As they began to walk, Fang gently ushered Kev deeper into the forest, the crunch of leaves underfoot a soft counterpoint to the distant hum of the city. Rex, a silent sentinel, fell into step a few paces behind them, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings.
"Before this was a park," Fang said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to blend with the sounds of the forest, "I used to come out here to destress. Running around always cleared my head."
Kev nodded, understanding the need for such an escape. "Swimming helps me," he offered, picturing the cool embrace of the pool back at the mansion.
Fang glanced down at him, a hint of surprise in his amber eyes. "Swimming, huh? Can't say I've ever used the pool much."
As they rounded a bend in the path, a small group of beastmen approached, their laughter echoing through the trees. Rex, his instincts kicking in, immediately moved to position himself between Fang and Kev and the approaching group, his posture radiating a subtle warning.
"Path's taken," Rex scoffed. "Find another."
A hyena man at the front of the group let out a derisive laugh. "You gonna do something about it, kitty cat?" he taunted, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of arrogance and amusement.
Kev, called out, "Rex, it's a public place! They can walk where they want!"
Rex spun on his heel, his golden eyes blazing as he glared back at Kev. Fang looked down at Kev, then at Rex, a muscle twitching in his jaw. With a curt gesture, Fang signaled for Rex to stand down. Rex's lip twitched, his whiskers quivering with suppressed aggression, but he reluctantly stepped aside.
The group of beastmen swaggered past. The hyena, emboldened, jeered, "Looks like kitty's on a leash. Probably some freak from that sex dungeon." The group erupted in laughter, their voices echoing through the trees as they continued down the path, quickly forgetting the encounter.
Fang and Kev started walking again, passing Rex, who remained rooted to the spot, his glare now fixed on Fang's back.
"This place is the only forest in the city," Fang said, his voice a low rumble, seemingly unfazed by the hyena's insult. "You'd need to drive an hour to find something even close."
Kev giggled. "Me driving or Perry driving? I'd probably take three times longer."
Fang laughed, the sound a welcome release of tension. "Perry driving," he confirmed. "You shouldn't have to worry about something like that."
"Yeah, I'd rather not," Kev said. "The driving here seems crazy compared to what I'm used to… I heard Talon's sister was in a car accident." He looked up at Fang, but the wolfman's attention was elsewhere. Fang was glancing around, his brow furrowed. Kev followed his gaze and began to notice the park's deteriorating condition. The trash cans were overflowing, litter strewn carelessly along the path. Some of the iron lampposts were dark, their lights extinguished, while others flickered erratically. A few benches were broken, their wooden slats splintered and askew.
Fang continued to walk, his pace steady, but his tail was now held rigidly out, a clear sign of his displeasure. The deeper they ventured into the park, the worse the neglect became. The once-manicured pathways were now cracked and uneven, encroached upon by weeds and untamed undergrowth. The air, once fresh and invigorating, now carried a faint, unpleasant odor.
Fang stopped abruptly, his head snapping up as he took in the dilapidated surroundings. "Kev, this is not right," he said, his voice tight with a mixture of anger and concern. "Something must be wrong." He whirled around, his gaze fixing on Rex. "What is going on here?"
Rex, still simmering from the earlier encounter, met Fang's glare with defiance. "I don't know," he growled.
"This place is a mess!" Fang's voice rose, echoing through the neglected trees. "Who's getting fired?"
Rex looked away, his jaw clenched. "Why don't you ask your little pecker-face valet?" he sneered. "Seems like he's privy to everything."
"Rex, shut your mouth!" Fang barked, his patience finally snapping. The fur on the back of his neck bristled. "If any of the other managers said something like that about you, what would you have me do?" Fang stalked towards Rex, his movements predatory. "You would want me to punish them, wouldn't you?"
Rex flinched, unable to maintain eye contact with the furious wolfman. He looked down, his ears flattening against his head.
"You are watching Kev right now, so I can't punish you," Fang said, his voice dangerously low. "But if I hear one more fucking word like that, I'm going to lose it. You should be happy Kev is here, or else I'd already have posted a job listing."
Rex trembled, his bravado crumbling under the weight of Fang's controlled rage. He tried to look back into Fang's eyes but couldn't.
"Shut up and do your job," Fang commanded, his voice cold and final. He reached out for Kev's hand, his grip surprisingly gentle, and stalked down the path, leaving Rex to trail behind them, his earlier arrogance replaced by a sullen silence.
Fang's pace quickened, his hand gripping Kev's tightly as he led him through the increasingly overgrown and poorly maintained paths. The air grew heavier, the scent of decay mingling with the damp earth. Finally, they emerged into a clearing.
It was bathed in an almost oppressive darkness, the moonlight struggling to penetrate the dense canopy above. Small, weathered rectangles of stone, their inscriptions faded and obscured by moss, stood unevenly spaced in the tall, unkempt grass. In the very center of the clearing, a bare, rusty flagpole stood forlornly, its metal groaning softly in the slight breeze.
Fang stopped at the edge of the clearing, his breath catching in his throat. "The city said they would maintain this," he whispered, his voice raw with a grief that startled Kev. "As part of the park deal." He looked around, his eyes hardening, the earlier anger returning with a fresh, painful intensity. He let go of Kev's hand, his touch lingering for a moment before he strode purposefully towards the flagpole in the center of the small, forgotten graveyard.
A guttural howl, filled with rage and anguish, tore from Fang's throat, echoing through the silent clearing. He slammed his fist into the rusty flagpole, the metal groaning in protest.
Kev, standing at the edge of the cemetery, flinched at the raw display of emotion. He glanced back at Rex, who offered only a contemptuous sneer. Kev sighed, a familiar weariness settling over him, and walked towards Fang.
"Maffa! I'm going to end you!" Fang roared, his voice shaking with fury, his gaze fixed on the distant, glittering lights of the city.
Kev reached out, his hand gently touching Fang's arm. "Fang," he said softly, "this is your favorite spot?"
Fang's pained eyes locked onto Kev's, the anger momentarily receding, replaced by a profound sadness. "This isn't my favorite spot," he choked out, his voice thick with emotion. "This is a disgrace."
Kev's gaze swept across the neglected graves. "Can you tell me who this graveyard is for?" he asked gently. "Is it your family?"
"Family?" Fang yelled, his voice cracking. "The men in these graves are more important than just family! They gave their lives during the war, following my great-great-grandfather! Their loyalty will never be forgotten by me, and it should never be forgotten by the city!"
Kev looked around, his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. He could now see the extent of the neglect. The graveyard was littered with trash – discarded bottles, crumpled wrappers, faded plastic bags. The graves themselves were overgrown with weeds, the headstones tilted and weather-beaten. Even the flagpole, the centerpiece of this hallowed ground, was bent and rusted, a symbol of the city's broken promise.
"They were brave," Kev said, his voice filled with a quiet respect. "Now that we know, we can do something about it."
"This is disrespect," Fang seethed, his anger returning. "Something will be done about it." He began to stalk back towards Rex, his fists clenched, his body radiating a barely suppressed fury.
"Fang, wait," Kev called out, his voice calm but firm. Fang paused, his back still to Kev. "Why not sit here for a bit and enjoy the night?" Kev continued. "I know the sight of this place might make you upset, but if this place is really that important to you… I want to sit for a bit and spend some time here."
Fang's shoulders, which had been rigid with anger, softened as he looked at Kev. The raw honesty in the human's eyes, the quiet understanding, seemed to soothe some of the wolfman's fury. "Yes," Fang said, his voice hoarse. "I can still pay my respects."
Kev nodded. "Take as much time as you need." He found a bench that was still relatively intact, its ironwork surprisingly resilient against the years of neglect, and sat down, facing the flagpole. He lit a cigarette, the small flame a fleeting point of light in the surrounding darkness.
The night air was cool and crisp, a welcome change from the oppressive heat of the day and the stuffy, smoky atmosphere of the club. Kev watched as Fang moved slowly through the graveyard, his large form a somber silhouette against the moonlit sky. Fang paused now and then at different graves, his head bowed, a silent communion with the fallen warriors. Kev could only imagine the weight of history and responsibility that Fang carried, the deep connection he felt to these forgotten heroes.
Kev smoked his cigarette, the silence of the clearing broken only by the gentle rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of crickets. He carefully stubbed out the butt and tucked it into his pocket, not wanting to add to the litter already despoiling the sacred ground.
After a while, Fang returned to the bench.
"I'm sorry you had to see this, Kev," Fang said, his voice heavy with a mixture of shame and anger. "I am going to make sure someone pays for this."
Kev gestured for Fang to sit down beside him.
Fang sank onto the bench beside Kev, a weary sigh escaping his lips. "This was supposed to be a fun walk," he said, his voice laced with regret, "and I've just embarrassed myself. I never would have imagined the city would stoop so low."
Kev reached out and gently took Fang's hand, his touch a silent reassurance. "Why don't you tell me about your great-great-grandfather?" he asked, his voice soft and inviting. "If this is your favorite place, I want to learn more."
Fang's tail gave a small, involuntary wag as he looked at Kev, his eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and surprise. He hadn't expected Kev to show such genuine interest, such a willingness to understand the depth of his connection to this place.
"Kev," Fang began, his voice a low rumble, "my great-great-grandfather was the first president of the unified Continent. These men," he gestured towards the surrounding graves, "they all fought against the unified mammal rule. Their own kind. They fought to give avians and reptiles equal rights."
Kev's eyes widened in surprise and admiration. "That's amazing," he breathed, his voice filled with awe. "I couldn't imagine how hard it must be to do something like that… how brave some men can be." He squeezed Fang's hand, a silent testament to the respect he felt for these fallen heroes and the legacy they represented.
Fang looked down at Kev, his amber eyes filled with a profound emotion. He pulled Kev close, his strong arms wrapping around the human in a tight, almost desperate hug. "A man is most brave when he fears," Fang murmured, his voice thick with unshed tears.
Kev hugged Fang back with equal intensity, the raw emotion of the moment, the potent weed oil, and the weight of Fang's family history overwhelming him. He felt a deep connection to the wolfman, a shared understanding of the burdens they both carried.
Then, a troubling thought surfaced, a dissonant note in the symphony of their shared grief. He pulled back slightly, his voice a hushed whisper against Fang's fur, "If you care so much about freedom, then how could you do that to Pedro?"
Fang's embrace loosened, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. "Who?" he asked.
Kev looked up, his own eyes now filled with a mixture of pain and accusation. "You sold him at the auction," he said, his voice trembling slightly. "And you've already forgotten? How could you say you respect men who fought for freedom when you stole freedom with your own hands?" The words hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the earlier warmth and intimacy of their shared moment.
Fang's embrace tightened, his expression shifting from grief to a kind of bewildered defensiveness. "Pedro?" He pulled back just enough to look into Kev's eyes, his brow furrowed, not in forgetfulness of the llama, but in a clear dismissal of his importance. "Kev, that... llama? That wasn't about his freedom. Don't you see? That was about you."
His hands moved to cup Kev's face, his thumbs gently stroking his cheekbones. His amber eyes, though still holding a trace of the earlier pain, now burned with a fierce, possessive intensity. "He tried to make a spectacle of you, Kev. He wanted to win you as a prize, to parade you around. He disrespected you. And by doing so, he disrespected me."
Fang's voice dropped, becoming a low, almost hypnotic purr. "What I did to him... that was a message. A very clear, very public message to everyone in that room, to everyone in this city who might hear about it." He leaned closer, his breath warm against Kev's skin. "It was to show them that you are mine. That you are under my protection. That anyone who even thinks of laying a hand on you, of disrespecting you, of trying to take what is precious to me, will face a fate far worse than being sold to the highest bidder."
He searched Kev's face, a flicker of something almost vulnerable, almost pleading, in his eyes. "Can't you see that, my love? It was a demonstration. A demonstration of how far I will go to ensure your safety, to ensure you are respected as... as mine." He stumbled slightly over the last word, as if the depth of his own possessiveness surprised even him. "He learned a lesson. They all learned a lesson. About what happens when you trifle with what belongs to Fang. It was for you, Kev. To keep you safe, to show the world you are valued beyond measure."
Kev pushed back slightly, his brow furrowed, the logic not quite landing. "But... slavery, Fang? Would the men buried here, these men who fought for equal rights, approve of you selling someone into slavery, no matter the reason?"
Fang's jaw tightened, a muscle twitching along his cheek. His grip on Kev's face softened, but his eyes remained intense. "Kev, these men," he gestured again to the weathered stones, "they weren't saints. They were soldiers. They fought in a brutal, bloody war. Freedom wasn't won with polite words and good intentions. It was won with sacrifice, with difficult choices, with actions that, in another context, might seem… unsavory." His voice was low, strained. "They did what they had to do to protect what they believed in, to secure a future for others. They understood that sometimes, to protect the innocent, you have to be ruthless with those who would cause harm."
Kev pulled away further, stepping back from Fang's embrace, a knot of unease tightening in his stomach. "But this isn't a war, Fang. Pedro was… an idiot. A hustler. He wasn't a threat to my life."
Fang's hand shot out, grabbing Kev's arm, his fingers digging in slightly. "Every day is a war when you're fighting for something, Kev!" His voice cracked, the raw emotion in it startling. "Fighting for this club, for my legacy, for... for you! Do you think the city council plays fair? Do you think those enforcers were just out for a casual stroll? They see weakness, and they pounce. Pedro was a lesson, a necessary one, to show them I am not weak, and what I value will be defended, fiercely!"
Kev looked up at Fang, and his own anger faltered. The wolfman's eyes, usually so sharp and commanding, were welling with unshed tears, a vulnerability exposed that Kev had never witnessed. The sight was disarming, heartbreaking.
With a soft cry, Kev lurched forward, wrapping his arms around Fang's waist, burying his face in the wolfman's chest. The scent of sandalwood and something uniquely Fang, something wild and comforting, enveloped him. "I don't understand," he mumbled, his voice thick with emotion. "This place is so different from where I'm from. At first, I thought it was just the club, but..." He couldn't articulate the rest, the overwhelming sense of cultural dissonance, the feeling of being adrift in a world with rules he couldn't comprehend.
He pushed away again, just enough to look up at Fang, his own eyes now wet. "Fang," he said, his voice trembling, "I've been lying to you."