"Another body was discovered in an alleyway yesterday, just a block away from The Spyre, making for the fourth case in just two months," said the reporter as she read the headlines off the prompter in front of her as the noontime news rolled on. "The victim was 27-year-old Bianca Noir; she had last been seen leaving the office of Fenrir Ghaleon just a few nights ago by a colleague who declined to reveal their identity. A PR spokesperson of GhalCo reported that Ms. Noir had only just returned from maternity leave this past week and that her sudden and tragic death has left an open wound in the company."
The small flatscreen TV hung in the corner of the waiting room of Brickhedge Medical, formally known as "Doctor Taylor's", a change that Callista was all too eager to make when she took up the position of local GP in place of the retired salamander at the end of last winter.
It'd taken some time, but she began to see her patient list expand as the older, uncertain townies began to see her worth as positive word got around.
In fact, her list of patients had nearly tripled all around since Pride Fest, her first public outing in something other than a halter vest or her scrubs. She knew she'd turned several heads, both straight and queer alike. Male, female, and other, she'd garnered more than enough interest as she flaunted her well-developed body around town that day in naught but a bikini bottom and silk blouse draped.
Oh, she remembered it all, right down to the point that giant antlered wolf-monster somehow snuck into town and literally scared the piss out of her. She had screamed so hard that she nearly blew her voice out, something she had never come even remotely close to doing, even as she parachuted out of a plane during spring break of 2014.
The question of how no other beast had seen that horrific abomination standing there plagued her to this day, but none so more than the image of the creature itself. No monster in any bestiary she'd studied since had featured a being even remotely similar to it.
Had it not been for that sweet little purple fox and her stupidly popping one of her friend's Xanax into her mouth when she did, Callista may have been in a straight jacket right now.
The door to the waiting room swung open, and out popped the nurse, a friendly-looking raccoon with punkish green hair. "Brigid, the doctor will see you now." He said, his voice light and sweet sounding.
"Hell's bells, I was here before her!" screeched an all too familiar voice at Brickhedge Medical.
Leif mustered up the best fake smile he could find and said, "Your appointment is right after hers, Mrs. Oniker. We'll be right with you, I promise." He said as the purple fox sitting opposite the little grey mouse stood up, gathering her things. The raccoon and fox regarded each other with quick "what the fuck" expressions as the black-haired fox disappeared through the doorway for her pre-screening.
The old mouse sporting the 'Grump 2024' shirt just hissed and turned her head away.
The fox stopped and turned to the nurse as he shut the door and simply said, "What a bitch," and then stepped up onto the scale.
Leif smiled and replied, "Always."
Several minutes later, Callista removed the chart from the pocket outside the door and, reading the patient's name, eagerly turned the handle and entered. She was greeted immediately with a shout of joy and a big hug from the much shorter beast that had, up until now, been reading through an old issue of Cosmo.
"Brigid! I'm so happy to see you again! How have you been?" Callista asked in a joyous tone. The fox had been her savior that day, even if she had to give a lecture once she recovered to never, ever shove any sort of medication down another beast's throat without proper knowledge beforehand.
"Fuckin-A, Callista! I have so much to tell you about. It's unreal!" Said the fox excitedly as she plopped back down onto the sofa. "I've thought about info dumping you with it all over text but thought better of it. What with us not having known each other all that long and all and--"
"Calm down there, sweetie! You're as excited as a schoolgirl, I swear." Callista smiled, placing a hand on the fox's shoulder as she took up the stool beside her, turning around to the PC, and bringing up her patient's file. "But before that, let's get your check-up out of the way, okay? Business first."
Callista looked down at the smaller beast who was sitting at the edge of the sofa, her tail wagging behind her and making swishing noises as it rubbed against the fabric. The fox was wearing a cute little outfit made up of a tight, pale yellow off-the-shoulder shirt, a big matching hair ribbon, and stylishly torn black jeans. She felt some guilt, thinking about how just a little tug downwards would be all it took to reveal the tops of the fox's breasts. And where were her bra straps?
She shook her head and continued, "So what brings you in to see me all of a sudden, Ms. Ashtear? Surely it's not to gossip?" She said, eyes quickly darting to and from the fox's blouse. As cold as it was in here, if the fox were indeed not wearing a bra, then she'd be poking against the fabric of that shirt. Curse her horniness, she thought.
The fox had raised both hands up and into fists, looking like an eager pup ready to tell their guardian about the cool bug they found. "I found him!" She happily declared, "I found him, and now, ever since, I've had these weird feelings in my chest, and it is really starting to scare me. Eligh suggested I come, so I came. Please tell me I'm not about to have a heart attack or anything like that, doc."
Callista couldn't help but be enamored by the fox's behavior. She wasn't much older than the woman, but the fox was acting like a teenager that had just won the lottery, or-- "Wait, 'found' who?" She said as she removed the stethoscope from the wall hook.
"Advrik! That wolf I told you about, you know? The one that somehow lived in the same little asscrack town as we do but has managed to avoid me for four months straight?"
"Advrik? Advrik Drahcir, a Gray Wolf?" The lioness said as she stuck the two earpieces into her ears and scooted her stool over to the elevated examining chair. "Pop up here," she said, patting the paper-covered seat.
The fox's ears dropped as the words came out of Callista's mouth. "Y-You know him?" She said, suddenly hesitant as she climbed up onto the seat.
"Sure do," the lion replied. "He's a patient of mine, though that's all I can really say. Doctor/patient confidentiality, you know?" She said as she moved closer, placing the flat piece against Brigid's chest. While she listened to the fox's heart, she felt her own heart rate begin to grow erratic as she moved the pad around Brigid's chest.
Callista leaned back, removing the stethoscope from her ears, and said, "I don't hear anything out of the norm, Brigid. We could take your blood pressure and do some lab work, but your heart sounds fine. Are you experiencing this feeling right now?"
"Yes!! It's like a bizarre fluttering sensation that starts here, "she pointed to her clavicle and then traced her hand straight down to her belly. "It flairs up randomly and makes it hard to breathe sometimes."
It only took a minute of rolling around the info the fox had given about her condition, along with the extra tidbits about having 'found him', for Callista to come up with a diagnosis.
She couldn't believe what she was about to have to tell a thirty-something-year-old.
* * *
"Fucking 'tummy butterflies', are you kidding me, Callista?! Aren't I too fucking old to be experiencing something like that?' read the text that had been awaiting Callista on her personal phone upon locking up the office for the evening, waving goodbye to her nursing crew.
Leif, who had found his boyfriend waiting for him outside with a bag of cheap gummy worms and a soda from the nearby machine, embraced the opossum with a big hug and a kiss on the cheek before waving his boss goodbye.
She'd felt a bit envious of him then; to have someone who cared for him enough to wait around outside his work at quitting time with a gift, no matter how small, was something she felt she would want at some point in her life. She had never even thought about needing something like that in her life, yet right now at this very moment, it didn't sound too bad.
But then, a good rough fucking sounded even better.
Ellie had failed to get back to her, which meant she was likely out of town again and didn't have immediate access to her phone, not that it'd done her any good anyway. The doberman was good about shooting off lewds to help Callista through some of her more strenuous nights alone, but that said, the two were merely friends with benefits; Booty Calls, they called them at some point in time.
Ellie's booty wasn't answering, so she needed a backup tonight and she needed it bad. She didn't consider her overactive libido a curse but damned if it didn't interfere with her mind on some days.
Pushing her way through the entrance of Fingal's Pub, the seafoam blue lioness strode across the floor with far more confidence and know-how than she did the first time she came here, way back on that night she met Elliot the Doberman.
There were far fewer beasts here this night, which was odd considering it was a Friday, and there wasn't any rain in the forecast.
She took up a seat closest to where Fingal, the bartender, stood, endlessly polishing a mug in your typical bartender fashion. "Where is everybeast, Fing?" She asked, looking around. There was a quiet couple sitting face to face over in the corner, a rather large boar sitting at the bar's elbow, his hat pulled down over his face. She immediately recognized it as the local butcher, though.
"Aye, ye got me, lass. Ah haven't seent it this dead in here since Christmas Eve," He said in his raw Irish accent, "Ain't make a lick 'o sense it doesn't,"
"Everyone's over at the school gymnasium..." A tired, already buzzed voice said, speaking up seemingly from the ether. "Emergency meeting was called about two hours ago, sounded important." They burped, signaling the end of their statement.
Fingal and Callista both craned their heads around the side of the bar but failed to locate the source until the warthog raised a hand and pointed downward.
Laying across an entire bench seat was a skunk dressed in a light blue denim USPS outfit, complete with tight-fitting shorts that created an enticing skin indentation around her thighs.
"Aye, Gwendolyn, ah forgot yeez was even hur," he laughed, literally sounding like how one would think the word "guffawhawhaw" would sound if one were to read it out loud.
"Yeeeeup, still--" she hiccuped, then belched, clearly drunk, "still here, Fingal. 'boutta leave though,"
Callista rose from her stool and stepped over to the local mail carrier who had been struggling to rise. She kneeled and placed her hand on the skunk's forehead, "Well, if it isn't Gwen, the mail carrier. If this is any indication of how you end some shifts, I can understand why you see fit to keep delivering the old doctor's mail to my office." She laughed, slightly amused at the skunk's inebriated state. As a medical professional, she wasn't going to allow the drunk skunk to drive.
"Eyy, relax, doc-hic!-I'm just gonna walk it off after a few hours..." The skunk's view as she opened her emerald eyes had been slightly obscured by the silvery bangs that hung over her face. Still, the sight of the lioness before her, her green hair tied back in a thick ponytail, had done more for sobering her up than any homemade concoction ever had.
"Did anyone ever tell you..." she choked down another belch, suddenly feeling self-conscious about the beauty that kneeled before her, "that you... you..." The momentary sober sensation had quickly lapsed as she felt face forward, right into Callista's cleavage. A predicament that under any other circumstance would have been fun, but here and now, doing anything would not only be taking advantage of a beast that is clearly intoxicated but would also be in direct conflict with her role as a doctor.
"Fuuuuck." She silently whispered to herself as she helped the skunk to her feet.
Out under the pale moonlight, the streets of Brickhedge were quiet save for a car or two heading out onto the highway. The huge spotlights outside the gymnasium were turned on and beaming upwards, something they only did for town meetings. Callista looked on, the inebreiated skunk hanging from her shoulder with tears forming in her eyes.
"Hey, Gwen... What's wrong? We're alone, far away from the pub. You can tell me."
The skunk sniffled and was quiet for a few steps more. "I have two pieces of wisdom for you, doc..." She sobbed, a teardrop falling from her eye, glistening against a passing car's headlights before it silently smacked into the sidewalk. "Don't ever fall in love with someone and keep quiet about it; Put that shit-hic!-out there and let it be known. Good or bad, don't be afraid of whatever the outcome ends up being; That fear will eat you up, and then once it's too late to share your feelings..."
Callista smiled but knew immediately that she couldn't relate, having never actually been in love with another beast herself. She found out in her late teens that the lust she felt was for the act of sex itself, not a yearning for any companionship beyond that which was needed to fulfill her needs. Sure, it had garnered her some nasty nicknames around the school in her senior year, but she found once she made it to college that sex was looked upon more respectfully.
And it was from there that she embraced her love for the act and perfected it, even using it at times to benefit her. She owned her sexuality and wielded it as a weapon. And like any good weapon wielder, she knew exactly when and where to use it.
"And the second piece of wisdom, Gwen?" She finally asked warmly.
"Always remember where you parked your car before going on a heartbreak binge!"
The lioness smiled and hefted the skunk further up onto her shoulder, ignoring the fact that Gwen's left breast and her own right breast were smooshing against each other at this very moment. "All right, I don't think you need to be alone tonight. Let's get you back to my place and get you comfortable.
* * *
The following morning, Gwen awoke in an unfamiliar room in an unfamiliar bed, wearing an unfamiliar extra-large shirt over her work uniform. Beside her, on the nightstand, was a handwritten note and a bottle of pills.
In a panic, she quickly reached for the note and opened it up.
"Dear Gwen, the Mail Carrier,
You were dead-ass drunk at Fingal's last night, and from the way you were talking, you were in a really moody place. As the town's leading medical professional (AKA: The only medical professional), I couldn't just ignore you. I hope it's okay that I brought you back to my place and fitted you with one of my overly large nightshirts. I had hoped to be here when you awoke, but alas, duty called, and I had to make a house call this morning. I left you with some Goody's Hangover pills, a bottle of orange juice, and some breakfast in the fridge. Feel free to help yourself.
~ Callista Reigns, MD.
P.S. I'll keep what you said in mind. xoxo"
Before the sharp, searing white hot pain of the hangover pierced her skull, she rubbed her temples with both hands and asked herself, "The fuck did I say to her last night?"
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