The Ivory Ice
"You're of the snow?"
Assumpta tilted her head. Squinted her feline eyes, which were golden. Which seemed to visibly purr. "Yes."
"You're a predator," said the snow rabbit. Stating it as fact. His fur white and soft. The same color as the snow leopard's. Looking of ivory ice.
"It would stand to reason," was her reply.
"Yet you serve aboard a ship of prey? Why?"
"Because," she replied enigmatically. Stopping there. And asking, "You are a rabbit. Are you not prey?"
"I am."
"Then why inquire about me?"
"A fur of the snow ... is a fur of the snow. Predator or prey. I've never seen a snow leopard before."
Assumpta looked to him. They were onboard Luminous, which was in orbit. Docked at one of the outpost's stations. Some of the crew had been ferried down to the surface. To see the snow. To see the ice cities. Assumpta, as of yet, hadn't gone. Though they would be here for several more days. This rabbit, Oliver, was part of the visiting repair team. They were in engineering, in one of the corners, and Assumpta was helping him to reroute secondary power to the hull plating. Juneau was blabbing about something to one of her officers ... a level above them.
"Will you be visiting the surface?"
"I hadn't planned on it," was Assumpta's cool response.
"You should."
"I've no reason to," she continued.
"Don't you miss the cold? The whiteness? Don't you miss the bite?"
She hesitated. She did ... terribly. It was ... not something she could describe. Most furs would brand her insane. To love the cold as she did. But it was pure, and it ... stripped away your excesses. Showed you who you were. And she did miss it ...
"I need the phase adjuster," he told her. His demeanor, his way with words, had that crystalline, emotional detachment ... typical of northern poetry. Typical of the country Assumpta came from. And yet this rabbit was light years from Home-world. And he was prey.
She fished for the adjuster with her paw, found it ... and gave it over.
"Thank you," was his nod.
She nodded back at him.
The rabbit, ears waggling, ears thin and long and atop of his head like antennae, peered into the open bulkhead. The sealing panel lying on the floor beside them. They were both on their knees. "Your ship is impressive."
"Yes."
"It is unfortunate," the rabbit said, fine-tuning the adjuster, angling it at some power conduits, "that it took the damage that it did. But I assure you," he said, turning his gaze to her, "that we'll have it at peak performance by week's end."
She met his gaze, saying nothing to that. Only, "I've no reason to doubt it."
He looked back to the conduits, the wires. The little, blinking lights. "When we're done here, I'll need to go back to the station to get additional supplies. Would you come and help me?"
"You need help locating your supplies?"
"I need help carrying them." He handed the adjuster back to her. Reaching for a spanner. Busying himself with it.
She, adjuster in her paws, frowned a bit. She knew enough in the ways of ... snow furs, being one herself, to know when "interest" was being shown. And though this rabbit was prey, he didn't act like other prey. He was of the snow. When one was of the snow, intimacy, closeness ... was bred of need for physical warmth. Survival. If love came of it, then ... so be it. But the aim was never love. When you lived in the snow, you never aimed for love, lest ... you melt your surroundings. Lest you leave yourself exposed. Lest ...
"The temperature is colder on the station. I am sure it will be to your liking," the rabbit said quietly.
Assumpta felt a flush inside. Inside of her. A welling. "I will accompany you," she told him.
There was a pause. Filled by the quiet hum of the warp core. The quiet glow of it. And the quiet chatter of the other furs in engineering.
He looked to her. Not smiling with his muzzle, but smiling with his eyes. In a way that was only possible with furs who grew in the cold. Furs whose emotions were needing of thaw. "Good," he said. Nodding.
She nodded back at him.
"Oh, my gosh," Field whispered. Sitting on the couch in Wren's office. "They're, like ... the most predator-like prey ... I've ever seen. You notice their demeanor? They all act like ... "
"Like Assumpta?"
"Yeah, that ... cold detachment. You can't quite read what's going on in their mind."
"So, you'd rather they be open books ... like the rest of us?" he asked, smiling, sitting in the chair behind his desk. Wincing a bit. Still sore from his injuries incurred during the space pirate attack.
"No, I just ... I don't know." Field's voice faded. "I just ... they intimidate me," Field said. Whispering honestly. "I can sense their minds, and they're not right. They're not like us. They're not like prey should be."
"They live on an ice world. They're snow rabbits. They live in harsh conditions."
"I'm not being intolerant. They just ... unnerve me. I sense something from them ... "
"Sense?"
"Adelaide does, too. It's not just me."
"Field, they offered to help us." The squirrel sighed. "They're giving us shelter and supplies. They're being tremendously kind."
"I know ... " The mouse felt guilty for his paranoia. He shrugged. "They just ... I was talking to one of them, and their eyes ... his eyes, they bore right through me. And, yet, when I scanned his mind, I found no evidence of mental powers. But I could've sworn he was looking into me ... "
"Field ... " Wren sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I'm really not in the mood."
"I'm sorry. I just ... "
"You came in here to give me an update?" he asked, looking up. Eyes widening ... waiting for the mouse's report.
"Oh. Yeah. Um ... well, everything's going okay."
"Wow, that was ... almost worth chasing me down for."
"I didn't chase you down."
"I was about to head for the mess. For supper."
"Well ... Adelaide's on the surface. With Rella. They're ... collecting samples and buying supplies. And with all the repairs going on, all the furs onboard, I just ... don't have anyone to talk to. You're the only one of my friends who's ... "
"Talk to Ketchy. She's not on duty."
"I don't think she wants to talk to me," Field said quietly.
Wren squinted. Wondering why those two were so awkward around each other. Had they always been that way? What had happened?
"Field, I've got stuff to do. I'm not supposed to be on duty now, but ... I was gonna take a supper break and work through the night, so ... "
"Doctor says you're supposed to rest."
"Take my advice, Field," Wren confided. "And DON'T take Kody's advice."
Field just nodded. "Well ... don't push yourself, okay?"
Wren just nodded.
"I just thought, you know ... you'd like to visit the station with me. Our mates are both on the planet, you know, so ... maybe we could just browse, have a drink, have a guy's night out ... "
"I'm too busy, Field." Wren let out a breath. "Some other time?"
Field's whiskers quietly twitched. "Okay ... I mean, okay. That's okay ... " But the mouse was a bit hurt. And it was evident.
Wren said nothing more. Too tired. Too sore. He just stared at the section reports on his desk. Updates. Repair dates. Assignments.
Field stood back up, went to the door, lingered. Added, "Watch those rabbits. They're not ... right," Field whispered. Leaving the room.
Wren looked up as he left. Shaking his head.
The air WAS colder. Noticeably.
And the snow leopard breathed it deeply ... as she left Luminous and boarded the station. The insides matched the outside. Colored pearl and ivory. All kinds of shades of white. With little streaks of grey.
Assumpta sighed. Closed her eyes for a moment. The chill was welcoming. Often, the temperature on Luminous was a bit too warm for her. Made her fur itch. But, here, as she breathed, she felt ... as if the colder air, cycling through her lungs, through her blood, was somehow purifying her. Filtering the flotsam.
"Cold is divinity," Oliver told her.
The feline opened her eyes. Blinked.
"One of our ancient sayings."
She nodded quietly.
"Follow me," the snow rabbit instructed, and began to move off.
She did so. Watching his white, bob-like tail ... his slender ears. His slender legs and foot-paws. Rabbits were built with strong legs. Built for endurance. For running. They had excellent lower body strength.
They walked through some blue-hued corridors, the walls turning grey ... and reached the larger, more open space ... the promenade-like space. With all the shops and restaurants. Assumpta felt the eyes on her. Always. It had been the same on Pelios Station. It was the same on Luminous. Always, the eyes. Wanting her, or fearing her, or ... but looking at her, all the same. All of those eyes casting their own, silent judgment. And she resented that.
Oliver was wordless as he led her across the promenade, to another door ... which led to the opposite side of the station. To more lifts. Which led to the habitat ring. Which, one could say, reeked of rabbit. But as Assumpta didn't find the scent unpleasant, she figured that it ... radiated, rather, of rabbit. Which would only make sense. Most of the furs here were snow rabbits. Only furs of the snow could tolerate such a chill. No doubt, were her friends on Luminous to come aboard, they would be shivering and chattering and complaining how cold it was. How they couldn't feel their ears or whiskers.
Prey loved to complain. And, Assumpta, for the life of her, couldn't explain why. Complaining solved nothing. Predators didn't complain. They growled, pushed forward ... dealt with it. Prey, however, seemed to find it ... therapeutic to "vent," as they called it. They never admitted they were complaining. They would insist they were "venting," or "speaking their minds," or ... and so on.
They reached a door. The rabbit pressed a button, and it slid open.
"My quarters," he stated. "My things are in here." He turned and looked up to her. She was taller. But, then, she was taller than most prey.
Her eyes locked to his. She quietly followed him in.
Field entered sickbay, looked around.
"What?" was the brusque demand.
The mouse, blinking, turned and saw the doctor on a bio-bed. Depressed. Staring at the ceiling.
"Um ... well, nothing really. I just ... can't sleep. I have too much energy. I often pace in the middle of the night, you know? I ... am walking the ship. Thought I'd stop by here."
"Why?" The rabbit, still unblinking, sighed.
"Well ... I don't know."
"It's not like we get along."
"No," agreed the mouse quietly.
"Can't sleep, huh? You want pills? A shot? That why you came? You need sleeping drugs?"
"I don't take medication unless ... "
" ... you're dying, yeah. I forgot. One of those ... religious scientist things? Believe that God will heal all your illnesses? Don't need doctors?"
The mouse frowned. "No ... course not ... "
"So, you do have SOME sense. That's reassuring."
Field sighed. "Look, if you don't want me here, I'll leave ... "
The rabbit hesitated.
Field took a step forward. "You okay?" he asked. Gently. With genuine concern.
Kody was taken aback. Why should the mouse care? In the past, the doctor had been mean to him. Had made it clear that he found the mouse to be foolish. But ... " ... went over to the station," he admitted. "It was too cold."
"Too ... "
"I had her, Field. This ... pretty thing. It was too cold." He flushed, earns burning. He stared passively at the ceiling. "I couldn't stay erect ... "
"Oh ... " The mouse went quiet.
"Oh," Kody agreed, nodding. Sighing. "Those are some ... prime rabbits, Field. I'm a rabbit. And a snow rabbit? It's, like, they're like ... the angels of rabbits. And you know that rabbits love to breed. But these ... things," he emphasized, "won't breed unless it's in the cold. So, I said, 'sure, I'll ... what's a little chill ... when you got two warm furs doing the bump-and-grind, right' ... "
Field frowned. Wondering if he should be hearing this. Not really wanting to be hearing this. The doctor's yiff life wasn't of his concern. Or his interest. But he couldn't just leave. The doctor was unstable enough as it was. Field could relate to unstable. He could relate to being an outcast. And knew it would hurt the rabbit if he just up and left him here to stew. Nobody liked to stew. Even when they claimed they wished to. The phrase "leave me alone" was almost never genuine. Nobody really, truly ... wanted to be left alone. They were always just too afraid and proud to admit they wanted help ... that they were vulnerable. That they needed a friend.
"Anyway, she looked at me with that ... cold look they give you. You know?"
Field nodded.
"So, I ... had to leave ... feeling a fool. Thing is, she didn't seem to feel anything. Or, if she did, she didn't show it." He paused. Whiskers twitching. "I'm gonna program a snow rabbit orgy for the simulation room ... it'll feel like the real thing. BETTER than the real thing. And then we'll see who's denied what ... "
"Well ... " Field, honestly, didn't know what to say. What the rabbit wanted to hear.
Kody turned his head and squinted at the mouse. "Miss your mate?" he asked. And his voice wasn't biting or sarcastic (as it normally was when he asked Field about Adelaide). It was genuine.
Field, walking quietly to the rabbit's bio-bed, sitting on the edge (and his foot-paws didn't quite reach the floor when he did so), nodded. "Yeah," he whispered, biting his lip. "Yeah, she's ... keeps me warm. I hear her breathing, and ... smell her. And ... when she's not there, my senses are going crazy trying to find her, and ... I can't sleep." He shook his head. "And I can talk to her like I can't talk to other furs. I love her."
"Must be nice ... to know you have that."
"It is," Field admitted quietly.
"Mm ... "
"Let me ask you a question Field ... and I know you're going to deny it, but ... I know about yiff, okay? So, don't play coy with me."
The mouse flushed. "I don't understand ... "
"You like cock, don't you?"
The mouse's whiskers twitched. Ears flushing a deeper pink.
"You bi, then? Or a closet gay? Or ... "
"I used to be gay," he admitted. Slowly. Cautiously. Not wanting to say the words, cause ... suppose the rabbit used them against him? But he seemed to already sense it, already know, so ...
"But not anymore?"
The mouse shook his head. Looking at his own foot-paws as he swung them (as a young mouse would do) forward and back. Pads of foot-paws not quite skimming the firm carpet of the floor.
"Why not?"
"Family ... my religion ... my rural life." A pause. A breath. He didn't want to be remembering this. "My own sense of what I wanted to be, where I wanted to be ... twenty years from now. What road I wanted to go down."
"What road you could handle, you mean?"
"I guess so ... it ... went bad for me," he whispered. "It was traumatic. But I ... I feel God gave me a second chance. He pulled me from that life, and ... I have my family back, and my faith is stronger than ever, and I'm ... the first officer on the best ship in the fleet ... had I stayed the way I was, I ... I don't anticipate I would've had a good end."
"Or maybe you're just weak. Ever think of that?"
The mouse was quiet for a moment. "Often."
"And?"
"And I know what I want. I know what I'm willing to sacrifice. And it was too much. I vowed to go straight, and I have, and it's ... I like it. I've learned to really love femmes."
"Nothin' wrong with the femmes," the rabbit agreed, chuckling a bit. "Mm." A pause. "I assume you told them? Your family. And they didn't just find out."
Field nodded blankly.
"You knew how they'd react, but ... you underestimated your ability to deal with their reaction. Am I right?"
"Something like that," Field whispered.
"So, what's stopping you now? You're not at home. You're light years away from them ... from everything. No one here would care. Why not?"
The mouse looked to him. Answering, "I already told you."
"You're independent now. Less to sacrifice. Why not go for it again ... "
"Because I love Adelaide. And because ... I want to be straight. I can't deal with the pain of going the other way. I mean, other furs, they can handle it, and it ... it works for them. That's fine. I'm happy for them. But ... it wasn't for me. I tried. It didn't work, and ... I thought I had to be that way, but I don't have to be. I can be however I want ... you know? Whatever makes me comfortable. Just because you feel something ... doesn't mean you have to act on it. You can feel other things. Feelings are endless." The mouse took a breath. "I found that my heart was large enough to expand. To love anybody. I found I could be straight, and I found it made me happy. And I love Adelaide more than I've ever loved anyone. I won't throw all of that away for ... lingering desires. I won't lose her."
"Does she know ... about all this?"
"She probes my mind all the time. Of course she knows."
The rabbit just nodded. "Huh ... interesting. Anyway, I'm a bi bunny, you know, so ... that's how I pegged you. I've seen prey like you. I've been with male furs like you. The shy ones. The super-submissive ones. The ones who just ... ooze submissiveness. The emotionally fragile ones."
"Is that why you tease me all the time? You think I'm just ... a waif?"
"I think you're ... funny to watch. Cute. I think ... I like to tease you because ... you intimidate me. I know you'd trounce me in regular conversation."
The mouse shook his head. "Doubt it ... "
"I've seen your mind. You have these mental ... powers now. You perceive things that I can't. You have faith. I've never had that. And ... you know, nothing phases you. Yeah, sure, you get flustered, and you get battered, but that innocence, that youth in your eyes ... it NEVER goes away. Even when someone like me tries to crush it with ... combative words or ... teasing stares."
Field was quiet. Looking to the floor.
"I think you're a good mouse."
Field looked to him.
"I just ... Wren used to be my friend, and ... the only reason he brought me aboard is cause he used to be in love with me. Feels like ... he wants to keep me from getting myself into trouble."
"Wren used to love you?"
"Yeah. I dragged him into ... the bi life, and he was with a few guy furs. Until he pulled himself away from that. He got hurt badly by ... me. And others. And ... it's a long story. Don't tell Rella, okay? I don't think she knows, and ... she doesn't need to. It's in his past. He doesn't feel that way anymore. I mean, maybe he does ... but he would never act on it."
Field quietly nodded, digesting this.
Kody sighed. "Anyway ... Wren acts more like an acquaintance than a friend. Just ... maybe you'd like to be my friend?"
Field was quiet for a moment. "Of course. I mean ... why wouldn't I be your friend?"
"Cause I'm twisted."
"Well, we all have our ... vices."
The rabbit chuckled slightly. "Yeah ... "
Field sat for a moment more. And stood. "Um ... I can't sit still much longer. I'm a mouse, you know. I ... gotta move. Gotta scurry. I'm gonna keep walking round the ship."
"Don't know why mice have so much energy. You mice, you're all too thin. All the mice on this ship ... exercise themselves to malnutrition. Didn't anyone ever tell mice that they're cute when they're a tad bit chubby?"
"No ... anyway, I ... like being slim," Field said. "I like being ... slender and wily."
"I'm sure you do."
There was another pause.
"Anyway, I've time. Heh ... I'll work on my simulation program."
Field nodded. "Alright. Well ... have fun." He went for the door.
"I will," the doctor responded.
And Field, letting out a breath, feeling a bit odd, left ... walking the corridors. Longing for Adelaide.
Oliver lifted his muzzle upward ... as she snugged to him from behind. Their attire having slipped away. Having been removed. The air chilled. You could see your breath when you breathed. And their breathing had become rugged, ragged. From anticipation. From need. Creating little huff-puff vapor clouds in the air. Coming from their noses. Coming from their muzzles. As they hugged and snuggled.
Assumpta, the bigger of the two, arched her belly ... fitting it up against his back ... and from behind, as they stood, she tugged his sheath.
The rabbit made a chitter sound. A little rabbit-bark sound ... that the snow leopard could only attribute to a creature who had known loneliness. Who was sounding out at the promise of changing that. Even for a night. Who was giving himself. Who was ...
" ... remarkable," said the snow rabbit. "When I saw you, that's what I thought. You are the perfect predator. You truly have a soul of the snow. I knew I had to ... we had to imprint on each other."
"I didn't know you were religious," she said.
"Is that a problem?"
"No," she answered. She believed in God, in fate, but ... all the same, didn't particularly think of herself as religious. The religious furs, the furs of faith, all believed that, when you yiffed, you left a spiritual imprint on your yiff partner. Like an echo of the moment. An echo of love. They believed (most of them ... some, like Oliver here, were more lenient on the matter; were looser) you gave part of yourself away ... during each intercourse. And that, if it wasn't done out of love, it would destroy you. It would create imbalance between the heart/soul and body. Field believed that. As did Adelaide. As did Ketchy, apparently, from what Assumpta had learned of her ... but Assumpta didn't believe it. Assumpta was a predator. Yiff was ... a force of nature. Not a romantic construct. And she wished to be sated.
She, using her stronger muscles, turned the male around. He looked up to her.
She purred from the throat. Purred, and ... nuzzled him. Nuzzled her partner. Her prey. Predators could be very affectionate during yiff. She nuzzled and purred into his ears.
She felt his sighs. She could smell his fears.
She soothed them. Licked her long tongue along the fur of his neck. Her raspy, feline tongue. Matting his fur with saliva. Making it stick up.
The rabbit's muzzle, as it began to nuzzle, found it's way to her breasts. Where he opened his mouth, panting out (the hot breath showing in the cold air). And warmed her further. Suckling there.
She arched, huffing out. Breath becoming ice. Body radiating of heat. Of primal heat.
And she put her stronger, bigger paws on his shoulders, and as she sank down to her knees, she brought him with her. And fell to all fours. Heaving. Heaving ...
He saw her tail raise ... the invitation. For prey to mount a predator, they needed the invitation. The tail moving out of the way. It was his permission.
He clambered up behind her. She wanted it like this. On all fours. Wanted him from behind ...
The heat of him sliding into her, the heat of flesh parting flesh, of sinking inch-by-inch, of pausing, of pulling back. The wet, slick sounds. The huffs of breath. The pattering of hearts. It seemed to slow time itself. It was something to savor.
She lowered her head and purred.
He chittered again ... wrapping paws round her belly, caressing up to her breasts as he humped in.
She took the thrusts. Eyes closed. Mouth open. Tempted to meow. But not yet ... not yet ...
"Huh ... uh ... "
The chill in the air seemed to spark. Seemed to flare. Like the cold in the air and the heat coming from them, like it was coming together. Creating a storm front. Creating thunder and lightning, or some perceivable energy in the very air they were breathing.
In, out ... in, out ...
She meowed ... soft, delicate. Was her sound. And was the feel of her, which the rabbit relished. Paws sliding over her body. Over fur, over muscle ... his own male muscle slick with sensitivity. Pushing through the velvet of her. Into her. Mating her.
She arched, and extended her claws ... dug them into the carpet of the floor.
He began to make a huffing, panting whimper, and his strong hind legs, his long, slender foot-paws (which she wished to lap her tongue over; they were the best foot-paws a fur could have) ... his hind-quarters propelled him into her. Rocking her.
Her climax brought a deep, sighing purr. As if her lungs were deflating. As if she could make no sound other than an airy, intermittent "mew" ...
"Huh! Huhmm ... uh," gasped Oliver. Eyes watered shut. Body shivering and shuddering as he sowed his seed in her. He huffed and draped over her.
Her own eyes still closed ... she moved her tail. So that it caressed him with snaky movements.
"Thank you," he whispered into her ear.
She purred her "you're welcome" ... and when they had physically parted, lying together on the carpet, she looked to him. He was really the most amazing prey she had ever met. And she said, shy about it (and she was never shy), "Perhaps ... we shall meet again someday? When my mission is over, or ... I have leave."
He clasped a white, soft paw with one of her white paws. And did his "smile with the eyes" thing. "I wouldn't object."
Her own eyes smile. She nodded. And leaned forward, giving him a long tongue-lick to the cheek. A very affectionate gesture. Not something she usually did after yiff, but ... this snow rabbit ... she admired him so. And even ... well, maybe cared for him. Even after only an hour. It made her think that, maybe, there was a chance for her. That maybe she would find love one day ... it made her dream.
The repair crews filtered away, off the ship ... and Luminous un-docked, turning away. Warping for the next system. Continuing the mission.
But in the docking port, one snow rabbit remained. Seemingly a stowaway, he stayed in the shadows. Shifting, turning ... emerging from the shadows as a skunk.
The shadow fur squinted his eyes. Adjusting to his new body. And smiling slightly to himself. He had been tracking Luminous since Pelios Station. Now, he would infiltrate the crew, and he would destroy this ship, if necessary. He would stop this crew from going any further (and, in doing so, save the future of furs). And, more and more, in his mind, he did believe that the only way was to kill them all. And he would do it. If it was the last thing he would do ...