Wolf's Weakness

Chapter 11

                Wolf and Panther's meeting adjourned and they proceeded to part ways for the remainder of their respective evenings to both reflect on what just happened. Panther returned to his room to prepare for his immediate departure while Wolf went about coping in his own way; coping by sitting his fuzzy grey ass down in a barstool and committing to his vices. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was reminded that they had a captive who may need tending to but ultimately he didn't care.

"Heh... How do I even end up in these messes?" Wolf to himself out loud, examining the cherry of his cigarette and how the smoke burned off of it. He always wanted to learn how to blow smoke rings but never found himself with enough time. In his other paw he held a shot glass full to the brim with whiskey, the bottle it originated from resting on the table in front of him. The fancy label gave away the fact that the bottle was an expensive one, a brand that he was saving for a rainy day. Well, nothing he'd encountered to this point was as rainy as tonight was.

The canine was the owner of many expensive kinds of liquor. Mostly rums, whiskeys and bourbons. Stuff with a good flavor that he could drink straight, like a man. Most of the bottles on the higher end of the price spectrum in his possession were things he'd stolen from opposing ships during raids. Short-lived criminals prized themselves on flash material wealth, what greater irony than to steal it from them?

"What the fuck happened to my crew?" Wolf asked himself before deciding to shoot it. He took a deep breath before tossing the shot glass back, taking all of it into his muzzle and swishing it around for a moment before swallowing. He used an (admittedly) manicured claw to dig the cork out of the bottle it came from, wasting no time in preparing another shot. The amount he'd already drank tonight would put most non-alcoholics on the floor. "Andrew, Pigma, Leon, Panther... I let them all down." He sighed, tail drooped down below the barstool and laying stationary. "I hope those mutts are taking care of you, Leon..."

Wolf found himself stuck at the bar for many hours, sitting and reflecting instead of preparing like he knew he should. Life had just been so much easier not even a week ago, in fact the last few years as a whole were probably the most enjoyable of his life; just coasting on their fortune and working jobs that they wanted to, not ones they needed to. But he knew he had taken it all for granted, you can't work in this line of business and not expect somebody to come knocking at the door with more problems. He'd grown complacent in the face of vast wealth and social stature, something that had clearly come back to bite the whole team in the rear and could disrupt everything he'd worked so hard to build.

It was late in the night but eventually Panther emerged from his room to try and scavenge for a bit of food. He was mostly packed and ready to leave; the feline had been a transient most of his life and was used to the necessity of traveling lightly. On him he kept few items of sentiment, most of his space was occupied by clothing, weapons and toiletries (he had to keep his fur a very specific way for the ladies). As soon as he stepped foot into the common area however he was greeted with an unfamiliar sight- his former captain passed out drunk at the ship's bar. Wolf was a large dog who could hold his liquor very well so seeing him blacked out like this was quite rare, if not unheard of. Having been together for the last few years he'd only ever seen it happen one or two other times, both during their drinking competitions that Panther almost always lost.

Hunched over the countertop and drooling in his own arm, it was quite honestly the most vulnerable that Panther had seen him. This was the bottom of the barrel for Wolf; he was wearing nothing but boxers and a black tank top with liquor spilled all over the place. It was clear that whatever was happening to him it was taking a serious toll on his psyche. The sight made Panther's ears flatten in pity; he dropped the bag he was carrying onto the ground and approached, trying to decide what he could do to help.

Settling on something a bit bold, the feline knelt down next to Wolf's barstool and scooped him up into his thick, ropey arms. One arm supported his upper back while the other held him from under his legs. He took it slowly, trying to avoid either waking him up or getting vomit on his clothes- it was impossible to tell which would come first at this point. It didn't seem to matter though, Wolf's head was lulled back and he was comatose levels of unresponsive. "There you are, you heavy old mutt." Panther spoke, he grinned as he thought about how hard Wolf would kick his ass if he knew what was happening, feeling his jaw still sore from the punch earlier.

Wolf had a bit of heft to him but it was nothing that Panther couldn't handle, what was tough to handle however was the permeating stench of booze that accompanied. Without a whole lot of difficulty he carried the alcoholic down the hallway back to his room, being careful to not hit his head on the doorway when walking through. With a bit of a grunt he lowered the captain back down, depositing him safely into his bed. Panther pulled the sheets up over his drunken friend and sighed, at this point it was unlikely that the dog would awaken by the time Panther had to depart. They were both absolutely terrible at goodbyes though, so maybe this way was best.

Looking him over now it was obvious how true to his species Wolf was. While he wasn't as bad as he lead people to believe he certainly had the key personality traits of a wolf; tough, stubborn, arrogant and vicious. A combination that meant he was unlikely to ever reconsider the choices he made today. Underneath those descriptors, however, anybody who spent enough time around him knew how passionate Wolf was about his team and those who were loyal to him. Everything that he did he did for the team. Supplied them with whatever they needed, helped any way he could and in cases like this, was willing to risk his life for them. Despite their minor squabbles Panther respected him more than any other man in the galaxy.

"...You won't be awake by the time I leave, Wolf." Soft words escaped the feline's lips as he lowered himself down to Wolf's bedside. "I suppose that means I must say this to you now. I understand that you only have my safety in mind, but know that as long as I live I won't let you roam this galaxy alone. The Black Rose and I aren't finished with you yet."

After he finished speaking the feline simply stayed at the bedside, naught but silently reflecting on what was to come in the future. There he stayed until the motion sensor automatically turned out the lights.

Wolf jolted awake, another one of his drunken nightmares causing him to toss the covers aside and gasp for air. His heart pounded in his chest but he was quickly brought back down to the reality of the situation, finding himself still on his ship and arguably safe for the time being. His vision was hazy and his head felt like it wanted to split in half, both feelings that he was intimately familiar with. Despite his spotty memory, however, he distinctly didn't recall ever returning to bed. It perplexed him until he spotted something new on his bedside table. A single red rose, pinned upright into the wood. Suddenly it all made sense.

"Panther you goddamn queer..."