The life I thought I left | BxB Furry

Chapter 1

I slowly bring my tractor to a stop, pulling myself off with a hefty drop, causing it to shake slightly, I wipe my dirty hands and sling a white rag over my muscular shoulder, my fur splotched with occasional drops of oil and dirt, sweat lightly coating my forehead, which I dab at with the rag. I look out at the fields and smile, walking up the stairs of the bright yellow farmhouse, the shadow of the bright red barn casting a dark glance over me.

It didn't take long for me to fish my keys from my jeans, unlocking the door, I walk inside, my white fur shivering as I let out a chilled chatter from cold air hitting me hard from the humid and damp outside. I walk over to the thermostat and slowly crank it up to about 60 degrees before opening a hatch below it and disposing of the rag on my shoulder down a chute.

I find my way slowly to the stairs, walking up them wearily and slowly, I push open the door to the bathroom and grunt as I do, looking in the mirror, I take water and splash it over my dirty face, looking up, I crane my neck to notice the familiar scar on my shoulder and sigh, shaking my head, I pull my shirt from my muscular body and toss it to the floor, then removing my pants and under-garment, I step into the shower, turning on the warm water, I let it cascade down my body, having it wash my hair and fur down.

It didn't take long at all for it to reach my horns, curling the water into my face, I grab the shampoo and conditioner, slowly lathering my hair and some of my body before starting to it with a little body wash, getting the last areas I hadn't yet. I was different, at least body-wise. I had a wolf for a mother and a goat for a father, so I have the main body of a wolf except for the horns and shorter maw, as well as glowing amber eyes - call me special if need be. I guess I got the rest from my dad, like my strength, my extremely intense body heat, like if you were bundled up in like, 3 blankets, on top of a heater. Oh, and resistance against colder temperatures going all the way to -40 degrees Fahrenheit!... So it always felt warmer in the shower, outside, hell even sitting on a snowbank, so I also happened to sweat easily.

I turn off the shower after rinsing and walk out, grabbing a towel off the hook, I look into the brightly lit mirror and turned around slowly, looking at the few scars on my back, I growl and hold my hands on the counter, after wrapping my towel around my waist, and look back up. I lift my body slowly back up and dry off, walking to my room, reaching into my dresser for a pair of underwear and a clean set of jeans, I tug them on before walking to my closet and grabbing a long-sleeve shirt, I tug it on and then walk downstairs, fetching my keys and wallet from the counter, I then walked over to the kitchen and unplug my phone, a recent modeled smartphone. I walk to my car and get in quickly. 

It didn't take long for the car to warm up, then cool back down through its ventilation process, but I still waited before revving the engine of the 2020 Nissan GTR I sat it in, I pulled out of the dirt driveway and start towards the city, fields passing by quickly, soon fields turned into occasionally houses, and soon more cars lined close, large stores and shops soon replacing fields and farmhouses, roads lining every which way. I find a close parking lot and pull into an empty space, taking my illustrious time to slowly get out, making sure not to hit the car next to me, as well as nailing my own car, or scratching for that fact.

I walk up the back stairs of a well-known restaurant and walk-in, weaving my way into the back of the place, I find a small door with a sign. Speak-easy below. I read, with an arrow pointing down a set of stairs inside the door, I walk down the stairs and am met with another door, but this one had a handle, and a simple swing mechanism. A tall, sharply dressed fur stands there, a horse with tall and beefy stature, he looks me up and down before huffing."Melancholy." I say and the guard nods solemnly, opening the door with a simple swing of his arm, I walk in slowly, met by soft jazz music and exciting conversation, people stationed at fancy tables, lounging areas and a large wrap-around bar that took the entire perimeter of the room, leaving merely this entrance, a fire escape, and restroom doorways available on the edges, the back wall fitted with a large stage that had a well-known and local jazz group that performed most nights, with a small dance-floor in the front. 

I walk to the bar, sitting, I hold up two fingers, then slide over a card, the bartender nodded with a smile and retrieves a large, gold-topped bottle, undoing the cap, he pours a glass of the liquid and drops in a medium-sized, square-ish ice cube before sliding it my way, I catch it with ease and take a sip before looking over. 

"Azuma?"