Paper, Plastic, or Tire Iron. (Otherwise Untitled)

Story by Moriar on SoFurry

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#55 of Short Stories

A short stop at a gas station, kept from being forever.


~ Leaning against the sky blue finish of their battered vehicle, the barn owl glanced between the ticking of the pump and the hood with its silent engine beneath. His curiosity was piqued, notions to take a peek at the mechanisms forming as the pump kept up the ticking. He groped about at the underside of the dashboard through the driver side window, until the hood responded with the satisfying 'Whunk' of offered access. The fuel kept ticking away while he slunk over to take a peek at the powertrain and the mysteries of its hose, belt, and cable tangled operations.

~ The cashier, apron long stained with the various oils and automotive fluids to the point that it matched the dull tints of the coyote's fur, glowered out to the pump while his fingers danced across the tire iron laid out on the shelf behind the counter. His mind dredged to try and call forth the memories of if the owl had arrived alone, while memories of the smouldering vestiges of his parent's world started to drown any semblance of reason. The arrival of a customer put on hold the construction of plans to get the owl alone, his attention turning to the bear who presented an awkwardly collected assembly of bottles and crinkling bags of various salted vegetable paste discs.

~ As she let the snacks and drinks cascade onto the counter, the brown bear made sure to square up her shoulders while she pretended to not notice the cashier's grip on the tire iron while providing commentary to the coyote's glances out to her travel companion. "Yeah, he's from one of those neutral orbital stations that got sunk for not joining in the fight against us." She fixed the cashier with a pointedly downward stare, "He's with me, I'm taking him to the refugee processing a few tracts over." The cashier's thoughts had clearly been derailed, as he babbled and stumbled his way from realizing her presence to volunteering a receipt as she hastily stomped off to admonish the owl for whatever he planned to do with that wrench.

Going For a Ride (Otherwise Untitled)

~ The gryphon sighed, handing over the riding bridle. "This isn't going to come close to working with my beak." ~ The raccoon's face seemed a bit crestfallen. ~ Flaring his wings for a bit of emphasis, ".. and I think this saddle would break at least...

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Gryphon's Secret

~ The gryphon's loins flared to life as the raccoon inquired of his opinion. The catbird kept his belly to the cool floor, his posture of feigned serenity. ~ "Oh, yes. That bikini bottom is a nice pattern against your fur.", for once thankful for the...

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Gryphon's Reply (Otherwise Untitled)

~ The tip of the gryphon's beak trailed a path up along her waist and to her belly, tongue following behind on a teasing retreat from her damp regions. ~ Pausing his precise attentions, the gryphon answered, "I'm all mammal where it counts, hon."

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