"Brigid, you need to calm down right now," said the gravelly voice on the other end of the line. "It's not that big of a deal." Eligh sat at his desk at town hall, phone to his ear. The air conditioning unit was working at max capacity in the wake of the sweltering heat wave that had settled over the eastern half of the country.
Down the street, just two blocks away from where the grizzly worked away his day, was the local coffee shop. Toh's Beans was every bit as trendy as Starbucks but without all the pomp and inflated coffee prices. Plus, they served cucumber sandwiches, which Brigid had been happily munching away on up until that red-eyed wolf entered the building.
"What should I do, Eligh? I'm not wearing a bra!" She whispered into the phone, one hand covering the mouthpiece. She shifted into an uncomfortable position in her seat, trying to hide her identity before the wolf could turn away from the register and see her.
The bear laughed in such a tone that contradicted his giant, menacing stature. "Relax, girl; you got your button-up, right? Just cover yourself if you're that concerned." He paused for a second, then said, "Aren't straight males attracted to nipples anyhow? Why not--"
"Eligh, fuck off."
Brigid had always been a remarkable example of her species. Though there were the odd exceptions, as with any species--mostly cosmetic procedures--foxes were notoriously known for their slim, slender bodies. Her sisters had all been prime examples of what a slinky fox-like body should be, as was their mother and her mother before her. But puberty sought to send her down a different genetic path and make Brigid the exception, and it did so in a number of very noticeable ways.
All through the turbulent, hormonal stage of life that was puberty, she'd bought multiple bras; she quickly found the old ones becoming constricting and uncomfortable. By the age of eighteen, she was already wearing D-cup bras, far larger than any other in her family, except for Uncle Dwight, but he never technically counted.
Had Brigid gone into the stealth soldier services as her father and great-grandmother had, her figure would have betrayed any ability to quickly and quietly slink around. Her hips had become more and more pronounced as she headed towards adulthood, and by the time she hit full maturity at twenty-one, she'd have a well-developed figure and a pair of breasts that had made her both the envy of her female friends and sight to behold by the rest.
Because of how she perceived herself and the way her body had developed, she'd become overly protective of showing anything off. Occasionally, she'd have worn lowcut tank tops if the mood caught her right--namely when she'd hope to garner the attraction of certain males--but outside of that, even her bathing suits were modest and typically covered by dark t-shirts of some sort.
A late-night gal-pal talk with Eligh revealed her reasonings for being the way she was when the subject of "Have you ever sent nudes?" came up(to which Eligh replied, "dozens of times")
As it turned out, Brigid "Brigs" Ashtear, the foul-mouthed, abrasive Red Fox, was a very sentimental, romantic beast and had grown up thankful for the gift puberty had given to her. Eligh had even asked once, drunkenly, if it had been a result of some sort of mental conditioning by her piers, to which the fox had assuaged his concerns by saying, "Fuck off with that, my family were supportive; Though my sisters were bitches about it, my mother was of the mentality that if you have it, flaunt it and that I should be proud of my body,"
But the fox had different plans. She'd never been outwardly open about it, but she was of the romantic sort. She had always felt that The One was out there and that if she were just patient enough, he'd come along, That he'd be accompanied by some sort of sign telling her that this beast, whatever he may be, was her lifelong mate. And until that sign showed itself, she'd conceal the most coveted parts of her body from all eyes, no matter the situation.
It was to be for his eyes and his eyes only.
That, of course, only applied to the straight males in her life; her girlfriends and gay friends have seen her nude to some degree or another. Most were impressed; a few were envious.
Several relationships later, most ended out of sexual frustration from the male because she wasn't willing to be intimate, and they weren't willing to commit. Others ended simply because she realized a month or two into the courtship that she just didn't have the sort of feeling she expected to have for them.
Taking all that into account now, the fact that she somehow left the apartment this morning without a bra was the most frustrating thing to have happened to her since the fucking rainstorm.
"Good luck, girl, you got this," Eligh said as he hung up, leaving her mostly alone, sitting in the booth overlooking the three-way intersection heading south out of town.
Brigid quickly untied the shirt from around her waist, then slid it out from under her ass and the back of the chair and quickly slipped her arms into the holes, buttoning the front until it covered most of her chest. It was a thick flannel too, so it was going to be a bitch walking home in this.
And then the wolf turned away from the counter and left the shop without so much as a glance around—two coffees in hand. Brigid sat there in a state of almost disbelief as if he was SUPPOSED to have noticed her just now. She craned her neck a little to see if she could see who the other drink was for, but he'd gone in the opposite direction and quickly disappeared out of sight.
Try as she might, she knew her evening was going to be plagued with the question of who the extra drink was for.
Brigid whipped out her phone and shot a quick text to Eligh that read only, "Buy ice cream."
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