DYER - The Durban Wolves [discontinued - pending V2, someday, maybe]

.:5:. Paws

Divan had to admit that the new sensations of different textures of floor underneath his still-soft paw-pads alien. He was, for the hundredth time, sure as he stepped off of the smooth tiled floor of his room onto the rough carpet of the corridor, that if he had to walk to far on a surface like this, much like a young puppy, his feet would begin to bleed. He made a mental note to be gentle breaking in his new feet to build up the rough callouses he knew would replace shoes forever.

Being home again felt unnatural after so long. The first night in his own bed, and he couldn't bring himself to sleep. It was only somewhere around four in the morning that he realized that part of that could have been attributed to the fact that it was a brand new mattress - since the day he arrived in Durban, he had only ever slept on it around eleven times, and that was forever ago.

A year is both nothing and an eternity. Divan sighed as he padded silently to the kitchen to make some coffee. It wasn't that he was trying to be quiet. It was just that when he was on surfaces like dirt, grass, or fabric of any description, the dog-like claws he had gotten used to dug into the ground in a way that made them resound in a high-pitched clacking on harder surfaces with each step. The small surface area of his feet that touched the ground ensured total silence otherwise.

As he stirred his coffee, the tinkling sound of the stainless steel teaspoon against the interior of his mug, Divan took a steeling breath. Somehow, the distantly familiar chime brought a temporary, nostalgic peace to his rapidly vanishing sense of resolve.

Today, before any issues of note could be addressed by anyone, there was a big problem that fell on Divan's shoulders to solve.

Trousers.

Despite being totally covered in fur, the idea of running around town in naught but your natural coat like a Feral or a normal beast had never been an option. Certain things had adapted their shapes to fit canine standards, but by the whiskers on his lip Divan was not going to be the one to let humanity know exactly what changed and what had not.

The hospital scrubs that Elizabeth had supplied for everyone once the rehabilitation process began had had roughly cut tail-holes pried out of the trousers with scissors, but if dignity or sanity were to be preserved in future, proper measures would need to be taken with immediate effect.

Not knowing of any tailors in the area due to their total lack of local input, Divan had resorted to the final frontier of outfitters for assistance: cosplayers.

Divan scoured the internet to find anyone, anyone at all who had the experience of sewing clothing for the previous generation of Furries. These, Divan realised after searching for 'anthro wolf fashion' in a last ditch attempt to find someone who was used to a tail, were a human group that dressed up in animal suits for the fun of it, though the more extreme ones had more personal reasons as though it gave them the right to believe they were at all anything other than human. However, he quickly lost hope in the Furry fandom as the fursuiting type usually didn't have clothing covering their suits, and those that only did partial suits strapped their false tails to their belts.

The kemonomimi or 'animal ear' faction of the anime fandom bore the same results, though, the unusual clothing designs did catch Divan's attention for a long time. He'd never gotten into the anime genre, so looking through pictures on the internet he quickly got a sense for what he thought would work for his tastes and he soon found himself reaching for a paper to make a few sketches.

He stopped himself the moment he made that realization.

The hell...!? When did I get so into this?! Divan thought, appalled at himself that he had been so engrossed that he was firstly about to design an outfit. Good grief, if any of his teammates on the rugby squad had to see him do that he would never hear the end of it.