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Slick Run

IV Egocide (We're A Happy Family)

It was already noon; the sun around which Hex circumnavigated seemed to take on a cognizant quality, a near awareness that provoked thoughts of gargantuan cosmic entities whose merest notions were beyond mortal comprehension and whose presence forced one to truly realize one's insignificance in the universe at large. It was at least one way of explaining away the homicidal heat.

Fox was in hell. He felt as though he were traveling deeper into a world designed to freeze and burn and liquefy the most rudimentary cells in his body. His right eye remained shut from the pain, tears slinking out to run through the fur of his cheek. He could still feel Dice's eyes on the back of his head.

The road was running a straight path now, cutting through level sandy ground and looping toward another mountain range, the rock equal in color to aged rust. There was a break in the mountains ahead, a flat and open space between two rocky vertebrae that rose up some thirty feet. A wooden sign had been hung by wire between the two separated hills, three large letters done in white chalk displaying the word and place-name "Now." Below the sign were tall, makeshift doors of corrugated sheet metal. Symbols were scrawled on each side of the entryway and the surrounding rocks; spiders, snakes, scorpions, large-beaked birds, things that looked like horned reptiles, crude pictographs of what looked like DNA helixes, all mingling under a cloud of peace signs.

Kaz, the Doberman behind the wheel, slowed the buggy down to a crawl. Opening a compartment between the driver's and passenger's seats, he took out a radio and thumbed down the call button.

"Rex at the door, open up. Repeat, Rex is at the door."

Slowly, the doors opened outward, allowing Fox to accurately see their thickness; several sheets of metal crudely nailed to large slats of wood. A simple series of rigs and gears kept the heavy doors slave to the movements of a wheel set up in the rocks. Kaz drove in, setting the radio in his lap, a grin widening on his dark, knife-sharp face. As the buggy eased into the opening and passed through the towering hills, Fox looked through squinting eyes at the spectacle that spread out before him.

A valley of golden sand stretched out for several miles, rolling dunes and hills gradually dipping down into what felt like a crater, surrounded and protected on all sides by the arms of the rust-hued mountain range. Several buildings had been constructed from materials stolen from KING, olive green canvas tents and wooden structures dotting the ravine with a placement system that seemed geared toward anarchy. Large, flat rocks, some that looked like lopsided fangs and some that looked like angled coins, dotted the area like a collection of islands rising up from the sand.

The valley was peopled with an assortment of Dice's group, and Fox found it difficult to believe that these men and women had once been part of Corneria's armed forces, only two years ago. He saw some sleeping or loitering in the shadows of the buildings or on the large flat rocks that poked up out of the ground; some were seated around smoking fire pits, cross-legged and playing musical instruments to folksy tunes; some were busy carting various materials from one place to another. The heat denied the comfort of clothing, forcing some to go without shirts and some, to Fox's embarrassment, to divest all of their clothing entirely. He saw a tall red vixen running across the sand, completely nude, her breasts heaving as she shouted happily, her rear jiggling, a large flag of Corneria gripped tightly in her hands quivering behind her. Dice and Kaz paid her no mind.

The smell of something being overcooked drifted on the wind, something tangy and herbal that made Fox's nose tickle. There was a squalid quality about the place, something horribly destitute, but overall there was a feeling of community and closeness, emphasized by the safeguarding mountains.

Dice tapped Kaz on the shoulder. "Head on up to the house."

Kaz nodded quietly and swerved the jeep up onto a well-kept road that began at the foot of the hills and circled up high to the far side of the mountain ridge. Across the valley, a cave up there had been settled, a fence of thick posts set up at the mouth of the cave to protect someone should they fall. A good idea; judging by the height of the cave one would fall only once. To the left of the cave, flapping lazily in the calm wind, a red tent had been stretched out over another hollow in the rock.

As the jeep headed up the road, they came across a trio walking down from the hills, a male fox, a female raccoon, and a female horned lizard, their arms across each other's shoulders and their faces beaming with bright smiles. The lizard, Fox noticed, was very naked and very pregnant, her reddish-brown skin glistening slightly from exertion. They were all nude, unashamedly so, and they each raised a hand in greeting when Dice's jeep drove past, cheering loudly. Fox smiled at them as they passed, but he kept his eyes to the ground.

"Hey, kids," Dice smiled as he waved back at them. He sat up, crouching in the bed of the jeep, strands of his hair splaying outward behind him.

"You guys are pretty open out here," Fox said.

Both Dice and Kaz laughed at that. Fox took that to mean that their openness was much more than he could believe.

They drove up to the mouth of the cave, the wheels whispering on the rocks. Kaz parked the big vehicle in a depression in the rock, one big enough to support the size of Dice's command buggy, and they all climbed out. Dice, ignoring the use of doors, simply jumped out onto the cool rocky floor. Fox looked around, failing to will away the pain that danced a deadly rhythm in his head, at least trying to act like he was fine.

The cave was massive; it went into the mountain about forty feet, fifteen feet high at its tallest point and double that in width. Stalactites had been carefully removed save for near the opening, combining with the fence posts to evoke images of a massive stone maw. A large fire pit was burning, slaughtering the shadows within and highlighting the strange, grotesque statues that dotted the space and the equally grotesque pictographs chalked in white and red along the walls. Fox couldn't tell what they were supposed to depict, only that they depicted something. An oddly shaped wooden door stood at the far end of the cave, leading further inward.

Dice placed a hand on Fox's back and guided him into the mouth of the beast. Kaz stayed back, looking out through the fence over the valley.

There was some furniture dotting the cave entrance, sparse and decrepit thought they were. Dice brought him to a small workbench lining a wall, covered over with curious mechanical apparatus and glass tubing. "How 'bout something for that headache, huh?" Dice said, his hands playing with the clasp of a small ammunition box.

Fox swore inwardly; he didn't want anybody to think that he had any bit of delicacy. Considering it, he realized that an eyeless worm probably could have seen his display of anguish. "You noticed that, huh?"

"I could _feel_your pain, Fox. It was coming off of you in waves, scarlet floods of lightning and fire. I almost threw up back in the jeep. I can still feel it, and I don't want it. I don't want it for you or for anybody else in the valley. Here, try this."

Dice had opened the small box, displaying a rainbow of little tubules. A chill passed over Fox when he realized they were pills, the cold reaching up and tapping against his migraine. Dice's hand strayed discerningly over the box for a couple moments before picking up two pieces. One was green, the other black.

Dice held up the green pill between his thumb and forefinger, making it seem like a little jade bug. "This one will take away the pain and only the pain. This one--" Dice held up the black pill--"Will take away a little bit more than that. It's your choice."

Fox stared at the objects in Dice's hands, the saliva draining from his mouth. The pain seemed to increase with his anxiety, forcing his right eye shut again. His teeth were tingling. He wished he had his own painkillers; he at least knew what they were--or rather, he was at least familiar with them. He looked up at Dice, who was staring down at him with his own look of pain, eyes narrowed and ears flat against his long hair.

Fox didn't want either of them, but the migraine was now starting to reach down and grab at his stomach. He wondered how much longer before the pain became so great that he would be ejecting his stomach's contents between his feet.

He nodded to the green pill. Dice smiled, a tiny agonized grin. Casually tossing the black one back into the box, he stretched out his hand to give Fox the little green oval when Fox told him to wait.

"Just the pain?" the vulpine asked.

"That and nothing more."

Fox reached up for the pill, but Dice shook his head. His massive brown-furred hand hovered near Fox's face, and he quickly understood.

Fox opened his mouth and let Dice put the pill on his tongue. He tasted the salt of tireless labor and something rich and zesty, something from the desert, underscored by the chalky, chemical taste of the little green tubule. Another chill ran down his spine, but this time it was something sensual rather than dismal, something that made him feel small and in need of help, of someone who could give him help.

Shaking his head, he swallowed the tablet. Dice squeezed his arm, gave him a pleased, benign look. "We treat each other well down here, Fox."

Dice brushed beside Fox as he walked to the entrance, his serpent's tail muttering along the floor. Fox followed, eager to show that he was indebted to the coyote.

"How long does--."

"About three minutes. Come here, I want to show you our world."

Fox followed him up to the fence, standing beside him and listening thoroughly to everything he said. When Dice once more put his hand on his shoulder, Fox took a small step closer to him, trying to solidify a friendship with the towering canine. He noticed that Kaz had since wandered back toward the command buggy, inspecting it for any malfunction.

Dice gestured out over the fence, pointing at buildings and explaining their function. He showed Fox the community tent, which was used largely for dinners or commemorative speeches; the water purification plant, which was little more than a dilapidated shack with steel tubes running out of it, and was used to treat and cleanse the water that they carted from the northern lakes; the "hutch," a long rectangular building that at first had been used as a barracks but which now was used mainly as a community shelter for clothes and miscellaneous objects after the group had realized just how pleasant the actual ground was on which to sleep; near that was a corral for the buggies, little more than rows of steel fences with lengths of burlap knitted together to cover them from the sun; closest to the cave was the public showers, a thin rectangle that looked like a dugout, with two doorless entrances, one solid wall, a roof, and a fence of chicken wire opposite the wall. Fox swallowed at the mention of public showers. Dice didn't pick up on that action, but he mentioned that if showers weren't his thing then there was a swimming hole up behind the hutch, which was just as public as the showers.

Dice directed him to the side and pointed to the hollow in the hills beside the cave entrance, where the red canvas undulated in the holiday wind. Dice told him that if ever needed to scratch an itch, he could do it up there. He said it with a grin on his face, exposing dagger-fangs.

"This place was revealed to me," he said, "in a dream that was not my dream. I was showed where to go, and I led them here. Beautiful, isn't it?"

The squeal of a door hinge echoed across the cheeks of the cavern, bat's exclamation announcing the opening and shutting of the single far door. Fox turned around and saw another coyote striding toward them, a female built with the grace and strength of a warplane. She towered over him as well, the tips of her ears scratching at the ceiling. Her yellow-brown hair was cut short, just reaching the bottom of her eyes, barely covering the X that glared mutely from between pale yellow snake eyes. A khaki military shirt covered her chest, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, tucked formally into pressed army trousers she wore up to her stomach, cinched tight by a length of thick black paracord. Her pants were tucked into a pair of brown army boots, well-kept and polished but worn down at the soles. She left wet prints as she walked, her grey rattlesnake's tail twitching from side to side to match the seductive sway of her hips.

Fox had no doubt that she was Dice's sister, Skin.

As she came up to them, her slitted eyes fell on Fox, lingering on him until Dice spoke. For several moments, Fox felt an inexplicable feeling of urgency crease his mind, though he could not understand for what or why.

"Hello, sister," Dice said with a smile, and the two kissed on the lips. Fox blinked.

"Skin, this is our new brother. He's another victim of the king, another soldier of love, and he's keen to get away to a better place."

Fox felt like he was looking at a plastic doll that was designed to walk and smile. Her lips pulled up into a smile, but it was mechanical, fake and emotionless. Her eyes, he noticed, had not blinked once. As she leaned down to kiss him on the forehead, he saw a thick, knobby scar running across her throat like a black lesion. An old-fashioned, iron key dangled from her neck, bouncing against the small hills of her breasts.

The formalities out of the way, Skin's smile disappeared, and she began a curious conversation with her sibling. Staring directly at him, she emitted a series of concentrated buzzes with her tail, to which Dice responded with vocal answers. Fox listened to the rattles, trying to listen to pieces that he could interpret through Dice's responses, but it was too complex, sibling language fathomable to only them.

"Are you sure?" Dice asked, his brow showing concern.

Skin, her face still expressionless, gave one brief and tapering buzz. Fox understood that to mean a "yes," perhaps a serious "yes." Dice raised an eyebrow and nodded. His tail rattled a combination code, and Skin walked away.

"Well, then," Dice said, throwing an arm around Fox's shoulders. His consternation had vanished and had been replaced with a sudden joviality. "I suppose you want to get used to the place. We're not doing anything big at the moment, so you can just mess around however you want. Take a shower, have some fun; I know you're going to fit right in here."

He leaned down and kissed Fox on the forehead, a lingering smack that made him uncomfortable, that made a little flutter ripple inside his stomach and another in his chest. Dice gave him a gentle push toward the road, and headed to the door at the throat of the cavern.

Though Fox was intrigued to explore the coyote's domain, the sudden freedom shocked him. It had only been several hours ago that he had just survived an explosion and had been tied up, threatened with castration. As Fox began his slow walk down the long curving path, he stopped, looking down at a rock as a sudden realization dawned over him.

The pain in his head was completely gone, ceased to be. Fox scoffed; he hadn't even noticed.

Walking down the road, he looked out over the huge bowl-like expanse. From this point, one could see virtually any point in the valley. He let his eyes wander over the uneven, rolling terrain, the large flat rocks that poked out from the sands like masses of black pepper in a field of ground cardamom, peopled sparsely, with persons congregating in small groups in the cool shadows of rocks, buildings, or in small hollows worn into the mountains. He wondered how many people were in Dice's group in total, how many of them were as vicious as Datura, if any of them knew where the Tassel sisters were, or if the two were actually among them somewhere.

He remembered something Dice had mentioned earlier, making a reference to a "Red Valley base." Fox imagined a large network of fortified, well-linked, and well-defended camps sprinkled across the hills and deserts of Hex. But why? he wondered. Why have a number of camps scattered around when this single one seemed so well maintained?

Then again, perhaps there was only this one and the other. That seemed as likely. He knew this was all speculation contrived before any actual research, but he had to start somewhere.

He had to admit, a shower sounded like a good idea.

Stepping off the foot of the road some time later, he could now fully comprehend the actual size and scope of the mountains from which he had come. Feeling smaller than ever, he headed over to one of the buildings Dice had pointed out to him. He still couldn't get over the magical efficiency of Dice's green pill. The pain just vanished, disappeared. No slow dissolve or puttering echoes, just out and away, extinct.

He wondered what other tricks Dice had in his pockets.

---

Fox anxiously surveyed the structure, one long corridor with only one solid wall, floor, roof, and three points from which third parties could peek in. Holes in the wood, covered with wire mesh, acted as drains. Fox blew a breath; he wasn't too keen to have people looking in on him, but he knew that self-consciousness would be translated as a weakness around these people. Looking around, he slowly began to undress.

His boots and socks he placed on the floor, his shirt and pants he hung on an upturned rung on the half-wall beneath the chicken wire. Sparing another glance at his surroundings, he slid off his boxers and tossed them onto the rung. He looked around the wall, dried wood faded slightly by the sun, saw a pair of full-length mirrors nailed between the spray nozzles. Avoiding them, he saw a thin chain dangling from a set of pipes. He pulled the string and gasped as the water, cold as winter wind, washed over his face in a loose spray, his body stiffening in surprise.

He leapt out of the path of the diffusing water, his fur bristling. Making sure nobody was looking, he gradually returned under the nozzle in increments, angry at himself.

He brushed his fingers through his hair, letting out a deep sigh. _What am I doing?_he thought. The full depth of what he was doing was just now starting to pour over him, adding weight to the subtle pressure of the water washing over his body. He didn't know a damn thing about clandestine operations like this, infiltration and deception; he hoped that he could retain the act without any slipups, without letting it go too far. Murder, messages, missing women, it was too goddamn much.

He thought about Alex, wondering if he was okay back at KING. One of the watchers in the hills had told them before they headed out about two jeeps, coming to see the wreck. A deeper cold passed down into his stomach when he imagined Alex in one of the seats, eyes wide in worry, a half dozen hidden mountain troopers filling rifle scopes with the cat's face.

These were dangerous people, in spite of their underground culture of love and concord, and he had to stay on their good side. The Tassel sisters...

Ninety percent.

"Damn," Fox muttered to the wall.

"Hey there!"

Fox jerked, eyes wide, and turned to see Kaz walking toward the shower beside him, a tall mirror between them. He had already taken off his clothes, nonchalantly tossing them over his shoulder. Before diverting his eyes back to the wall, he caught a glimpse of toned muscle pronounced by the brass-brown fur on his chest, stomach, pelvis, and inner thighs; the same color from his elbows and knees down, while the rest of his body made him look like a lithe shadow sidling into the corridor. A beer gut Fox hadn't noticed earlier was beginning to show itself above a bird's nest of pubic hair covering a dick that quickly made Fox's imagination spark. He started running his hands together in the water, pretending to look busy.

"Oh! Hey...what's up?" Fox said, clearing his throat.

"This fuckin' heat, man. Can't get out of it sooner!"

Fox glanced at him, caught the smile on Kaz's face and returned it as best as he could. The Doberman tugged on the chain, there was a rumble in the pipes, and the nozzle spat a couple drops onto the floor.

"What the suck, man. Trigger couldn't fix a tap if it was stuck in his chest."

Fox snickered, not really caring who Trigger was but committing the name to memory anyway. He ran his hands up his arms and around his shoulders, trying to ignore the naked man beside him.

"You like it cold, huh?"

"What?"

Fox stepped out of the way when an arm reached out beside him to grasp a small wheel valve. "Here," the Doberman said, the wheel squeaking as he turned it. The temperature quickly changed from numbingly cold to scalding hot; Kaz tinkered with the knob until it was nice and mild. He stood beside Fox, giving him a smile that made the strength in his legs fade away.

"Nervous?" Kaz asked. Fox swallowed, letting the water wash through his hair and over his eyes.

"I don't usually shower with anyone other than myself."

Kaz laughed, boisterous barrel-rocking sound. Fox felt a hand slide onto his shoulder--he realized that his shoulders had been getting an awful lot of action today--and begin kneading the base of his neck. He felt the doberman's breath on the back of his ear, could smell something sharp and sweet.

"I think you'd enjoy it, man. Besides, I could get all the spots you wouldn't be able to reach."

Fox was about to refuse, to step away out of the canine's advances when he felt another hand brush against his side and reach up, fingers running through the cream-white fur of his stomach and chest. He stiffened as Kaz leaned forward across his shoulder, the doberman's other hand reaching up to grab something on a high shelf and enveloping him in a cloud of his powerful masculine scent.

The hand came down with a bottle of shampoo, label torn off. Kaz popped the cap and Fox smelled something fruity. "Stand still," Kaz said, and Fox did. He felt the viscous liquid fall on his shoulder, warm in the bottle but cold on his warm body.

"How can you tell? If I like guys, I mean," Fox said. He didn't like the idea of being with someone whom he hadn't even had a proper conversation with beforehand. Kaz began rubbing the wash into his fur, kneading it into a lather on his back. Fox kept his head bowed under the spray so Kaz couldn't see him wince; the doberman was rubbing too hard.

"Are you kidding? Anybody could have seen you giving me that up-and-down, with those pretty eyes. I'm flattered that someone as handsome as you would show me any kind of interest; you're a good lookin' guy, Fox."

Fox shook his head in refusal of the compliment, not doing very well, since the grin he tried to hold back slipped through. The doberman's thumbs had risen up to his neck, right on target with that sensitive area that Alex knew about, sending lightning down his body. Fox tilted his head back a little, his tail twitching.

"Did that hurt?" Kaz asked, genuinely worried. Fox felt him back away, pang of irritation when he felt those hands retreat down to his upper arms.

"No, that's alright. Go back there."

The hands came back, large calloused fingers touching off grenades of bliss that rippled across his body. The water splashing over his face and chest was becoming liquid ecstasy; he shivered at the compound sensations of having strong fingers massaging that sweet spot and the water caressing the rest of him. He felt the doberman's stomach pressing up against his back, adding to the sexual tempest flooding down into his loins.

The thumbs reached the back of his head, brushing against the close-cut hair there. That was it, lightning-flash and shotgun blast. Fox jerked his head back and let out a forced, breathy exclamation.

"You like this?" Kaz breathed on his neck. Fox couldn't hear what he said over the rush of the water splashing down onto the floor and rumbling down the drain, but he didn't care, inconsequential. The hands disappeared, wrapping around his stomach and chest. The dog's lips attacked the area where his thumbs had been, kissing and rasping. Fox reached up, placing one hand on Kaz's arm and the other on his hip.

Without notice or reason, Alex jumped into Fox's head. He looked hurt and sour. Fox shook his head to get rid of him. Kaz stopped his ministrations, pulling his mouth away. "What's wrong?" he said.

Fox spun around in Kaz's arms, angry wet twirl. He grabbed Kaz's hips and pulled him close, grinding his hard-on against the doberman's pelvis, flesh on flesh, making sure the doberman saw the fierce look in his half-lidded eyes. He was amazed that Kaz was only at half-mast.

"Whoa, you really--."

Fox lunged forward, cutting off any dialogue. He didn't want to be gentle, didn't want to tease or flirt. He kissed the doberman, roughly pressing into him, tasting something like whiskey and bitter herbs. The canine had thinner lips than Alex, but his tongue was more dexterous; he tested that by playing with the inside of Kaz's mouth, probing against his gums and teeth, hungry and vicious. Kaz was startled at first, but he slowly caught up to Fox's speed, soft sigh vibrating through Fox's mouth. The vulpine pressed into the doberman's slightly protruding stomach, throwing his arms over black shoulders.

It was another good act, he thought. Fox didn't normally like it like this; he had once yelled at Alex for being too rough during one of their secret meetings on the Great Fox. He realized it was dangerous to simply jump into the role without a plan. As such, he wanted to dissociate himself from his real life to form a separate mode of thinking, a character that wanted to be here, to live and eat and fuck and do whatever they wanted him to do.

With a ponderous grunt, Kaz pushed him up against the shower wall. Fox moaned into Kaz's mouth as he felt a hand follow the ridge of his backbone down to the cheeks of his ass, his aggressive nature melting away into something small and yielding. The doberman growled into his mouth, savage oscillation echoing against his teeth. He squeezed Fox's butt in a strong grip, a man's grip, and Fox let out a delicate sound that he tried to change into a husky grunt, giving away his weakness. He felt Kaz move him around like a paper doll, pushing him along the wall and out of the jet of water, exerting his masculinity on him. Fox refused to let himself just go limp, he wanted to show him that he wasn't going to just give himself up; he dug his nails sharply into the doberman's back, feeling the angry rumbling against the broad chest.

Finally, Fox broke the kiss. He looked into Kaz's face, water pouring down it in waves, bestial lust shining through his eyes. Kaz knew what he wanted, and judging by the solid meat spear pressing against his stomach he wanted it bad.

"Turn around," Kaz said, hunger-growl low in his ears. Fox grinned and slowly turned, brushing his hip against the doberman's length. He faced the wall and nearly gasped when he saw his reflection looking back at him; Kaz had pushed him to the mirror. He looked at his face, rain-grizzled and excited, cream-white hair getting longer than he usually kept it, hanging down in tassel-clusters above his eyes. He followed the water as it fell from his hair down to collect at his black nose, dripping down past the vanilla fur of his chest and navel--he watched his chest rise and fall in his exhilaration. Kaz started groping and fondling his ass; Fox put his hands against the wall and stuck out his rear, shifting his tail to aside. There were a lot of things he enjoyed, but having a man playing with his ass was something beyond enjoyment.

He felt Kaz press against his back, felt him reach up onto the single shelf. The hand came down with something that looked like a large, mold-encrusted tennis ball. Fox narrowed his eyes at it, giving Kaz a disgusted look.

"What's that?"

"Keziah fruit. Best source of nutrition and fluid next to pure water, and it grows all around here. Funny thing, though...when you leave it out to dry, the nectar gets really thick and smooth, slick even."

There was a squelching sound, squeezed-fruit sound, and Fox caught the gist. He kept his rear raised, turning back to face the mirror. He didn't like looking at himself, hated it, in fact. Ignoring the pang of embarrassment, he looked at himself now, face close to the opposite face, his body reedy but strong, giving himself to someone he didn't know, had only met since the morning, didn't even know his name. Fox prided himself on having standards if not variation in partners; where was the standard in this?

When he felt the head of Kaz's cock poking against his entrance, he abolished the standard. He spread his legs further apart, feeling hot and cold in an exotic fusion as the doberman's dick spread the curious but enticing fluid along his pink anus, teasing him with its slipperiness. Fox hummed as the feeling of having his back door lubricated up and down sent a tremor of pleasure through his bones.

Kaz didn't ask if he was ready or give him any kind of warning; he gunned the engine and slammed the pedal down, ramming into Fox with an excited grunt. Half of his length jabbed inside him, missile-blast of pain fire and pleasure smoke. Fox let out a yelp of surprise, discomfort, and a dribble of petering anger. His arms seemed to give out for a moment, and Kaz pressed into him, pushing him against the mirror, his breath fogging the mirror. The doberman pulled out slowly, up to the tip, and then jammed in again, more distance. The pain was a little better this time, slowly fading away as Fox let the feeling of fullness fill his thoughts.

Kaz fell into a steady pace, much faster than Fox preferred though he knew Kaz was holding back, letting the vulpine get used to his size. He felt the canine's large hands run through the fur on his hips, gripping him tightly and holding him in place. The doberman seemed a tad bit shorter than Alex, but his width was what sold it; stretching him out more than Alex could. Fox repositioned his feet, falling into step with Kaz, pushing back as the doberman pushed forward.

The initial pain was quickly fading, pure delight filling in the gaps as Kaz filled his gap. The vulpine felt Kaz's stomach brushing against the base of his tail, a new sensation that he had never felt before but which he was sure to utilize in future.

Fox loved the largeness of Kaz's hands grabbing and groping at his ass and hips. They made him feel small and fragile, hands that could easily break every bone in his body but he knew they wouldn't; they were rough hands, but they were loving and protective as well. As a particular thrust touched several sensitive areas inside him, he arched his neck and let out a small, adoring sound from his throat.

"No way is this your first time..."

It was an observation, vocalized thought, so Fox didn't reply. He closed his eyes, tried to not think about the danger of fucking against a full-length pane of cheap mirror glass. As the canine's penis slid in and out of him, pushing at his inner walls, large balls harshly tapping against his own, a full smile broke out on his lips. He opened his eyes and looked at himself getting fucked, fucked good, the sturdy doberman behind him exposing his own teeth in a savage expression.

Fox loved that.

Kaz quickened his pace, plowing into him and rubbing at nearly every zone Fox knew of. By now, the nature of the syrupy fruit juice was becoming apparent; it had a tickling coolness similar to that of menthol. Cold fire was erupting inside of him and howling its existence with each and every thrust. The fire was reaching deeper than Kaz could reach, mingling with the pre-cum that Fox knew was slicking and coating his fleshy pink walls.

Kaz hurled himself forward, pushing as deep into Fox's rear as he could. Fox felt the doberman's grip tighten in his ass, nails digging deep into his skin. It hurt, but it was another delicious hurt that he enjoyed as much as having Kaz inside of him. He saw in the mirror how his ass jiggled slightly every time the doberman slammed home. Watching it happen brought to him an entirely new degree of desire. Kaz's testicles were slapping hard and fast against him, his rod continuing to joust and pierce him. The menthol-esque flames felt as if they were rising, spreading through him like a seductive arctic conflagration. Fox moaned.

"Oh, yeah...Just...like...that!"

The doberman growled low and heavy, throaty exultation, as he attacked the vulpine's rear. Fox felt everything light up inside him, everything that could be touched was being touched, direct hits inside and out. Tears were starting to slip out from under his eyes, letting his concisous self fade away to be taken over by that vicious, primeval part of him, languishing in the smells, sights, sounds, and feeling of passionate fucking.

His body felt like a symphony, every essential part being played correctly and harmoniously. He felt himself reaching that tipping point, tears of bliss falling through the fur of his cheek. He murmured irrational breathy sounds as Kaz rapidly shoved him toward the edge.

Kaz gave another grunt, thunderous and manly, that Fox could feel rumbling from the canine's stomach to the base of his tail. He squeezed Fox's ass, slapped it, sharp lightning sting that was the final action that pushed him over the cliff. Electricity flooded through him, centering on his pelvis; Fox let out a broken moan as his shaft convulsed, firing globulous strings of milky cum onto the mirror. His cock twitched, releasing a steady salvo onto the alternate Fox.

Kaz groaned as Fox's muscles twitched around him. Fox felt the vibrations, felt the doberman lean over him as he rushed towards his own finish, thighs slapping against thighs in rapid-fire beat. Kaz, keeping one hand locked on Fox's ass, clamped the other hard on his shoulder. The vulpine let out a soft yip as fingers dug into his skin, pulling him backward. The final pulses of his climax were just beginning to fade away, semen dribbling down to the floor, a long glistening string reaching down and shivering along with him.

Fox felt Kaz's second hand leave his rear and latch onto his other shoulder, fire digging into his flesh and sending another bomb-burst of pleasure-laced pain resounding throughout his quivering body.

"Ow, fuck..." Fox breathed roughly, feeling his body be reduced to something little more than a ragdoll in the hands of a deliciously vicious doberman, still pounding and slapping into him. Fox watched himself being taken in the mirror, his body jerking and shrugging as Kaz assaulted his hindquarters.

Finally, Kaz gave another lurch into him, another choked rumble from his chest cracking into his ears. The doberman's grip on his shoulders tightened, soreness cutting deep into the bone. Fox cried out from the pain, fire exploding in his shoulders when he felt fire exploding inside of him, white liquid heat coating his insides. Kaz pressed his body deep into him, grinding and shunting as deep as possible into Fox's ass as he rumbled the finishing throes of his orgasm.

The doberman leaned hard against him, putting all of his weight onto his body as he groaned. Fox held himself up as hard as he could, pushing against the wall with what strength he had left in his limbs. Kaz's death-grip on his shoulders fell away, wrapping around his chest and stomach, those amazing hands seeming so huge and guarding. He felt Kaz's sharp muzzle leaning down, breathing hot and zesty air on the back of his neck as if in time with his own breathing.

Fox enjoyed the whole event immensely, everything was wonderful. But there was one factor that Fox seemed to focus on more than anything else. The volume of Kaz's climax was proportionately less than what he imagined it would be; he supposed a confident, masculine guy like Kaz frequented this activity often.

The doberman held him in an affectionate embrace, his heat and musk washing over and all around him. Fox hummed in enjoyment as he fell away from the wall, placing his own hands on top of the muscular flesh of Kaz's forearms. He let his breathing fall in line behind the canine's heavy, hot breath, repositioning his cramped legs into a normal stance.

"I love you," Kaz mumbled into his neck. Fox shook his head and flicked his ear against the doberman's face. He scowled; of all the things Kaz could have said, that was the one thing he didn't want to hear. It was unnecessary, uncalled for.

"I bet you say that to everyone," he said, lacing his words with a trace of disdain.

Kaz belched. "Yep, and I mean it every time."

Hot lips pressed against the side of his neck, holding there for a moment then retracted. Kaz humped him once, silent squelch, then slid out of him with an abrupt and unkind movement that made him twitch. For the slightest moment, he felt a twinge of disappointment and loss when the doberman's shaft slid out of him, leaving a void in its place. Fox grunted, letting himself settle; he turned around and leaned against the wall, his head tilted to the side, hapless smile pulling the corner of his mouth. Kaz gave him a weary grin, resting his hands on either side of the fox's face. He could feel Kaz's semen slipping out of him, tracing a group of opaque lines down his thighs and balls.

He realized that he liked being submissive; it wasn't a demeaning condition, it was an _empowering_condition. In the little flash in Kaz's eyes, he understood that he could use sex as a weapon to dig into these people. Fox felt a chill as he considered the position, anxiety and anticipation running down his bones, but he loved it. For the time being, if they told him to jump, he would jump. And if they told him to bend over, well well.

They took another shower, standing together under the same spray and caressing each other. Kaz cleaned him up, kissed him again, and they wiped the water out of their eyes, the pipes grumbling angrily at being turned off.

Kaz noticed him turning around on his feet, wiping his hair. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"You got any towels around here?"

Kaz laughed, grabbing his clothes and Fox's from the rungs under the chicken-wire half-wall. He tossed over Fox's clothes and gently placed a hand on the vulpine's back. "You don't need towels, Foxy. You got the sun, you got the wind, and you got the time. Let the world dry you off."

Fox hummed a reply that he hoped made him sound pleased, but in his ears he sounded disconcerted. As they headed out of the communal showers, Fox asked which direction the barracks were. Kaz told him, pointing out the general direction, and Fox nodded. They stepped onto the burning afternoon sand, powdered fire on his feet, covering his lower body with his clothes while Kaz just threw his over a shoulder.

They walked around the back of the showers, past the natural pool, breaching a low dune, and the sound of clapping hands met Fox's ears. Cresting the dune, he saw to his dismay a group of twenty-odd members of Dice's cult were standing there, tight-line behind the monster dog himself, and they were all staring at him as they clapped and cheered.

Fox swore, the words choking back in his throat as adrenaline shot through him, electric behind his eyes. He was about to turn around when Kaz gently tightened his hold around his neck, pinning him against the doberman's chest as he struggled. He could only hold his clothes tight against his body as Kaz dragged him down the incline toward the crowd.

Red flowered through Fox's cheek fur. Some members in the group laughed at that, but he could tell that it wasn't out of meanness; many gave an affectionate and consoling "aaw" sound.

Dice held up his hands and the crowd was silenced. He surveyed them momentarily before turning back to Fox, swinging his arms out in a dramatic sweep. "Welcome aboard, son!"

The realization took a while in coming, but when it did it struck him like a rubber bullet. Kaz hadn't made love to him; he was welcoming him to the family, an initiation process. He had been ordered to do it...to do him.

Fox, his eyes still large, allowed a grin to break through his embarrassment. He felt humiliation and anger swirling around a grotto of confusion, but he tried to put on a happy face. Dice had the group cheer for him a bit more before they disbanded, scattering off across the valley to resume their activities before the strange after-sex party. Dice stood there in his bare feet, a guitar slung across his chest by a rawhide strap, his torn maroon pants twitching as a sudden wind blew through the mountain teeth down into the sandy bowl. Dice told Kaz to go work on the vehicles, and the doberman walked away, patting Fox on the shoulder as he passed. The marks Kaz had given him stung in agony blossoms, echoes of the canine's rod exploring him.

Dice took him around to the hutch, showing him all of the unused bunks in untouched rooms, filled with junk they had scrounged or stolen. He showed him where the group put all of their clothes, a large tangled pile of shirts, pants, footwear, and extraneous accessories in the middle of a small room. The room across the single hall consisted of a primitive laundry device. If you wanted to wear anything, all you had to do was root through it and put it on, no permission needed. Fox understood what Dice was saying and, with a sinking feeling in his heart, he tossed his clothes onto the pile, heaving a sigh. He was about to put on something else, but Dice stalled him, bringing him to other rooms. His gun he had to place into a makeshift arms locker, little more than a closet filled and flowing over with rifles, sidearms, and knives. As they were walking out, Fox told him he found their clothing system strange, to Dice's beaming joy.

"You can never be truly free with personal possessions," he said sagely. Fox followed him out the door and back into the heat.

The coyote then started bringing him around the valley, marking points of interest and impressive geographic areas. Fox kept his head down, ears flat and tail tucked, unable to remove the uncomfortable blush on his face. On their walkabout, Fox ruminated on Dice's proficiency in manipulation; he wondered if having him walk around the valley completely naked had some ulterior motive. If it was just for the shame, it was working.

Dice brought him around to the water purification shed and showed him the corral, but Fox noticed that when he talked about them he spoke in a roundabout fashion, bouncing from subject to subject if they had the slightest relation to each other. He began to talk slower, walk slower, he emphasized less of his words with hand gestures. When he felt there was a long enough break in the coyote's diction, he brought it up.

"Are you alright, Dice?"

"Yeah, I'm just giving you my dry speech. You dry yet?"

Fox, realizing with a start that he was in fact dry, told Dice he was. They walked a little bit further, up to one of the saucer-like rocks that jutted up from the sand. They were down at the deepest point in the valley; a dust devil had kicked up into existence, whirling into a curious spiral and crumbling away as soon as it sprang up. Dice sat down on the highest point of the rock, his large feet dangling over the rounded edge. He turned around and patted the rock surface to his right, offering Fox a kind look. The vulpine sat down, feeling the warm stone on his rump, nervous in his nakedness.

Dice unslung his guitar, the excess strings high at the neck tinkling against the wood. He strummed a couple chords, searching for issues and tuning them away. Fox sat quietly, hands resting protectively in his lap as Dice settled into a crawling instrumental song. Fox listened to it, looking out over the landscape at a group of barren bushes that wavered in the wind, as though dancing to the lilting, four-note melody.

Fox didn't know how long he sat there, sitting bare-assed beside the biggest guy he'd ever seen, the heat shining down from the cloudless blue sky. He had no idea what he should be doing or whether or not he should be doing anything other than sit and listen. He focused on the song, letting the simple combination of notes slip into his ears. It had a decent sound, he had to admit; it was slow and vibrating, but a sinister undercurrent flowed behind it. It made Fox think of bones bleaching in the unhindered sun, blood and sweat and tears soaking into the ground, hard labor for nothing, sandstorms burying rusted bullet casings and empty beer bottles, heat, sweat-stink, sex. Maybe in other circumstances, Fox might have bought the album.

Dice cut the song with a single lonesome twang on one of the higher strings. Fox didn't know what the string was called, didn't care, everything was making him tired.

"You're not one of the king's soldiers, son."

Fox looked to the coyote, scratching an itch on his thigh.

"No, I'm not."

"Mercenary?"

Fox paused at this, wondering how deep into the truth he should go. "Yeah," he said slowly.

"Why?"

"I didn't like all the rules. I didn't like following orders from brainless officers who didn't give a damn about their squads. I--."

"Tell me about your father."

Fox swallowed. "What about my father?"

Dice shrugged, casual as you please. "A lot of kids in the military try to grow up to be just like dear old dad. They try to walk in those big shoes and carry those big guns and talk those big words. You look like someone who should have been in the army, but you got the brazenness of the airforce. Your hair gives it away. Tell me about your father, Fox."

"I hated my dad."

Dice smirked, setting the guitar down in his lap. He turned his head, eyes like melted amber and frozen whiskey. He pointed to them with his index and middle finger, making a gun with his hand. "Son, these are real eyes that can spot real lies. We don't lie out here. I can tell you liked your father. Every child either loves or hates their parents, and either of those with absolute certainty. Tell me about your dad, Fox, and tell me true."

Fox sat there, trying to come up with a solid lie, but Dice was staring whiskey fire at him. It was too hot, couldn't concentrate. He swallowed, looking down at his hands for a few moments before his gaze returned to Dice's face, to those twin pools of dark honey.

He told Dice as much as he wanted to admit. He even mentioned his mother, which he had not intended but he felt the words pouring out and he couldn't stop. It had been pent up, everything, the memories and the deaths. While he spoke, Dice played another song on his steel-string. It sounded exactly like the previous one, with a slight change in the combination of notes. Dice listened and played, and when Fox finished, he had the vulpine hold his guitar. Fox fumbled with its size, eventually spinning it so that it rested in a comfortable position.

Dice told him to play a song; Fox couldn't think of one, so he settled on a blundering attempt to recreate the tune Dice had played. The coyote listened for a bit, then spoke.

"You're really hung up on your father, Fox. You really want to be like him, walk and talk and look like him. Your memories of him, I think, have got you strung up on a rope; you're hanging yourself with those memories of both your parents."

Fox listened as he strummed Dice's guitar, his blush returning in full bloom. "So what do you think I should do?"

"Well, that's not up to me, that's up to you. I'm not your father; you have to stand up and be your own father, Fox."

Dice gave him a friendly smile, hopped down from the rock and started walking up to the buggy corral. Fox stopped playing, watching the coyote trudge through the sand.

What the hell just happened? he thought.

---

Two moons followed the desert planet around the sun, chasing it like a pair of stalking predators. Lemuria was the largest and closest, a giant glimmering pale silver with the faint suggestion of exposed bone; behind it, much farther in the black ocean, was Leng, poison yellow shedding hardly any light even at its fullest. Leng was just beginning another creeping lap around its family, where it would return nine days later.

The sister moons watched in oblivion as a procession of several dozen furs stepped through the sandy ground within the mountainous bowl. They cast long shadows as they cavorted and laughed. It was a hot night and the wind had been decaying into nothingness since the sun began its descent; some were fanning themselves with hands or tails as they walked in broken groups--or, in rare cases, by themselves--toward the large community tent.

A banquet had been set up on long tables, four running parallel to each other, facing one perpendicular table that had been set atop cinder blocks. Fox sat at one of the end tables, his back to the canvas and the higher table just to his right. He had on a pair of black shorts that were two sizes too big and a baggy white top, and both stank, filled with memories of the previous owners, which had been like as not every member in the group.

He watched the members that were already sitting and the ones that were coming in. Dice had called in the other members from neighboring camps and those on food acquisition, even those on guard duty, and they were now diligently packing the tent. He saw Datura go to sit at the high table on the far end, a scowl creasing the red-dyed fur on her brow. Through the multiple conversations that were taking place he could hear Samantha's tittering, bird-like laugh. They all cracked jokes, laughed, clapped their hands, told stories, and not one hand touched the food that had already been set before them. Fox, even though he hadn't eaten anything in twenty four hours and ignoring the pang of hunger that made its existence audible as a dull rumble in his stomach, did the same. He focused on the party, at each and every face, trying to see them as the soldiers they had once been.

Mentally, Fox was letting loose a string of expletives; there wasn't one tiger in the bunch, let alone two. A shiver of worry rattled through him.

He had not questioned anyone about the Tassel sisters, not just yet; he didn't want to seem conspicuous, so, curious about the social climate, he decided to talk to the others about their leader, Dice. He tried to pick apart the answers he'd received, trying to understand them and make sense out of the contradictory opinions; Dice was not their leader, as they were all brothers and sisters and therefore all equal in importance; he was their leader, teacher, brother, parent; he was a magician, a nomad no-man; he was nothing, and so he was everything; Dice was whatever he wanted to be.

He was whatever you wanted him to be...

As the last few remaining members sat down to the tables, resting their rears on long planks of structural wood, Fox saw Dice walk in, ducking his head under the opening. He was garbed in sheets of diaphanous white linen that gleamed in the candlelight and fell over his body like fragments of mist, making no sound whatsoever as they fell to the ground behind him, his tail swishing beneath the sheets like an animated varicose vein. His smile was bright and perfect, reflecting the candlelight. He acknowledged everyone's comments with an appreciative nod, making his way to the head of the table.

Following him and sitting down to the coyote's right was a black fox vixen, wearing a bright green floral-print dress that was patched up in spots, the hemline wavering just above her knees. Fox admired her legs and tail, as did many others; there was some snickering amongst the group as they spotted her. She wasn't very old, perhaps in her early forties, but she carried herself like she was much older. She had blonde hair, falling over her back like a gilded waterfall. As she sat down, Fox saw the look in her dark yellow eyes, the look of someone who doesn't want to be where she is and doesn't know how to get out. Fox felt something give in his heart when those eyes locked on his for a fraction of a second before falling to her plate.

Fox turned to the young woman sitting beside him, a pretty field mouse with long red curls in a burlap poncho who called herself Ruby Jo, and asked her who the vixen was.

"Oh, that's Abdiel. She's Dicey's favorite."

"So, she's like a second-in-command?"

Ruby Jo laughed and shook her head. "Oh, no, sweetheart. Dice keeps her close 'cause she gives the best blowjobs."

Skin was next, wearing the same tucked shirt and pants he had seen her in earlier; she clearly didn't share her brother's grandiose and decadent manner. The little iron key bounced against her chest as she walked between the tables. He noticed that nobody wanted to look at the coyote, much less be aware of her existence, going to great and petty lengths to miss her emotionless gaze. She sat down at her brother's left, silent and watchful.

Dice held up his hands, and the tent went silent. Almost silent...

Fox heard two female voices still talking, unaware that everyone else had shut their mouths and were staring at them. He couldn't see through the rows of heads, but he could hear Samantha's voice, soft laugh. On a blind shot of intuition, he directed his attention to Dice.

The phrase "if looks could kill," leapt into Fox's mind, and he fancied if there was one in the whole galaxy who could actually pull off that fantastic action, it was Dice Mullein. His eyes were gravelights, irises shrunk into infernal beads, staring a world of destruction at the offending pair. His face displayed an expression of a horrified as much as a horrific nature.

With one swift movement, he grabbed a small bowl of rice that had lain on the table before him and flung it at the offenders. The hit was beyond precision; the bowl struck a girl on the back of her head, the grains of rice raining down on the tables sounding like muffled applause. The girl, a short red squirrel, yelped in pain and clutched the back of her head, fear rimming her eyes as she turned to stare at the coyote. It was as silent as silence could be defined.

The coyote continued his apocalyptic stare for several long moments, making far more than the young squirrel shift anxiously in their seats. Eventually, he closed his eyes, sitting down and bowing his head as though he were tired. When he opened his eyes again, they appeared normal.

With a dramatic lethargy, he stood in his seat, placing his palms some feet above the flickering candleflames on his table, careful not to singe the soft linens that covered him. Closing his eyes, he spoke in a low timbre, reciting what Fox understood to be a benediction over the dinner.

"All winds and air is one air. All waters are one water. All trees and grass is one land. All life, fish, snake, bug, dog, bat, cat, rat, all is one life. Hyaena..."

The group repeated the name Hyaena. Fox, caught off guard, mumbled the final syllable. The coyote sat back down and promptly began to eat, and the rest of the group followed suit.

Fox wasn't quite sure what was on his plate, though it appeared to be a collection of fruits--he recognized the spherical Keziah fruit, red and pulpy in their freshness--and thick tubular roots, soft after having been thoroughly steamed. He poked curiously at them with a utensil, noting the toughness of the skin. Apprehensive but not wishing to seem picky, he speared one of the tubular roots and hauled it up, bringing the gnarled tip to his lips. He bit off a piece, crunching the bark between his teeth. It was as pungent as it was bitter, but it was food; he chewed and swallowed the piece.

There was some conversation around him, mindless drone behind smacking lips and crunching food. Fox tuned it out, focusing on the sharp but appetizing plants. He was starving, and after acquiring a taste for the peculiar comestibles he quickly devoured everything.

After a time, the sounds of eating subsided and were replaced with conversation. There was talk of fun and games, which Fox didn't understand but he listened carefully, curious as to what "fun and games" entailed. They were talking about pirates, samurais, witches, lost jungle tribes, knights defending righteous causes and noble places, a universe of topics that to them seemed to refer to the same things and which Fox found difficult to follow.

Fox turned his eyes over to Skin. She was eating like everybody else, but she wasn't looking at her plate; she was still surveying the group as they dined. He also noticed that her eyes did not turn in their sockets. Instead, she made small movements and gestures with her head. He wondered if that was intentional or if it was some physiological issue.

Soon, as the plates and bowls were cleared of their burden and taken away, there came a melodic tinkling from the head table. All heads turned to witness Dice standing tall again, bright white crocodile smile on his canid face.

"Alright, kids. Who wants a story?"

There was soft laughter amongst the crowd, amusement at being referred to as children. After a pause, everybody spoke with one voice, proclaiming "We do!" There was cheering and clapping, and when Dice raised his hands again all voices died down.

"Well, I think you all know the story that I'm about to tell you. So get down, get out, and tune in...

"Before there was ALL, there was NIL. There was a nothing so encompassing and absolute that nothing could exist within it, and that was NIL, devourer of all that is. And NIL lived in fear of itself, for nothing can only live in nothing, at a time when nothing was everything. No light, no time, no dark, no shine; for whole aeons past, NIL was king.

"But from the face of NIL there grew a bead, and the bead grew into a ball, growing ever growing ever growing! And from that ball shone a light. From the ball there was dark. From the ball came the voice of ALL, and NIL knew more fear, for ALL was everything, and nothing became nothing. NIL became a ball became a bead became a nothing, and ALL was born, and ALL blossomed forth like the flowers and trees and plants and life that ALL carried within it. But ALL still lived in fear of NIL, for NIL was everything that ALL was not. And so, to defend itself against NIL, ALL grew and grew and spread out to create the suns and worlds and the life and the death to fill them. With no light, there is no darkness; with no life, there is no death; and ALL is everything.

"ALL was pleased with its creations, but ALL could not survey the everything that it was and also defend against NIL, and so ALL created a guardian, a watcher to watch over everything that ALL created. And Hyaena was born.

"And so Hyaena went across the worlds and suns and stars to watch over the everything that ALL is. Hyaena always watched but could never speak, for the guardian of ALL spoke with the voice of ALL, and no living thing can survive the sound of ALL. Hyaena witnessed the first time Male Spirit awoke and went to Female Spirit to make music, and Hyaena watched as Male Spirit took Female Spirit and together created LOVE, and Hyaena ever watching took LOVE and carried it across the worlds and suns and stars. And ALL was pleased.

"As time passed, there was discontent, for Male Spirit and Female Spirit became tired of the land, which would not allow their plants to grow, which would not provide fish from the rivers, which would not provide coolness on the breeze. The Spirits became restless, and wanted more from ALL. Though ALL could not hear their complaints, Hyaena could hear, and Hyaena watched as the Spirits wanted more. They grew tired of obeying the land and the water and the air, so they made the land and waters and air obey them! The Spirits imposed upon the worlds and suns and stars their new orders, and cities were built, empires fashioned, lives ignited. And Hyaena watched.

"Hyaena watched as the Spirits glutted on their sins and ruined each other, for they each wanted more and more and when the taste of more touched their lips they wanted more forever more! Hyaena watched as cities were burned and razed and resurrected and burned and razed a thousand times over, for the Spirits had passed on their wants to their children, poisoning their own children to sate their exploding lusts! And this was the way of the Spirits, for they were the seeds of NIL that NIL had become when ALL arose from its face. And the seeds of NIL spread, spreading outward as vines drenched in its own blood and effluence and influence. From them NIL began a revolution of pollution and confusion! Of sadism and papism! Of chow-chow ry'll gichigu po-na-na shabbada!

"And the children of the Spirits who were the seeds of NIL spread out amongst the worlds and suns and stars, and Hyaena watched until Hyaena could watch no more, and ALL felt fear as NIL began to grow, slowly infecting ALL with the nothingness that was NIL. And Hyaena fled to where the seeds of NIL had not yet conquered.

"Aeons pass, and the children of the Spirits who were the seeds of NIL filled ALL, and ALL was no more.

"Hyaena came to a world where it kept the secrets of ALL, and Hyaena rested there for millennia. Until one day...a traveler came. The traveler was a gentle child of the Male Spirit, and he was disgusted with the state of things, and his brothers had tried to harm him because he would not play their games, for they wanted to lie and kill and burn, and that wasn't the traveler's bag. _Living_turned the traveler on, and though his brothers didn't want him to live he would live. And one day, while his brothers and sisters played their wicked games, he ran away to peaceful climes, and stumbled upon the bed of Hyaena.

"Hyaena felt a difference in this child of the Male Spirit, and so contacted the traveler. But Hyaena could not speak, for Hyaena spoke with the voice of ALL. The traveler told Hyaena of his brothers and sisters who would hurt him and others for fun and how they tried to make him hurt others, but he would not, and so they hurt him, and the traveler feared for his life and ran away. But Hyaena told the traveler with moving hands that everything was okay, and that the traveler need not fear Hyaena nor feel shame, for Hyaena too was one who had fled.

"And from Hyaena the traveler learned the secrets of ALL, and when Hyaena had no more secrets to teach, Hyaena then instructed the traveler to make ready for the revolt against NIL and the return of ALL.

"Hyaena told the traveler to return to his brothers and sisters and teach them the secrets of ALL, and those who would listen would be the brothers and sisters of Hyaena, and those who would not were the children of King NIL and were enemies. And Hyaena told the traveler where to take his brothers and sisters so they would be safe and where they would be ready to bring about the return of ALL. Hyaena told the traveler to live and love and be wary of the enemies of ALL, for the children of NIL are all around, all around, watching and waiting to kill and rape and torture. And Hyaena told the traveler to carry with him his steel-mounted gilded chariots and take them into the desert, and to take the weapons of metal and fire and take them to the desert and to be ready to bring about the return of ALL. And the traveler would know when to begin the return of ALL, for Hyaena told him that the desert will be the home of him and his brothers and sisters until they number forty-four, for forty-four is the number of Hyaena. And the brothers and sisters of Hyaena did as Hyaena willed for the return of ALL.

"Can you count, children? Can you fuckin' count!?"

The group reeled back as the coyote's voice suddenly exploded inside the tent. This was clearly not part of the story. They stared in mute horror and suspense at Dice, who clawed at the table, leaving long streaks in the wood. He glared at them, challenging them to answer. His amber eyes turned to Fox; a row of icicles formed along the vulpine's spine.

"Stand up, Fox."

Feeling the mass confusion coil around him as well, Fox slowly got up off of his seat. Over three dozen eyes turned to look at him, emotion cocktail in their faces. Blood shot into Fox's cheeks, burning his face. Dice, his angry act over, put on his friend-mask again and smiled at him. He held up his hand toward him like a carnival barker introducing the newest attraction. He turned to the crowd. Only silence dared to exist before he spoke, and it fled as his gravel-laced voice appeared.

"We now number forty-four. We are ready."

A communal gasp muttered across the canvas. Forty-three faces were looking at each other, to Fox, to Dice, and back to each other in a dazed cycle. It was the stunned, disbelieving breath before one realizes that one's dream and fantasy has just come into solid, palpable reality.

Dice clapped his hands, powerful rapid slaps, and in an instant the whole tent burst into a raucous cheer. Whistling, shouting, and the thunder of clapping and laughter filled the community tent. Fox, nervously clearing his throat, realized they were all cheering for him.

Fox grinned, his blush deepening. He nodded to everyone, accepting their praise while his heart felt like it had sunk into an oily black pit.

_What the hell am I getting into?

_

---------------------------------[Author's Notes:]

--"Meat Spear;" I want to know how many punk rock or black metal bands that have taken that name and immediately regretted it.

--"...pure delight filling in the gaps as Kaz filled his gap." [I apologize, but I was tired. Shitty lines occur in shitty minds.]