The four friends realized that they'll be there for a while, so they might as well set up base camp. Richard offered to go out and collect fallen lumber, if it meant he could get some space. The rest of the friends went off to do their own things.
Rich had traveled to an area left of the center of the island. He had followed what seemed to be a relatively peaceful path, trodden down by whatever local wildlife called this island home. He had gone and collected a few bundles of sticks, which he had placed back at camp, and was going to fetch one last batch before returning to their designated campsite, which Keith was already setting up. Rich had already collected some good sticks for the shelter he was going to set up, but was having a hard time getting more.
He saw a stick in a small clearing, sticking straight up out of the dirt. It was decent sized, and would hopefully be strong enough for his shelter. He ran towards it and yanked it out of the ground, but was shocked to find that on the end that was sunk into the ground was a spearhead of some kind. A closer look told him it was metal, most likely iron or tin. And it was sharp, too. It looked machine crafted, but how would it have been? This was a deserted island, right? Was it something from years ago, when all of the land in the world was one big continent?
Rich didn't get the chance to think about it harder, because something darted out of the bushes. He turned around to see it, but whatever it was darted back into the shrubbery, and was now starting out at him from behind the bushes. The eyes looked human, and they were on the same level as Rich's, but they were yellow. None of his friends had yellow eyes. Not many people did, in fact.
"Hello?" He called to the figure. "Who are you?"
The eyes moved forward, slightly out of the bushes. But the eyes didn't come out first. It was a snout. An animal's snout, hopefully not a violent one, but judging from it's height, it might have been safe to say it was a bear. Rich moved the spear into some weak defense position, and the animal cowered back into the shadows.
A soft whisper came from the bush. "No me hagas daño."
Rich, having taken 4 years of Spanish, recognized that it was speaking some form of Spanish, but he could 't exactly pi point the words. So it had human eyes, an animal snout, and it could speak. All sorts of red flags went off in his head, which was not good, since he still needed to process the words.
In a few attempt to communicate, Rich spoke, "Hola. ¿Cómo estás?"
The snout once again appeared, a little more detailed now. It was distinctly that if a dog breed. Rich stuck the spear back into the ground where he found it, hoping it would calm the creature more. "No me hagas daño." The thing repeated again. Rich processed this as "Don't Hurt Me".
"No te hare daño." Rich spoke, as best he could in Spanish.
The figure finally decided to emerge from the shadows. His face came out first, and it shocked Rich to look at it. It was distinctly animalistic, but it had human features, like his eyes, and his jaw, and the crop of coffee brown hair on top of his light brown and white fur. If he had to guess, Rich would say that the animal was a corgi, which, given the ideas of natural selection and evolution, seemed near impossible for a humanistic version if a corgi to evolve in an island separate from anywhere else where a corgi could live. He also seemed to be wearing some kind of glasses, made of what appeared to be painted wood, and the ends of which seemed to rest on his cheeks rather than his ears, which were too far up to actually accomplish that.
The rest of him slowly emerged, and what he saw after that shocked him even more. First off, he was wearing clothes. Not leaf loincloths like most depictions of tribal men would be shown as, but actual, black fabric clothing, a two piece getup with a long-sleeve shirt and pants. His body was, for the most part, human figured. His hand-paws were pretty normal, except for the fingers, which there were five of, but were much shorter and fatter than a human's. The most startling thing was the animal's figure. Despite it clearly being a male, given it's voice, and the fact that his package was visible from the pants, he had a slightly fat chest, a thinner, sloping waist, and an extremely massive ass, much bigger than most woman back in America, or anywhere else in the world.
Rich assumed the corgi was going through his own analyzing, as he looked, felt, and sniffed Rich head to toe, almost to the point of uncomfortableness.
Almost.
"Uh... ¿Cómo te llamas?" Rich said, trying to stop this from escalating further.
The dog looked up at Rich (he was slightly shorter than Rich was) and replied, "Me llamo Markos. ¿Y tú?"
"Uh... Rico." He replied, unsure if that was the correct phrasing. He looked up to see that it was getting a little later than he thought, so he had to leave. "Yo... Yo necesite irme."
As he was going to turn to leave, Markos cupped Rich's face in his paw, and kissed him deeply on the lips*. Rich expected to be weirded out by this, or at least feel uncomfortable, but he didn't. He was shocked by how natural the kiss actually felt. Sure, it was still a bit out of nowhere, but it didn't feel all that different than an average kiss from a normal human.
The dog released from Rich just as he was about to start enjoying it, picked up the spear from its resting place, and said his goodbyes. "¡Adiós, Rico! Nos vemos."
"Bye." Rich replied, too stunned by the sudden kiss to remember to reply in Spanish. But he did remember it was getting late, so he returned to his little Outpost with an odd and slightly hot memory of his new acquaintance.
*This deep kiss was not a romantic one. It's simply the traditional goodbye of this tribe.