A Soviet's Struggle

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It had been weeks since the sisters' arrival to Baldhardt. Tests were in a few days, and most students have been studying and preparing. All Baldhardtees have chosen their respective majors, with Mariya and Silsina choosing Culinary school with a minor in business and entrepreneurship, and music theory and performance, respective to each girl. Today was Sunday, a weekend with nothing going on. Mariya woke up in a groggy-like state, her lungs working more than they should due to the gasmask's limit on breathing. The spell of sleep laid over her, her roommates sleeping peacefully in the bed next to her across the room. She fished for her pocket watch, fumbling her paws on the bedside table for a minute, before grabbing the metallic clock. Opening the watch lazily, her heavy eyes looked at the time. It read 6:26 AM. Perfect. It's the time to get out and explore.

Crawling out of bed in perhaps the most childlike way imaginable, Mariya stood up and stretched. Still in her pyjamas, which consisted of sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt; she fumbled around the dorm room, grabbing her coat and draping it over her shoulders - arms in each sleeve. She then put on one of the only pairs of socks she had, which were still sprawled out on the floor from yesterday; and her pair of shoes. Taking one last glance at her sleeping sister and suitemates, she set out the door - keys and pocket watch in hand.

The halls were long, much like a hotel would be. Dim lights spread out each 1 and 1/4th metre, in between each door, illuminating the hallway. Mariya waddled her way to the stairwell, not keen on taking the elevator, and pushed on the door. She made her way down the stairs, through the communal living space, the lobby, and out the front doors. The humid air outside hit her naked ears, which were pointed and alert. The sun had risen, lighting the sky to the bluish colour everyone knew. Clouds splattered across the sky, like the painting "Sunset over the River" by Albert Bierstadt. The ground - greyish from a rain earlier in the morning - was still drying.

Mariya huffed. Setting out into the world - this world - the world she missed.

As she walked, her eyes scanned up and down, taking in the information around her. She needed to see everything. Baldhardt Library, the Union, upperclass dorms, the Football field, the parking lots, the pavilion junction. She went everywhere - she wanted to see everything. One side of campus to the other.

Her morning stroll was rather uneventful. There was little mention of her mother anywhere, which she found peculiar. For her mother to be the so-called "Prodigy of Baldhardt", the lack of mention of her or her name was rather odd to Mariya. Nevertheless, she saw a few upperclassmen walking around; some with friends, others alone - some going to work, and others going to other dorms. It wasn't until she stumbled across the Football field did her morning get interesting.

In the Football field was a singular loner of an Animalloid. His fur white - his uniform Black and Grey, the Baldhardt colours. It took Mariya a minute, but this Animalloid clicked in her head. This Animalloid was the Polar Bear from the newspaper she read a month or so back. The one who won the championship for college football. He was practising alone, scoring goals left and right from different angles, running only to retrieve the balls.

She stood atop the slope, looking down at this lowly player. His precision was unmatched. He was good. Real good. Mariya was impressed, even if she was never really into the sports scene. She watched the Polar Bear kick the last ball to the open goal, then run across the field and collect the balls once again; carrying them back to scoring distance. As he walked back, he noticed Mariya's bulky figure watching him from atop the field, her eyes sharply focused on his every move like a predator hunting its prey.

He stopped moving, their eyes locked.

Mariya, realising her outward creepiness, began to move on, slowly walking past the field and onto the next area she wished to visit. The Polar Bear watched her, his footballs in his arms - with a curious but rather blank expression. After a while, with Mariya almost out of his sight, he called to her.