He told her everything.

Of the meager ‘food rations,' and the secretive, midnight services. The metallic cold of a winter's sleeplessness. The ghosts of everything you could breathe. Oh, such chills, even in warmth ... and even then, the numbness. Was there such a thing as a healthy apathy? He had practiced it, back then, for so, so long ... he'd been some-fur that she would never have recognized. He'd been a shadow of his current self.

The scent of wolverines, and the fear such a smell inspired, and how, one day, they'd jostled him on the sidewalk. He'd sprained his wrist. And they had, not knowing his name, simply referred to him as ‘Nobody Number One' ... and the ‘election' days, and the forced marches. And the pretending to smile. And with all that they dissected to pieces nowadays, why didn't they get that the science of numbing was a damning one?

He told her everything ...

... how life had been like a slow suicide.

How you'd been taught to love each other less.

How totalitarian living left its toll.

How it was all dark until Him. He saved the mouse, Yes, even a mouse ... how He'd picked up the pieces of a shattered heart, and turned heartache into beauty. And, oh ... oh, everything ...

... he told her.

They'd been about to dance. To sway, to waltz, to lean their heads on each other's shoulders and move about the room. Like they'd done before. Like they often did. Like he liked to do ... to dance with her.

But unable, weakly wriggling away, telling her to dance without him. "You dance so gracefully," he'd told her. "Dance without me."

But the snow rabbit refused.

And, now, as she'd been for the past several minutes, she was on the couch, at a sit. She cradled him. Oh, her mate. She cradled him ... " ... cry," was her whisper.

"I already have," was Ollie's blank whisper. His head in her lap. Curled up in a fetal-position on the couch, " ... I ... I need to be strong for you. I need to leave you," he whispered, "in the end of it all ... w-with more than tears. More than just cliches."

"You are the furthest thing," she assured him, "from a cliche ... your purity, your surviving innocence ... the originality in that," was her whisper, "makes for a lovely light." Her fingers were in his white, white fur.

"I ... I still gotta be strong for you. I don't wanna be a waif ... "

"You cannot help that you are more effeminate than not. You are a male mouse."

"That's not what I meant. I just ... I don't wanna cry anymore."

"And I am telling you that you must. At least ... until the need has passed."

"I'm dry of tears," he whispered. "I'm all dry."

"I do not believe that ... " Her paws gently stroked his neck. And his bare shoulders. "My Ollie ... my love. You must let go of this pain."

Ice-blue eyes watering. "I ... I ... "

"Give it to Him. He came to lessen our burdens ... to restore our souls ... "

"I've tried," was the trembling reply. "I ... I can't FORGET. I want it ... I want it out of my head," he wept, "but I can't! It's such an ache. Arianna ... and it's been there so long that, it's ... in a sick way," the snow mouse (lacking the emotional freezes inherent to other ice-furs) ... he prattled. "I ... I almost crave it. It's an ache I crave. It's ... I don't know how to live WITHOUT pain." Sobbing harder now, the mouse buried his face in her lap. His sounds half-muffled. His ears stilled (a rarity).

She, as emotional as her freeze would allow (for to see your love in pain ... was to feel pain yourself). She closed her eyes. Continued to stroke him. Continued to be there. Continued ...

... to cry. And he coughed, too, a few times, sniffling hard ...

"Give Him your burdens. Let them go ... I need you," she said, so quietly. "Please ... heal," she said, "for me. For yourself. For all of us." A breath. "This suitcase you are carrying. The one with all the pain and remorse and guilt ... drop it. Unfurl your fingers. And let it go," she begged. "Please?"

A sniffle. And hurting. And breathing out a drunkard's prayer. A victim's vesper. Turning his head, so that his ear rested on her lap. Muzzle free to speak in shaky whispers. To say, "Dear Jesus ... please ... take it." A welling sob. " ... oh, please. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I give it to you. M-my burdens ... dear God ... "

Arianna gently ran her fingertips around the pink, thin flesh of his exposed earlobe. She nodded encouragingly.

"Say Your pieces in me ... shape me. Take it, and ... m-make me better. I love you, oh, I ... " And a breath. And the realization, spoken in prayer, "I shouldn't have tried to heal myself. I should've let You heal me ... "

The snow rabbit, still soothing him, still touching him in the softest, softest ways, told him, "I believe ... that the Lord brought us together for a reason, Ollie. Do you believe that?"

A sniffle. A definite nod.

"I needed to learn what love was. I needed ... to love. And you? You need to be healed ... and I will help you," she assured. "And the Lord will help us both."

A tiny head-nod. A breath. The mouse quieting again ...

And she tugged him gently up ... to place a kiss on his ear. To whisper for him to no longer fear.

Salvation was here.

"I know," he whispered, giving a residual sniffle. "I ... I'm ... I know ... "

"Are you going to be okay?" she asked him, her whiskers giving a twitch.

"Yes," he whispered, energy back in his voice (as it would've been in the call of a phoenix after it rose from the flames).

She continued to pet and stroke him.

He continued to breathe and calm ...

... and, then, she said, "Are you up to playing in our game?"

"Game?"

"Aria is gathering several crew-furs for a game. A ‘bonding exercise,' she calls it. She says it will be ‘fun' ... and et cetera."

A little, tiny giggle-squeak. "And et cetera, huh? Mm ... well ... "

"We do not have to go."

"No, I ... I wanna go," Ollie assured. "Just give me a few more minutes," he whispered. "Please ... just ... I ... "

"It is okay," she hushed.

He scooted back down, so that his head lay on her lap again.

She closed her eyes and breathed. "It is okay," she repeated.

A few seconds of silence. And, "Arianna?"

"Yes, Ollie?"

"Can we, uh ... can we still dance? Do we have time to dance?"

"We have plenty of time," she assured, eye-smiling, "to dance."

A sniffling smile. "Mm, that's ... that's good. Cause I wanna dance you round the kitchen floor," he waxed, the romance lifting his tone, "like a carnival troubadour."

"Then, by all means, my mouse ... do so."

So, he sat up, got off the couch, extended a paw ...

... and did.



An audible clap-clap of paws, to get every-fur's attention. "I thank you for coming," Aria said, squinting in the simulated sun. On the simulated field. "This is a practice I gleaned from my time on Solstice. I think it would work here, as well. That being: we come together, as friends, as senior officers ... with a few exceptions," she said, noting the presence of Ross, Ollie, and Olivia (the snow rabbit). "We come together to play. To bond."

A few nods.

"Now ... we shall do this twice a week. Each time, a different fur chooses the game we shall play. I am choosing this time, and I have chosen," the snow rabbit continued, starting to eye-smile, "football."

Some smiles and some blinks. In the small sea of ear-swivels and tail-snakes.

"However, this will be a ‘two-paw touch' game. Down by two-pawed contact. There will be no shoving, kicking, or biting. Or clawing," she added, and thought for a moment. "Or yanking of tails."

"Definitely no yanking of tails," Ross agreed, by her side. He delicately held his naked-pink, silky, ropy mouse-tail in his paws. Almost protectively.

Giggle-squeaks. And chitter-chuckles.

"And no baring of teeth," Aria added, for EXTRA good measure. Cause, with furs, competition often brought out the edgier sides of animal instinct ... even in the name of ‘fun,' there were ALWAYS one or two who took it far too seriously.

"Teacher? Teacher?" called Barrow jokingly, raising a winged arm, paw waving. "Are we gonna have to take a time-out and put our nose in a corner ... if we're bad?" The periwinkle-furred bat had grown noticeably more jovial since his mating to Bic. Which was a welcome sight to all ... the bat, now, actually spent a lot of time in the mess hall, or going from deck-to-deck, checking up on furs, making sure everyone was feeling okay. Rather than, like before, holing himself up in sickbay. And he, in turn, was having a positive effect on Bic, who, also, was getting around the ship more ... and opening up. They were both flowering in their own ways.

Aria, though, just eye-smiled at the blue bat's teasing. "You just MAY," she retorted. A continued look of brightness as she looked around. Twelve furs. Which meant two teams of six. They had ... well, Ross, herself ... and Barrow and Bic, Arianna and Ollie, Wilco and Arabella, Ezri and Jinx, and, also, Alabaster, as well as Olivia.

"How are we choosing teams?" asked Ollie, nose-sniffing and whisker-twitching. His white fur glinting, and his tail hung behind him.

"As the Captain, I am a team captain ... and Jinx will be the other. Each team MUST be half males/half femmes ... to make it physically fair. So, choose with that in mind." A breath. "And I pick first," she added smartly. "I pick Ross."

The meadow mouse just beamed. As he was prone to do.

"Shocking," Jinx teased. "Just shocking." But, of course, he went and did the same thing (and chose his mate with his first pick). "Ezri."

A few giggles.

"Wilco," was Aria's next pick.

"Alabaster."

"Arianna ... "

End result: Aria's team ... herself, Ross, Wilco, Arianna, Ollie, and Bic.

Jinx's team: himself, Ezri, Alabaster, Olivia, Barrow, and Arabella.

Aria, in her mind, immediately recognized that her weakness (her penchant, one could say) for rodents had prompted her to make such picks ... as to, perhaps, place her team at a slight disadvantage.

Arianna, too, noticed this, and whispered, "Two of our males are mice."

"I know." The Captain's bobtail flickered like a lit, white flame. Flicker-flick!

"And?" Arianna raised her brow. Her waggle ears standing tall and slender.

"What they lack in muscular bulk and aggressiveness, they make up for in speed and agility," was her confident assurance. And she eye-smiled at her fellow femme rabbit. "You will see. We shall win."

Arianna tilted her head, nodding, eye-smiling back.

Ross and Wilco already had their shirts off, exposing their muddy-brown and tan-like fur, respectively. In their bare foot-paws, too. Generally, when furs played casual sports (professional sports were more regulated, obviously), males went shirtless, while the femmes wore sports bras ... all of them in simple shorts. For when you engaged in strenuous play or activity with a body covered in fur? In the sun? Well, you overheated very quickly, so you wore as few clothes as you could get away with (without being overtly suggestive ... for, with furs, sexuality was a frequent weapon of distraction during sports-play).

Jinx tossed his shirt aside, huddling up with his group, assigning positions. The simulated football field, with the painted, white lines ... smelling fresh, grassy. And like the embers of fall warmth. A breeze was blowing, slightly chilly, to keep everyone cool enough. And big coolers of ice-water were on the side-line bench.
"Alright," Jinx said, his bold, white-striped pelt both absorbing (with the black) and reflecting (with the white) the light. "Alright, I'm quarterback."

"Why?" demanded Alabaster. He stood up straighter, as if puffing his chest out. "I believe I am able ... "

"Oh, my gosh, they're preening," Arabella said, giggling, with an amusing sort of thrill spiking her voice.

Ezri was chittering with her. Olivia just staring at Alabaster's bare upper half. His defined, furry chest, and his nipples ...

"Wish I'd brought popcorn," Ezri said. Her bushy, luxurious tail flagged in the breeze.

"We are not ‘preening'," Alabaster assured. "I simply believe I am more versatile in and out of the pocket. I should be quarterback. I do not believe, if blitzed, Jinx will be able to run from the attack ... "

"I can RUN," the skunk defended. "Look, let's have a dash, if you're that convinced. I can totally run."

"My legs are built for endurance," Alabaster countered. He cleared his throat, as if punctuating himself as the center of attention. He lifted a foot-paw. Longer, more slender than the skunk's ... and built for bolting.

"Ooh," went the two rodent femmes.

Olivia nodded her approval. "I agree. He has more attractive foot-paws."

Jinx gave a frown, sighing. "Look, can we FOCUS? I'm the team Captain, and I'm JUST as yiffy as he is, and I'M the quarterback. ALL debates are ended. Anyway, I was quarterback on my high school team ... "

"Words to swoon by," Ezri confessed dreamily to Olivia. The squirrel's angular ears cocked.

The snow rabbit just blinked. "To swoon by?" she asked.

"He was quarterback in high school," the squirrel said, nudging the snow rabbit.

Olivia blinked at the nudge.

"Quarterback. Mm. That's just ... my mate. Mm," she went. "Mm."

"Your pupils," Olivia observed, "are dilating."

"Mm-hmm," Ezri responded, eyes drinking up her skunk's bare belly and chest.

"I still do not understand. I do not understand ... "

"Heh, Jinx, I bet you would've won state if coach had put you in that last game," Arabella teased, her tufted desert tail swaying behind her. Her sandy-brown fur, whiter on the front, shone softly.

" ... why that is erotic."

"Are you saying Jinx was the back-up? No, he was the starter," Ezri assured.

"And you know this because ... "

"He told me."

"I think I remember what I did in high school," Jinx assured.

"Then you've got a leg up on most furs," Arabella said, continuing to joke.

Jinx put his muzzle in his paws. Closed his eyes. Breathed. "Alright," he whispered, and he looked back up. "Okay. Okay, let's stop it, okay? We're not gonna win this if ... "

" ... we're having too much fun?" Barrow asked. "Who thinks Jinx is taking this game too seriously?"

Everyone raised their paws. Except Ezri ... but only because she had to be on his side, no matter what.

"Look, furs, PLEASE ... come on. Now, are we gonna run the ball? Or pass?"

"We aren't really runners in this group, are we?" Barrow asked, obliging to a bit of seriousness. His fangs were showing slightly.

"I am a runner," Alabaster declared.

"So am I," was Olivia's echo.

"Well, BESIDES snow rabbits, I mean," Barrow said. "The rest of us?"

A pause. Before Arabella shyly sighed and admitted, "I was, uh, on a Furry Olympic team ... three years ago. Not the Home-world branch of the Games, but, uh, the branch for the Sierra Sector, where I'm from ... I did hurdles and long-jump. And one hundred meter dash."

"Whoa ... "

"Are you serious?" Barrow asked.

A nod.

"Did you win anything?" Ezri asked, eyes wide.

"Bronze. Twice." Her ears (smaller than those of the average mouse's) swivelled a bit, her eyes cutely brown, and her whiskers doing the twitch-twitch-twitch.

"Huh," went Jinx, impressed. "Wilco know? Were you, like, a professional athlete? How come you're in the fleet, then ... "

She didn't answer the last two questions. Only the first one. "Wilco knows me," was all she said, her whiskers still twitching.

The others were itching to press her for more, but ... obviously, the kangaroo rat was unwilling to divulge the rest. At least, not right now.

"So, you can run, Arabella?" Jinx asked.

"Run, jump," echoed the kangaroo rat, nodding. "And hop. Mm-hmm."

"Alright, Arabella's a wide receiver. She goes out long, maneuvers between the furs on the other team, finds openings ... then we hit for a gain. Can you catch?" was the next question.

"I think so," Arabella answered. "Ball-sports aren't my speciality, but ... "

"Well, alright. I'm sure you'll do fine. And you can jump higher than anyone here, so you can snatch toss-ups. Now, Ezri, you'll stay closer to the line of scrimmage. And catch shorter passes. You can, uh, zigzag."

"Zigzag?"

"Well, mouses scurry, rabbits lope ... squirrels zigzag. Unless you have a better term for it."

The squirrel didn't.

"What of us?" Alabaster asked, of himself and the other two.

"Well, Barrow will do paw-offs ... "

"Paw-offs?" A blink.

A sigh. "Like, I hold my paw out, and you take the ball off me, and then run with it ... you know? Yeah, I know, but THAT'S what it's called. Barrow, you can also help block. Snow rabbits, you help block, too, and you can be given paw-offs ... you can maneuver around furs without getting tagged?"

"I am very wily," Alabaster assured. His bobtail flicked with confidence.

This drew an eye-smile from Olivia, who looked his way ... and then looked to the grass.

"Jinx, the other team isn't even huddled or anything. They're ready to go ... maybe we are taking it a bit too seriously ... "

"We're going to win," Jinx assured.

"Hey, Ezri," said Barrow. "I got a question."

"What?"

"Football game. Your mate versus ... a tornado. Who wins?"

Olivia, brow raised, said, "Versus a tornado?"

Ezri, though, squinting in consideration, asked, "How big is the tornado?"

Arabella burst into giggle-squeaks at the exchange.

"F5. It's F5."

"That's a bit unfair. Making it an F5 right off the, uh, bat ... uh ... sorry," she said, smiling sheepishly at the pun.

"That's okay," the bat assured. "But, alright, then, F4 ... we'll make it an F4."

"This is a ‘silly' conversation," Olivia decreed.

"Oh, F4? Bah ... " A dismissing wave of her paw. And a grin. "Jinx by a touchdown."

Chuckles and chitters.

Until Jinx, flushing a bit, broke it up, shooing everyone with his tail, saying, "Let's go, let's go ... "

And, after a minute, with the teams coming together, Aria declared, "Your team kicks off first."

"What? Why?" Jinx, his competitive streak in full-flare, demanded.

"Captain's prerogative."

A sigh. "Alright ... Arabella," Jinx called. He spiraled her the ball, so she could set it up for kick-off.

So, finally, they were ready. And Arabella, with her bare, strong foot-paw, lined up, and boot-boot-booted it down the field. All the furs scrambling about. Almost comical. Every-fur moving in every-which-way, fur rustling in the simulated breeze, tails flagging, trailing, and squeaky, huffing sounds, and Ross waiting at the other end, the oblong-shaped, brown ball fall-falling ... catch!

And he made like mouses do: and SCURRIED.

Past Olivia, skidding to a halt, veering left, around Jinx, Alabaster ... cheers and cries behind him.

"Go, go, go ... "

"Stop him!"

He almost got cornered by Ezri, near the sidelines, but he banked hard to get around her, almost slipping (but keeping a secure grip on the ball), and she swatted at him with her paws, and squeaked, "I got him! I got him!"

But Ross kept going.

"You only hit him with ONE paw!"

Barrow was on the other end of the field, and was no threat, which left only Arabella, and the mouse, putting on his last steam of scurry, motor-motored and dove to the corner of the end-zone ...

... and she hopped and jumped at him.

And he dove, sniffing nose first ...

... breaking in with a falling ‘oomph' ... and the ball eventually coming loose, but not until after he'd rolled across the line. Not until after it'd been secured for the ...

" ... touchdown!" Ollie squeaked. "Whoo!"

Jinx sighed heavily, audibly. "Dammit," he grumbled.

Arabella, tangled with Ross in the grass, rolled over, panting. "G-good run," she breathed.

"Good kick," was his response.

And they both giggle-squeaked. Just because.

Aria, exchanging looks with Arianna, seemed to give a silent ‘see?' ... and she jogged down to the other end of the field.

Ross was on his back, sprawled, panting. Pant-pant-panting ... and he saw his mate's muzzle lean over him, blocking the sunlit sky. She was eye-smiling. "That was impressive," she stated, in her formal, dignified way.

"Huh ... uh, y-yeah," he breathed, licking his lips. "I know how to scurry," he decreed.

"I do not doubt it." A paw was extended.

And he took it, and she pulled him up, giving him a hug. While Wilco came and helped Arabella up.

"Mm," Ross sighed, wishing to swoon in his snow rabbit's arms ... and beaming, of course, from the accomplishment.

Jinx, arms crossed, said, "Delay of game ... come on ... "

"Jinx," Ezri said, coming up to him. "Seriously ... I didn't know you were THIS competitive." Her eyes scanned him. His half-naked body. His bare foot-paws. "Really turns me on," she whispered, and she gave a wink, filtering away.

Leaving the skunk to blink and swallow hard.

"Commander ... "

No response.

"Commander?"

"Mm?" Jinx cleared his throat, looking to Aria.

"Is your team ready for receiving the kick-off?"

"Yeah. Uh ... yeah," he said quietly, nodding.

Ross, downing a cup of water on the sidelines, hurriedly rushed back onto the field. And his team kicked it off. For them, Wilco did the kicking. His kick wasn't as deep or good as Arabella's had been, but ... to counter that, Jinx's team wasn't able to run it BACK like Aria's team had done, so ... the kick-off/return game evened out.

"They have good field position. Their own forty-seven," Aria declared, huddling with her team. "I think they will pound the ball at us with the run."

"One of the snow rabbits," Arianna agreed.

"I can't guard Alabaster. He's bigger than me," Ross squeaked.

"I will guard Alabaster," Arianna assured.

"I have Olivia," Aria added. "Wilco, you get Jinx. The rest of you, stay back ... in case they pass."

"Uh ... question?" Ollie piped in.

"Yes?" Aria asked.

"If we're in the simulation room, how ... well, how come Ross has grass and dirt stains on his foot-paws and fur?"

Aria tilted her head. Looking down. "Hmm ... "

"Hey, lazy-day furs? Delay of game!" Jinx shouted. "Five-yard penalty!"

A sigh from Bic, who said, "I think we better get into formation."

They did, and the ball was snapped to Jinx. The skunk, eying, eying, and ... pump-FAKING a pass, and then passing for real, going deep to Arabella, who snagged it, and ...

... BUMP!

Collided into her mate.

Leaving both rodents dizzied and in the grass, chittering from the throats.

"You okay?" Bic asked worriedly, rushing to them. Followed by Ross, Ollie, and the others.

"Y-yeah," Arabella stammered, blinking. And she took a deep breath. "Sorry, darling, I ... I was catching the ball over my back, wasn't looking," she confessed, "ahead of me ... "

"I was trying to go for the interception," he admitted, rubbing his head.

Barrow finally arrived, kneeling down. "Both gonna have headaches from that ... here," he said, pulling a hypo out of a portable med kit. And he gave them both a dose. "Should keep you headache-free."

"Thanks," the flying squirrel whispered. "Sorry," he whispered to his mate.

"It's okay," she smiled. "I guess we're meant to bump and grind into each other. On AND off the field."

A few giggle-squeaks.

"Does ANYONE here know how to make a GOOD joke?" Barrow asked, as he left for the sideline (to put his med-kit back on the bench).

More giggles.

"Alright, but that was a completion, right?"

"It was," Alabaster decreed. "She had possession for over a second."

"Alright, so ... first down and ten, on the twenty-six. Gain of ... well, a lot."

So, back into formation. Another play, and this time, Alabaster chugged it three yards before getting two-paw tagged ...

"Second and seven ... "

"We're well within my field goal range," Arabella assured Jinx, before the next snap.

"I'm NOT settling on a field goal," the skunk assured. "Hike!"

And, so, the furs played on. The game nowhere near done. And even in an artificial sun, it was easy to believe that the universe was, for the moment, trouble-free.