Brady wandered into Oliver's kitchen in his underwear, sleepily rubbing his eyes and looking at the lab, who was currently in the process of pouring orange juice.

“Morning there." Said the dog, eyeing up the tired wolf. Looking at the clock on the microwave, Brady saw it was just past eleven. His head hurt, and he didn't know if that was from the narcotics the group had consumed, or the alcohol. His memory swam back to him as he realised he was in Oliver's home, the other furs all snoring lightly in the lounge room, piled together in a gross amalgamation of bodies in the centre.

“Hey." Said the wolf, massaging the back of his head lightly. “What the fuck man?" He asked, sitting down on a stool. Oliver shrugged, sipping his drink and making a non-committal noise from his snout.

“Whaddya mean? The K? I know right?" He said finally, coughing a little, his voice hoarse from shouting the previous night. Brady nodded, frowning a little at himself. That wasn't the kind of thing he'd normally do, pack mentality maybe, but just tacitly accepting some new kind of drug? He preferred to at least know a little about what he was putting in his body, and his knowledge of K was severely lacking.

“I'm not noticing any kinds of side effects…I mean aside from being hungover." He replied eventually. “Anything I should look out for?" He asked, cocking his head a little at the topless dog. Oliver shrugged again, dropping his glass into the sink and ignoring the bottle of juice on the counter.

“Nah, its fine." He said, a little too flippantly for Brady's liking. “Don't worry about it, I've missed you bro." He added, clapping the wolf on the shoulder as he walked back to the living room. “I wanted to show you a warm welcome back, y'know?"

“I guess." Said Brady, watching as Oliver flopped down on a couch, propping his feet up on the back of a sleeping horse. The stallion shifted a little, before murmuring and returning to sleep.

“You don't sound too keen…you didn't like it?" Asked Oliver, his head falling limply back as his eyes closed.

“No, it's not that, I liked it fine. I dunno. I think I better go though." He replied, beginning to pick up his clothes from the around on the floor.

“No worries. I'll see you 'round though, yeah?" Asked the lab, to which Brady just nodded.

He left the sleeping furs, and the half-sleeping one, further undisturbed. Venturing out into the hot morning sun, Brady shielded his sensitive eyes from the glare as he wandered onto the path. He'd been over to the house a lot when he was a pup, and knew his way home easy enough. He began to make his way home woozily, wobbling as he went, having some vague idea as to where he was supposed to go. He walked for about five minutes, slowly picking up speed and coordination, making better time as he went. His house had always been a little bit of a hike, each of the houses on opposite sides of town. He was somewhat amazed that not even one night back and he'd already been to a party, tried a new drug and ended up completely hungover. Luckily Oliver seemed to be telling the truth about the K, if anything Brady felt unusually happy, still coming down from the multiple lines he'd done. It was the mix of alcohol which had screwed everything up.

“Uh, Brady?" The soft voice originated behind the wandering wolf, and he turned to see Max standing there, wearing light running gear. It took the hungover fur a second to shake himself out of the stupor, blinking his vision into focus and eyeing the cheetah. In addition to the running shorts, the cat also had a tight shirt on, and soft, brightly-coloured running shoes. A pair of headphones dangled around his neck, he'd obviously been running and listening to music, taking them out to interrupt the hungover wolf.

“Oh, Max…hey there." Replied Brady, sounding exactly like a twenty-year old who'd had too much to drink the night before. “How you doing?"  

“I'm good…are you okay?" Asked the cheetah, cocking his head and examining the state of the wolf. Brady lifted a paw to shield his eyes from the sun, feeding in painfully through a kaleidoscope pattern of leaves in the distance.

“Yeah man, yeah. Long night." He said, nodding and grinning.

“I can see that. Have you uh…eaten anything recently?" The wolf shook his head, prompting the cheetah to cluck his tongue. “Idiot, come on dude, let's get some brunch yeah?" Brady just nodded, allowing the cheetah to step forward and put a steadying arm around his shoulders, leading him down the path. The wolf was grinning, noticing that the cheetah was really nervous. His eye-line was all over the place, looking up and down and around, not able to focus properly. His cheeks, even beneath the fur, were blushing. Still, he was proud of the younger guy. Max hadn't had any experience really, dealing with other gay guys, and he was so far doing a pretty good job.

“No…uh no, can we eat somewhere else?" Added Brady, as he realised they were getting closer to the café his mother ran. Not somewhere he wanted to be right after waking up from a night of debauchery and mischief. Realising his mistake, the cheetah stopped, making a turn in the direction of the other food emporium.

“Oh, uh, right. Sorry." He stammered, his face getting even redder. Brady let himself be led by Max, down the street and towards the other café, which was really more of a bakery, but everyone called it a café anyways.

“So you were running at eleven?" Asked Brady, realising it was kind of weird. Max nodded, gesturing to his headphones.

“Yeah, it's a great way to get through podcasts, y'know?" He explained. Brady had been wrong earlier, not music.

“Oh, okay." He said, nodding slowly. It was still weird he thought. They pushed through the front door, the wolf instantly finding a seat as Max went straight to the counter and ordering. After he sat back down, the two waited in silence for about five minutes, before a tall mug of coffee was deposited in front of each of them. Brady greedily picked up his own drink, sipping it and burning his tongue, not caring as he swallowed the addictively hot water. Drugs of all kinds, all round. He thought wryly.

“I got us both some food too, just bacon, eggs, greasy stuff. It's good for hangovers." Said Max, smiling sweetly. Brady nodded, agreeing whole-heartedly.

“Thanks dude, I appreciate it. It's really nice of you to do this." He said, adding a sweet, poor-me kind of inflection to his voice. Max smiled back, Brady finding him stupidly cute.

“That's okay man. I'm glad to." They both went quiet for a moment, and Max fidgeted for a second, before exhaling quickly. “Okay…so I wasn't just running."

“Oh?" asked Brady, already having a pretty good idea.

“Yeah…My house is a street over from Oliver's…which I guess you came from, right?" He said. Brady just nodded. “Well, I mean, I was in the lounge room when you wandered past…" He laughed, seemingly to himself more than to the wolf he was addressing.

“Really? So you were just…lying around in running gear?" The cheetah blushed yet again, much deeper this time around.

“Uh, no. I was in my trakkies, but I thought it'd be a good excuse to run up and talk to you." The young male turned his head, staring at his folded paws. Brady giggled, before shrugging and leaning back in his booth seat.

“It wasn't bad. I've seen worse I guess." He laughed again, finding the whole situation ridiculous. Max looked up, still bright red but at least smiling wide.

“It was kind of dorky I guess. I just really wanted to talk to you." He admitted. Their conversation was interrupted by someone appearing next to them, a tall otter male, passing each of them a plate filled with toast, bacon, eggs and sausage.

“Oh my god." Said Brady, his mouth already watering at the food. Without any more excessive words, each of the furs began devouring their plats, voraciously consuming the reward platter. Max had indeed been right, once Brady was done, he felt much better. The two finished off with another mug of hot coffee each, just discussing where their lives were at. Brady talked about what it was like being back in town, the kind of things he got up to in an economics degree. Max talked about his apprenticeship work, and his plans for the future. In the end, the cheetah paid for the food and drinks, and walked the still-slightly woozy wolf back to his house.

“You gonna be alright mate?" He asked, standing outside the building. Brady nodded.

“Fine, fine. Thanks for the food." He said.

“Anytime." Replied Max, beaming. Brady thought for a moment, then decided it was worth a try, since the cheetah clearly already liked him at least a little.

“Soon you should let me take you out for real, when I'm…y'know, more sober." The younger male's eyes lit up and he grinned an honest, legitimately wholesome kind of grin.

“Hell yeah, that'd be fantastic!" He added, stepping forwards and wrapping the wolf in a tight hug. With the smell of cheetah fur (Which was certainly not unpleasant) in his face, Brady smiled, hugging back and planting a tiny kiss on the cat's neck. Blushing, Max turned and began to run in the other direction, waving as he went. Brady watched him for a minute, before going inside his parents' home and back to bed.

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Nine-year-old Brady and Oliver pedalled through the natural pathway, the cool breeze whipping through their fur. The ground they were riding their bikes on had the grass worn off of it through use, but the ground was still a little haphazard. They didn't say much, just riding along pleasantly. The trees were around them were warped and almost demonic, looming over the two young boys ominously. The knobbly branches twisting out manically in all kinds of directions, intertwined chaotically above them.

“How much further?" Brady called out to his friend, who was pedalling up ahead. The path they'd taken was only wide enough for one fur to ride. So they had to go single-file. The labrador turned his head back, grinning.

“Not too far, c'mon don't be such a pup Brady!" He laughed. Turning back to the trail and speeding up his bike. The young wolf frowned, regretting his choice to come and see Oliver's 'surprise'. The dog had promised something mind-blowing. In the schoolyard, and the town as a whole, the younger generation had very strict social rules surrounding the term mind-blowing. You didn't just toss it out willy-nilly, no, pup, you're new toy is not mind-blowing. It's awesome, cool, wicked, sweet and any other of the many synonyms…but not mind-blowing. Mind-blowing was reserved for stuff they weren't supposed to see, things that were forbidden to the young'ns.

“You better not be talking shit Ollie!" Brady called out as he swerved his bike, narrowly avoiding a potentially lethal obstacle, in the form of a dead stick. It had been mind-blowing when Ryan Peterson had managed to steal his Dad's porn magazines. It had been really mind-blowing when Jackson Miles had one-upped Ryan, managing to get through the password on his computers child-lock. Mind-blowing. When Oliver stole an R-rated action movie from his parents, filled with blood and explosions and guns, that had been mind-blowing. Brady had only come today on the promise whatever they'd be seeing would be actually mind-blowing. For reals.

“Hey, it's just up ahead!" Cried Oliver, slowing his bike to a crawl before hopping off and walking out into the clearing he'd led the duo to. Brady didn't look up as he mirrored the dog's motions, dumping the bicycle before jogging over to the other boys side.

“What?" He panted, looking at Oliver, who's gaze was fixated on something in the distance. He raised a paw, outstretching a finger and pointing.

“Look." He said. Brady turned his eyes, letting out a short gasp as he saw just exactly what Oliver had brought him to see.