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"Unfading" By Slip Wolf

Stephan meets her a few months after turning eighteen, just before graduation, and though they won't go to prom together, her time with him brings many truths to bear. He's a golden-furred dog who can't take a bad photograph, well-loved among his classmates. He finds the demure black wolfess in his class interesting because she keeps herself out of the multi-species hierarchal politics that defines high-school life. He gives her some kind words first, a request for a Saturday afternoon second, and an ice cream on the boardwalk under an early spring sun soon after. Amar laughs. "Where else should we go?"

Stephan nods towards a trail that disappears into a thicket of green mystery. "Let's go that way." The path is an open lung of vegetation and sandy scrabble that kinks out of sight. Amar follows, finishing the last of her cone with swift crunches, tail wagging despite the heat that weighs her clothes down. Stephan's tail fans her as she follows.

They find the end of the line quickly, dappled sun checkering the bald ground flattened by prior visitors. Stephan declares he wants a rest and they are soon lying down next to each other. Amar ponders how many of the insects she feels buzzing are underneath her in the soil rather than figuratively in her stomach.

Stephan's breath tickles her nose when he turns in her direction and she finds herself looking at the way the long pink tongue in his muzzle dips and lifts with every vowel and consonant when he talks. She wonders, for the first time about any tongue, how soft it is. His eyes are on her too, but lower, checking out how the fabric on her shirt front stretches when she arches her back. He tries hard to hide how curious he is about this, which makes it much more obvious, but Amar doesn't mind.

She moves closer, turning her head so as to hear him better over the distant surf which really isn't loud at all. He joins in the game, starting to whisper so that she has to edge even closer, both of them turning on their sides. Their noses touch, and then her ear flicks the sand. She can suddenly picture her own ear, flicking against that sand, scattering the grains. But as happens so often, unbidden and unexplained, even as their tongues touch and a fire starts, it isn't her triangular wolf's ear that fixes in her mind's eye as it flicks again and again.

Nor is it a long broad muzzle joining Stephan's, tasting his lips, finding the last traces of ice cream and the first hot breathes of eagerness. A shorter muzzle would let her see his beautiful eyes more closely, get her nearer to him, study his soul.

Stephan's breath is hotter with his urgency and Amar's disquiet. There is a warmth down in her jeans as arousal stirs, but with it there's something more. For a moment, as he starts lifting her shirt off, she is in darkness under the cotton, seeing herself in her mind's eye, feeling herself. Black fur, long ears, wide whiskers, thick lapin haunches curving down to mystery. In that dark moment, with the world muffled and her senses free to look inward, she finds recognition.

Then Amar is out in the open air. They kiss again, gazing at one another down long ungainly snouts. Amar is wondering what it would feel like for him to grab her tufted tail and knead his claws through it. An alien thing beats the sandy earth behind her as he brings his canine nose to the slender tall ears, gathering the lush sounds of the world around them. He mutters, "I got a condom."

There is a paw stroking the heat below her pants zipper and fumbling with the buttons. Her bra is chafing. "What for?" she asks with a giggle. Dogs can't breed rabbits, as fun as it will be to try. Her paws are working at the fur under his shirt, just a bit more slowly than his.

"So I don't get you pregnant," he said with a giggle. Then, "You don't want a pup, do you? Your pack back home would fucking kill me, wouldn't they?"

Something switches off. The rabbit sees a lupine self, lying there in that moment and everything crashes down. Amar stops and pulls away, sitting up to gaze back along the path, finding something to fix her eyes on. She can hear her long muzzle panting with frustration and hates every breath.

"What? It's fine. I'm gonna use protection." Stephan forces the whine out of his voice, hoping he can recover from whatever mysterious complication in feminine alchemy has turned things around. Amar just keeps staring at nothing and no one. When she finally grabs her shirt and stands up, the words she says are devoid of feeling. "I'm sorry, Stephan. It's just me." That's a lie. It really isn't her, not here. She realizes with a cold shiver in her core as she slides her shirt back on that it likely never will be.