We spent a couple days in Edinburgh, relaxing and getting adjusted to the time difference. Once we felt that our bodies' internal clock had been reset, we set off, loaded down with our enormous packs. We tried only to bring essentials, and even spent a bit more on ridiculously compact versions, like a mattress the size of a playing card that self-inflated at the push of a button, or the pouch for clothes that was bigger on the inside. I still don't know how they managed that last one–some Doctor Who fan figured out a way to cheat physics. Life imitating art and all that. Yet, even with all these pieces of tech, we were still easily carrying close to 100 pounds each. 

We walked, town to town, down through the Scottish country side. Every time we saw anything interesting, we'd snap a picture and it'd send to Facebook automatically. Both of us felt geeked when we saw the famous bridge the train goes over in Harry Potter. And we took a number of pictures with it, each more ridiculous than the last. 

"You know what we need to do?" Jake asked as we moved away from the bridge.

"Go to Hogwarts?" I said sarcastically. 

Jake nodded. "Yup."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean we go to King's Cross station and go to Platform 9 3/4."

"Jake I hate to break it to you, but there's no such thing." 

He stopped. "You mean you don't know?!"

"Know what?"

"You'll see." He sang, practically skipping off. 

When we got to the next town, we decided to take a break for the day and grab something to eat at a local pub. The first we stayed away from just because of the horrid stench given off by the building. If that's what the food smelled like, then I don't want to know what it tasted like. 

The second we walked into this place called McCullens the entire room of humans stopped and looked at us.

"Uh... Hi?" I said. 

"Cannae ye ne read the sign?" someone said. 

I stammered. 

"Bloody mongrels! No furs allowed! Get out o' here before we make you regret it," someone else said. 

We just turned and backed away, exiting the pub. Life returned inside once we left. 

"What the hell was that?" I said. 

"Pure bar? Are you fucking kidding me? A fucking pure bar?! That's fucki–" he stopped himself and I saw him force the anger from himself. He knew how upset I would be so I could see him forcing himself to be the calm one of the pair of us. "I just don't know, man." Jake sighed and clapped me on the back.

"They can't do that! We outlawed segregation!" A little too late, we saw a large sign on the door that said in large, bold, letters: No Furs! "What the hell, man?" I pounded my fist on the sign. 

"Psst!" A voice in the shadows called to us. Jake and I turned towards the voice came from. "Come here!" it called again. 

After a hesitant glance at one another, we decided: fuck it, and walked closer to the voice. A hand reached out and pulled us into a door where we were thrown to the other side of the room. 

Though dark, I could tell that the room was actually quite big, easily going off for a couple hundred feet in one direction. It was longer than it was wide. It felt like a warehouse, but it was all built in this old stone work that didn't seem very structurally sound. I thought I saw eyes in the darkness but I didn't get much of look. My attention went back to the door and the figure that grabbed us.

The door slammed shut and around turned a lithe feline female. She was around my age and was beautiful. A panther, she had dark fur that was practically invisible in the shadows, but as she stepped closer I could see her more clearly. Her head fur was long and dyed dark red, half of her hair on one side of her head went up at angle and half went down at the same angle. She had bright green eyes and was curvaceous body. She was wearing tight jeans and a t-shirt that stretched across her perky breasts. Probably C's–very nice. She was fucking hot. 

"What are you doing?" Jake asked, knocking me out of my haze.

"Saving your asses. You're clearly not from around here." I'd watched enough British TV to recognize a London accent when I heard it.

"We're traveling..." I said, keeping it as vague as possible.

"I can tell. You're idiots, you know that? The both of you."

"What's going on here?" Jake asked. 

"You don't know?"

We shook our heads. 

"You are idiots. Things over here aren't as good as they are for you. You might've passed segregation laws but we didn't. We're fucking slaves here."

"Your family?" I asked, regretting it instantly. 

"No. All furs. We're under strict curfews and if we're caught on the street after dark, we're thrown in jail."

"They can't do that!" I cried. 

"They have the law on their side," she said plainly. 

"Then fight the laws! Fight back! Fight for what's right!" I yelled, voice surely carrying outside the small, dimly-lit shed. 

"Brent–"

"How do you kn–"

"Please!" She took a step towards me as our argument got more and more intense. The thickness of her accent grew as she spat angrily.

"Everyone knows who you are."

"If you know who am I then you know what I did! Fight for change."

The panther flipped a switch and the lights to the rest of the room came on, filling every corner with illumination. The lights revealed posters, hundreds of them, all over the walls, plastering the room with a single word and a face. The word was fight; the face was mine.