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Down Under

© Cederwyn Whitefurr

3rd April, 2023

All Rights Reserved.


Enjoy what I write? Want to support me? Patreon.com/Cederwyn


This Week's Writing Challenge: There are more emotions than fear.

At least 1000 words, don't worry if you go over.

Tag all prompts with: WritingGroupChallenge.

Add all prompts to a separate folder.

Put the prompt description at the beginning of your story.


*

Growing up is hard...full of trials to overcome, adversity that seems insurmountable and not to mention the changes from childhood, then adolescence and finally, young adulthood!

Urgh...

What's worse than all that combined I ask myself?

Being...well...me...

My name is Angelica, my fathers little angel, or so I've heard since my earliest memories. I put it down to my snow white fur. My mother and father? Red kangaroo buck and Eastern Grey Doe – I love them both with all my heart and then some...

So out of this blending of two different species, they gave birth to their only child – which was me – I'm neither of them, I'm unique in both my colours and my unusual appearance.

I'm what the Doctor's called a sentient feral – It gave me nightmares for years! Now? I'm 18, I've done a lot of my own research and consultation – I understand what I am now, and above all, who I am...

Growing up, I had to adapt to my surroundings. What my Anthropomorphic parents made look so easy? I struggled with. Sure, I got paws and a sharp, inquisitive mind – yet my paws aren't as dexterous as I'd like... So, I had to find ways and means around my physical limitations.

I was bullied mercilessly as a joey – why? Because I was different – I was neither human nor anthropomorphic, I was a genetic mistake, a throw-back as it were. Words can hurt, the stones, sticks and worse those children struck me with hurt more – I overcome adversity, I became...

Myself...

*

My attention snaps like an old branch, as my lecturer's hands slap down on my desk before me, causing me to jump in alarm and gasp in fright.

“Miss Blacktail, how nice of you to rejoin us - “ He growls at me – literally –

He's a vulpine, his beautiful russet fur offset by those dark triangular ears and gloves on his hands and forearms.

“Sorry sir," I stammer, forcing my heart back down out of my throat. “It won't happen again, I promise!"

He stands up, then walks back down the stairs, returning to the podium at the front of the class, where he resumes his lecture. I hear the snickers of the other students around me, my ears slicking backwards and the blood in them making them almost glow with the embarrassment I feel.

Looking down at my customised laptop, I start taking notes from his class lecture. I'll never pass my courses, if I don't knuckle down and concentrate! As hard as I try, my mind keeps wandering – in less than four days, due to a powerful, anonymous, benefactor who paid for my tuition, myself and others from the college have been selected to travel half way around the world...

We're off to the land down under, Australia, my ancestral home...

I've traced my linage back through over a thousand generations, its a hobby of mine, I'm curious as to where I come from, and where I've been. Turns out my ancestors emigrated to America over a hundred years ago – before that? We lived in Australia – a part of me longs to return to my roots, to discover some deeper meaning to my existence – maybe this will be that trigger – or just open my mind to a new place and experience...

*

My claws click softly on the overlarge keys, as I resume note taking. More working, and less daydreaming – I've always had an imaginative and creative mind – its a blessing and a curse..really.

*

I'm at thirty-two thousand feet, cruising at a speed of about eight hundred odd miles an hour and...

I shudder and push those thoughts away. Whilst not a flyer, well, I am a flyer...

That's a terrible joke... My mind tells me.

I've been in this flying death trap for going on 20 hours now. I was given vet proscribed sedatives to calm me – I wish he'd doubled the dosage! I am laying on my back, laptop resting on my belly, my tail cramping horribly, the tip hanging over the edge into the aisle.

“Miss," A human flight attendant speaks, the plane in 'night' mode, most of the passengers asleep. “I need you too please fasten your seat belt and kindly sit so your tail isn't in the aisle."

Urgh...really? They think a sentient feral like me can sit in their airline chairs? Let alone wear a seat belt? I think I'd have been more comfortable in a damn crate in the cargo hold...

“Sorry," I stammer, closing the lid on my laptop and scooting backwards, my back hard up against the armrest at the window. About 2" of my tail still hangs over the edge, there's not a great deal I can do about it...

Trying to be patient, the Flight crew lady sighs and moves off. I guess that's a sort of a win for both of us... Opening my laptop again, I resume watching the movie – with subtitles – no headset I've ever found fits one like me...

*

Finally, startled out of sleep by the announcement, I twist my head and look out the window through one eye. I see we're a few thousand feet up still, pilot telling us to prepare for landing and so on. Awkwardly I tie two of the seat belts across my belly – its the best I can do, then get ready for the immigration and border checks.

I've flown a few times, mostly to Europe, so its not a complete mystery... then again, Australian Quarantine law is quite strict – for good reason... I better read the card I'm handed carefully...

*

Here I am, where here is, I have no idea. A bus that wheezed, smoked and coughed worse than a ten pack a day smoker, dropped me off and vanished down the dirt road, trailing diesel fumes, grey smoke, dust and about a million flies in its wake...

My eyes are burning, not only from the noxious fumes, but the sun! It's so bright here, way brighter than I'm used too back home in my beloved United States...

Turning about, my tail tip getting covered in dust, I pick up my suitcase awkwardly and make my way as best I can, towards shade and hopefully, a drink of water at what looks like a...

Bar? Tavern? I don't know what they call it 'down under'...

Dropping my bag outside, I look at the door, frustration and confusion evident in my facial expression, I'm certain. Taking a chance, I reach out and push the door – surprised to find it swinging open easily at my touch.

“Shut the damn door, you born in a tent? What do you think...What the hell? Get out of here Skip!"

I stand, half in-half out of the door, confused and bewildered. Oh, my appearance... they think I'm a feral kangaroo, do feral kangaroo's even come in to town? Let alone stand in the doorway, panting and the base of their ears wet with sweat? I don't know...

My urgent need for water drove me – that – and the temperature drop from outside, to inside? It offered me sweet relief from the oppressive heat that mercilessly beat down.

*

Introductions are hard, aren't they? I didn't know their slang terms, sure, they spoke english – but not words I have ever heard – and a few I'd rather never hear again! I was offered a drink – turns out Australian beer is far stronger than what I ever got at home! A few hours, lapping the amber gold from a bowl, which I thought was incredibly thoughtful, once the initial confusion wore off – and the inevitable stares...

I know my limits – I not only hopped over that line – I fairly bounded across it...

I woke some time later, a bed if it can be called that, had been made for me. It was two crude old military cots, a few blankets for a mattress.

“Urgh... my head - “ I grumbled, feeling the room spinning wildly as I did what my feral ancestors did, my body laying down, but stretching myself so my upper body was upright and I could look around.

After a quick check everything was where it should be – I awkwardly half rolled, well, fell, out of the bed and thumped to the floor. It's an unnatural position, legs bent backwards, paws splayed out to the side and tail between my aching hind legs – I think the ache in my head and the ache from my leg muscles were in a competition for who'd hurt more.

A few moment passed, and I finally managed to roll over and get my feet under me and stand upright – not without a few wobbles and head shaking of course...

My bag was close at hand, I fumbled open the straps and checked everything was where it should be – it pays to be cautious – before I closed it again and made my way back out to the bar.

“Morning Angelica," Come the cheerful voice of the human behind the bar. “I apologise for the inconvenience of your accommodations last night – I hope they weren't too uncomfortable for you?"

I turned my thudding head to look at him – he was as bright and alert as when I'd first crawled in – he'd beaten me six to one in drinking last night... Yet here he was, like he'd never touched alcohol in his life!

“Water – please - “ I croaked out, grabbing the closest bar stool and dragging myself into what I hoped was a more dignified position – aka – not about to go muzzle first into the floor boards.

He set a large bowl down in front of me, and I admit it, I acted like the feral I looked like – my muzzle almost up to my eyes buried in the bowl, I drank it down to the bottom in almost record time.

Water inside me – hopefully it'd stay there – my tumbling stomach had ambivalent thoughts about that! - I dropped back to all fours and crawled over to the door, eyes going wide as I caught the glimpse of sunset.

“Yep, you slept like the dead!" Chuckled the barkeep. “We carried you in there, set you down, and I swear, you didn't move a muscle all night."

Oh no, no, no, no! I had only limited time here in Australia, to lose almost a full day – would throw my plans into disarray! Ears slicked back, I looked back at the barman, who raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“I'll be back soon, I promise - “ I told him, nudging open the door as I slipped out into the gathering twilight.

“I'm not going anywhere - “ Come the voice from behind me, then the click of the door swinging shut.

*

I hopped around the town, if you could call it that! A few residential homes, the bar, I mean, to use the Australian vernacular watering hole or pub. Curiosity drove me, as I settled into a slow, gentle hop – one I knew I could keep up for hours with minimal energy expenditure.

Here, there, everywhere, it was all fascinating and entrancing – I watched the sun sink towards the distant mountains – wondering what lay beyond, when suddenly my white ears heard the sound...

Skidding to a halt, realising I'd come a mile or more from the township – I was out in the....

What's that word they use around here... the 'Nevernever' or something...

Strange lot, these Australians...

The noise come again, thump, thump, thump... was it my heart? I held the flat of my paw against my chest, counting the heightened beats.

Nope, not that...

Curious, I crawled through a thicket of salt-bush then saw the rust red dirt broken by something that brought me memories of home... A wide, dual carriage way, a ribbon of black tar that stretched from one horizon to the other. Edged on both sides with white, unbroken lines and a dashed line down the centre.

It's in the centre of the road, I saw...

Him...

A beautiful russet red, dark foot paws and mid-forearm length gloves. I'd studied Kangaroos, partially out of my own species predilection – partly out of curiosity. I'd never seen anything that come close to him – in musculature, stature or his abnormal colouration.

In the twilight, his head lifted and he looked at me – his eyes, oh his eyes... they sparkled with intelligence, feral intelligence, but intelligence none the same. Then I blinked and his eyes seemed to reflect the setting sun and make my heart do something no-one had ever done...

It felt like it'd stopped beating...

He crawled over to me, holding my gaze locked on his, I was immobile – incapable of thought or feeling – until he stood before me, standing upright and still holding me in his power – for that is what it felt like. His dark paw reached out, then cupped me under the chin – lifting it just enough, so my paws stayed on the ground, as he crouched forwards over me.

My ears went back, my eyes gazing up, my nostrils flaring as I drew breath after breath, smelling the kangaroo buck before me – he was a buck – I was almost level with his lower belly – trust me when I say, its not hard to tell a buck from a doe...

I wanted to speak, to say something, anything – yet my tongue froze in my muzzle, all I could do was stare – and smell the earthy scent of him, underlying it, was that masculine odour that was intoxicating and powerful.

He gazed down into my eyes, his own now sparkling like the stars so far above – before I heard – something -

“Have you ever been down under..." He spoke, his voice just clicks and grunts, yet in my mind, I heard the words. His voice was like a spring breeze and almost as faint.

His free paw caressed my ears – almost as if this feral buck knew how to turn my body to a quivering mess...

“Do not be afraid little doe - “ He whispered, his eyes seeming to double in size – or was it my imagination? He smiled, then leaned down and licked me from nose to forehead - I knew no more...

*

Next morning, I woke with a startled yelp, finding myself beneath an ancient eucalyptus tree, its shade protecting me from the torment of the heat I knew would follow soon.

Memories – fragments of fragments – a touch... words... sensual feelings I'd never imagined...

I struggled to recollect, to remember, to do anything but lay there, my body feeling the most relaxed and tranquil it's ever been – yet another part of me..

I shook my head, slapping my paws on the dusty ground, then dragged myself upright. Shaking myself off, dust flying from my white fur, I felt – changed – there was a passing of something, physically and mentally – yet it was as elusive as a half-remembered dream come waking.

A gift given... Come a sibilant whisper on the wind. For one deserving of such. A life given, in exchange for one that was taken all too soon...

A... My mind turned on itself, fighting to recall what had happened to me, I remember that buck, his touch, his words, his...

Shaking my head, ears slapping from side to side, I crawled at first, then began to hop, settling into the stride I knew so well. I'd return to the pub, I remember now, I'd return and ask about that strange, enigmatic kangaroo...

*

With a string of words, I'd never heard, and wish I hadn't, the barman dropped the tray of glasses as I described, to the best of my ability, the kangaroo I'd met.

“Strewth miss," He stammered, then leaned forwards on the bar, the other bar patrons staring open mouthed and a few openly crying. “You're not pulling our leg, are you?"

I looked up, confused and bewildered. “No, I swear, I'm telling the truth!"

“It can't be..." Someone murmured.

“She's had too much sun..." Another said. “Poor doe's been brain-fried, not used to the..."

I slammed a hind foot down with a sharp slap, silencing everyone. “I know what happened to me! I'm not lying, I'm telling you all the truth!"

“Miss, I don't mean to discourage you, or say outright – but that buck you describe? Well, he's a myth, a legend around these here parts..."

“Believe me!" I squealed, placing my paws on my belly, my way of crossing my arms, then I slammed a foot again. “He's no myth – I remember now, last night he and I..."

We what?

My mind suddenly goes blank, the memories fading, replaced by nothing, its like something just plucked them and my words out of both my mind and my muzzle.

“Miss? He's a legend – story is, a few years ago? There was a spirit kangaroo – only a handful ever saw her, even fewer got touched by her – well, long story short... Eventually, she just up and vanished. We all thought it a myth, but there was this one bloke, a townie..."

“Townie?" I asked, curious and confused.

“Sorry, some bloke from the big smoke – I mean, the city... Well, he come out here, I forget what or why... Anyway, he ended up with the damn weirdest..."

“What?"

“He got a kangaroo paw print on his chest, right over his heart... Nobody knows how or where he got it – it just – appeared, you know? Anyway, long story short – again – He vanished like a fart in a fan factory, you know?"

I giggled, I couldn't help it, the visual image flew through my mind.

“We looked for weeks – never found him. Anyway, word come through, there was the damn near strangest kangaroo buck anyone had ever seen... His markings and colours? They're an identical match to yours you claim to have met last night, out on the highway..."

“Bullshit - “ Someone cried out.

“I swear, its true!" I repeated, feeling exasperated. “Why won't you believe me?"

“Why? Because..." Sighed the barman, then poured a bowl of beer and set it before me. “Drink this, you'll want it..."

I didn't want it – but I drank it none the less...

“That buck you described? “ He repeated, then shook his head. “It can't be him..."

“Why not?" I asked, eyes widening, the fear that permeated the bar filling me.

“That buck... well, he was a real one, got out on the highway over there..."

He gestured in the direction from which I'd hopped an hour before. “He got run over by a road train – it was quick, it happens a lot here..."

A life for a life taken all too soon...

I mentally grasped at he words, as if my mind could hold them and clutch them tight.

“No..." I whispered, ears flat and eyes wide, muzzle hanging open. “He was real... He and I, I mean..."

I found once again, my throat locked and my tongue turned to clay in my muzzle. How could I tell them, what I barely recalled? How he and I had made love beneath the stars..him claiming me, buck to doe...

My eyes went wide, and my paws instinctively clutched at my lower belly.

No... I can't be...

A life given... Come the quiet voice in my mind. Fear not young doe, for there are other emotions other than fear...


END