Burdens [Furry BxB]

Chapter 3 - Repercussions

It wasn't until lunch that he saw his friends again. They resided in the same area, talking to each other about their new classes and about the other students, as per usual. He managed to get a word into at least one that he sat beside.

"So now I have to pretty much teach this guy basic math. You know, the wolf in our class, Hunter? Apparently, he got the lowest grade in that stupid assessment, so now I'm stuck with him," he told his classmate. He kicked around the rocks on the ground in a small show of disdain.

"You mean that football guy?" his friend asked him. It was then added, "I don't really know who's on our teams, but I think that's the guy."

The fox nodded. "Yeah, that guy."

His friend laughed. "Good luck with that one. Just don't piss him off, that guy looks like he can punch holes in bricks."

It had not occurred to the fox that he may have been in a worse situation than before. It was true, the wolf was big, and could easily beat him up if he really wanted to. It was a difficult position to be in, but he was sure if there were any problems he could diffuse them. The rest of the conversation dragged on about things he was not concerned with.

The rest of the school seemed like a haze of which he struggled through. He managed to finish any homework he was given before the class ended. The only thing he could do now sat and wait for the end and deal with the burden he had been given.

He did not know whether the time passed by quickly because of the excitement that school would be over soon or the dread that he would have to tutor someone that, as he believed, would give him many difficulties.

He waited in front of the school. He saw a large figure making its way toward him out of the crowd, and he recognized it as the wolf. He sighed and had actually hoped that he would just not show up and had gone with his friends and partied or whatever the fox assumed it was that they did. They met, greeted, and began walking away from the school.

It was not far away, and Roger told the wolf as such. Much of their trip was in silence, with the occasional awkward attempt to liven the conversation up by Hunter. It failed as most of the fox's responses were either in the form of a short phrase or one word.

They got to the house fairly quickly. The fox unlocked the door, went inside, and closed it behind them. He walked up to his room and gestured that the wolf followed.

Upstairs, he took his shoes off, said for the wolf to do the same, as well as to place his bag against a table that Roger had to the side. He asked if Hunter was thirsty because if he was anything, he would at least want to be considered a good host.

Water was requested, and the water was retrieved. They both took their seats, the fox giving up his comfortable computer chair to the wolf, who in turn had declined, but sat atop it anyhow. They had the pieces of paper on the desk, one completed and the other not. They did not need their books, even if they had them.

"Well, it's pretty easy homework. I finished it in class, so we'll just focus on you if that's okay," Roger told the wolf. There was a nod of acknowledgement and they began to work.

However, the work was slow and tedious. The wolf struggled through the first couple of problems, which were merely an order of operations problems, and barely managed to get the right answer with a few nudges toward it. An hour passed by, then two.

The fox had his head in his paws, staring at the paper, wanting to jump up and shout what it was, as the answer stared at them. He was frustrated, thinking to himself, "I can't understand why he can't understand this. This should be really easy for anyone."

Another half-hour passed by. The fox was beginning to get hungry and it only added onto his frustration. He began to growl lowly in his throat, soft enough that the wolf could not hear it, or even if he did, he gave no acknowledgement toward it, being focused on the problems.

Roger showed him the method to solve the problems, yet they did not seem to sink in. He reworked them, gave him examples, even drew little pictures, but nothing seemed to work.

Hunter came up with an answer finally, but it was incorrect, much like the previous nine times. The fox groaned audibly, which made the wolf twitch one of his ears in response, then continued to work on it, having his solution confirmed to be incorrect. A few minutes, another incorrect answer. The fox attempted to at least give him the proper formula to work with, but it was a basic question that did not seem to be getting through to the wolf.

Ten minutes. Twenty. Roger was on the verge of pulling his fur out. He had never been quite as frustrated by another's lack of mental ability, but also had never had to deal with it. The scenario kept playing over and over in his mind, that the wolf would fail the course, and by proxy, he would be reprimanded for not putting enough effort in helping him. He was in a sinking ship.

He played more scenarios in his head. He would say some cold remark and the wolf would take it the wrong way. There would be anger. There would be a mistake. He would be injured. That was the primary reason why he had not already done so. Yet, the more he watched the wolf struggle, the closer he got to blow up.

Finally, Hunter scrawled down a few more numbers, all of which were incorrect, and the fox lost control. He leapt from his chair suddenly, refraining from flipping over the table, and shouted, "Come on, what is wrong with you? We've been at this for hours, for something that should have taken at most ten minutes. What is so god damned difficult about this?"

He expected a reaction. He received a reaction.