# Study Session Author: Tony Greyfox Tags: M/M, Raccoon, Skunk Study Session By Tony Greyfox * * * Books. Hundreds of them. Thousands, even. Scattered across the expanses of the library's main room, up the walls, across the shelves, along the stacks... everywhere. Erik stood in the open space at the top of the stairs, turning slowly, his tail brushing the railings.. He'd just come up through five floors of just this - books, books everywhere, and not a sign of anything resembling a directory. Just pages upon pages of information, details, diagrams, of everything but what he needed... directions to the comparative theology section. The young skunk yawned, and checked his watch. About an hour before the Main Library closed, he noted; hopefully, his little information search wasn't going to have to be a two-day thing, he pondered. Yawning again and scratching his pointed muzzle thoughtfully, he decided to take another pass down the stairs. That technique proved to be fairly worthwhile; a rabbit wheeling a cart of books emerged from the stacks as he reached the fourth floor. He smiled happily and diverted course. "Excuse me, Miss?"   The lupin, busily searching the shelves, leaped in surprise, catapulting the book she'd been replacing high into the air. Erik instinctively stepped back and showed the skills he'd learned playing football, making a fair catch of the heavy tome before it could crash to the ground. He grinned sheepishly. "Sorry about that," he apologized. She blinked at him a couple of times, her eyes wide. "Where did you come from?" she stammered. "I was upstairs." He pointed to the stairs behind him. "I've been looking for some help, and you're the first person I've seen since I came in." Straightening her spectacles, the rabbit appeared to calm down again, then took another look at him, noting the black tail with its distinctive white stripes. Her nostrils flared, something Erik saw entirely too often around furs who didn't have a lot of experience with skunk-morphs, and she stepped back, her nose crinkling and floppy ears drooping. "There aren't that many people on campus over the summer," she managed. "What did you want?"   "I'm looking for the Comparative Theology section." "Oh!" she exclaimed. "You've gone the wrong way." Drawing a small map from the pocket of her sweater, she stepped closer, then shot another glance at him and stopped the advance, handing him the scrap of paper. "When you came in, you were on the third floor. That's on the first - just take the stairs all the way down, turn to your right." Erik took the paper, noting wryly the flinch as he touched her hand. She'll probably go wash her hands now, he thought; aloud, he simply said "Thank you for your help." She nodded and wheeled her cart away down the aisles again. Grumbling to himself about stupid species prejudices, Erik started down the stairs again. When he ran out of down, Erik sneezed - the dust generated by old books often irritated his sensitive nose - and puzzled over the paper again, then checked his watch once more - he still had 45 minutes to find the information he needed for the project he was working on, a study of the Shinto religion and arts. His Masters degree courses were well into the toilet, but at least he'd found an interest - and a potential magazine freelancing position for a few different groups, some of which might be interested in his current studies.   A small sign in the subterranean first floor of the ancient building directed him to the proper location, and the skunk was soon happily poring over the musty volumes in the obviously less-than-popular section; some of the books had a neat layer of dust on them, and others were yellowing, the pages cracking as he flipped the covers open. Engrossed in an older study of Kamakura-period works, Erik shuffled around the end of the stack, and suddenly found himself flat on the floor. "Oh!" a slightly accented voice exclaimed from somewhere above as Erik got his tail untangled from his feet and tried to get out from under the books he'd knocked down on the way down. "Are you okay, there?" A paw caught his upper arm and lifted, helping him up; Erik brushed the fur out of his eyes irritably and blinked at his benefactor. The raccoon looked at him, concernedly. "You all right, man?" he asked again, the black and white fur around his eyes giving him a worried expression that looked to be permanent. "Sorry about that. My tail gets away from me when I'm concentrating sometimes." He curled the offending appendage around his ankles like a grey-and-black striped legwarmer and grinned selfconsciously.   Erik found himself grinning back at the shorter fur, leaning against the stacks and cradling a large book. "No problem. I should have been watching where I was going, I guess. I sort of lose track when I'm studying." "I noticed. You weren't making a sound, either." The 'coon bent down lithely to pick up Erik's book, and glanced at it. "Kamakura arts, huh? I always liked that period. Very elegant works, but there's a lot to be said for the earlier styles, too." Erik regarded the fur openly. "I don't know," he replied. "The thing that interests me about the 13th and 14th Centuries is how the creators started working more with their own ideas and deities, rather than a combination with Buddhism, before Shinto really became its own entity." "Sure," the raccoon nodded, his tail sweeping around as he turned and pulled a book off the shelf. "But look at the detail in this sculpture, late Fujiwara. It's almost lifelike! I mean, sure, the Kamakura was a regal period, and there was more color to a lot of it, but this is just... so smooth!" He brandished the book, with its color plate of a wooden sculpture, towards Erik.   Erik grinned at the almost fanatic tone in the other fur's discourse. "The carvers were excellent, even before that period, but it was around 1200 when they really reached their peak, when the shrines started to develop a more Imperial feel to them; most of the existing shrines are patterned after those creations, after all." "Oh, sure, of course anyone creating this stuff would be influenced by something as colorful and gaudy as that. There's a lot to be said about color, too." Replacing the book, the 'coon drew another off the shelf. "Ugh," he grumbled. "Who let \_this\_ in here?" "Lowell, right?" Erik asked, recognizing the paperback. "Occult Japan." The 'coon looked up at him. "Yeah. I read parts of this, you can really tell it was written at the turn of the 20th Century." He bared his tiny, sharp fangs at the tome. "And that he was overly on the Christian side." "'His accounts are startling in their frankness and objectivity, neither underestimating nor romanticizing the Shinto religion, but presenting its many contradictions with candor and literary grace,'" Erik quoted from the book's back cover blurb, which he had read and scoffed at a number of times - that particular book had been one of the first he had found on Shinto and had been remarkably bad, he thought. "That guy needed to relax. Try to understand the religion, rather than try and make it seem so different, so alien. Then again, his audiences were interested more in the rustic nature of the East, I guess."   His new companion laughed quietly. "You know a fair bit about this stuff, but I've never seen you around Buchanan, or in the Arts annex," the 'coon noted. "Are you on the faculty, or something?" It was Erik's turn to laugh. "No, no, I dropped out about halfway through my Masters in Asian Studies. I'm a writer, I freelance stuff. One of my clients expressed an interest in a comparative piece between modern Shinto and Buddhist artistic styles." "Mind if I steal that for my thesis?" The 'coon extended one black-furred paw. "The name's Colin. I'm just starting my Masters, same program." "If you want advice, run for it now," the skunk commented wryly, shaking the paw. "Erik." "I can't. The boat already left." He tossed the Lowell book over his shoulder and picked another one out. "Here's one that you'd like," he indicated. "'Buddhism and Shinto: Mother and Daughter.'" "Sounds like a Nancy Friday book." Erik stepped closer and looked over Colin's shoulder, noting the fresh scent of his fur as the 'coon flipped through pages, picking out different photos and details as he went, displaying a real knowledge of Japanese arts. He stopped finally, and turned to look at Erik. "It's a shame this book is so out of date; they really did a nice job of restoring this shrine after the Kobe earthquake," he explained. "I was there for the dedication ceremony."   Erik nodded appreciatively. "I was wondering how you had so much knowledge about the culture. Thought you were just a bookworm, or something." "The only way to really experience that culture is to be there," Colin remarked, as his eyes took on a yearning glint. "It's beautiful. You should go." The two settled in after that, discussing various aspects of art and Asian culture amiably; they obviously shared many interests and thought patterns; both finished the other's sentences on occasion and laughed about it afterwards. Erik felt himself growing to like the little 'coon, something that he rarely did. Most often, his somewhat standoffish personality, combined with a healthy dose of cynicism, put people off. With Colin, though, he seemed more relaxed, even for knowing the 'coon for only half an hour. Their conversation was interrupted finally by the library loudspeakers, which grumbled, then announced that the library would be closing in ten minutes. Colin stood, regretfully. "We'd better get out of here before they lock us in for the night with the nuts," he said, hoisting his pack and digging out a keyring that Erik remembered was for an on-campus residence.   Gathering his own selection of books, Erik stood as well, thinking. "Hey, you want to pop out to the Village and grab a coffee?" he suggested. "Maybe we can talk about working together on stuff like this." The 'coon pondered for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, sure. I should see what's around here for shops anyhow." Together, they moved through the checkout - Erik noticed the lapin he'd run into earlier duck away and wave a human clerk over as he came up the stairs - then wandered their way north, towards the University Village area. If there was one thing the University of B.C. wasn't lacking in, it was back alleys. Finding one's way around the campus guaranteed using at least one, somewhere along the way. Unfortunately, the campus cowboys often forgot that fact, and problems can occasionally crop up, especially after dark. Colin and Erik were busily debating the differences between Imperial and Shogunate artistic figures, following Erik's familiar exit route, when three figures emerged from the darkness near a building. Erik stopped, uncertain, as the large beings moved close.   "Well, what've we got here?" someone growled. The bit of light emanating from far-off streetlamps showed a human face, and the other two looked similar, Erik thought. "Someone's come to visit, guys!" The other two chuckled in response, and Erik's blood started to run a little colder. Colin looked back at them, then glanced over to Erik with a worried expression. "Uh, we're just coming through, if you don't mind...." he managed. "No, you're not," the large man snarled, as the others moved in behind him. "You goddamn furs think you're so superior, but we know better. You don't even know not to wander alone after dark." His hands flexed and he stepped closer, and both furs recognized that an attack was imminent. Most humans around the world accepted the fact that furs had essentially taken over the United States during the Race Wars in the mid-1980s. They hadn't started the war; their creators and masters had given them rights, education, then decided they didn't want smart animals and tried to eliminate their creations quietly. Unfortunately, their creations, thanks to a short breeding cycle, were a significant part of the population; thanks to their human intelligence, combined with instinctive knowledge, the creatures created in 1943 by American scientists were able to organize themselves and face the armed assaults for two full years.   A last resort weapon was developed quickly by scientists, a virus that would seek out the genomes present in furs and kill them quickly, with no need for ammunition expenditures. The military dispersed canisters of the virus through the country. A mistake had been made. Instead of hunting down the furs' genomes, the designers had slipped, or the virus had mutated while they weren't looking, and, while several hundred furs with recessively human genetic material died horribly, so did sixty percent of the population of North America, mostly south of the 49th Parallel. What was left of the Canadian government immediately condemned the American reaction and (after the virus had died off) built themselves an addition that extended south to the Rio Grande; they then offered the surviving furs, whose population was slightly higher than the human population in North America, recognition that they were a unique, distinct society (which upset Quebec greatly) and equal rights with humans. They accepted, thankfully, and life had gone on.   Unfortunately, some humans had disagreed with that particular decision. Three of them charged Erik and Colin, the leader aiming for the distinctively black-and-white marked fur. Erik automatically turned the attack into a shoulder throw, watching his assailant thud onto the nearby lawn. Spinning, another of the humans charged him; the skunk snarled and charged, raking the other being across the face with his small claws. "Argh!" the man yelled, falling out of the fight. As he set himself for the next assault, Erik noted that the third of their tormentors was slowly stalking the smaller raccoon, who didn't look to be a fighter. Making a snap decision, the skunk charged, tackling the male from behind and winding him. He then grabbed Colin and placed himself between the three, who were regrouping. "You cut my face up, you motherfuckin' bastard!" the injured assailant hissed at Erik. "I'll tear out your fuckin' balls for that!" "What, you need replacements, yours too small?" Erik retorted. The man growled as the two smaller furs backed up, into a darker portion of the alley.   "Oh, you're dead, you fuck!" The three looked at one another, then all bolted forward, trying to close the 40 feet of space between their prey and themselves. Erik saw them coming and hurled Colin away from him. Grabbing the waist band of the baggy shorts he was wearing, he spun, raised his tail, and proved to the oncoming attackers that skunkmorphs are equipped just like their wild relatives - he fired a jet of musk from the glands near his tail. All three of the humans went down howling, grabbing their faces and trying to clear the burning fluid from their eyes, noses and mouths. The leader had been snarling at the time, and had caught most of the barrage in the mouth; he was busily retching his dinner all over himself and his partners. Colin was gaping at the three while Erik readjusted his clothing. "I didn't know skunks could do that!" he exclaimed. "We don't do it very often, unless it's important," Erik replied modestly. "We have enough of a problem with that whole smell thing without people thinking we're going to spray them all the time." He glanced at his victims, writhing on the pavement. "Now let's get the hell out of here before they recover!"   The 'coon, in complete agreement, followed his companion as they ran off the campus. "So how long have you been in Vancouver?" Erik inquired, lapping a bit of the foamy whipped cream from the mocha in front of him and enjoying the silky feeling as it eased across his tongue. Across from him in the booth, Colin peered out the window and watched a bus drift by. "I came in just after the end of last year's school. Thought I'd get here and get settled well before courses started." He sipped at the strong coffee in front of him and nodded. "This is great coffee. You know, I've never been here," he added, casting a glance around the room. "You kidding? The Varsity's a favorite with UBC students. Their food is even better than the coffee." Erik grinned at the counter man, an older Chinese gentleman whose family had run the restaurant for 30 years and knew Erik by sight. He smiled back at the compliment and waved. "I come here a lot - I just live a few blocks away, and I find this is the perfect spot to bring people for business."   The 'coon regarded him over the rim of his mug. "And pleasure?" "Well, that too." Erik grinned at his companion. "Not that I've had much of that lately." "Hmm." The 'coon looked out the window once again with a pensive expression. "This sure beats the weather back home," he breathed, as a smattering of rain scattered across the street, sending pedestrians scurrying for cover. Erik watched for a moment. "Where's home?" he inquired quietly. "I'm originally from New Zealand, my folks bailed out just before the War. We raised sheep, believe it or not. Nice place, but it's got even worse weather than this place." Colin sighed, swirling a mouthful of coffee, then sat straight up. "When this opening came up, I jumped at it. I don't want to deal with sheep for the rest of my life." "I know what you mean, Colin. I came here to get out of the forests - my dad's a logger. I like the outdoors, just not that much." A long silence drifted down over the two furs, broken by occasional laughter from another table nearby, where a grey fox and wolf were giggling and trying to feed one another noodles with chopsticks, with less-than-perfect results. It was kind of depressing - relationships were one thing that Erik was quite poor at, and his last one, with a human freelancer he'd met several months before, had fallen apart when   she decided he wasn't as interesting as his dark furry body made him out to be. "They look happy, don't they?" Colin's question brought him out of his reverie, and he turned to see the black-masked male looking in the same direction he had been. "Eh, relationships are overrated." With a chuckle, Erik drained his coffee. "You're probably right. The fringe benefits are nice, though." "Who needs a relationship for that?" Colin murmured, still watching the other furs, who were giggling wildly over the contents of a fortune cookie. Erik regarded him for a moment, trying to interpret that comment, then shook his head slightly and tossed one of the cookies from the middle of the table at the rapt 'coon. Breaking his open, he munched down on half, and unrolled the scrap of paper. "Take chances; sometimes a chance is all you need for happiness," he read aloud, then cocked an eyebrow at it, brushed fur from his eyes and looked over at his companion. "What's yours say?" "Uh..." Glancing down, the raccoon actually looked embarrassed; his rounded ears flickered. "It says, 'Friendship can lead to love with the right nurturing.' Silly, huh?" His eyes met Erik's, questioning, then dropped again.   Erik reached across the table and touched Colin's paw; the 'coon looked again into his eyes, and smiled. "It's not as silly as you think." The other fur closed his paw, warmly, around Erik's. "No. Maybe not." Pulling out his wallet, the skunk tossed money on the table, and stood. "C'mon." "Where are we going?" the 'coon asked. Erik smiled. "Let's go nurture some friendship." An odd silence had held between the two while they walked the four blocks to Erik's rented house; neither seemed to want to disrupt the connection they had made leaving the restaurant. Nikki, Erik's occasionally constant companion, meowed a hello from her perch over the door as he rummaged around and found his keys. "Decided to stay home tonight, huh?" he grinned at her; she cocked an ear and looked curiously at Colin, who returned the look. Swinging the door open, he flipped on a light and dropped his gear in the hall closet, then waved the raccoon in. "Come on in, make yourself at home," he invited. Colin peered around the living room, taking inventory of the various trinkets and pieces of furniture scattered around. He stopped right where Erik expected him to, and his eyes grew large. "Oh, my," he breathed, stepping closer to the mantel and the sheath that hung over it.   "I got that a couple years ago, from a friend in the antiques business," Erik said, smiling and stepping past the amazed 'coon and gently taking the katana from its hook. "He thought it was a piece of shit, was going to throw it out. As near as I can tell, it's from the mid-13th Century." The jeweled scabbard glinted as he drew the keenly-honed, curved blade, its working still showing the thousands of folds its long-dead creator had slaved over, likely for six months or so, probably on the orders of a samurai warrior. Hilt-first, he offered the weapon to his new friend. "Feel the balance of that thing. It's absolutely gorgeous." Gently, Colin took the katana and looked carefully at the damasked edge and the silver wrappings of the hilt, then flipped the sword in his paw. Shifting quickly, he made three practiced cuts of the air and planted himself in a classic Japanese pose. Erik grinned at the incongruity. "Ooh, ronin raccoon!" he chuckled, starting to laugh. The 'coon held the pose stoically for a second, then broke down giggling, stepping forward and resheathing the sword. Erik, still giggling, tossed the blade onto a nearby chair, and turned to find Colin standing close to him. Two grey-furred arms slid around his chest and tightened, drawing him in. He regarded the 'coon's face as their laughter stopped, felt the softness of him pressed to his body, the pleasant warmth of his arms, and returned the gesture.   "You feel tense," Colin whispered. "Worried?" Erik nodded slightly. "This has never happened before... I've never felt this sudden attachment to someone before. It's sort of weird." "I know what you mean," the raccoon murmured, as their lips met. Muzzle to muzzle, the two males held each other tight as their lips parted slowly, Erik lightly brushing the other's teeth with his tongue, having them open, and the soft, hot flesh of the raccoon's tongue meeting his followed. He moaned, drawing his claws down the fabric covering Colin's back, getting a muffled "mmph!" and a flexing of the muscles in response. Finally, the kiss broke, reluctantly, and the two gazed at one another for a long moment. Untangling himself from their embrace, Colin stepped back and drew the blue shirt over his head, exposing a well-formed upper body, a light layer of muscles flexing under the grey, black and white fur there. Erik followed suit, removing his own light vest, and looked at the 'coon once again. Both of them giggled, and Colin dove at him, knocking him onto the floor, where they rolled together, tickling one another, scratching in the spots each knew were the tender ones, trading kisses and nibbles until both were exhausted and stopped, curled together in a ball of sleek fur.   Erik trailed one paw down his partner's back, coming to the base of the ringed, bushy tail, caressing the firm muscles there and squeezing the sensitive barrel. Colin hissed, and rolled his body against Erik's, pressing his groin to the skunk's hip. "Like that, huh?" Erik whispered into the rounded ear, trailing his tongue along the rim and getting an appreciative shudder for his trouble. Rolling back, Erik lifted his hips up and yanked off his shorts, tossing them aside, then grasped the waistband of Colin's own shorts and drew them off. He knelt next to the smaller fur, admiring the view for a moment, then slid his paw up Colin's right thigh, barely touching the tightened sac there before softly encircling his furry sheath, the pink tip of his erection showing. A sharp intake of breath told him his actions were having the desired effect, and he stroked, feeling the blood rushing to engorge the member he held. Sliding even with the 'coon, he pressed their muzzles together again, tongues winding almost on their own, and his other paw stroked Colin's head and ears again.   A paw moved down Erik's back, following the wide white stripe, and trailed along his tail, which lay in a fan across their thighs as he stroked Colin's erection to life. The paw located his own sheath, where his own excitement was already in evidence, and gripped his prick firmly, moving up and down the shaft with determination. "Hang on," Erik whispered as he felt waves of ecstasy starting to build from the soft, manipulative paw that was working him, and eased back onto his knees. Dropping down, he looked up at Colin's face once again, then engulfed the 'coon's reddening cock, tasting the sweet flesh as he pressed it deep into his muzzle. Colin moaned incoherently and held Erik's head with one paw as the skunk started to lick his way up and down the long, narrow shaft, curling his long tongue around the head, then nibbling down the length before sucking the length back into his muzzle. Once again, the raccoon managed to reach down and take control of Erik's member, which was hardening even more, he thought.   The raccoon's hips started to jerk in response to Erik's minstrations, and he abruptly stopped, raising himself to his haunches, a string of pre-cum stretching from his own sheath to Colin's hand as he did. "C'mon," he ordered, grabbing one hand. "This carpet's starting to make me itch." Colin obediently followed along as Erik led him up the stairs to the bedroom; as soon as he turned on the light, the 'coon tackled him onto the big queen bed, kissing him firmly, then pushing him back when he tried to roll over. "My turn," he smiled, before taking Erik's thick, firm erection into his warm mouth. Erik smiled blissfully and lay back to enjoy the sensations. Colin gripped the shaft at the base and licked all around, rolling Erik's balls gently, and finally sank it deep into his throat with a soft sucking sound. He bobbed up and down, the head bumping against his tight throat, changing speeds, first quickly driving up and down, then slowing to an agonizing crawl that had Erik squirming and pushing his hips up to meet his lover's strokes.   "Gods, that's so nice," he whispered; the 'coon lifted up, pumping with his fist, and smiled over Erik's chest at him, then dove back down. The skunk felt it building, a fiery ball of sexual release low in his belly, and he grunted, his entire body twitching. Colin caught the signals and slowed his pace until Erik's face relaxed and he lay back with a wry grin, then redoubled his efforts. He repeated that pattern three more times, until Erik actually growled with anguish as the pressure built, then drove the skunk's cock entirely into his mouth. With a yelp, Erik came, a pulse that started somewhere in his chest and ran like a wildfire through his body, firing a stream of cum into the 'coon's cheeks, then another, yet another, and again, until the last pulse released a tiny dribble of hot semen, which Colin swallowed without hesitation. Panting, the skunk lay back, the glow of his orgasm settling in. He looked down and grinned at his lover as the 'coon scooted up and nestled next to him, one arm over his chest. "Mmm," Erik murmured. "That was nice, Colin."   "Glad you liked it," the other fur smiled into his chest, licking one exposed nipple. "You tasted so good, I can't wait to do that again." Stroking Colin's tail, which curled around his upper thigh, Erik caught his breath, then kissed the raccoon's head, just above the black mask. "Neither can I." He looked down; the fur's penis was still showing some life. "I think it's your turn for something, though." He reached down and chuckled as Colin's weapon leaped back to life. "What would you like?" Colin asked, his eyes half-lidded as he soaked up the teasing touches of Erik's paw. The skunk released him, reached over the bed and produced a bottle of lubricant. "I think I'd like to try this stuff out," he replied, handing it over. Colin regarded it, then grinned and raised up to his knees as Erik rolled himself onto his belly and raised his wide, striped tail. "Careful where you're pointing that thing," Colin warned as he moved into place, his paw running through the black fur of Erik's buttocks, pushing it out of the way for easier targeting. He dipped one finger into the lube and pried Erik's cheeks open, slipping it carefully through the tight ring. Erik raised himself up and hissed as his anus constricted around the intruding object, which rotated slowly, spreading the cool, slippery stuff around.   Colin spread a thick layer of lube onto his ready prick, then lifted Erik's tail up over his shoulder and moved forward, pressing the head of his cock to Erik's waiting hole. "Ready?" he asked; Erik just nodded, looking back over his shoulder, then stretched his neck forward and closed his eyes, his ears laying back as Colin pressed, feeling the sphincter ripple against himself before it opened and he slid deeply inside the skunk, his balls pressing against the black cheeks. "Oh, Gods..." Erik moaned as Colin pulled out and pressed in, out and in, settling into a rhythm, his paws gripping Erik's waist and pulling the skunk in, pivoting at the knees to meet each stroke, feeling his insides rearrange as the long cock worked inside him. The 'coon gasped and whimpered as Erik's tight asshole gripped him, a sweet friction that he knew he couldn't handle too long. Erik's elbows gave out and he collapsed forward, carrying the pumping 'coon with him into a horizontal position. He felt Colin's furred chest pressing against his back, the paws gripping his shoulders, warm breath blowing faster and faster against the scruff of his neck as his actions became more frantic.   Finally, Colin couldn't hold out any longer; Erik felt him lift himself up on his arms and drive deeply in; with a scream, the 'coon erupted, and Erik felt the jets of semen course into his bowels; he groaned as the feeling spread and his again-erect cock pulsed as well, spurting his lust into the covers and across his belly, the pulsations constricting his ass around Colin's gushing cock. Exhausted, the raccoon collapsed, slithering out of Erik as he fell aside, whuffing for breath, his chest rising and falling against the skunk's shoulders. Erik turned onto his back and pulled Colin to him, curling against the recovering fur and nestling into the fragrant fur of his chest. "Thank you," he whispered softly, feeling Colin's paw caressing his head fur and neck. Colin kissed Erik's forehead, smiled and licked his nose gently. "So," he whispered, "want to be research partners, Mr. Skunk?" They looked at each other for a long moment, then dissolved into laughter - laughter that Erik felt would go on for a long, happy time.   "Study Session" Copyright (c) 1997, Tony Greyfox Distribution limited to electronic media not-for-profit use only. All other rights are reserved to the author. [[email protected]](/cdn-cgi/l/email-protection) Source: https://sofurry.com/s/1QQypd71