The following is a little bit that I felt compelled to write after seeing an image by the amazing duo artist  Hax (A combination of the amazing Tess Garman (AKA Kenket) and Lofi). Anyway, If you like the following story or love the artwork it is associated with, please go and follow all three of the above accounts and favorite the image there.

As far as the story goes, I tried to keep the characters nameless for a couple of reasons. For one, I don't know if this submission was a commission or a fun piece for the duo, so I felt that leaving them nameless lets whomever this was for have the ability to claim this was for themselves too. Second, I felt that it allows the reader to become either of the two characters and just sort of live their life for this small moment. This is an extremely short story, but I felt it could still give a small backdrop and a bit of story on two completely different furs. You'll have to let me know what you think. And of course, comments are always appreciated and thank you for the follow.

Get Your Own 

His mornings had become something of a ritual; from the groggy walk down to the cramped, little kitchen, to the setting of the kettle under the faucet. As the water ran, he opened the window to let the cold air from outside come in. The stiff air of the kitchen quickly faded away, but the fox barely noticed the refreshing smell of new rain that entered. 

A shiver ran up the vulpine's spine, pushing out the still asleep feeling as he took a deep breath in. He shook off the chill in his bones before closing the window and turning off the faucet. One more flick of his ears and swish of his tail and the sleepiness of the morning was gone.  

Putting the kettle on the stove-top, the fox turned the knob and listened to the familiar clicking before the fire went on. He waited there a moment, possibly because the stove had gone out in the past, but more than likely letting morning thoughts course through his head. When he felt satisfied, he moved on down the tight hallway to grab the paper from the porch. 

Paper on the table, coffee grounds out of the cupboard, and with a hissing of the kettle he made the first pot. 

The sound of the kettle's whistling woke the dog from his sleep, his paws naturally pulling the sheets closer to him as a new coldness floated into the room. He shivered and nuzzled into the pillow, just enjoying being in bed and awake at this early hour. 

When his thoughts finally came to something new, the canine pulled back the covered and got up for the day. He dressed quickly into whatever clothes had been tossed on the floor from the previous night, not even thinking if he should wear something fresh and new. Taking a quick moment to scratch behind his ears and breathe in deeply, he felt ready to tackle another day.  

The border collie walked with a grin on his face down every step of the stairway towards the kitchen, taking a moment to look at the pictures on the wall. Maybe this was his morning ritual, or perhaps this was just the dog's way of reminding himself how every day could be made amazing.   

Of all the photographs on the walls, only one in particular ever made him stop for more than a gaze. It was a small frame with the tiny wood painted green. Over the years the paint had chipped and the wood had cracked, but still the frame held that photograph of a dreary day in what would otherwise have been field of rolling gold. His paws reached up and touched the spot where the two of them were, sitting on the only rock.  

The collie couldn't remember who had taken the photograph, nor could he remember if anyone else had been out that day, but he could remember the look in the other furs eyes. Green, but not the deep green they always describe in those cheesy novels. No, his eyes were more like a seaweed green with a hint of a saffron-yellow gleam. He was smiling, and his eyes completed the expression that could only mean, "You make the best out of a gloomy day."  

His paw left the photograph and he touched his nose, his paw pads reminding him of that cold and dry nose that had been lightly touching his. He let a smile crack across his face as the memory faded, all before turning to walk the final steps of the staircase.  

Turning down the hall, the dog went through the door and saw the autumn burnt red fur of the back of the fox's head. He let his eyes trace lines around the vulpine's black ears as he approached slowly, his arms coming out. 

Like a perfect puzzle pieces, his paws slid into place under the fox's armpits. He let his head run through the other canine's neck ruff, nuzzling nicely. The smell of vulpine and coffee entered his nostrils and he closed his eyes to just enjoy the moment. His paw reaching up to try and grab the cup. "Make this for me?" 

The dog didn't have to open his eyes to know the fox had let his ears fall forward again, nor to see the slightly annoyed gaze. He felt hot breath across his own muzzle before the vulpine finally spoke up."You do realize we own a kettle, right?"