[ 9:30am, Advrik’s House ]
“That’s right, around two or three… Yeah, I know it’s too early for dinner… Yes, there will be pumpkin pies, Brigid. I’m getting ready to throw two of them into the oven right now… Apple Cider? Uhhh—“ The wolf hurried over to the fridge, his thick paws thumping against the kitchen floor. “Yeah, it’s here… And yeah, there will be fresh coffee, too.”
Roasting slowly but steadily, atop the counter inside an electric roasting pan were the breast and two giant drumsticks of Gaben, the giant Turken that Advrik and Brigid had sleighed for a nearby farmer after the beast had escaped its enclosure and went on a rampage. The farmhands from Oldhill had shown up on Advrik’s door that evening with a load of meat, gizzards included, that had been taken from the monster’s body. The wolf, having greatly underestimated the sheer amount of meat that would come off the creature, hurried out to K-Mart in search of the cheapest chest freezer he could find, something that had been his only hope of preserving the spoils of the hunt for the weeks and months to come.
Shortly after 9am, the phone rang from the living room coffee table. The small ranch-themed piece of furniture sat before Advrik’s big plush couch and beneath the towering presence of his fifty-inch television set. Brigid had been on the other line, wanting to cement the day’s plans with Advrik.
Eligh of course, would be joining the fox and wolf as the office would be closed on Thursday and Friday. Desmond had agreed to meet up after initially rejecting the offer, citing the idea of a massive gathering of the boarding house residents to be disgustingly unacceptable. The real curveball, however, had come in the form of Callista Reign inviting herself upon learning of the gathering. Not that Advrik would have any objection to having the lion over. She, too, was a friend after all, and he still felt responsible for the shock she experienced over the summer.
The holiday parade trekked on through the streets of New York as the noontime hour quickly approached. The floats and balloons were becoming increasingly more festive in appearance, with the Rockettes about to put on their show in front of Macy’s.
Hearing the name of the dance group over his TV’s impressive sound system caught the wolf’s attention amid the flurry of increasingly kinetic activity within the kitchen, freezing him in his tracks as the recollection of Brigid’s revelation came back to him.
She liked to dance and sing. Her revealing that she used to film the parades just to re-watch the Rockettes had struck a chord with the wolf in a way that amplified his fondness for the fox in ways that nigh on hurt! The hardened, make-a-sailor-blush with her fowl mouth, Hot Topic attire-wearing cover that she tried to put on wasn’t always the most effective, and revelations like that only thinned the fabric of the veil that much more.
And he knew if he ever told another soul about it, she’d castrate him faster than he could blink.
As the group of girls clad in short, frilly Santa-themed dressed kicked and danced about to a jazzy rendition of “Rocking Around the Christmas Tree”, the wolf scurried back to the kitchen as the egg timer went off, signaling that the eggs, surprisingly, had finally reached their time limit in the boiling water.
The wolf had opted for a three-pot crockpot approach to the warming of the vegetables and gravy, freeing up the stovetop for other necessities that, in hindsight, as the wolf stood over the two dozen hard-boiled eggs, lamented that such smaller activities could have been done the day before. Had he only decided not to have that Star Wars movie marathon…
“And here comes Santa Claus!” roared the narrator from the living room as the jolly old fat man in red rolled through Time Square atop a giant sleigh pulled by deer-like monsters. A walrus was holding the reigns this year, a rather fitting image, Advrik thought, compared to the elephant that played Santa the previous year.
“We here in New York would like to wish you and your family happy holidays as the season has now officially begun. And—“ The television went dark as Advrik hit the power button. Tossing the remote aside, he kneeled beside the fresh-cut Christmas tree that stood beside the front-facing bay window and plugged the cord into the wall.
The holidays really have officially begun. My first holiday season in Brickhedge, he thought as he gazed out the window at the empty streets, most beasts at home or out of town with family for dinner.
“Gonna make this one to remember.”
[ Later, around 2:30pm ]
Why do we eat dinner so early on such a day, the wolf wondered to himself as he cut the heat from the roasting turken and stirred the gravy. Brigid would be here shortly, along with Eligh. Callie and Des would arrive as soon as they could.
The house smelled like a giant flaming turken had rampaged through a Christmas tree farm as the scent of the tree(bolstered by a similarly scented wax melt) fought an invisible battle with the greasy smell of roasting turken flesh in a swirling tempest unseen by all senses but smell.
Perhaps it’s for the satisfying walk one gets to take after indulging in such a spread of food, he answered his earlier question, glancing at the cornucopia of food on display: Turken gravy from scratch, Green beans slow cooked in borh grease that had been drained off the ham that the wolf had enough hindsight to do the previous day. Buttery mashed potatoes. Turken stuffing that wasn’t actually stuffed in the monster due to the sheer size of the creature’s body. The homemade pumpkin pies rested in their place atop the stove. The custard filling consisting of sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, and cloves had stiffened up in the baking process, creating the beautiful, glorious image one always conjures up in their mind when the words ‘Pumpkin pie’ are said.
And sitting amidst it all, golden brown and complete with unnecessary garnishes, was the roasted turken breast. It sat atop a serving platter in the middle of the table as the centerpiece, acting as the king to all else.
Snapping a quick photo of the spread, he slipped his phone back into his pocket and grabbed himself a cup of coffee before stepping out onto the porch to await his guests.
Outside, the rain still fell and the air had become increasingly closer as the day progressed. Advrik surveyed the town as the street lamps started to chime to life early, then fixed his sights on the little raised garden bed he’d built but never used. Promising himself that he’d at least get some sort of vegetable growing in there this coming year.
He sipped at his coffee, a mellow breakfast roast mingling with a pumpkin spice creamer from the local farm. A glimpse of an object moving in his direction caught his eye. Two figures, actually, one towering over the smaller, slender one as they stepped out onto the street from the only three-story-tall apartment building on Main.
Eligh! Brigid!
Then, from his right appeared a smaller, fatter creature. Had to be Desmond. He was the only beast in town that when he said he didn’t care what others thought of him, he actually meant it as apparent by the bright yellow raincoat he wore.
Finally, almost as if on cue, a pair of headlights blinked into life from down the way as Callista’s RAV-4 appeared at the intersection between Potato and Tomato Street. The wolf smiled, his crimson eyes almost tearing up as his emotions threatened to overrun him.
[ Dinnertime ]
Advrik couldn’t help but beam as his friends filed into the home he had worked so hard at renovating throughout the spring and summer. The amount of trash, dirt, grime, and mold (among other things) that needed to be eliminated and tossed out at every corner had been utterly ludicrous. The fact that Old Man Crenshaw, as he had been affectionately named, had abandoned the otherwise picturesque property had become a sort of local legend upon the townsfolk Advrik had learned as he investigated the previous owner. One beast had claimed Crenshaw had moved to the bayou, met and married a Sasquatch, and had three kids.
The legend continues to this very day.
“To not be heard of by anybody,” said an old opossum who seemed to harbor some animosity towards the previous owner but wouldn’t divulge any details the wolf hadn’t already heard.
“Well, whatever the reason for Crenshaw’s disappearance, I think it’s probably safe to say that it had been for the best looking at the faces currently sitting at the table,” Callista stated, spooning a bite of gravy-drenched turken into her mouth. She wore a tight-fitting top that perfectly outlined her upper torso, not trying to hide the outline of her bra in the slightest.
Desmond, sitting as far away from the lion as he possibly could simply shrugged his shoulders as he stuffed another yeast roll into his mouth. Besides a brown sweater, the mole’s usual attire was in place.
Eligh took a huge slice of cold ham, chewed it twice, and then chased it with an equally large spoonful of mashed potatoes. How the bear could eat so ravenously and still keep his beard relatively clean the entire time was a miraculous feat. “I’ll second that. I haven’t personally seen anything in Crenshaw’s records that could shine any light on the whole ordeal, but considering how his carelessness had led to all of us coming together like this…” He glanced over at Brigid, who had been sopping up some loose gravy with a piece of a biscuit, “I don’t think I, nor especially ol’ Brigs here, would have it any other way.
“Like hell, I wouldn’t! Took damn near every bit of gravy on my plate just to make those biscuits edible. What the fuck happened there, my guy?!” Brigid said, her tone laced with a playful venom. She wore that brown shirt that fit her body oh so right and the dark brown corduroy pants from their first date.
“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that,” Advrik replied, “I didn’t have time to make my own biscuits, so I opted for the frozen stuff…” He trailed off as he forced the end of his fork into the last morsel of biscuit on his plate. Gushing wasn’t something the wolf had been akin to, mainly because he never had anybeast or anything to gush about, but the irresistible urge welling up within to do so was getting harder and harder to ignore.
“So, Des, I noticed you wearing little mittens of sorts on your tentacles as you were walking over here. Do they shrink when—“ The lioness was quickly cut off as Desmond flipped her off while reaching for another biscuit. Callista shot him a quick look that screamed, “Well fuck me then, hurry up with it”.
As the beasts gathered around the feasting table’s plates began to empty, one in particular remained full. Eligh, fueling his massive form, had constantly piled helping after helping onto his plate. “I can only hope I find a man eventually that can cook like this because wow, Advrik, if you weren’t already taken, I might’ve actually taken a pass at you.”
For the first time that evening, Desmond spoke: “That would be a first for him, too. Take that as a huge compliment, wolf, because you aren’t getting any from me.
Brigid had rested both her hands on her lap, her breasts being squeezed lightly between her arms, pressing the straps of her bra tight enough against the fabric to see the outline for the first time. She laughed lightly at the mole’s remark. No matter how grim and abrasive the fox often tried to make herself out to be, it was a simple fact of nature that she was adorable as all hell, and both Advrik and Callista were noticing her glowing presence(s) at that very moment.
[ Dessert ]
A short while later, after some further bonding time over a game of Cards Against Humanity in the living room, the group returned to the kitchen for the moment Brigid had been secretly clamoring for: Dessert!
Pouring herself a cup of the fresh coffee that had been brewed after dinner, she pulled out a chair and sat next to Advrik.
On the table was one of the pumpkin pies the wolf had baked for the occasion. On the surface, the pie looked like any other homemade pumpkin pie. Deep, dark orange-brown custard surrounded by a crust that may have sat just a tad bit too close to the broiler and had begun to blacken just a bit.
“I hope you all will enjoy this as much as you did dinner. It’s an original recipe of mine that I’ve kind of been fine-tuning over the years, so—“
“Will you cut the goddamn pie already, please?!” Brigid barked, her anxiousness no longer a secret.
“Yes, ma’am,” Advrik said, defeated, as he ran a knife through the crust and broke it before slicing cleanly through the custard. He repeated this several times until the pie was cut into eight slices.
“Listen to these two. Already sounding as if they’re married,” Callista remarked, head resting in the palm of her hand while her green hair hung over the table. “It’s sweet, really. I’m kind of with Eligh on this one. It’s a shame the fox already got her claws in you.” She finished with a wink to Brigid, who caught it and replied.
“Hey listen, you two: The minute wolf-boy over here fucks up, I will cut him loose. After that, he’s free game.” She said with a playful jab to the wolf’s ribs, whose expression was a mix of terror and uncertainty.
The reception to the pie was nothing short of glowing, with each beast sharing their favorite aspects of the homemade dessert. Even Desmond chimed in, citing the prominent vegetable-like taste of the pumpkin coming through as it did, making it stand out in the world of pumpkin pies. Brigid complimented the smooth, creamy texture of the custard itself, citing that the outward appearance of the pie absolutely betrayed the dessert itself. Eligh echoed Desmond’s statement while adding that the burn from the ginger added a nice finishing touch.
And Brigid, well, Brigid’s silence said everything the wolf needed to hear. A smile had accompanied each bite. A smile that Advrik couldn’t help but bask in as he watched her enjoy the dessert he had baked with her in mind, knowing her love for pumpkin. He’d kept the existence of his recipe a secret from the fox, choosing to reveal it now as a gift of sorts.
“That was pretty fucking great, wolf.” She said as she laid down her fork, her eyes darting to the remaining three slices in the dish. “I would not be averse to trying a second piece with some whipped cream this time.”
“And I wouldn’t want to deprive you of that,” He placed another slice on her plate, then retrieved the whipped cream from the fridge. “Any for anybeast else; There’s a second pie here if you want seconds.”
The day continued on as the five friends enjoyed each other’s presence, talking about Thanksgivings long passed. What they were like with the family back home. When they realized that the topic may have become a sensitive one for Advrik, it was Desmond who had been the one to quickly change the course by suggesting Advrik share his recipe online. A suggestion that quickly ricocheted off of Brigid, Callista, and Eligh in a wave of encouragement, urging the wolf on, insisting that the world deserved to taste his festive dessert, especially in these dire times.
“I’ll… I’ll think about it.” And that was all that was said on that matter, as the subject changed to plans for Christmas and whether or not Advrik or anyone else in their unique little pack had something special up their sleeves for that, too.
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