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Chapter 4: Hot Bretons

The sun rises, but you've already been awake for a while with anticipation, one more day of classes, then the first date of your life. The excitement was one you were unfamiliar with, for one, despite the desire to jump up and down there was also something that felt like a knot just below your heart or perhaps upon it, you can't really be sure. The sun was not even close to up but the strange morning sermon on the rock station was just as good to any rooster.

"...And when you go to be judged will you be worthy of Jesus's forgiveness?" Spits the pastor.

With those lovely words of morning advice, you start your morning routine. A quick glance at the clock shows its 5:30 AM, like every day, Monday through Friday, from September through May. Throwing on clothes and tossing shit into your bag another thing from the pastor's mouth catches your ear.

"...For the Lord made it so that all the intellectual races different so that they would one day..." He continues just before you slap the off button to the alarm.

Your mind tries to fill in the blank bits on the sermon, but quickly you're stumped with the thought of whether the sermon was going down the path of being fruitful and multiply in the traditional chirstian manner or that of the value of chastity. Both sorts have been more popular in recent years. The thought leaves your head the moment you leave your room.

By the time you realize you've eaten you've forgotten what it was, but given the brick in your stomach it was oatmeal in one way or another and before your morning brain has returned the controls to the conscious part of your mind. One more the autopilot takes control and by the time your brain clears the fog of waking you're sitting in your truck with the keys just outside the ignition. Yep, its a friday, and like always you need to get to school to work on the paperwork for the game hoist. You'd think a product alone would be enough, and with the public school system, you'd be so wrong.

Thankfully, paperwork is not the only thing to look forward to today and while its been front and center in your few moments of real consciousness, the swaying of that orange, white, and black brush of a tail. It's dancing in your head like a Viper woman in a music video, your mind runs through the memory of the wind pulling Jenny's clothes tight around her body giving you a glance of what you hope to see when you *hopefully* peel them off. The terrible lewdness of that thought feels out of character to you, but oddly right.

As you drive down the winding path of suburbia towards school the words Eida told you yesterday, "I wonder what four extra years of repression will do to you?". The rat amazon's words echo in your head.

"No." You say aloud, stopped for probably too long at an empty intersection.

It's itching at you those words and that thought. Maybe its because you missed church on sunday. Yeah, definitely because of that. Nothing More... is the last thought you let through before you force it from your mind.

You turn on the radio, nothing good on the AM frequencies, even worse options on the FM. It seems they replaced The Rush Limbaugh Show with something more annoying, and the Reptile Information Network was spouting off its usual "Everyone was a Lizard" bullshit. As soon as you hear the ear grating noises of the Top 40 station you just turn the darn thing off.

The remaining ten or so minutes of the drive are spent focusing on the road and trying once more to figure out what kind of oats you ate for breakfast as you try your darndest to keep your thoughts purer than taut clothes on foxy femmes. As you pull into the Jasmine V. Lee High School parking lot. Come to think of it this is fifth to last friday you have here at JVL High. Its somewhat bittersweet, being this close to the end of high school. Kinda surreal actually when you think about it, from here it's trade school and taking up the family business. Man, those fuckwits in Bowling for Soup are about as wrong as you can get, highschool ends, and it ends quick, at least for you.

That being said, working under pops at the shop is plenty good money, and you'll get to move out past the Al-Qurak divides the western seaboard from the interior highlands meet. It's about forty-five minutes from here to the industrial park between the two farms and eight hours from your grandparent's home on the eastern, mountainous coast of Hathia. You haven't been out to the shop in maybe two months, but you've had plenty of time working with tools to keep up with the men at the shop.

Once you park, the walk through the still dark parking lot in the cool springtime air is rather relaxing, the sort of weather that precedes the both warm and cool weather one can only find in spring. It'd be perfect if you couldn't feel the pollen filling your lungs with each breath. It instantly reminds you why you prefer the highlands and the mountains, the tree bukkake doesn't affect you there for whatever reason out there. The school itself looks quite imposing in the dark, like a cross between an office building and a prision, the fence around school and the brick two story complex that makes up the campus proper just gives it an off vibe, not that it terribly much matters now.

You slink your way into the courtyard, and the day starts like any other. Work before the busses come, meet with Mickey and chat;Today was comparing the practical values of superpowers and later the cost of feather shampoo vs. fur shampoo vs. soap for scales and skin. Apparently Eida was off with Jenny to talk about "girly dating stuff" as Mickey volunteered, and the next conversation was, as expected, about your date with Jenny he gives advice he doesn't even know you already got from Eida. During homeroom, Jenny and you stay to your social cliques, with her chatting away with her friends and "Bigger Than" and the Amazon teasing you, mainly with Kaylee threatening you with; "And if it doesn't go well the Lincoln twins have next pick on you and I won't be able to keep them from slipping into your room whether you like it or not."

The shop classes go by without an issue, like always, and you finally demonstrate to some of the underclassmen why you're called Wrench Daddy as you hoist an unruly deer boy into the air by his haunches when he starts fucking with your game hoist. It's a somewhat normal occurrence at this point for dumbasses in the shop to be punished by being put into the hoist, at least that's what you heard the teachers do with it once you leave to keep unruly students in line.

Latin was divided into the "Male and Female Forums" for the day, where the men converse with men, and the women with women courtesy of our Rome-loving teacher Mrs. Holden who seems to love keeping the sexes as separates as plebs and patricians. Its whatever, and todays games of stratego are being played en masse with nearly everyone on the Masculum Latus. While every player is given different roles and troop types you find yourself as leader of the Auxillia Levis Equestris. Meanwhile you can feel Jenny stealing glances every now and again as the army of Fortia Generalis Gigachadus dukes it out with Magnus Imperator Basedius for the control of the Roman Empire. Ultimately, just after you execute a fantastic flanking attack on the MIB forces the bell rings and you have to give Byran back his paper cutouts.

Before leaving you do a scan of the female side, spotting Jenny slowly packing up her things. Naturally you approach. "Hey Jenny." You say with a normal smile.

Before she responds a horse girl who you don't know the name of slides in. "Wrench Daddy and Spagjenny, you know what I dig it." She says with a nod. You shoot her a death glare but she either doesn't notice or doesn't care and probably both.

"H-h-." She stops herself mid-sentence, takes a deep breath. "Hey Tucker, you ready for today?" She asks seemingly much more comfortable around you.

Right Right Right, plan, what was the plan? "Yeah actually I realized aside from "Hot Bretons" we don't have a plan, so like meeting places, times and whatnot." You say, trying your best to be proactive.

"Right, you're the ride given I don't have my license yet, and meeting places, I'm guessing Jersey Mike's doesn't work terribly well. You got any ideas?" She asks.

"Oh, shit. You know the crosswalk by the stadium? The one right across from the donut places?" You ask.

"Yeah, the one that faces Iq'tar street right?" Jenny asks her tail gently swaying.

You can feel something tingly in you as you notice that Jenny is excited to see you. It feels natural, anxious, oddly pleasant, and worryingly new. "Yeah, that one, you want to meet there at like 2:30-2:45ish?"

Jenny nods eagerly in agreement. "Great, I'll see you then." She says with a cheerful nod. Just as she finishes a slightly peeved looking duck woman you know to be Natalie peeks her head in.

"Jenny is this *boy* here bothering you? C'mon we got Student Government right now and today we're gonna need every minute" she demands oozing passive-aggressive quackatude.

"Hey we were talking ~Natalie~ why don't go waddle out and wait like a normal person." You mock.

The duck glares at you. "No." She responds. You swear that is that were a text message there'd be a stupid little heart emoji after it.

Jenny gives you a wave to see you off and you make your way towards your next class. Gah that bitch Natalie needs something inside rather than that cactus she's clearly been using as a dildo.

Natalie, the duck who's probably a lesbian, is one of the many thorns in the sides of you and "Bigger Than". The problems aren't terrible, but more just constant little nuances; and while you can't fix most of them you're thoroughly convinced that a good dicking would be the best sort of personality adjustment. Maybe college will be good for her, it's not like you're going to uni.

In all honesty she ranks fairly low on the nuisance scale, far below the "Avian-Mammalio Privilege" lectures the new Principle is pushing for "increased tolerance of our reptile neighbors." She's as mainland as it comes, and the deep dissatisfied muffled engine revs of the gators show just how perpetually out of touch she is. But hey, that's public school. Then there was the anime club, the band kids, and the stereotypes of the human women being projected on Ethan and you. There are others still but that's the top five.

Just one more class and its time for lunch Tucker. Your conscious reassures before a wave of anxiety washes over you tightening like a twisting knife just above your stomach. Time for English now, let's hope the sub of the day doesn't give us their full political ideology like the last two. You wind through the halls like always, the labyrinthine nature of the schools crudely welded together into one. Sitting in the trapezoidal classroom is one very bored rat man.

"Good morning, take a seat, we're just watching "The Great Gatsby" today, the one from 1978." He says flatly.

As more people pile into the class one, Beatrice a human lass, bestows a bit of trivia on you. "You know this movie was delayed by two years 'cause of Swine Flu nearly killing the director, he was one of the first Boar directors in American history."

"You know Beatrice, I didn't know that, thanks for telling me." You say masking your total disregard for that knowledge, or at least trying anyway.

"I can clearly tell you don't care about cinema Tucker, I guess you only care about making things, bondage, and from what I hear, fox women." She remarks with equal dispassion.

"I see rumor moves quickly." You remark keeping your tone flat.

"It was always talk among the ladies what you wind up doing, Janine thought you either an ace or gay. Personally I had my money on the Lincoln twins knowing how friendly you and Bigger Than are, and how forward the matriarch of the ratpack was about their inclinations." She continues as if she were talking about the price of eggs in China.

"Eida and Mickey had other plans, and if they had failed I'm sure Kaylee would've had her way." You remark as if referring to a stranger.

"A shame, though knowing your blood it makes sense. My mother says your father was a wild goose before he too found himself a vixen." She continues.

"Have you considered a career in espionage as your network of informants is scarily good." You remark finally letting some emotion in.

"Actually I want to be a PI." Beatrice remarks.

"It seems like a good fit for you." You say trying to sound happy for her.

"I think so. I think you'll be happy to take over your pop's shops, its a garage here, and two others right?" She replies clearly just being polite.

"Yeah the mechanic's here, a metalshop out in the swamps, and another more general shop out in the East." You answer.

"Huh, so that's why the parts for my Jeep were cheaper at your dad's garage." She casually remarks.

Well yeah obviously it's cheaper to make a part in-house then it is to buy it, it's not that it's cheaper to make it is the fact that we don't have to pay the mainland extortion fee. "I'm glad you took your business to us." You say trying your hardest to avoid a rant about the price of Ford parts.

The film rolls after the late bell rings, and it's watchable, half the words are ancient mainlander slang so absolutely incomprehensible to most folks in the class. Like what the hell if a flapper? Or flip side for that matter. The longer it goes on the more you think Beowulf in Old English would probably be more understandable. Soon, after Mr. Gatsby has thrown yet another party the bell rings, and your lunch period, C Lunch, from 12:00 - 12:30. You'll get to chat with Mickey and Eida, Bigger Than will probably dump some random thing on you "For the Sake of Mankind Bro", and you'll get to talk with Jenny.

And the knife is twisting again.

As you approach the main cafeteria the eight food lines, each with their own daily rotation of foods for each of the eight main varieties of diet, now, you, being a human don't really have to give a shit and can go wherever you want. Some more obligates are not so lucky, notably mantids, some felines, and some varieties of scalefolk, but the shortest end of the stick goes to the shell eaters, being resigned to nothing but shellfish and insects in sauce. A pity too since shrimp prices skyrocketed so they're resigned to lump green crab and crickets, usually in a shitty curry sauce or "Welsh Style Stew", something that doesn't exist to anyone's knowledge, even theWelsh exchange Sheepent was confused when he first saw it.

You elect for the "seafood", which is what is supposedly crab salad with bread and the two packets of ketchup that count as a fruit, and while waiting in line you hold a decent enough conversation with some seagull kid about potatoes and the recent lack of any kind in any of the lines. In earnesty you found his theorized reasons to be quite interesting, ranging from rumored crop failure in the north of the island, which is nothing new, and the new mainlanders trying to cut down on "bad carbs" in the lunches. Both are scarily plausible, but there's also the chance of negligence on the stocking side of things.

After exiting the sheet metal and white vinyl line space, you look over the teeming mass of students sitting in their claimed areas, Ethan and Kaylee's clique have the largest swath of territory, two entire tables occupied by the varsity football team, variety volleyball team, and their associated friends, including the yeen boy head of the chess club who's one of the rat-packs boys. After them comes the Cheerleader's and company, with an entire table under their domain, headed by Jasmine the Iguana and the Tropical Terrors, her gang of Caribbean reptiles.

After making your way towards the courtyard where you've eaten lunch you see the white, red, and orange plumage of the kissin' chickens and the orange, black, and white of Jenny. When you think about it, its quite odd how the chickens pressured both the human and the fox rather than the other way around so commonly stereotype of meek chickens and bold manfolk and vixens. Clearly that trope originated from some set of probably long dead Europeans who'd never met a fox, farmer, or been around chickens because most foxes you've met are skittish, every manfolk as stubborn as rock and as dense as a brick, and every chicken filled with more courage than a lion. Either way you stroll up to the picnic table plop your bag down with a thud and take your seat next to Mickey, as you always have, across from him is Eida and next to her, across from you is Jenny.

"Hello Tucker." Jenny says.

"What took you so long dude." Mickey remarks inquisitively

"Leaving poor Jenny out to dry." Eida says shaking her head.

"Pardon the fellow I chatted with in line had the most interesting theories on the matter of missing potatoes in our lunches, but really the line was stuffed full." You remark trying your best at faux formality

"Ah yes the missing fries, what did he have to say?" Eida asks.

"The seagull fellow blames mainlander politics and administrators." You answer with a shrug

"Makes sense" Mickey replies. "I've heard they hate starches, breads, potatoes, porridge, same with meat too." He continues.

"Really? Mainlanders don't like meat? I thought Virginians loved their pork, and that New Yorkers loved Italian food which I believe to be full of meat." Eida questions

"I think it's those mainlander bureaucrats are doing their usual thing of trying to do something to fix something in one mainlander city and ruin the rest of the country without realizing it, thinking they've done a good thing all the while, something I've seen a lot of in where my mom works." Jenny remarks, hesitation in her tone.

Eida and Mickey nod in agreement. "Yeah that would make sense" You say in agreement.

"Yeah, it's something that's really common among managers." Jenny remarks, gaining some confidence in her tone.

"Anyways, Mickey, Eida, you're just watching the Great Gatsby this afternoon in English, so do whatever you want, the Sub doesn't care." You say giving a wink to the kissin' chickens.

"ew. ew Ew EW." Jenny remarks with a finger raised at the smirking foul fowl. "And you're no better for aiding them Tucker." She says turning a condemning finger towards you.

Eida is the first to speak up. "You know you'll be as bad as we are in just a few weeks Jenny, we won't let our two favorite singles fuck it up through inexperience. Though I fear that the burden of waking you up will be on Tucker's broad shoulders, something I know you've been eying up Jenny." she teases with a grin etching where her beak meets her flesh.

Mickey leans back to stare you in the eyes. "Damn bro, Eida keeps saddling you with more and more, lets hope you get Eida from saddling to Jenny stradling."

Jenny glares at the kissin' chickens with her ears as red as apples in embarrassment. "In a few weeks I'll be done here, and if, and this is a big IF, I certainly won't be doing it during ENGLISH class." She says in a clearly miffed, though still quiet, tone.

You too are looking over the foul fowl. "Don't give me that stare Tucker." Mickey says on the cusp of giggling. "I know you have the same ideas, but you, like the rest of you humans, are able to control everything about your face except that bright red blush you wear right now." he says his smile turning to an evil grin.

The moment those words left his mouth you could feel the heat of a blush across your face. Before you can mouth protest you catch a glimpse of Jenny leaning next to Eida to get a view of you from a new angle. "At least Tucker has the decency to feel shame about it. If it were just you Mickey I'd be fine with it, you're a young man and my mom always warned me about young men's... instincts, for a lack of a better word." Jenny scolds, tailing off at the end.

Eida and Mickey share a glance in that annoying manner that hints of a conversation spoken only with their lust obsessed eyes. FUCKING HELL THAT'S ANNOYING your mind screams, something more primal bubbling out after a long day of annoyances. "Anyways, anyways." You say repeating yourself. "So, what's the talk of the day, anything interesting?" You say trying your darndest to change the topic.

Eida squawks up the news, though it's mostly gossip. Its just the usual set of rumors and whatnot; Ethan being "Bigger Than" some particularly proud members of the football team, something measuring the packages of the the different members of various teams has popped up every month or so, then there was the members of the ratpack were fighting with some of the Yeen chicks over one of their boys, the usual mockery about teachers and the usual targets. "And then there's the fuss on campus, a new rumor. I hear Natalie and you Tucker have exchanged some rather curt words with each other, and from that some are thinking that Natalie was interested in Jenny before you got your, to quote; Wretched little human hands around that wonderful Jenny's waist, I hate humans have I ever told you that? No fur, no feathers, no scales, and unreadable faces, wretched creatures, I haven't a clue why Kaylee is so intent are wedding one or why on earth Jenny would want to kiss one" Eida remarks.

Jenny shrinks back down. "You know, I have a sinking suspicion that a scaled simp uttered those words." You sign. "Failing that, I might go give a few people a lecture in human stereotypes first hand." You continue.

"Wait-Wait-Wait-Wait... Are you going to fuck them, eat them, or what?" Mickey jokes.

Eida leers at Mickey. "Teasing is good and all but we both know those aren't his kind of human. Well maybe the former, but not the latter." Eida remarks.

Ah yes, the consumption of cogito gentes practiced in bizarre parts of Africa and Asia, where the light of civilization never reached. You vaguely recall something about the Portugese selling human tribes guns and over time they sold their non-human slaves to someone, was it the French? You can't recall and the tangent died with it.

"It don't bother me none Eida, not with Mickey anyways, now if it were some Band loser, ceramics represent, I might have to give them the freshman treatment." You reply keeping a cool head. "Speaking of, I hear that I've been praised for keeping the freshoids in line, maybe I'll get a page in the year book yet." You continue.

Eida, Mickey, and Jenny all look at each other. "Yeah slang sounds so off rolling off your tongue." Mickey remarks.

Nodding Eida picks up where Mickey left off. " Yeah it sounds like my dad trying sound 'hip'"

You turn to face Jenny, who just nods.

"Ouch, but fair." You wince. "Oo'd rathe, mi spak med ii purpa Hathian toong?" You say letting your Hathian tongue take full control for a ride.

Eida just looks around. "Say Jenny, Mickey, are we out near the Dragon's Back Mountain?, because I just heard a Hathian tongue so thick we sure must be on the East coast of this island." Pointing a clawed finger at Jenny. "You know Jenny if you go the full mile with our dear Mr. Swansmith you may be living in a land where all men speak like that." Eida pokes.

Somehow that got Jenny's ears to flush redder still. "I haven't even been on a date with Tucker, much less kissed him, by the end of this-this lunch you'd have planned our wedding and the names of our children." Jenny protests.

"Don't forget the color of the trim of the house dearest." You say with a smile.

Eida is clearly holding back a laugh while Mickey clucks through the beak he's clamped shut. Jenny looks at you confused on where she should either laugh too or slap you. "Next thing you'll know Mr. "Swansmith" you'll be telling me that you've nominated Aisha for a daughter's name and Harald for a boy's name." She remarks.

"Middle Eastern and Norwegian, interesting choices, I guess you spared me quite the many hours of careful thought." You remark forcing an evil grin.

Jenny pulls back shocked and Eida and Mickey are sharing a mischievous look. "Can we eat now?" You ask, still smiling coyly.

The rest of the meal goes over smoothly, teasing you, teasing Jenny, discussing "The Great Gatsby", apparently Jenny has quite the interest in literature. Though the convoluted nature of the Great Gatsby has never particularly appealed to you and half of the conflict could be resolved with just some proper Hathian bluntness. It seems like so much would be fixed if everyone was more honest, well and Gatsby having a more honest choice of career than organized crime.

The rest of the day after lunch passes, is a string of minor frustrations, you were absolutely unable to get anywhere near Jenny. Each time either one of you tried to get any nearer than half a classroom to each other something would summon the other away. First was a teacher calling for homework, last was a bovine having severe diarrhea half-way between the two of you in such a spectacular manner that it reaffirmed your belief in hell as the poor bastard behind was getting a taste of it. Poor, poor son of a bitch.

Finally the final bell rang, and rather than making the bee-line towards your truck and home you summoned up some of the last of your patience to put a smile on your face and move to the pre-agreed meeting spot. The crosswalk by the stadium across from the donut shop. You can see Jenny about twenty yards in front of you, earbuds in, and walking with either annoyance or excitement in her step. Though it isn't proper, not for a good Hathian boy anyways, the way her hips move with the sway of her tail brings back those thoughts that you ought to be slapped for. The idea of seeing that swaying for less. Excited for something more than a date.

"Stop. You can't indulge that. Yet anyways.." You remind yourself feeling your face redden.

Part you, a part you've never really been able to pin, begins to chew at something that isn't there. Just like your late uncle supposedly chewed his dip. Clamping your own jaw shut with grip tight enough to feel the callouses press against your jawbone. As you feel the chewing tic go away you let go, trying your best to smooth your face of the feeling of the twisting knife and that of your general frustration with the day.

As Jenny reaches the cross walk she turns on her heels to face you, wearing what you can best describe as your own expression displayed on the fox woman's slim face.

Seeing you, Jenny tired her best to force a smile but seeing you do the same, she lets the false smile slip from her face. "What an awful day!" She exclaims. "At least that should be behind us now." She says with a sigh.

You take another step towards her, just enough to set a hand on her shoulder. "Full transparency, I have no idea what a Hot Breton is or where to find them." You remark before releasing her shoulder.

Jenny stares at you for a moment. "Eida was right about you." She says with a slight nod.

"What does that mean?" You ask half-heartedly.

Jenny gives you a quizzical look. "Eida says you're always committed to a plan, so much so that if you've said you'd walk to someone's house and somehow lost your legs you'd still walk on what's left, failing that, crawl and apologize for not living up to your word."

You nod remembering the time you agreed to play baseball with Mickey and showed up with a nail still in your hand from working on installing new shingles after a particularly bad storm. "I don't think I'd go that far. I think so anyway." You say hesitantly, you probably would, knowing how much work, and how many beatings, your old man gave you to teach the value of a man's word.

Jenny gives you an odd look. "For some reason I doubt that" she mutters. "So should we find a place to sit and talk or should d-go?" She says, clearly changing her intentions at the end.

"You know we can always chat over some food?" You say, prodding for a response.

A slight smile gives you the answer you need. "I'll take that as a yes." You say regaining a bit of your confidence despite the knife twisting harder than ever.

"H-how. Yes!" Jenny stammers excitedly.

Offer an arm in the old manner, just a slight bending of the elbow and rotating the arm so your palm is flush with your back, but you're not sure if Jenny notices the gesture before she turns to face the parking lot. It isn't exactly common outside the rough lands of Eastern Hathia. "Your truck was green, right?" Still looking over the lot. You can clearly see your truck, shimmering teal over a cracked out prius.

"Yes, follow me." You say waving a hand sign forward something Jenny seems oddly receptive to.

Jenny just follows you, no conversation over the maybe 100 yard stretch between the crosswalk and your car. You get the door for her and she hops up into the truck's cabin while you hustle over to the other side. Letting Jenny in first, aside from being polite, cuts the oven-hot air release when you open your own door. Just getting in the car after a day in the hot Hathian sun was enough to make you sweat like a pig. Without a moment's delay you slam the key into the ignition, and just as another oven blast comes from the A/C vents you start cranking on the window like heaven itself is on the other side. Looking over you can see Jenny fumbling with the crank, on instinct you reach over and just put your whole body into turning the stubborn crank. Three full turns, and three times brushing against something on Jenny you've forced the whole damn window down. You really ought to take the panel off sometime and fix or clean what's underneath.

"There yous go Jenny, pardon for the delay." You say before checking your mirrors.

As you turn your head to check the rear-view you can see Jenny's ears bright red and her hands seemingly raising her breasts up between locked arms. "You good Jenny?" You ask.

"You do realize you just pressed your entire body into my... chest" She stammers with a moment of hesitation.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" You ask, perhaps a bit too much concern slipping in in your haste.

"No, not at all." Jenny says, sticking out her tongue. Though you hear "though that was quite the odd feeling" just above a whisper as you drive out of the parking lot.

As you pull up towards the light at the end of the parking lot you turn to Jenny once more. "So, right or left? You're gonna be my navigator." You say.

Jenny just stares for a moment. "Left. left. Yeah left." She says distantly.

She hesitates a few more times at a few more turns, but each delay is less until she's giving you the turn well before its time to make it, and soon the strange distance in her voice begins to fade. Soon you've forced your way through the downtown of the state capitol only throwing a few hateful words at other drivers and tourists, a little louder than you've liked. Though to say Jenny was the only one with any issue would be a lie, city driving always made your blood boil. Eventually though the downtown gives way to the resort-y part of the beaches and then down past the condos where rich old people and mainlanders say, just passing it was enough to make you sneer. Finally it gives way to the marshy-beach before the ones used by the locals and there you're told to turn into the El Cid Boardwalk's parking lot.

"You know, my family always goes to Davidson's Inlet, way south of here." You remark. "So I guess you'll have to guide me by the hand to wherever these 'Hot Bretons' are at." Giving a wink to finish if off.

Jenny flusters, an endearing smile creeping across her muzzle and her ears flash red. "I could do that blindfolded Mr. Swansmith."

In a moment of pride your curiosity seems to take you like a big dog taking off with a small kid on the other end of the leash. "You know I don't think I ever caught your last name?" You ask.

"Its Huet, well it's a little longer than that being Huet-DeBois, but Huet just works better." She remarks, still flustered.

"Sorry, odd question." You remark.

"It's fine." She says

An awkward silence hangs inside the truck's cabin for either a minute or five, it all doesn't matter. The longer it goes on the more the knife just above your stomach twists. Slowly as you can't decide which is worse, breaking the silence or sitting and suffering, the knife continues to twist until a sweat breaks just above your brow despite the AC roaring now. Finally a choice is made, and its the one that stops the knife.

"So you gonna show me to the place or are we gonna sit here forever." You say, your voice unsteady as the knife seems to release as you finally decide to speak.

Jenny nods fervently. "Words are hard for you too?" You ask. She nods again with equal fervor.

You step out of the car and walk on the gravel to offer Jenny a hand out of the truck, the lift being just enough to be uncomfortable for most womenfolk. You take a bit of joy just holding Jenny's hand for a moment, how soft it is against your large calloused hands. Her paw pads seem to cushion against the callouses. The look on Jenny's face is almost shock as she takes your hand.

"Do you need some lotion Tucker? Your hands feel like rough leather." She asks with concern clear in her voice.

"That's just my hands, using them like I do tends to do that." You say you're tempted to run a finger along one of the many scars that score your hands and arms.

Jenny seems to take a noticeable look about your hands, either that or your groin but that seems out of character. "How'd you get all those scars?" She asks before realizing what she said.

"Work." You say flatly.

Jenny doesn't pull away from your hand, rather she tries to fit her fingers between yours, you realize you've been keeping your fingers tightly clamped shut. It strains you mentally to force your fingers apart. You try to shimmy your fingers to let her fingers naturally find their way between the softening cracks in your hands. She whispers something, something clearly not meant for your ears. That being said, you swear you heard "Eida's advice" somewhere in the jamble.

"So, where to?" You ask, letting the knife in your chest release some more of its twisting pain.

"Oh follow me" she says, beginning to walk toward the pier.

You let yourself get towed along by the fox and get a nice view of her excitedly swaying tail, the subtle bounce of her butt with each overstretched step. It's a lovely view, and part of you wants to take her tail and wear it like a scarf, among other thoughts you try your best to suppress. However, there aren't any words between the two of you, her ears are bright red and your face is hot enough to temper iron on.

For once Jenny breaks the silence. "Tucker, do you happen to be allergic to shellfish?" she asks timidly, still not facing you.

"Not at all, why?" You ask.

"Hot Bretons have deep fried shrimp." She answers a bit too hastily. "Actually, can we not eat right now, I'm t-too nervous." She stammers, turing to face you seemingly on the verge of panic.

"Ye-Yea-Yeah." You say searching for a bench. Finding one "Here, we can go sit on that bench, because to be honest I've felt like there's a knife in my chest." You admit.

Some of the panic leaves her face, her nose twitches less and her ears seem to lose some of their rigidity. She lets out a long staggered breath and grips your hand tighter. You lead her by the hand to the bench, letting her sit down first. She doesn't look on the edge of tears but totally stressed out.

"Stressed? Did Eida get to you?" You ask.

"Yes." She almost cries. "She constantly bothers me about what I'm into, and ever since this morning she won't leave me alone about sex stuff."

You nod, while Eida had bothered you about "getting laid to get laid back you bundle of nerves" it was mainly Mickey giving you advice over the past three years about "so you need to bite right where the down meets the short feathers and give her tailfeathers a yank if you want to make her cluck" among various other avian-centric sex advice. "Mickey gives me the same load, does Eida tell you what part of the shoulder you should "peck at" or how and which tailfeathers to grab?" You ask, trying to comfort her behind a smile that tries your best to hide your pain.

"How do you do it, Tucker?" She pleads softly.

"Do what?" You ask.

"Remain so level." She pleads her grip tightening on your hand.

"I just tell myself it can't hurt me worse than some scar I already have." You answer. "If I'm stressed about a test I run my finger along a scar I got from being stupid and it just feels better. I don't really know why but it does." You explain.

Jenny turns up to look at you. Without thinking you move your free hand to finger a while hole where you bored a hole into your forearm. "See, feel where something hurt, and it makes other feelings seem trivial."

Jenny nods slowly, her eyes transfixed on one of the scars on your arm. "So how'd you get that one" she says, pointing at a short fat scar.

"I got it falling on some rocks out in the mountains." You say. To your surprise she runs her finger along it.

"Did it hurt?" She asks, her eyes still fixated on the small scar.

"Yeah, it hurt, worse was pouring the peroxide on it, but not near as bad as others." You say.

"What about this one?" She says pointing at another, a smaller burn mark.

"Hot soldering iron fell from my workbench when I was looking for more solder in the cabinet beneath it. Just wasn't being as careful as I should." You answer before she runs her finger around the small circular scar.

"You know you're right, this does make other feelings seem less." She remarks.

Perhaps a half hour passes of her pointing out the myriad of small scars on your arm and asking you got them. Though the conversation over time turns, from scars to life. "So when did you start helping out in your Dad's shop Tucker?" Jenny asks excitedly.

"I think I was six when I started sweeping the shop floor, but at nine is when I got to use real tools there." You answer. "Speaking of jobs, have you ever worked anywhere?" You say turning her question back on her.

"I volunteer at the library my grandma works at, my parents pay me for it since they need help there but don't have the budget to hire anyone new. So I'm there most nights sorting books and whatnot, in the summer I help run the summer learning program." She continues.

"You work at a library? I thought you wanted to be a scientist of a sort?" You ask.

"I just want-I want to make the world a better place, you know that sorta childish, but I've always loved knowledge, figured no better way than find new stuff." She answers, her voice softening, and the hands she has on your right arm tighten on your hand a wrist. "You don't think it's stupid? Right?" She asks.

"I find grand ambition admirable, but I find such ambitions beyond me. I've never even left the island, so all I want to do is become part of it. A tree can only take root once ya know?" You remark.

"You've never left the island?" Jenny says looking up, shock clear on her face.

"What? Does your family travel a lot?" You ask.

"Yes." She says as if you just said the sky was blue.

"So where have you traveled Ms. Huet" You ask.

"France, Spain, Italy, Belgium, California, Louisiana, Florida, and Rhode Island, to name the ones I liked most." Jenny boasts.

"And I've seen every inch of this here island. You could blindfold me and I could drive through Dragon's Ridge blindfolded in a blizzard." You boast.

"Well, I think you should at least see somewhere else, maybe Morocco, they really like Hathians there." She explains.

You give her a measuring look. "Jeez louise it's a first date and you're already planning honeymoons." You tease.

Jenny's nose twitches and her ears flush. "Now you too?" She says pressing a finger into your chest. "You, Eida, and Mickey are all teases like no other." She pouts.

"What, you're making travel plans-" You say slyly.

"-The only travel I'm planning is you and me to Boudraux's on this pier." Jenny forces in.

'Lead the way Madame Huet." You say with a wink.

Oddly, Jenny smiles, mutter something. "Alright Mister Swansmith, but first, I need to pay you back for earlier this week." She demands.

"No can do darling. Either I pay today, or you consider earlier this week a date." You say returning a smile, putting a firmness in your tone.

"Darling? What is this Darling in the Franks?" Jenny laughs.

What the fuck is a "Darling in the Franks" is the only think that runs through your mind. "Have haven't a clue what the Franks have to do with anything-" You say before being cut off again.

"F-R-A-N-X-X. It's an anime Tucker." Jenny cuts in.

"Well what's it about?" You ask.

"I'll tell you over a sandwich." Jenny says her nose twitching at the question.

"Lead the way, I don't know where it is." You say rising from the bench, Jenny's hand still wrapped up in yours.

Jenny pulls herself up using you as an aid. "I guess you've gotten hungry, I hear from everyone that men think with three heads." She jokes.

"The heads, and the stomach." You say.

"Heads?" Jenny asks.

You blink. "You know, I'd rather not sully the mood with that answer."

Jenny just gives you a playful scowl. "I'll weasel it out of you, just you wait." She teases.

"That's awfully forward of you." You respond in an equally teasing manner.

"What?" She asks.

"Nevermind." You say. "Show me there or you can lead me by the hand you're holding so tightly too."

Jenny flushes brighter than ever but doesn't let go. She opens her jaw a little as if to speak, her long canines showing but clamps it shut as fast as a mousetrap. With a near snarl she moves quickly down the pier before you can move to match and when she reaches the end of your connected arms she nearly whips back like an underpowered truck failing to rip a stump from the ground. You rush forward to steady her, placing a hand on her back and lifting her back up.

Jenny looks up at you with awe and frustration. "Smooth, or slow?" Jenny asks.

"Yes" You respond with your face feeling as if your blood had been replaced with molten bronze.

This time she gives two tugs to your arm before starting off, giving your horrible lower body reflexes ample warning.

Boudreaux's Subs and Seafood was the building you had just sat against, much to your embarrassment and Jenny's. Jenny's swaying tail straightens and she turns to you.

You give a toothy smile. "You know they always say that people get most nervous right at the end of something, the moments before an exam, or final question, graduation too I guess. Nothing to be ashamed of, I think anyway." You say, trying your best to give you grandfather's sagely advice.

"Did you just change Kassem Al-Mohammed's speech?" Jenny laughs.

"Maybe? It's just some advice my grandpa gives." You answer truthfully.

"Well your grandpa must've been familiar with the Tax Trouble." Jenny jokes.

"I'd rather not talk about the Shaking of the Mountains." You answer, speaking the local name rather than the one in the history books.

Jenny gives you a wide eyed look. "Shaking of the Mountains, sounds like a spell." Jenny says.

Facing the door in Boudreaux's after maybe ten paces you pull at the door only to see a push sign. "Norman Doors" you gripe aloud.

"Wait, they're really called that?" Jenny asks.

"Yes." You answer

"Named for the Normans, or someone named Norman." Jenny asks.

"I have no idea." You answer.

Jenny gets a frustrated look on her face but you open the door before she can reach for her phone. "Since I helped yoos order at Jersey Mikes, maybe yoos can help me order here." You say

"Bien sûr, je peux commander pour vous" She says in french, though what dialect is far beyond you.

"Non hobo ideam quad iusti dick-runt" You say in broken latin.

"Dick runt?" Jenny laughs. "I hope that's not the case, though what qualifies as a runt with real people?" She mumbles beneath her breath.

And the knife twists with words not meant for you. Will you live up to Eida's expectations? Well you know you measure up, at least you think so, and its not like Jenny has any metrics. You take a deep breath. Why the hell are you thinking with your second head? With that thought the usual calmness within returns, aside from the knife.

"I couldn't tell you where I stand, and I don't think you can tell me either." You remark, oddly defensive.

"Huh-Wait you could hear me?" Jenny says her nose is starting to twitch and ears take color.

"Of course I can, I'm a human not deaf." You say cutting your turskness with attempted joviality.

Jenny looks nearly mortified, but forces a smile anyways. "Je suppose que je vais devoir parler dans une autre langue" She whispers.

You can feel your face twist in a frown as you see a truly titanic gatorman walk out of the kitchen, his belly swells like any chef's, and his tail alone is probably larger and heavier than you. His lipless mouth has three golden temporary teeth in it, something common on Hathia for crocodilians for when they periodically lose their teeth. You can feel your heart race, fingers tighten, and the knife twist harder than ever before. It's a fear of something far deeper than the mind, its the sort of fear you can feel in your bones.

Though before it can really take root a deep cajun tongue fills the room, like a thunderstorm rolling through a canyon. "Bonjour Jenny. Comment est ma jeune fille renard préférée." He takes a look at you, his golden eyes the size of tennis balls weighing you for a moment. "Un homme. Non. Un prétendant. Du sang local, une sorte têtue, de bonnes mains et les yeux d'un cygne et d'un forgeron." Bellows the towering scaly mass.

Jenny laughs, and the two talk between each other in French for a bit. Suddenly the big Gator fellow waves a clawed finger towards you. "Come, come to Boudraux, I promise I do not bite men of local blood." He laughs like an earthquake.

You approach the towering gator, he must be at least ten feet tall, if not twelve, easily the largest sentient you've ever seen, and his golden eyes twinkle in excitement. "So young Hathian, what is your name?" He whispers in a voice that sounds like an uneven washer spinning in french.

"Tucker, Tucker Swansmith Mr. Boudreaux." You answer, trying your best to sound cordial and composed.

The Gator grins somehow. "Good blood, better family, I worried when I saw Jeanne with a man, but I know your father, and your grandfather, I have heard good thing about you, a true son of the mountains." He rumbles contently, though not before letting show an old pendant common of the eastern swamps. "Though wrong her, and you won't be able to leave the mountains, young Swansmith." He says leaning down to rumble the last bit just above your ear.

"Sooth your mind man of Kalis, for were I to wrong a woman the dragon shall shred me on their back before the sun would rise next." You say reciting the old lines with the old regions.

"It has been too long since I have heard the true name of home, too many simply call it a swamp these days." He says, still like a rattling cajun washing machine.

Not a Cajun, a Buccaneer in your tongue. Old blood lives in Kalis, and it would seem Mr. Boudreaux is of it. "Mr. Boudreaux, must I order food for the two of us in French?" You ask.

The Kalis Buccaneer rises and shakes his head suddenly. "Of course not! I know what Jenny wants, but you?" The thundering voice laughs.

"I'll have the same as her." You answer, taking a ten and a twenty from your wallet and putting it into the massive scaled hand of the gator-man.

The massive gator looks down at the bills in his hand. "This is two dollars too much young Swansmith." He rumbles.

"Take it as a friend to a friend, a son of Kalis-" You say before he cuts you off

"-is a friend of Dragon's Ridge" The monstrous gator laughs. "Keep talking like that and I will think I am young again." He finishes putting the comparatively tiny bills into what seems like a massive leather binder. "Take a seat, any, I'll have Albin bring you some drinks in a moment."

Grandpa was definitely more connected to the lands than you thought, is the first conclusion you make, though everyone outside of the capital was in some way but Jenny was far more important at the moment. Returning to Jenny she stares at you with an impressed look.

"I have not seen anyone make Boudreaux relax like that in forever." She beams, her orange tail swaying one again, her body language relieved and excited. You use the moment to give her a good looking over once again, her hips just draw your eyes this time, how they seem to stick out from an otherwise so slim frame.

Turning back you see the titanic form turn, moving his bulk and showing his back. Twenty four red badges, though white on reptiles as they were. "He knows my folks, and our peoples are as friends." You say your East Hathain accent almost comes to full with each word.

Jenny practically pulls you towards a small booth. "You paid didn't you?" She whispers.

You nod slowly.

"Bon sang Tucker." She mutters. "You may have paid, but I will make it even." She says frustration clearly on her face.

You've got the perfect decision but the knife twists at the thought. "Well, I'd like a kiss at the end of this." You say trying your best sly smile.

You can feel Jenny kick your shin underneath the table, though in a more teasing manner than anything else. "Tucker, you have no proper sense." She says.

Not a rejection. "So, you mentioned something called 'Darling in the Franxx'?" You say, taking the rudder of the conversation.

That sends Jenny into quite the detailed explanation. "So it starts off with this group of post-apocalyptic survivors, and they're paired in groups of boys and girls and then there's a new girl who shows up." She gives you a plot synopsis, so it's a massive allegory for sex and relationships, the entire affair lasts at least twenty minutes. Somewhere along the way the robot-dinosaurs are replaced with intergalactic aliens.

Another, far smaller gator, Ablin, brought out two cokes, yours with peanuts at the bottom. "Tastes like home" You remark on sipping on the sweet and salty beverage.

Jenny is visibly taken aback by that, ending her explanation of how the pink haired chick turning into a rabbit is important to the plot. "I'm sorry what?"

"The Peanuts and Coke, the balance is perfect." You explain.

"Peanuts and Coke?" She says in amazement.

"It's for menfolk, womenfolk usually just add fruit to theirs." You explain.

"Wait what?" Jenny says. "Every new word is just as confusing."

"What part confuses you?" You press.

"Firstly, why did you have peanuts in your coke? Secondly, why do women put fruit in theirs." She presses.

"Because it tastes good, and because it tastes good." You answer.

"What other kinds of stuff do you put in your drinks?" She asks expectantly.

"Men put peanuts, syrups, and sometimes cherries in their cokes, women put syrups and all sorts of fruit in theirs, also vanilla." You answer.

"Fascinating. Can I try?" She asks.

"Sure." You say pushing the cup towards her side of the booth. "And with it discover civilization."

Jenny takes a long sip, staring at you with her large green eyes the whole time. She sets your cup down, looking at it questioningly. "I'm not sure I like that." She says still puzzled. "Its sweet, its salty, it's so odd."

You look toward the counter, Ablin standing by the register on his phone. You take a moment to give the restaurant a good look over, the ceilings are very high, perhaps twenty feet from floor to ceiling, and about twenty yards lengthwise and maybe ten widthwise though probably closer to nine. It's covered in Buccaneer and other East Hathian paraphernalia, a whole stuffed American Alligator resting along a dividing half-wall. Aside from the wooden interior, there are obligatory Hathain seaside decor, andalusian nets, french sabers, rebel guns, and a fragment of some sunken ship, be it union, spanish, german, or japanese. Other than that it's bright with three of the four walls being mostly windows, the last going back into the kitchen. The smell of deep fried food and heavy spice lingers in the air, but a faint fruitiness also hangs air with it. The more you think about it smells like Henry's Crab Bucket halfway between here and the mountains, though the fruit smell there is far more pronounced.

Jenny raises a hand up and Albin looks to her. "Albin, do you have any cherries or coke syrup?" She asks respectfully.

"Wie, We have cherry syrup, blackberry syrup, and strawberry syrup, though we also have lemon juice too, we'll have more syrups in two weeks for tourist season." The young gatorman says.

"Can I have some cherry syrup?" Jenny asks.

He shrugs. "Finish your current stuff and I'll make it proper when I come with the food." He says going back to his phone.

Jenny begins to practically interrogate you about what else you put in your coke and other sodas. It gets to a point where you just start listing cocktails. Honestly it is kinda fun how she's able to press you for knowledge you didn't even know you'd have. Before you know it you're leaning over the table pressuring her about which of Hathia's Western Mediterranean partners provide the best paints for her uses. You've finished your coke without realizing it, and Jenny seems at a loss when she finishes hers.

Out from the kitchen Boudreaux himself has two sandwiches and a mountain of mixed onion rings and fries, it smells of cajun spice and shrimp. "Ees ya go" He rumbles like rolling thunder.

Albin swoops in behind him snatching your cups. "I'ves gotcha." He rumbles in a much higher pitch than the man that stands nearly twice as tall as him.

Moments later Jenny gets a tall glass of red-tinted coke, and you have another round of peanuts and coke. The onion rings are thin cut and beer battered, and the fries a shoestring, the ketchup is spiced, and a Hot Breton itself is filled with what seems to be the boiled and fried onions with a rich flavor, the crisp vegetables add a nice bit of refreshment and the spicy deep fried shrimp with a thin coat of tartar sauce makes for a perfect meal. While you're tempted to feast like a pig from the trough you make an effort to eat with proper manners.

"So Tucker, do you watch any anime?" She asks between fries.

"No? Should I?" You ask.

"I mean, I think its fun." She says. "Maybe we could watch it together sometime!" She beams

"Sure, your place or mine?" You ask.

Jenny's ears redden in realization. "Did I just ask for a second date?" She asks.

"If you want to call it that." You say.

The two of you continue to eat, and the conversation steers to fiction. At long last Jenny takes the rudder of the conversation and begins to steer it to anime. Between bites or sips, you try to ask questions or make statements that show a legitimate interest. She rambles for a bit about some anime called "Pure White Lover: Bizarre Jelly" and it seems like an acid trip.

"That sounds interesting, maybe that'd make a good show to watch." You say without thinking.

"Really? I've been thinking about watching it for a while." She says excitedly.

"Sounds like a plan." You respond.

"Wonderful!" She exclaims.

You turn to the counter and Boudreaux gives you a wink. Oddly the knife seems to gradually release after you stumbled through planning a second date. The more it releases it seems to fill the knot of pain with exhaustion. Jenny's voice is so pleasant despite sometimes you have no idea what on earth she's talking about. Like, what the hell is a manga? Or the difference between fine ground to coarse ground pigment.

"Actually if Pure White Lover isn't any good you want to watch Bareskin Beastman?" She says

"Sure." You say. "The show isn't really what matters, it's the company."

Jenny flushes. "aww, you're too nice." She whispers.

You fill with confidence, watching Jenny fluster. You take a deep drink and bathe in the sight of a flustered Jenny. Needing to restart the conversation you bring up one of the first things that got the fox's attention. "So how's the proper cherry cola?" You ask

"My cherry, what?" Jenny stammers her blush making it through the orange fur the for the first time.

"Cherry. Coke. How is it?" You say, feeling your face burn.

"Oh its- I like- Its-I think it's really nice!" She stammers, her tail now swatting like a ceiling duster against the booth chairs.

She nibbles at her food with her right hand so you decide to take her left with your right. Her blush deepens, reaching the beginning of the white on her neck. Now you get why she's rambling so much, she's nervous. "You don't have to be so spun up Jenny, take a deep breath, ask me a question and I'll answer it in full." You say.

Jenny freezes up for a moment more. "You never gave me a straight answer about dealing with anxiety. You make that stuff about scars up, but I don't think that works." She asks.

"In earnest I try to find the source of it and resolve it, anxiety is always related to a problem, the fastest way to get rid of it is to fix the damn problem." You explain.

"And what if you don't know what the problem is?" Jenny asks.

"Sit, think, and reason it out, if it isn't reasonable it needs an equally irrational response. If you have a test you're nervous about and no matter how much you study you just get more nervous, you need to take a step back and relax. If you're nervous about meeting someone or trying something new I've always found the best thing is to do it as fast as possible." You elaborate.

"So if I were afraid of, say, I don't know, go to someone's house and I had a date and time set for it, and I can't change it, what should I do? In your line of thinking anyways." She asks

"Prepare best I could, then try my best to relax until it's time." You say.

Jenny weighs your words. "And would you go about relaxing?" She asks

"You want honesty or proper words?" You ask, giving her a level look.

"Honesty." She says tentatively with an odd look at you.

"Masterbate. A lot." You say your face heating again from the overt honesty.

Jenny just stares at you for a moment, her eyes wide.. "Anything else?" She asks hesitantly, studying you intently with her emerald eyes.

"If that doesn't work I work myself to the bone so I can sleep, but that's so it isn't a problem while I sleep, not because it makes it go away for a moment. A little self destructive, I am aware, but I don't have the right answers, just the ones that work for me." You answer, a tad more complete than you'd like. You blame Jenny's lovely eyes and aura that just draws the words out of you. Recalling all the times you were stressed to the bone,

"I thought you couldn't feel anxiety Tucker, like for the longest time just looking at you in class you just seemed to get tired of frustrated at the tension of the times." She says with a smile.

"No, I just think showing it is a weakness." You respond flatly. "It's not a very manly thing to do." You finish.

"And what of it in women?" She asks as if a bit annoyed.

"They're women, the rules are different. Women can show more emotion, just the way it is." You continue unphased as you half-recite your grandpa's views on the world.

Jenny looks like she wants to protest that but seems to let it go. "Démodé" she mutters angrily. "So is there something men are allowed to show that women aren't in your view of the world?" She asks.

"Men can swear more, and on occasion to children, women are never to swear in front of children." You say.

"How many little rules govern your life?" Jenny asks in astonishment.

"No idea, you learn through osmosis, and for every custom you can name, you follow a dozen more." You boast.

Jenny nods. "I can agree with that, though I don't have to like it." She remarks. "You're too old fashioned." She complains.

"Old fashioned? This is the way things have worked forever on this Island, it's not old, it just is..." You say training off.

"So you're saying the Hathain way is the same as New Yorker's and Baseball or Texans and Football?" Jenny asks as if knowing the answer.

You nod. "You know among the francophone communities on this here island, I've always been told how backwards you lot are in the East. Almost like savages, a sort who's women are bolder than the men in some sense." Jenny teases.

"Have you ever heard a woman go up to her man and ask him in front of his friends to follow to the bedroom? Or a woman taking a man by the ear and dragging him to a date he didn't know he had?" You ask. "I've seen it, you know Mickey didn't ask Eida out? Or that Kaylee took Ethan by the ear and mounted him?"

Jenny flashes redder than a beet. "I-I-I did not." She stammers.

"Well Jenny, if you want to take me by the ear I'd let ya, it wouldn't be proper to tell you no." You tease harder.

Jenny just looks you dead in the eye. "Wait a man can't say no?" She gasps

"Not without a damn good reason, at least in that manner, like, if a woman says jump, you ask why, if she says "kiss me" and is single, you'd need a reason." You explain.

"J-Ju-Just h-hypothetically, if I were to ask you to kiss me, right now, would you?" She stammers.

"Well I'd ask if I could have a mint first." You answer.

Without warning Jenny leaps back into her food. You follow, trying to keep pace with her speed, which is in earnest a far slower pace than normal for you. Eventually a conversation on graduation and plans for the future. She's still surprised you have no desire beyond managing and growing the family business. You still find it odd that someone hasn't figured out what career they want at your age. The new conversation flies past as the more serious with far less playfulness. Her views on life are optimistic, though her anxiety constantly seems to cripple her at the times where just a tad more confidence would have a thousand miles from a table with you. She seems to think you're thinking too small, though she doesn't dislike the idea of a family business.

After the food is gone, and probably the sixth refill of drinks, Ablin brings the pair of you a mints, custom and local from a candy maker on the boardwalk, at least that's what the smaller gator says. You take Jenny's hand and Boudeaux gives you a wink and a thumbs up as you leave. You take out your phone for the first time in a while, it's five minutes until eight, and the sun is starting to set.

With Jenny's hand in yours you walk down to the end of the boardwalk, overlooking the Bay of Hathia. The pair of you lean onto the railings, staring out across the water as the setting sun has it glimmering like a sea of gold and fire. You look at Jenny, her emerald green eyes still nervous, though it may be her twitching nose.

"This is so cliche" You remark, still looking at Jenny.

"True." She remarks.

A moment of silence passes before you feel her hand tighten around yours. "Hey Tucker, would you take your mint?" She asks.

With your spare left hand, you unwrap the mint and begin to slowly suck at the small candy. The two of you just look over the sunset until it just sits uncomfortably right in your eyes. The two of you stroll back down the boardwalk hand in hand. By the time you get to the end the sun has fully set. The two of you arrive back at your truck.

You turn to Jenny. "You know, this evening was wonderful, I can't say I've ever spoken to someone continuously for five hours." You joke.

You try to let go of her hand to go to your side of the truck. "Me too..." Jenny says trailing off.

You turn to face Jenny, she's flushed red and she's playing with her tail in her free hand.

"T-Tucker I-I-I-I n-need to a-ask y-you to a-ask-" She stammers before you finish her sentence for her.

"To k-kiss you?" You say, letting the anxiety get the better part of your tongue.

She nods.

In that moment the knife twists as hard as it ever had, twice over. Your mind begins to race as you try to figure out how in the seven hells and mercy of the mountains you, a human, are supposed to kiss a fox muzzle. Your body moves as your mind whirrs like a 90s hard drive. Do you take her chin? Are you supposed to kiss the front? The sides? Oh fuck.

Without need from the mind, the body figures it out for you. You wrap your arms around Jenny's waist feeling the soft fur that creeps out between her shirt and pants. You take her chin, looking into her emerald green eyes, filled with uncertainty but also desire. You lean down, and press your lips against her black, soft lips.

You close your eyes, and pull her closer still, letting the long kiss grow tighter. You remember that some people like some tongue in a kiss. You try to slip your tongue inside her muzzle and feel her shoot into yours. Her long canine tongue practically laps at your uvula, and you start gagging. Your eyes shoot open and press Jenny back. Jenny stares back at you with eyes that immediately look on the brink of tears.

You have to say something quick. "I have idea how you're supposed to kiss a girl and whatnot, nor how foxes kiss each other." You say.

"Was it too much?" She pleads tears beginning in her eyes.

"Less tongue or I'll feed you like a bird because of human anatomy" you force out before diving into your second kiss.

Jenny's eyes widen, and the tears go. You stand there for a while, kissing underneath a streetlight in the dark. For what could have been hours you stand there holding onto each other. Eventually she pulls away.

"My curfew is ten thirty." She says solemnly, her head sinking into your chest.

You check your phone and it's almost nine fifteen. "Oh. Shit. We need to leave now or I won't have you home until a quarter after one." You say frantically, practically jumping over the hood and leaping into the driver's seat.

The moment you're strapped and think Jenny is, you screech out of the parking lot and into the night. The driving is hellish through the capital, it's a friday night and about a third of the entire state's population is coming out from the suburbs and towns and into the city. You feel the hairs go up on your neck like a mastiff seeing a coyote. Wherever you can you speed like a demon, roaring through thirty-five zones pushing eighty, zipping through forties nearing ninety. It's a miracle nobody pulls you over. At ten past ten you finally make it back to the neck of suburbia where Eridu Gardens is.

"Are you okay?" Jenny asks as you turn into her maze of a neighborhood.

"I can not stand city driving." You say, still shaking with frustration and stress.

She just nods. "So when are you coming to my house to watch anime." She asks

You look at her. "Does next Saturday work? I'm busy this weekend with work." You ask.

"What time?" She asks.

"I'm good from eight in the morning till as late as you'd like." You answer, looking for the right address.

"Alright, just come by when you can then." She beams.

You nod, rolling up to her house. You can see her father on their porch, clearly looking at you while you can only make out that he too, is a fox. Jenny looks to where her father sits, takes your head and gives you a kiss instead of a goodbye and jumping out the car before you can respond. You then back out, and drive home.

You park in the street, and enter through the backdoor, where your Dad and Mom are waiting expectantly. Well stepmom technically but she may as well be. Your father is sitting in his chair at the breakfast table, grey streaking his brown hair and beard, his look is expectant, though not pleased. To his right is your mom, a fox woman younger than your father, her orange coat is beginning to grey around the nose and ears.

Your father speaks first. "So Tucker, where were you tonight?" Your dad asks expectantly.

"I was on a date." You in haste.

"With who?" Mom asks.

"Jenny Huet." You answer just as hastily.

Your mother grins and your father stares in astonishment. "Told ya he'd take after his daddy." She laughs.

"Dammit" says your dad as he hands a twenty to your mom. "You just had to go and date a vixen? Who even introduced you to a New Caen girl?" You dad asks, the tenseness in the room gone.

"Eida matched us, Kaylee and Ethan approved of it, and so we were set up on a date." You explain.

Your dad nods contently with the explanation. "You know what champ? Tell me the full story tomorrow over breakfast. Right now, go to bed." He says giving you a pat on the back as you pass him to the stairwell.