Furry High (furry 'coming of age' story) R18+

14

Adrian's eyes slowly creaked open... crackling, old, tired... he almost had to peel them open from how much sleep had solidified against his eyelids.

He had done many things since he had joined the world again. He had seen kingdoms of dragons and superheroes melting like ice on a summers day. He had done back-flips in the warm void of space without so much as a sound... life was good... he had woken up a hero of his own little universe.

The sheepdog chuckled, his voice deeper than it ever had been...

He tried to stand up, and barely succeeded. His arms were shaky and frail, his body felt skinnier and his head felt lighter. A balloon full of expired helium tied to his shoulders.

He stumbled through the dark barn, smiling stupidly, to Ren's bedroom - which was another closed off section of the barn, except there were actual walls this time.

Aw... when he went inside, he saw them both sleeping.
A sheepdog and a leopard cuddled together, snoozing like a rejected phone-alarm...
They were both naked by the looks of it, sheets pulled up to Vicky's chest to hide the fun parts of her.
Ren was lying completely on top of the dusty duvet... curled into a naked ball of black and white as he cuddled around his girlfriend...
Protective and sweet, like Ren always has been... but god, that boy was just fur and bones. A curled pencil of a sheep-dog, truly.

"Heyy." Adrian giggled at the doorway, knocking on the wall lightly with his fist.

Ren turned his head and peered at him sleepily... before his eyes darted open and he covered his groin.
"Holy shit." He breathed; his words occupied with a typical morning voice-crack.

Vicky woke up too, and unlike Ren she smiled when she saw him standing there. She had always wanted a family... and after she had met Ren she always thought of Adrian as her own brother. He was, in her eyes.

Ren slipped off the bed and tried to put on a pair of pants but fell over.
"Ow,"
He managed to get them on, and then walked over to Adrian and pulled him into a hug.

The green-eyed canine smiled and wrapped his arms around his brother.
"Ain't you just cute?"

Ren chuckled and pulled away.
"Sorry about... catching us like this. We really weren't expecting you."

Adrian smiled in confusion.
"Huh?"

"Yeah, well... you've been asleep for like, an entire fucking week now... so we weren't sure when you'd get be getting back up.

A week.

Adrian's smile dropped so hard that it left his mouth hanging open.

His good mood cracked and twisted like a wine-glass stuck in a blender.

And there it was... the sudden feeling of utter terror drilling holes in his stomach... he suddenly felt like throwing up...

A whole, fucking week. Locked behind him in time in a bullet-proof case he couldn't break.

The otter's voice dug into him.
This stuff is called Dog-Nightmare...

One whole week... slipped away...

Get me an ounce of this stuff, and we'll meet up next week-
Out of time... nowhere to run...
for you to give it to me.

One week, alright?

They were going to fucking die. Skim. Adrian... dead... strung up corpses to advertise to the rest of the world what happens when you fuck with a cartel.

He had just killed both of them. Dead. Fucked. Gone like two bags of trash. Crushed and squeezed and compacted.

"Jeez, calm down dude. We've kept you fed and stuff." Ren laughed as he slapped him on the back playfully.

Adrian tried to talk but all that came out was a dull whisper.

"What'd you say?"

Adrian cleared his throat, panic pricking all over him.
"My... my phone, I need it."

Vicky reached to her bedside table and tossed the sheepdog a black screened device.
"Some guy kept trying to call you." She shrugged. "Some dude called... what was it?" She looked over as Ren for assistance, but he shrugged as well. "Skim? Or something?"

Adrian caught it and sprinted through the barn, out through the massive doors, into the night and into the driver's seat of his car.

He had left his keys in the ignition, so with a violent twist the engine made a dull roar. Ready. Ready to race into pitch-black country-side.

He called the racoon, but he could barely hold the phone to his ear; his paws were shaking so bad.