From furry.olsy-na.com!news.fysh.org!not-for-mail Mon Jan 5 13:56:29 1998 Path: furry.olsy-na.com!news.fysh.org!not-for-mail From: chaos98@geocities.com (Chaosbringer) Newsgroups: fur.stories.misc Subject: An Attempt at a Fur Story Date: Mon, 05 Jan 1998 05:18:16 GMT Organization: Chaosbringer Programming Lines: 136 Message-ID: <34b06a9b.26551556@news.fysh.org> Reply-To: chaos98@geocities.com NNTP-Posting-Host: b3port35.penn.com X-Newsreader: Forte Free Agent 1.11/32.235 Xref: furry.olsy-na.com fur.stories.misc:194 Hello all This is my first attempt at writing any kind of story. I hope ya'll like it. Please feel free to email me with any comments. Go ahead and be brutal about it...on second thought, dont...you might hurt my feelings :) I couldn't think of a title for it; if anyone can, please email me. I dont know about any copyright stuff. So, without further ado, here is part one of my story. -Chaos A Moonlit night. He stops for a moment to catch his breath. Shots ring out, and he vanishes into the night. Soon after, the hunters pause to pick up his trail again. "He's been this way," one of them shouts to the others. "He's tired, he wont get far. Let's call it a night." They mark a nearby tree, unaware that they are being watched. They head back, the glow of their flashlights swallowed by the darkness of the night. He slowly emerges from the brush, senses on alert, making sure they are gone. He sniffs the air, still hanging with the stench of humans. They'll be back in the morning, he thought. Slowly he resumed his trek through the forest. He came upon what looked to be a safe place to spend the night. He sat down and closed his eyes. He laid back and thought about the recent events. How long had it been? "Six days," he blurted out. He closed his eyes and easily reacalled what had happened on the first of those six days. He had been wandering around the forest, as he often did, when he came upon a small human child lying unconscious on the ground. The fallen branches were a telltale sign that the child had fallen from a nearby tree. As he knelt down to get a closer look, he heard other humans in the distance. He was just about to wave to them and point out the child when a woman screamed, pointing at him... He paused in his thoughts just long enough to shift into a more comfotable position, then continued. He froze, one paw on the child, staring at the group of humans before him. Coming to his senses after a short pause, he opened his mouth to explain the situation when one of the humans grabbed a large stick from the ground and charged at him, swinging the stick wildly before himself. Realizing the danger he was in, he did the only logical thing to do--he ran. Later that day he had gone back only to find another group of humans. Right away he noticed that most of them carried guns. He was smart enough to know that a human with a gun had only one thing in mind. Suddenly it hit him..._he_ was that thing on their minds. He stopped as the thought sank in. "But why?" he said aloud, forgetting about the humans for a moment. Instantly one of them turned, and without a word lifted his gun and fired. He heard the bullet go whizzing by his ear. The others turned and one by one lifted their guns. The moment of hesitation had passed, it was time to fight or run, and under the circumstances there was only one logical choice. He opened his eyes and stared into the darkness. His stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten in almost two days. A mouse scurried nearby. He snatched it and held it in his paw for a moment, then tossed it away. It looked at him a second or two, then hurried on its way. He sighed a long, audible sigh, and tried to recall the rest of the past few days. It was the morning of the fourth day since the incident. He had been running all day and most of the night before, catching an hour or two of sleep only when it was safe, usually awaking to the sound of hunters on his trail. He had a feeling the hunters had already found his den, and dared not go back. His stomach reminded him that he hadn't had any time at all to hunt, and his cache was gone days ago. Suddenly it dawned on him...he could go see Danny. Danny was the only human who had ever been nice to him, and the two had become good friends. That's it, he thought. He could just go see Danny, explain what was going on, and Danny could straighten things out with the humans who were chasing him. It seemed simple enough. He stopped for a moment to look around. He had never been in this part of the forest. "Oh, lovely," he said to noone inparticular. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. No sign of the hunters, at least. He found a rather large tree and sat down, back against it. He sighed, closed his eyes to collect his thoughts, and fell asleep. He awoke a few hours later to the smell of food. He stretched and opened his eyes to find a figure before him, unloading several objects from a pack. The figure turned and spoke. "Good afternoon." He shook his head, eyes still blurry from sleep. "Danny?" he asked, unsure. "Yes," came the reply, "'tis I, my fuzzy friend." Shaking the sleep from his head, he rose, wearily walking toward Danny, who put a hand on his shoulder. "How are ya, Miles? Ya look terrible. C'mon over and sit down. I got somethin' for ya." Danny smiled, and led Miles over to the place where he had unloaded his pack. They sat down, and Miles looked at the pack's contents eagerly. Food, and plenty of it. Danny held up a pack of lunch meat. "Something from the meat case?" he asked in a silly voice. They both laughed, neither knowing why it was funny, neither caring. Fifteen minutes and a half dozen sandwiches later, Miles turned to Danny. He took a breath to speak, but Danny interrupted with three words. "I already know." A shiver ran down his spine. How could he know? Danny, seeing the surprised expression on his companion's face, unfolded a newspaper clipping he had taken out of the pack and handed it to Miles. Miles took it and read the top line. In large, bold letters across the top were the words "Fox Kills Boy." He gasped and looked at Danny. He looked back to the paper in his paws, skimming through the article until he came upon a sentance near the end. He stared at it for what seemed like an eternity, then turned to face his friend. "Why?" he said softly, tears forming in his eyes. A long pause, then he spoke again in a quick, scared voice. "I found the kid and he was hurt but he was alive and the humans came over and chased me away but the kid was alive I didn't do anything to him and I don't understand and now there's a reward for me but and I'm scared and they're chasing me and i just don't understand..." Tears were streaming down his face as his voice trailed off. Danny moved over to him and held him in his arms, speaking softly to him. The forest was silent except for the soft sobbing. The two sat there for awhile. Miles suddenly looked up. "You'd better go," he began, his voice wavering, "I dont want you to get hurt. I just couldnt forgive myself if..." Silence. Finally, Danny spoke. "I just need you to hold out for a few more days. I have an idea but it'll take some time. I'll meet you back here in..." He thought for a moment. "Three days. And dont try to convince me otherwise." A small grin appeared on his face. Miles looked up again. "Okay," he said softly, "three days." He grinned back. The two helped each other up. Danny knelt down to place the remaining food and other objects back into the pack. He handed it to Miles and held out his hand. Miles took it with his paw. "We'll get through this," he began, then stopped. The sun was beginning to sink below the horizon. Miles spun around quickly and sniffed the air. "They're close. You'd better go now." Danny pulled a redish-orange colored hat from his jacket. "You go first, I'll try to distract them." he said. "With _that_?" came the reply. "Well," he said slowly, "they are humans. How smart can they be?" He looked at Miles, trying to keep a straight face. They laughed for a moment and turned away from each other. "Three days!" shouted Miles, already out of sight. Danny stood there for a moment, smiling, then ran off to distract the hunters. Miles watched him go from behind a large bush. "Be careful," he whispered, then ran off through the forest. In the darkness, he felt around and found the pack which he still carried with him. There was no need for light, he knew what was inside. He opened it and reached in, running his paw over the objects it contained. One inparticular was a photo of he and Danny together at the lake. There were a few other things inside of less significance, but still special. He closed the pack and set it aside before taking a deep breath and finally curling up to sleep. End of part one :)