Sitting at the table were four were-lions in their fursona’s; along with two were-rabbits and a werewolf. With everyone but Nate in their fursona, it looked like an odd gathering. Sitting next to Peter Talbot was Helen Tompkins; a grey furred were-rabbit who was absently rubbing Peter’s thigh with her left paw. Sitting next to Helen was Andy, her twin brother; also a grey furred were-rabbit. With Jean Talbot sitting next to Nate at the other side of the table and Leon and Regina at the ends of the table. With such a large gathering, the table had to be pulled out and the expansion leaf put in allowing for all seven to sit comfortably.
As furry paws reached and grabbed various bowls and plates of food, Nate was feeling the odd were out. After being assaulted the evening prior by two were-panthers; the young werewolf had to refrain from shifting into his fursona. The damage done to his inner ear, forcing him to get around with the help of a cane for a few days; the wolf in him was already howling for a chance to be let out.
As Nate managed to calm his desire to go furry down, he starts to fill up his plate with the assorted food on the table. What surprised Nate was that Andy and Helen had no problem eating meat. Thinking rabbits were primarily herbivores, preferring only the vegetables; but with their plates showing healthy amounts of the beef pot roast that Regina had prepared earlier. Filling his plate with some slabs of the meat, most of it rare; Nate also placed on his plate some potatoes and a few various green vegetables.
As everyone ate, conversation was mostly revolving around Frederick Parker and his arrest. For Leon this was a bit of an ego stroke for him, as he was instrumental in helping to bring the San-Francisco mobster down. While omitting the ominous prophecy dream he had that detailed his potential death; Leon described how he was up on the roof of the police station lobbing tear gas onto Frederick and his cronies.
Peter who was shot by Frederick’s son Daniel last Friday, couldn’t help but growl in approval; his tawny furred tail whipping about as he chuckled at the image of a short greasy goon being brought to heel. Helen hearing her mate’s rumbling couldn’t help but shudder in fear; her flight responses kicking in upon hearing a large predator announcing himself. Yet Helen never bolted from the table; instead she felt Peter’s paw on her furry shoulder. Turning to see his leonine muzzle staring at her, Peter’s eye’s gazing on her twitching pink nose.
“Still finding it difficult to not cringe in fear around me,” Peter asking calmly.
“It’s hard to fight against those primal instincts,” Helen placing a paw on Peter’s thigh again; her body still shaking as Helen looked into her lover’s eyes.
“Give it time,” Peter smiling as he looks over Helen; “your brother however…”
Helen turns around to see the spot where Andy was sitting now vacant. Silent at first, Helen could not help but smile as chuckle broke through her scared façade. With everyone else stopping what they were doing and looking up; Leon was the first smirk as he saw what Helen was laughing over.
“I think we frightened the boy away,” Leon unable smile.
“He didn’t leave the house now did he,” Regina looking around the dining room; “with him in his fursona, we are still under a were-alert.”
“I didn’t hear the opening or closing,” Jean displaying a devilish grin; “but that doesn’t mean we can’t sniff him out once dinner is over.”
“An indoor rabbit hunt,” Nate shaking his head looking bemused; “and I’m stuck hobbling about with a cane.”
“No hunting the future in-law,” Leon unable to resist laughing; “that wouldn’t exactly make a great first impression with his parents.”
“Or his wife and daughter,” Helen adding.
Andy’s wife,” Regina changing the conversation; “is she a were-rabbit as well?”
“No,” Helen answering; “a were-fox. And yes I get the irony, what with that recent animated movie regarding an anthropomorphized rabbit and fox working for a fictitious city and its police force.”
“Hollywood certainly does have some imagination there,” Nate smiling; “you think those story writers are like us.”
“Perhaps,” Leon mulling as he never seen the movie in question; “There are pockets of us weres all over the world. Moon Lake just happens to be the largest.”
******
Dinner passed by afterwards rather quickly. With Andy still hiding somewhere in the house and the table being cleared by Helen, Jean and Regina; Peter followed his father to the garage while Nate sat in the living room watching some television. The two were-lions passing by the totaled remains of a Ford Bronco; Peter looked at his father oddly, while Leon just chuckled “I’ll explain that later.”
Entering what passes for an office of Talbot Restoration, Peter shakes his head at the sight of its condition. Paper’s everywhere and filing cabinets left open; Peter is left wondering if the office was raided or his father’s brothers were just lazy in putting things away.
“Doesn’t anyone here know how to put stuff away,” Peter looking at the shambalized office; “bills and invoices go into the file folders. Not where ever you toss it. And what is this,” Peter pulling out a half-eaten Danish from a desk drawer and promptly tossing it into the nearby trash bin; “disgusting.”
“At least you have something to keep you busy while you recover,” Leon chuckling.
“Don’t tell me you did all this on purpose,” Peter eyeing his father suspiciously.
“Your uncles helped,” Leon unable to hold back his laughter; “when they overheard you were coming home today, they had to do something.”
“Cake would have been better than a messy office,” Peter not amused.
“It could be worse,” Leon doubling over in laughter; “toilet papering the place was contemplated, but I kyboshed that.”
“Then you can help me clean up,” Peter none to amused; “but first, do you smell something burning?”
Leon pausing raises his head up and sniffs the air. His leonine nose picking up the smell of smoke coming from the garage; he a peter rush with a fire extinguisher only to find Andy sitting on a bench smoking a cigarette.
“I thought your sister threw out your pack of cigarettes,” Peter looking at the were-rabbit.
“I had another one in the ambulance,” Andy taking a drag; “its why I tossed my other pack at Helen earlier.”
“Rather expensive habit,” Leon looking at the were-rabbit paramedic; “and unhealthy.”
“It may be unheathly,” Andy stubbing out his cigarette; “but it helps calm the nerves when under stress.”
Peter looked at his father, while the were-lion sat down next to the were-rabbit.
“Cleaning the office can wait tomorrow,” Leon looking at his son; “go back to the house and rest.”
Leon waited for Peter to leave before looking at Andy; seeing another cigarette at his muzzle and the lighter already lighting it up. Leon only shook his head as Andy took another pull.
“Was it Peter’s laugh,” Leon speaking; “that made you flee the dinner table earlier?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” Andy answering; “you’re a were-lion. You have nothing to be afraid of.”
“That’s not true,” Leon sighing; “there are things I’m afraid of.”
“Like what,” Andy inhaling.
“My wife’s temper,” Leon chuckling; “she can get very angry when riled up.”
“Not the same,” Andy finishing his cigarette and starting to light up another.
“Perhaps,” Leon placing his paw on Andy’s; preventing him from lighting up.
“I recently had a prophecy dream,” Leon being serious; “in it I died. It had to do with what happened yesterday at the police station involving Frederick Parker.”
Andy looks at the were-lion as he grabs the cigarette from his paws.
“The original plan in capturing Frederick involved me confronting the man in the cells as he found out his son Daniel was already moved. Armed with a hand gun I kill Frederick’s men and wound the mobster,” Leon eyeing the cigarette and wondering what it tastes like; “but as luck would have it, I run out of ammo and Frederick had a second gun. You can imagine the rest,” Leon taking the lighter and lighting up the cigarette.
Inhaling as he smokes his first cigarette, the were-lion doubles over into a coughing fit. Andy watching the were-lion cough and gag as he tosses the cigarette to the ground and stomps on it with his paw. The hot ember touching the thick callous skin; searing the flesh and making the were-lion roar in pain.
“Now that is funny,” Andy watching Leon flail about in pain.
“Prophecy dreams are never funny,” Leon growling.
“Not that,” Andy answering; “you jumping about like a jack rabbit.”
Leon pauses to look at the smiling were-rabbit; despite still being in pain, Leon couldn’t help but find the image of a were-lion jumping about like a rabbit amusing and soon doubles over in laughter as well.