#123 of Short Stories
A badger doesn't have much of a choice, given the circumstances.
~ The glimmer of terror in her eyes and hope curled up into her smile kept the badger on his feet and glancing about, though the suit was heavy and the smoke thick. He'd seen the little girl scant seconds earlier, keeping his calm as the minutes of power trickled away from his suit and into the blaze's heat and chaos.
~ The old raccoon gazed out over the world below, standing alone in the room of his apartment aboard the orbital station. Letting out a sigh as he turned his attentions to the digital easel, palette-pad in one hand and stylus brush in his other. The...
~ The streets of the trade district were a grinding mess of sound and sights, gleaming with the tones of cart wheels and wares on display. Tucked into one of the buildings, Varner's Books held against the tide of diversions as an oasis of dust and...
~ The previous eight months had been hard on the wolf. At a tempo he'd never prepared for he managed to bury a father and mourn over his mother's ashes. The weight and absences of it all were creeping into his realization, standing in a kitchen as...