The date was October 1st, 2017, my first day in Vanguard University, I'd been assigned to the first floor of the dorm building, room #B-42. I'd spent the last 4 years helping my mom around the house, she got a part time job, and my brother needed someone that could drive him to middle school.
I woke up at 7:55AM, solid 5 minutes before my alarm rang. I disabled it before it could sound, I despised the high-pitched piercing sound it made. While groaning, I buried my snout between my pillow and the mattress. My body felt lethargic, yet, my chest felt subtly tight, I was undeniably scared about my first day at this prestigious university. I've felt empty since the entrance exams. I miss having the routine of studying. Every day, right after I picked up my brother from school, I chose a random subject from the entrance exam index and studied it throughout the whole afternoon. I got up after I heard my phone buzz. I picked it up and rubbed my eyes to wake up. "Good luck on your first day, big bro. I know you're probably sleepy rn, but me and mom wish you the best!" The heartwarming message renewed my energy. "Thanks, Johann," I whispered to myself before standing up, my knee and back cracked, as I turned the lights in my dorm on, getting ready for my first day.
My dorm was slightly bigger than my walk-in closet back home, I didn't bother putting up any decorations, I don't wanna inconvenience the future me, when I moved back home in 4 years. Unlike the walls, my desk was a mess. Cluttered would be an understatements. It was stacked piles of all my necessary sketchbooks, ordered in relevancy, quality, and emotional value. My art material was right next to them, brushes, two pens for every diameter from 0.5mm to 1mm, as well as one of every type of pencil, 6H to 8B, graphite, colored, charcoal. As well as a bag of chips I was eating last night.
As I walked into the restroom, my reflection caught my eye. My silver-gray fur was semi-neat. It all flowed down from my head to my neck to my chest, with some clumps of fur I'd need to brush and untangle. And the dark gray edges contrasted with the rest of my coating in this lighting. It made me look like a cartoon character, those with thick, black outlines that make them pop out from the oil painting backgrounds in old cartoons. I looked fine, I guess.
The dorm's kitchen was empty by the time I walked in, a guy had just finished using the coffee machine, which was a relifed. This early in the morning, I'd rather jump out of the window than engage in small talk. I filled a kettle then set it on the stove and rummaged through my bag to find a tea bag I was in the mood for. Black, green, oolong. I settled on Chamomile. It has some sort of... calming property to it.
While the water boiled, I leaned against the counter and stared out the window. The campus had already woken up, and students were trickling out of their dorms and heading to class. I watched as a group of foxes walked past, their tails swishing in unison, and their laugh syncronized while they talked.
The kettle began whistling, pulling me out of my thoughts with its piercing sound. I poured the steaming water into my mug, it was plain white porcelain, and let the tea steep. The steam began curling up into the air. I grabbed a granola bar from my stash, my mom had packed them for me, insisting I'd forget to eat otherwise, and I'd get skinnier than I already am, and I headed back to my room.
I sat on my desk, sipping my tea and flipping through my current sketchbook. I was on my landscape era, mountains, trees, skies, they filled every double-sided page. My first class was Introduction to Interspecies Communication, I was unsure what to expect. I'd heard it was mostly group work, which made my stomach twist and turn. I hated group work, having to deal with the actions of multiple people at once, their voices overlapping, the irresponsibility of some of them, too many variables I couldn't control. But it's a required course for freshmen, not much of a choice, is it?
I finished my tea and got dressed, putting on a loose black sweater and a pair of white sweatpants. My backpack was already stuffed, my sketchbook, materials, snacks, and headphones were all in it. I slung it over my shoulder and took a deep breath. "You can do this, Tao," I whispered to myself, even though I was unsure if I believed it.
The walk to class was quiet, the crisp morning air felt cool against my fur, I could feel the air streams flowing between the gaps of my fingers and fur. I kept my head down, avoiding any possibility of eye contact with other students. I could sense the faint smell of coffee through the breeze, I followed it, leading me to a cozy on-campus cafe called "Eichelcafe".
The smell of coffee and baked goods wrapped around me like a warm blanket, and I couldn't resist stepping inside. The place was bustling with life, but I found a quiet spot near the counter, pulling out my sketchbook, I began drawing. As I drew, a flash of red caught my eye. A red panda, he was shorter than the barista, and his fur shone along with his grin that seemed to light up the atmosphere of the entire building. He was chatting with the barista, or atleast I guessed he was. I was too focused on his body movements to try and listen to whatever he was saying as he moved his lips. There was something about the way he moved so confidently that made me pause.
My pencil hovered over the page as I watched him, my ears twitching. Then he turned, and our eyes met for just a split second. I looked away, my face burning. Had he noticed me staring at him? I glanced back just in time to see him leave, his tail was swishing behind him. Great, now I'm a creep. I decided to follow him around, after all, I had some time to spare before classes began.
We ended up in Silberplatt park. It was empty except for a few early risers. An Australian Shepherd and a Border Collie were throwing and catching a frisbee with their muzzles, and a deer was resting on the neatly trimmed grass. I paused for a moment to take the scenery in. The trees swayed as they followed the breeze, their leaves catching the sunlight. I pulled out my sketchbook and quickly captured the scene, my pencil almost moving on its own. It wasn't a perfect sketch, the trees were proportionally massive, the Collie's eyes were off-centered, the grass' texture was sloppy at best. But it helped calm my nerves.
The moment I entered the classroom, I gravitated towards a seat near the back, right next to the room's wall and I pulled my sketchbook again, I'd try to finish the sketch during the lecture. I was halfway through my detailing of the tree above the bench, when I felt someone's presence creeping up.