in these days. Straightaway Bradley tossed the paper to an empty seat. He had seen enough of these stories since the war began some five years ago. They were always the same anyway: about how brave this man (or increasingly, woman) was, how much he meant to his family, and what a tragic waste of a life his killing was. And they always included a picture of the fur at home, smiling, gazing into the camera, with his wife and often a young kit by his side. Funny how all this praise and respect was automatically bestowed on a fur, just by being willing to kill a fellow animal.

As five fifty-five approached, the guard introduced himself over the intercom, running down the station list once more. Soon the doors slammed closed, and soon the rumble of diesel grew as the train juddered into motion, inching its way along the platform, rattling and picking up speed as it snaked out of the station, out from the canopy and into the afternoon sun.

"Tickets please!"

A young vixen passed through after a few minutes, fitted smartly in a conductor's uniform, a pristine white top with a maroon jacket and cravat, and topped with a little peaked cap. Bradley handed over his ticket for the vixen to stamp, stopping staring just soon enough to take the ticket back with a polite 'thank you'. Watching that swaying copper and white-tipped tail out of the carriage, Brad pulled a book from his coat pocket, before throwing the coat overhead. Quickly he glanced out of the window at the barren scrubland beside these suburban railways, littered with plastic and and all kinds of rubbish, the network that built this country now a remnant of its former glory, while the roads and cars of suburbia sprawled gleaming beyond. Soon he had found his place in the book, and he settled in for the journey ahead.

Finally, the weekend could begin. Finally, for a few days at least, he had no need to worry about the mess that was his life. A job he loathed, and which he only kept for the pay, that was bad enough. A family who loathed him, that was worse.

*

In his litter of four, three dogs and one bitch, Bradley had always been the odd one out. Their father and mother, both lawyers, were very keen for their little litter to follow the same path (or, at least, a similarly-paid one). Public school, tutors, work experience... No expense was spared in getting their brood to the top. For three of the four there was no problem: the two brothers were now indeed at a top law school, with their sister top of her class in medicine. For Bradley however, this 'perfect' life didn't appeal. He might have scraped onto a course, Political Theory in fact. But it would only ever be a means to an end... whatever that end was. He didn't know what he planned to do afterwards; but whatever it was, it most certainly wasn't Law. Whatever he planned at least, before he dropped out.

University just wasn't for him, he knew that. And no amount of 'trying the best he could', as his parents very helpfully suggested, would make it better. He just could not cope with the workload, time and again putting off his work, only to break down as his deadlines loomed. Tutors didn't even want to know. It was alright for them, anyway. They never knew how it felt, dragging himself to lectures on liberalism or social contracts or some god-forsaken topic he couldn't ever dream of understanding, and struggling through textbooks so dense they turned his mind to molasses.

And sure enough, come exam time, he cracked. Bradley had never failed an exam before, but when his papers came back he knew why, as pups, schools never used the word, 'FAIL'. Seeing his papers emblazoned, in red ink, with those four soul-crushing little letters, was almost more than the young lupine could handle. They gave him a second try of course, that summer. But the sorry ritual only played itself out once more. So he cracked again. And failed. And was out.

If Bradley could have avoided the car journey home, he would have. Never in his life had he been so tense. He could have curled into a ball and cried, cried for days like a winded puppy kicked in the heart. But a predator doesn't cry in front of others, and certainly not an animal as strong and proud as a male wolf. So instead he sat there, in silence, alone on the back seat for two tortuously long hours, cradling some box of possessions in his lap, with countless other boxes and bags piled all around him. He did not talk, as though the two older wolves in front might wheel around and maul him the second he spoke. Only at the house, locked in his room, did he finally break down, no better than a tiny whimpering chihuahua.

That was nine months ago. He had found employment in the meantime, at least. The pay was dire, but well... work was work. Still, he couldn't afford to move out; and as long as he lived at home, in the shadow of his mother and his father and even his own siblings, he had to live with the shame that he, the prodigal son, lost and lost forever, had let them all down.

*

Lush green fields sped past Bradley's window, the gently rolling land outside the city soon giving way to steep, sheer and craggy peaks. The land stretched for miles beyond the tracks, a patchwork of fields with stretches of forest above steep cliffs, a handful of farmhouses perched on the hillsides. Bradley spared a moment from his book to survey the land in the rapidly dimming light, both the scape of this remarkable land, shaped by the plough; and also the bridges and cuttings of the railway, how seamlessly they fitted in, complementing the countryside not blotting it, in a manner unseen in the city. Now and again they would pass through a village, a small cluster of houses and farms next to a little station, before speeding ahead up the valley. Bradley checked his watch. Not long to go now. Not long at all.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we will shortly be arriving at Darwen Peak."

A warm glow spread through the wolf as he heard those two words ring out again. Picking up his coat and holdall, Bradley made his way to the exit, watching from the window as the train pulled into the shelter of a valley before drawing up to a tiny halt, just two parallel platforms with some glass and iron shelters, a few flower displays set back between the shelters. A line of lamp-posts stood along each platform, flickering to life, some of them fixed with plates bearing the name 'Darwen Peak'; and an angular but graceful iron footbridge spanned the tracks. Bradley watched from the window in the door as the train slowed, then gradually drew to a stop.

The doors slid open. Bradley stepped out and took a deep breath, just a hint of diesel from the train's engines traceable on the cool evening air. Nobody else got on or off the train, and almost straightaway all four sets of doors closed together, the engines rumbled back to life and the train slunk out of the station, leaving nothing but a plume of smoke to dissipate on the night sky. Suddenly, the wolf's ear perked at his name. "Brad. Hey Brad!" Turning, he beamed as he saw who was waiting for him along the platform.

Bradley hurried along the platform, as fast as the holdall over his shoulder would allow, towards the Border Collie who waited for him with open arms. Together, Marlon wrapped his arms around the wolf with a delighted sigh, the smaller collie hugging Brad tightly and letting his tail wag frantically. After a few seconds he released the wolf slightly, glancing upwards, twitching his nose and smiling the full width of his muzzle.

"I'm so glad you're here, pet," said Marlon softly. Brad couldn't help but smile at hearing the collie's wonderful broad Lancashire accent once more. "I've missed you, you know. I really have."

"And I've missed you, too," answered the wolf . The scent of the collie's fur was gorgeous, all wet and musky.

"Right then. Home we go," Marlon said, turning tail and leading the way with a veritable bounce in his step.

They passed through a gap in the wooden fence behind the platform, and down a slope into a shingle car park. Two or three cottages stood around the edge, and parked to one side, the only vehicle in the car park, was the collie's Land Rover.

After dropping his coat and holdall on the back seat, Brad pulled open the passenger door, climbing slowly into the leather seat and pulling the door shut behind him. Very nice, Bradley thought, relaxing in the light spacious interior, the rich scent of tannin mixing wonderfully with the collie's lingering musk.

Marlon joined him in the driver's seat a few seconds later, slipping the keys in the ignition before turning to the wolf.

"Come 'ere", he said, leaning across for another quick embrace, Brad planting a soft kiss on his nose as he pulled away. "I love you, Brad." Love you. It still felt strange, hearing those words from the collie.

Marlon started the engine, pulled slowly out of the car park onto a country lane, and headed across the dales. The sun had long set, the last of its bluish light vanishing rapidly in the valley to the west. Good job Marlon knows these roads, Brad thought, following the headlights as they headed along the narrow tracks, winding round bends, diving up and down steep hills. Brad jumped when a dry-stone wall suddenly appeared in the headlights from nowhere, the collie laughing as he calmly turned the steering wheel.

Soon Marlon slowed right down, before pulling off the track, past an open cast-iron gate and into a driveway, gravel crunching under the Land Rover's tyres, parking at the end and turning of the engine.

Bradley swung the passenger door open, climbing out of the Land Rover and surveying the house ahead of him. Two storeys high, all of the windows set in heavy oak frames, and ahead of him a solid oak front door. The stone facade was crumbling, several roof tiles were cracked or even missing, and a few empty flowerpots and moss-covered ornaments lay neglected by the front door. It was ramshackle, it was rustic, it was perfect.

"Not waiting out here for t' morning, I hope?" Marlon had appeared once more, clutching the wolf's coat and belongings.

"What, and miss all the fun tonight? Not a chance!"

Pulling a key from his pocket, Marlon turned the lock and pushed open the door. The collie went in first, hanging his and Brad's coats on a hook and dropping the holdall to one side. Kicking off his boots, he pulled a heavy lever to switch on the generator, and stepped inside. As the power came on with a low whirr, Brad followed, looking around in surprise at the collie's home. Dimly lit, the ceiling supported by low wooden beams. The air was thick and musty, rich and earthy, dense with collie musk. And everywhere was a mess, the stone floor of the hallway strewn with a huge assortment of coats and bags. Seriously Marlon, how much junk does one animal need? However, that question was pushed to one side as he followed the collie through one of the doorways leading haphazardly from the hall, into the living room. The furniture was the same as ever: the single sofa by the fireplace; the dining table and chairs; a couple of thick-pile rugs over the bare stone floor (covered in black-and-white fur); and two bookcases, filled to the rafters. There were books on farming and animal husbandry, of course; but also history and politics and even a bit of science fiction. Here too was that bouquet of scents that always filled Marlon's house. But mixed in with those was another scent, one irresistible aroma, that had the wolf's muzzle watering right there. His stomach growled as his mind searched out the name for this intoxicating meaty scent, licking his lips as he whispered the name. Lamb. Marlon had cooked one of his lambs, just for this occasion, just for him. He knew it was Brad's favourite, too. Damn that collie. Damn that collie being so good to him.

"You'll have to excuse t' mess, I'm afraid," Marlon said ('Like I always do,' Brad thought), as he hastily grabbed various papers from the floor, darting around muttering to himself and searching in vain for a place to put them.

"Look Marlon relax, I don't mind. Oh, seriously... down boy! Sit!"

Straightaway Marlon stopped in his tracks, crouching to the ground and panting, gazing up at the wolf obediently, his papers still clutched in quivering paws.

"Good boy, good dog!" Brad said gently. He came over and stroked all under Marlon's chin. The collie closed his eyes at the wolf's paws with a huge grin, giggling as the wolf suddenly tickled his neck with his claws, breaking into a hearty laugh and dropping all the papers straight back onto the floor.

"Oh, I did all that tidying for nought!" Marlon said with a grin, batting the wolf away playfully. "Anyway, no doubt you've noticed, but I've cooked a lovely roast lamb for us t'night. I've just got to go put some veg on, it won't be long. So you make yourself comfortable, and... yep, I'll be back soon."

Marlon scampered into the kitchen. Meanwhile, Brad put some kindling in the fireplace and set it alight, before heading to the bookshelf and studying the collie's collection. 'Ender's Game?' Brad read from the spine of a hardback. Pulling the book from the shelf, the wolf sank into the tattered sofa, opening the book, and starting to read whilst silently letting his appetite grow.

Marlon emerged a quarter-hour later, proudly bearing two steaming plates laden with the most mouth-watering food that the wolf could imagine. Brad took his seat at the dining table, while Marlon placed one plate before him. Nearly a whole rack of juicy lamb, steaming, sizzling and smothered in gravy, with vegetables, a couple of roasters and Yorkshire puddings around the edge. The wolf could easily have devoured the entire plateful there and then, so utterly ravenous he was. However, mindful of his host, he instead dug in his paws and pulled off a rib, stripping it clean in seconds, while Marlon settled down to his plate of shank with extra veg, tucking in with a knife and fork.

After the roast lamb, with treacle tart to finish, Brad and Marlon settled on the sofa, both canines full and satisfied. There they curled up snugly together, neither wanting nor needing to move, Brad with his paw behind Marlon, the collie leaning into the wolf's chest.

"Ender's Game?" Marlon picked the book off the arm of the sofa. "How'd you find it?"

"Oh, brilliant! I mean, I've only read a little bit, but they're interesting ideas, and fascinating characters. Child geniuses..."

Brad's voice trailed off. Sighing, he took his arm from Marlon's back, gazing solemnly at the ground.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Marlon reached up to the wolf's chin.

Bradley kept staring down. "It's stupid. I know it's just a story, but, thinking about all those 'briliant mind' people ... it got me thinking how... how bad things are going in my own life. Maybe I'm just jealous. But I look around at people, read about them, people who made something in their life. I could have done that. I was bloody well gonna do that. Then gradually, it all fell apart. Now what? What am I going to do now?"

The collie sighed. "Brad. I've known you for a long time. And life always seems... black-and-white to you. I guess what I'm trying to say is, life isn't always like that. Whatever hand you've been dealt in life, you can always make ought from it."

The wolf grunted, not fully convinced. Not that the collie didn't have a point, just that it wasn't the whole story. When some furs could stroll through life succeeding without batting an eyelid, and he had struggled and struggled and still got nowhere, the idea of 'doing your best' was little comfort. Bradley didn't know whether the collie had dreams, and talking about such big issues tended to upset the wolf. However Bradley had stopped believing in dreams, the day those results dropped on his doormat. Now he just drifted through life, like a leaf stirred by a passing train. How could Marlon see how that felt for the wolf, never having had his hopes dashed so cruelly?

Still, Brad tried to be reasonable. He was a bit old now to be throwing a temper. "But even if I was good enough..."

"You are."

"Even if... what would I do? It's too late now."

"What do you mean? It's never too late."

Bradley had grown despondent now, hunched on the sofa, with his arms crossed and head bowed. "I was sat at the station today. Watching all the furs rushing past me, going about their lives, all wrapped up in their self-important little worlds. And I realised, it doesn't matter whether I'm here or not. Their lives will go on with or without me. In the end... I don't matter."

Marlon was right in Brad's face, scowling at the wolf, his eyes welling up. Bradley had never seen him look so hurt before.

"Don't say that. You matter to me."

Yes, thought Brad. That was the problem.

Dropping out of university wasn't the worst of it, far from it. That was nothing, compared to when his parents found out about Marlon. After leaving university, his parents just ignored him, letting the pup cry everything out. When they found out about his little 'friend', three months ago, things were very, very different.

Although they hadn't always seen eye-to-eye, his family were still his pack, and he clung to any hope, any glimmer of hope, that he might be forgiven for his flaws. But once they knew about Marlon, that hope was dashed in a heartbeat. He could try denying it certainly. They hadn't exactly been caught in flagrante delicto. But the texts, and the e-mails, they were proof enough.

The first night they found his phone, they had dealt with him physically. But Bradley wasn't a pup any more, and it was rather crude for two fifty-something furs to discipline him that way. And so, the talks began. And those parables, those pearls of lupine wisdom, were far more terrible than anything he could suffer at his father's claws.

Marlon had heard the story before, many times. But for the wolf the memory was still raw, so Marlon let him tell it, one more time. After all those words, spoken to him that stormy February night, would gnaw at his mind for a very long time:

*

"We need to have a little chat, Bradley. About you and this... this boy, that you're seeing."

Bradley cringed at the word 'boy'. But he knew that running away would help nobody. So he pulled up a chair at the kitchen table, with his mother and his father. His mother spoke the most, her voice soft, sympathetic even; while his father stared gravely ahead, arms folded, nodding occasionally at his mate's words. How they both kept so calm the whole time, it just... irritated him.

"Okay, now Bradley, we want you to relax. We're just going to have a little talk, just the three of us, as a family. I mean, we've raised you, and looked after you since you were a pup. So no-one knows you better than we do. So, just a little talk, nothing else. Alright?" Bradley nodded.

"We know what you've been up to, and, well, to put it bluntly... we're concerned. You've got to understand, that this - Marlon, is that his name? - what you say you're feeling for him, it's not... natural. Basically, it's not the way things work in the world. The whole reason male wolves are put on this planet is to mate, yes, but with bitches. Raise whelps, have a family... I don't need to explain the mechanics. But two dogs, well, they just aren't... designed to mate each other, are they?"

"But it's not just that..."

"No Bradley, I'm not ignorant, I do know that. But whatever you say about his body or his musk or anything, that makes no difference. You like the smell of chicken, don't you? Well, that's what this is. Nothing adult about it."

This was just strange, hearing this from his parents. And they were wrong. So wrong.

"We're only looking out for you, Bradley. We've paid for you to go to private school, that wonderful private school you went to. Thousands and thousands of pounds, all those years of private school cost us, all out of our own pockets. All that education, the best start in life... thousands of pups would give everything they had to get into that school. You do know we've always done the best for you, don't you?"

He mumbled, gazing down at his paws. "Well, yeah, kind of..."

"Bradley," his father interrupted. "Don't be ungrateful."

"All right. Yes then," he growled through gritted teeth.

"We just don't want you to throw your life away. Right now your job's your priority, then next autumn, getting back into uni." He hated his parents using the term 'uni': a clumsy attempt to show how 'in touch' they were with young people. "We've let you get away with lots in the past. Remember when school almost expelled you for mauling that muntjac boy? Well, this is far more serious. This... lifestyle you're choosing, it's incredibly loaded. People change their opinions, you know, once you start messing around like that."

"Messing a- ? Well you know what? Maybe it's a phase, maybe not. But right now, all that matters for me... is that I'm happy, and... I'm happy with Marlon." He clenched the tablecloth, feeling his breath growing short.

"We don't have a problem with you making friends, but... I'm afraid we can't trust you with this boy any more. So Bradley, what we want you to do, tomorrow morning, is to call up this collie, and tell him you can't see each other any more."

The younger wolf growled incredulously. "What? You can't do that!"

"Cut that growling out!" his father interjected. His voice was low, with the tinge of a snarl. "I love you Bradley, and I'm as permissive as the next father. But I will not have my son ruining his life for the sake of some... cock-sucking poof."

That made him snap. Without thinking Bradley flew at the wolves in front of him. They pulled out of the way, but not before Bradley could swipe his claws, right across his mother's muzzle.

Time slowed. Bradley sank back to his chair, shaking, staring at his right paw, the tips of claws coated in scarlet. By the time he looked up, his father was staring right in his face, baring his teeth. "Who... do... you think you are? Lashing out at your own mother, like some feral?" Promptly his father 'suggested' he go to his room, warning him that if they heard any howling, he wouldn't get any meat for a week.

He couldn't have left the kitchen quickly enough, and was halfway up the stairs before his mother could even open her eyes again. He wished he could move out altogether. Rid himself of those wolves, those five proud lupines who stalked his very thoughts as a pack. But he had no money, and no family in the city. At least, no family who would talk to him since his 'queer friend' came on the scene. As for Marlon, he was a good hour-and-a-half away by train, even without changing in town. So until he found a new job, or a place of his own, or anything, he had to live with them. Of course, it was never laid out to him in black-and-white, but he couldn't have his family as well as Marlon. He had to choose. And he chose Marlon.

*

"So they know you're here now?"

"Yes, they know I'm here this weekend. But so what? I'm a full-grown wolf, they can't bloody stop me..."

He was getting wound up now. Marlon didn't say anything, but waited for Bradley to relax.

"I'm sorry. I guess that's why I want to stay with you. To share in something I'll never have. See you become something... I'll never be."

"Don't be ridiculous. You're here for the weekend, to have a nice long break away from work. Now, I only want one thing from you while you're staying with me, and that's to relax and enjoy the weekend. Promise?"

"Promise."

They paused. Bradley curled up, nestled into the scruff of fur on Marlon's neck.

"Hey. Marlon, I was wondering. How come you never did anything with your degree? You just stayed on the farm."

"Brad, I know what you're thinking. But there's a lot more to farming than standing in a field all day, watching the flock. Forget what they told you about farms in primary school, that died out sixty years ago. Farming is business now. It's a year-round job, and with lambing, breeding, working with suppliers, taking sheep to t' market... it needs a business brain as much as a farming one. But things here are really coming along of late. We've got two more farms lined up for purchase, two hundred ewes apiece. And we'll be moving into processing soon, hopefully, that means selling direct to t' stores. If both those plans go through, we'll be the biggest sheep farmers in t' whole of Lancashire!"

Bradley wanted to respond, to show that he could say something relevant. However listening to Marlon speak about his farm, his bright brown eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, killed the wolf's response, stone dead. "All I'm saying is... a mind like yours. You could have done anything. You didn't have to stay here."

Marlon nodded his head. "True. I don't have to stay here all my life. I could go into sales, say, or consultancy, or maybe even back into research... I mean, with my background, and a Vet Med degree, there's plenty of things I could do. But right now, I'm staying here on t' farm. It's experience, if nought else. There's only so much they can tell you about sheep in a lecture hall, or stuck in some office. Besides Brad, I'm a collie. What else am I going to do?"

"Touche."

"And there's more than that. My family's been on this farm for two hundred year. When my dad took it over, he started with nought. An' trust me, he worked like a dog possessed to turn this place 'round. I'm not prepared to sit back and watch some City fund come in an' tear this place to shreds for a quick profit. Country ways, country people, Brad."

"He meant a lot to you, didn't he?"

Marlon paused, for a long time. For the first time, Brad saw the sparkle in his eyes disappear. The collie's voice, when he finally spoke, was much softer. "We've said too much. Both of us. What d'you say we put on a film?"

Brad agreed, and Marlon picked out a comedy. Two hours, one box of chocolates and a lot of laughs later, both collie and wolf felt far more relaxed.

"Oh, that was brilliant!" Brad sat up on the sofa, rummaging through what remained of the chocolate box, searching for any of the 'good ones' he might have missed. However, he soon let the box fall to the floor with a grunt. "Damn toffee pennies!"

Marlon chuckled, flicking the television off with a remote before stretching right out on the sofa, lying across the wolf and gazing up at him. " 'Swear they only put those in to fill up t' box."

"Mm." Brad let his paw slip through the collie's patchwork black-and-white fur. "Listen Marlon, I'm sorry about earlier. It's just... my life's going downhill no matter what I do. And I just think, 'What have I done wrong?' Sorry, I know that just makes me sound like a little pup..."

Marlon took a breath. All that 'self-pity' talk was starting again.

"Maybe I just need to find something I can concentrate on. My own little calling. Like you and your farm."

"Maybe. But we'll work summat out, pet. You and I."

Brad turned his head slowly. "Think so?"

"Know so." Marlon shifted up, still leaning across the wolf, with their noses just inches apart. "I love you so much, wolfy-wolf."

There it was again. Just hearing those words, in that wonderful accent, made the wolf melt. "Thank you," was all he could muster. "I don't know... don't know why you keep thinking..."

"Shh..." Marlon interrupted, a paw to the wolf's lips. "It's alright. Trust me wolfy, it's alright."

The collie smiled, his free paw sliding up the wolf's thigh. Brad leaned into Marlon, wrapping his own arms slowly around the collie's shoulders. Both animals rubbed muzzles with half-closed eyes, the wolf's coarse brown pelt bristling beside the collie's downy fur, each canine tracing the other's neck and muzzle with little pecks and kisses, mouths drawing together slowly before meeting, and with a sharp breath intertwining. Both dogs relaxed into the embrace with a deep sigh, warm muzzles and tongues wrapping around each other, Marlon moaning ever so slightly as the wolf's gorgeous muzzle engulfed his own. For Marlon it felt so good, locked in the embrace with this beautiful animal, little ripples of warmth running right through to his toepaws as he leant against the wolf clutching onto his chest tight. He barely resisted as the wolf's paw moved across the sofa, stroking up the collie's thigh much as Marlon himself had stroked before, but soon circling inwards to stroke the growing bulge between the canine's legs. Marlon let slip a little whimper, losing himself in the moment as he felt fumblingly for the wolf's shirt, slipping open the first two buttons before the wolf broke the kiss with a growl, pulling away the collie's paw.

"What do you say we... get more comfortable upstairs?"

Marlon smiled. "Yes, let's."

Out of the living room, the collie led the way along the corridor, upstairs and along the landing, Brad landing several squeezes to that cute collie butt along the way. At the collie's bedroom, Marlon swung the wooden door open, turning on the light, whilst Bradley followed and closed the door to. This room, like all the others, was a complete mess, with various articles of clothing alongside the ubiquitous books and papers. However, amidst the chaos, the collie's double bed lay immaculately made, soft pillows and duvet complementing the display.

"Oh, not like you have any priorities, Marlon."

Marlon had no time to respond before the wolf seized him, pinning him to the door and closing it, snarling hungrily as they kissed once more, the collie trying his hardest to counter the larger animal but being practically devoured by that wet snarling muzzle. Thick piles of fur bristled beneath stifling clothes as their bodies pressed and ground together, the wolf holding the quivering collie still with his broad paws.

"Ah. Wolfy-wolf..."

This earned another growl of dominance from the wolf. "Mmm. You're mine, mutt."

"Not quite yet." Marlon took this chance to squirm free and slip down one side of the bed. Bradley immediately spun around, his eyes ablaze with excitement as he launched himself at the wayward collie, who sidestepped the wolf as he bundled head-first into the wall. Pivoting, he snapped his golden eyes around and charged after Marlon, snarling and scrambling on all fours. Marlon chuckled as he scurried around the bed on four paws as well, with a teasing twitch of the tail. Reaching another dead end across the room, the collie wheeled around and straight into the lupine's hungry stare. Brad crept towards the collie, closing in with long strides and forcing the collie back until he bumped into his bedside table. With a yip he jumped up sideways onto the bed, padding around gazing down with his paws and whiskers a-quiver. Meanwhile the wolf prowled around, his mane of neck fur bristling, stretching his body its full length and growling every time Marlon edged a paw towards the ground, while his jeans grew visibly tighter the whole time.

"So. The big wolf has t' collie cornered. How would he like to do this?"

"Mmm..." The wolf kept low to the ground, growling deep in his chest, eyeing his 'prey'. "Any way the collie wants. This wolf doesn't mind, as long as he has some fun with his collie-butt."

"Rrrowf!" Marlon turned his butt to the lupine, his long tail wag-wag-wagging furiously. "Alright then wolfy, as hard and as rough as you can. Make a little dog feel like he's mating a wolf, for once."

Bradley scowled. "What are you implying?"

"Whatever I'm implying... prove me wrong."

Bradley leapt onto the bed and atop Marlon in a single bound, paw on Marlon's chest to pin him on his back and jaws snapped to the collie's stomach. There, he teased the collie's shirt into his maw, warm breath tickling the collie's stomach fur, growling as he peeled the canine's shirt over his head and away, his heat building slowly as he stared at the collie's trim and lightly-toned chest, white-furred and fluffy. Marlon himself wasted no time in unbuttoning Brad's shirt once more, flicking each button open with a sly smile, now and again caressing the lupine's muzzle briefly before sliding further down. The wolf smiled at the little jolts as Marlon's eager paws pressed into his chest, snarling as he moved onto the collie's trousers, unfastening them, slipping away both trousers and underwear in one movement. Marlon, now naked, grinned as the wolf loomed snarling, his shirt open and his muscles rippling. He slid down the bed, gliding a gentle paw along the contours of the wolf's body, the lupine form carefully sculpted from lean muscle and dusty fur. Already Marlon's sheath was nice and hard, as his paws reached up to gently clutch the sizeable tightness in the wolf's jeans. This drew an instantaneous growl from the wolf, elongated as Marlon snapped the jeans open, slipping them carefully away along with Brad's boxers. Thus once Bradley had kicked his jeans aside, he too was entirely bereft of clothing. And at that moment, Marlon felt like the luckiest collie alive: for not only was the lupine's heavenly body right above him, but also the biggest and fullest sheath he had ever seen. He tugged the sheath gently, gently as he dared, mindful of the wolf's tenderness. Inches of lupine length slid slickened from their furry home, snaking back inside before Marlon's paws guided them out once more while the wolf above growled the whole time. Soon the collie's eyes grew wide, and he paused a while just to take in the sight of the lupine length, eight inches long with the knot still to emerge, standing ominously to attention before his nose, radiating the intoxicating musky scent of lupine arousal.

Bradley's length quivered. A string of clear fluid dropped from the tapered tip, hitting the collie's nose. This was all up to Marlon now.

Holding firmly to the wolf's hips, Marlon reached his muzzle up to give the thick lupine length a slow lick. Even this slightest of touches made the wolf shudder. He could have growled, really let go there and then, but he steeled himself ahead of the pleasure he knew was coming. Then Marlon licked his lips, opened wide, and gradually took his big wolfy into his maw, curling his tongue right around and gorging himself on the hot wolf meat.

Brad kept his forepaws planted on the bed, and guided by Marlon's gentle skilled paws the lupine lowered his hips as the collie devoured him. Now he could growl, twisting his body and flicking his tail as his whole body ran hot with the pleasure emanating from his crotch. The canine underneath wrapped his muzzle right around to ensnare the wolf completely, locking his muzzle into place before sliding back and forth, back and forth, working into a steady rhythm, reaching up his paws to caress the wolf's sheath and furry twitching balls. Marlon's own modest length emerged now from its warm confines, stiffening and dotting drops of canine fluid all over his stomach fur. Soon the lupine was growling fearsomely, bucking his hips forward into the collie's muzzle very slowly and very deliberately, his wolfhood already starting to swell. The wolf had mated plenty of animals, bitches and dogs alike bringing out the lupine's animal side. But none were anywhere near as talented as that wonderful canine he was mating right there and then. That muzzle. And those paws. Oh God... One sharp buck and Bradley froze with a mighty growl, quivering as he fired a thick gout of liquid straight into Marlon's eager twitching muzzle.

"Whoa, easy there wolfy..." Marlon pulled back, clutching a paw to the wolf's oozing length and gazing up with a mischievous spark in his eyes. Bradley stared back, eyes locked on the collie who held him in his grip. "More?"

Bradley desperately wanted to whimper, to cuddle up and bask in that tense warmth before his imminent climax. But wolves do not whimper. The collie, yes, he could whimper by all means; but he, the wolf, the proud wild predator, was the one in charge tonight.

"You'll get that soon, don't worry about that. But tonight..." He growled deep in his chest. "... I'm claiming my collie."

Marlon grinned. "Lead on."

The wolf reached down, grasping the scruff of Marlon's neck and pulling him back up the bed. Marlon shuffled into position and lay still, just waiting for the wolf's next move. With a grin and a growl the wolf lowered himself atop the collie, guided into place by the collie's tender paws. They pressed together chest-to-chest, their closest yet, Marlon sighing happily and flattening his ears as he sunk into the duvet under the bigger wolf's weight. Their breath was warm, heated, the wolf's with just the tinge of a snarl. Their eyes met, the collie gazing dimly at the wolf's golden hues, each glazed lupine eye surrounded by a patch of grey. The wolf gazed too, not only into the collie's eyes but also at his muzzle, not actually pure white but marked with tiny blotches of grey. Such a stunning canine, all his for the taking.

With one paw, Bradley reached down to the collie butt, letting his claws tease under the collie's tail. He gave a quizzical growl; and Marlon, with nearly-closed eyes, gestured to the bedside table. Brad reached over to the top drawer, rummaging around to find what he was after, a nearly-full tube. Unscrewing the cap, he squeezed the tube a little, lathering the cool contents between the tips of his paws. Panting with his nose pressed to the collie's, the wolf reached down and behind him, paw gripping above Marlon's tail, then grinning craftily he rubbed briskly over the tight canine rump to smother the gel all around his passage. Marlon barked and wriggled underneath the big wolf, panting rapidly and twitching his hind paw, with another playful grin spread across his muzzle. He knew that, pinned here under this massive brown-furred wolf with absolutely no way to escape, he would very soon be in unparalleled ecstasy.

Squeezing the tube again, Brad gave himself a good coat, brushing his rough furry paws all over his length and jerking a little himself at the cool sensation. Marlon reached up a paw to the wolf's muzzle, but Bradley pulled it away before tracing along the collie's slim toned figure, letting his claws trail through soft black-and-white fur. Marlon leaned into the wolf's paw with a gentle moan.

"Go easy, wolfy-wolf. You're absolutely huge."

This earned another gruff grunt, before Bradley growled and bared his teeth, his ears bolt upright the entire time. Keeping the collie pinned on his back, he slid slowly down the bed, propping himself up with one forepaw, spreading the collie's thighs wide and nestling his hips into position with a long low growl. With his paw, he guided the tip of all those glorious inches of wolf to the collie's tail.

Underneath his weight, he felt the little collie shudder. His ear flicked, catching Marlon whisper "Oh boy oh boy..." just a little too loud. Neither dared breathe, each second, each agonising heartbeat now just another moment before they united, copulated, maybe knotted, definitely mated. This was it. The culmination of all their actions that evening, an expression of passion that could never be extinguished, and a symbol of two soon-to-be-satiated canines in complete unrequited and incommensurable love.

And all it took was a push of the hips.

Wolf and collie both gasped, slowly breathing harder and harder before breaking into rapid heated growls and grunts as the wolf prised the collie open, clutching at the bedsheets as the collie rose into his mate, grasping at the wolf's pelt with a fevered whine. Marlon tried to suppress it and instead let forth a furious whimper, but when the wolf commanded 'let it out, mutt' he pointed his muzzle to the ceiling with a loud plaintive howl. This turned into a succession of howls and loud yelps, eventually trailing into a scratchy whine as the lupine drove in deeper. The canine squirmed and bucked up sharply, trembling and breathing frantically, but Bradley kept his grip, nuzzling the sheepdog and kissing his neck to keep him calm. Their warm breath mingled as the collie twisted and rippled to accommodate even more of the lupine. His muzzle twisted at the utter pain and pleasure of the lupine plunging into him, his tender tail squeezing and clamping over the marauding wolf, and his little paws scrabbling desperately over the lupine's back.

Amidst the gentle whispers of animals in the rut... 'I love you'... 'so close'... the two canines pressed together, deeper and deeper until Bradley had sunk into the collie as far as he could. He wrapped his arm around the collie, licking the sheepdog's muzzle as he squirmed and moaned. A shake of the wolf's hips brought forward a whimper, a real whimper of longing and want. Then, with what Marlon could only describe as a monstrous growl, the wolf began to thrust.

The first stroke drew a moan from the collie, replied to with a gruff chuckle from the canine and an even firmer second thrust into the collie. And then, right there, that night, in the little farmhouse on Darwen Peak miles from the world, Bradley and Marlon began to mate, face to face and nose to wet twitching nose, each dog watching for every slight twitch or giddy smile on the other's muzzle, the wolf very quickly building to a fearsome rhythm.

Marlon shuddered and bared his teeth, drinking in the lupine's heat and musk, utterly powerless to stop the lupine even had he wanted to. He yelped, bouncing happily beneath the lupine, every stroke grinding him down into the bedclothes as the wolf tupped him like a ram. It was such a change, seeing this side to an animal who was normally so reserved and standoffish, a side to the wolf that only Marlon ever saw. And he loved his wolfy for it. Loved him, just like he loved the wolf's quirky taste for kung-fu films, or ginger beer, or even how he cuddled up extra tight on stormy afternoons. Just knowing that he could bring out this side to the wolf, wild and intimate all at once, Marlon couldn't have been happier. And now he was here, locked together with this stunning creature, he did the only thing he could at this stage: hold on for dear life.

The wolf jerked back, actually pulling clean of the collie and penetrating again in the same thrust. Marlon's eyes widened, his giddy smile broadening even more as he yelped and shuddered, the lupine's rough rutting only stimulating him more. The sensation of the wolf plundering his deepest reaches never failed to leave him yelping blissfully. What really made the collie twitch with anticipation, however, was that should said wolf be aroused just enough, a thick lupine knot would be his reward, giving in total a full eleven inches of glorious wolf, stretching and filling up the collie in the most unbelievable and indescribable of ways.

What was more, every time the wolf reamed into the collie, he bumped headfirst into something, a knot of nerves deep in the collie that sent a sharp shiver up his spine. Every thrust drew a yip, and with the speed and power that the lupine was now thrusting, the collie was soon yipping very happily indeed.

Needless to say, as Marlon sank further into total incoherence, one lone wolfen paw skilfully wrapped around his length would have driven him to utter rapture. However, the weight of the wolf atop him, that taut stomach and all that coarse fur, bristling, teasing, tickling over his most tender zone, all combined, were more than enough to drive the collie towards a magnificent climax without any paws whatsoever. At one point the wolf did indeed reach his paw between their bodies, gripping the dog's throbbing member and stroking hard. Marlon didn't deny how delicious that broad wolfy paw felt wandering all over his tender flesh. All the same he pulled it away, letting the wolf resume his bucking once more while he himself dipped and twisted his whole body against the wolf. They were in this together, and regardless of what Bradley thought, they were going to come together or as near as damn it. Indeed the collie's poor member was now well and truly sandwiched between them, stroked and stimulated in ways he had never thought possible. And watching the huge wolf howling and rutting him so viciously was more than the collie could handle. With only a few more strokes from the wolf, Marlon tensed up, quivering and quivering, before with a final 'I love you' the collie tipped his head back, barking and barking to the four walls as he jerked in the lupine's grasp, and at long long last he fired his collie cum, long sticky strands of thick collie cream erupting from his tortured member with nowhere to go, and so gathering in the space between the canines' midriffs and soaking into their stomach fur, while at the same time the wolf's grinding mixed and smothered it in, a sweet creamy filling to their warm canine sandwich.

Even now, looming above him, the lupine did not let up in his assaults. Marlon whimpered pitifully, and in the warmth of his afterglow let his arms fall slack, thus leaving the wolf in total control. Bradley ploughed into the collie, remorselessly, even as his lover howled out for more. Every move the wolf made, every slightest twitch or stroke, was met by another from the collie. And even now, with his every essence locked into mating, Brad was so happy that his collie too was in such ecstasy. Yes he was a wolf, and a wolf has instincts to mate, to breed, to drive his body into howling climax. But he was no feral, and every little drop of pleasure that he gave the collie, or the collie him, made their encounter just that bit more wonderful. Arching and writhing his body in harmony with the collie, Bradley could quite easily have thundered to a spectacular peak of his own accord. There was however one last task, one final act that the collie could undertake which would drive the wolf into utter euphoria.

"The claws, dog, the claws!" Brad shouted through his furious panting.

Marlon was so pleased, finally granted permission to tip the wolf over the edge. At once he obliged, sinking his claws deep into that tough wolf flesh. The shock to his lover was instant. The wolf howled loud, twisting and biting hard onto the wooden headboard and grinding his razor-sharp teeth into the wood, howling and drooling as the shock from the claws and the lust for the collie made his whole body twitch and a fresh drop of fluid spill from his length.

There as absolutely no way the wolf could turn back now, no force in heaven or earth that could wrench the wolf from his gorgeous collie. Finally, unable to take any more, the lupine gave two vicious bucks before letting rip with a ferocious howl, long and loud and proud, every last inch a wolf, his loins twitching and a well-known tight sticky warmth engulfing him as finally, finally, he erupted in massive spurts of lupine semen, so forceful that Marlon felt each and every one even despite being stuffed full of lupine. For what felt like hours he was howling, broken, forceful as he filled his collie, jerking as he swelled still further until soon a full eleven inches of wolf and knot was locked deep into the collie.

The collie himself, long since lost to his own climax, nonetheless brought his paws to the enraptured lupine, there for him in this most blissful and most vulnerable of times. He nestled into the fur of his big musky wolf, arching his back and bucking into the wolf, their stomach fur all matted and sticky.

"Wolfy... oh wolfy...."

There, together, in the collie's little farmhouse, the wolf's world melted away in a blissful haze. He collapsed on the bedsheets atop the collie, utterly exhausted from their exertions, wrapping his arms right around and clutching the collie tight. He knew he was now bound to the collie for a very long time, tied while he filled his collie to the very last drop. He nestled his chin into the collie's neck, ruffling his scruff of fur with his warm breath, bucking occasionally even now as he weathered the very last of his climax. And just for that moment, nothing in the world mattered, save for two things: the warm soft quilt on which he lay; and the collie, to whose body he clung as his climax flooded him, bucking down, whispering into his fur: 'I love you too'.

For nine months, Bradley had been lost, adrift in a world where, just like the crowds at Central Station, he simply did not matter. But with Marlon beside him, he knew he would find his paws once more. Happy and satisfied beside his gorgeous collie, Bradley nestled into the duvet, growling in complete contentment as he waited for sleep.

However, just as the two canines felt themselves drifting into slumber, they cocked their ears, mumbling sleepily as they opened their eyes wearily. Outside, a dreadful din had picked up, the sound of beasts lowing in their stalls.

Marlon smiled. "Sounds like you startled the sheep, Brad."

Bradley shifted slightly, waiting for Marlon to slink out of bed and see to the flock. However Marlon laid still, gazing down, studying his messy stomach fur for a few moments. Then with a little chuckle he pulled the wolf back atop him, kissing his muzzle softly.

"Don't worry, wolfy. We'll take care of them tomorrow."

By Ziegenbock