Tylvinian Tales: The Wolf's Den

Chapter 1: Dance

Ferusian Law, First Sequence, Article One: Protection of Opinion

Ferusian citizens are entitled to opinion,and non-violent expression of opinion,regardless of theme, topic, or form, and are not to be subjected to harm, persecution,or discrimination based on opinion heldby any Ferusian citizen. This right shall not beinfringed by any person(s), government(s), or organization(s)under any circumstances.

Failure to adhere to this law is an act of treason.

The crowd before me cheered, bodies jumping, moving, writhing in time with the beat of the music pouring into the room. As the bass thumped, feet stomped, and the thrum of the dance floor could be felt all around. At the center of the crowd, with people on all sides of him, dancing with wild abandon and not a care in the world, there amid the excitement stood David Seltz. He was my best friend in the world, the man I'd grown up with and spent the better part of my life with so far. Entirely platonic, of course. We were friends, and even with our jokes and the games of chicken we would play, it never went further than that.

My name is Ryder Trayson, I'm 22-year-old Grey Greatwolf. I live in Tylvin, the capitol city of Ferus, where I work as a freelance musician. Most of the time I work as a DJ for various clubs around the city, but tonight I was working for free. It was worth it, given I was playing for one man's most important day of the year. It was the twenty-third day of Fina, year four thousand and nineteen. David's twenty-first birthday. He had asked me to play for him tonight, even offering to pay me, but I couldn't do that to him.

The music swelled, and the crowd lost themselves in its ebb and flow as the melody played. I had a buffet of stimulation before me. Sights, sounds, smells, textures. But my eyes kept drifting back to the hybrid dancing in the crowd. David. He was a caxy, a hybrid between fox and cat species. Half snow fox, half Maltese, a blend that worked well together if his physique and fur patterns were anything to go by.

David was a mid-tone grey color, with white fur stretching from his lower lip down his chin, throat, chest, belly, and dipping into his inner thighs. The fur of his fingers and toes were black, making them stand out sharply against the grey of his hands and paws. He had rings of black around his eyes, and crescent-shaped white fur along the bottom of those black rings that looked like bags under his eyes, an eternally tired look. His thick, long hair was mahogany brown and unkempt, haphazardly brushed so that it covered his left eye.

Then my gaze drifted to his eyes. He had eyes like cornflowers, as blue as nature allowed. They had a gentle glow to them, a dim light radiating outward. In the dark it was especially noticeable, like dim neon. It gave him an ethereal appearance in the dark, and now was no exception, with the light of his eyes amplified in the black light that filled the room.

I couldn't take my eyes off of him. His ears, flicking and twitching with the music, his lips parting and closing to sing along. The fishnet shirt, which showed off his girlish figure and soft, smooth fur. He was wearing a pair of sky-blue elbow-length fingerless gloves, standing out in stark contrast to his pale fur and the darkness of his fingers.

Around his waists was a black pleated skirt, cerulean lines cutting across the waist and made brighter by the black light. I chuckled to myself at the sight. He looked fantastic. He was stunning and everyone knew it, judging by the hands roaming his body now and then. He leaned into some, and playfully swatted at others, never letting anyone get too close to any particularly intimate places.

As the song ended, he settled into a comfortable stance before stretching. I grabbed my microphone, standing up and gesturing for the spotlight to aim my way. I cleared my throat, getting the crowd's attention before addressing them.