FA+
Shop
323
Views
Views
4
Favorites
Favorites
Category
Prose / All
Species Dog (Other)
Size 688 x 995
File Size 109.3 kB
Report this content
More from Articus-the-tigulf
A little story from Daryl's past, settling up the start of his less than stellar lover life. While not directly, this is FBA related
Daryl and Leone © me
Art©
benanderson
"I like you...a lot..."
By Articus
Daryl walked down the hallway, his double blue eyes dashing back and forth. This served a dual purpose of scanning the number on the olive drab lockers and looking out for anything that would make what he had planned any harder than it already was. The halls were quiet, most of the other middle schoolers having gone home by now. But not Daryl. Under the guise of wanting to study a in the school library, he had convinced his mom to let him stay after school and walk the short distance to their small apartment. The truth was that the Dalmatian-golden retriever mix had nothing to study for. What he really had planned was scarier than any test his teachers could throw at him. Given that fact, he nearly jumped at every movement in the corner of his eye as moved down the yellow-lit hallway. I didn't help that the hall was most of less coated with various streamers and other decorations. It was all to remind the students that Valentine’s Day was coming. For most, it brought to life images of chocolates and little sugar heart with equally sweet messages. For Daryl however, it had come with a heavy feeling of dread; which was building more with each locker he passed.
145, 146, 147...
He counted each number in his head, his skinny tail whipping about nervously as his dark brown on light brown spotted stood on end. As he worked his way down the seemingly endless line of lockers, he began to think about what he was doing, and how terrifying it truly was.
It had all started about a month before. His gym class was doing a unit on football, one of the sports that Daryl hated to play. He had nothing against the game itself, but he couldn't play it to save his life. He couldn't throw right and had just as much of a hard time catching ball, and tackling was a whole nother kettle of fish. He most just ran and tried to keep out of the way of the others. He was good at it too, until he caught the ball on pure reflex one day and a bull who was twice his size knocked into next week when he forgot to run with it. Naturally, this garnered a wave of raucous laughter from the bovine and the rest of the jocks. Daryl just huffed and started to rise from the patch of mud he had oh so conveniently fallen into; having grown accustomed to being the odd boy out in the class. He was about halfway out of the puddle when suddenly; a hand appeared out of nowhere. The sheer surprise of seeing made Daryl not realize that there was also a person attached to said hand; and made it so that he almost just sat there in the puddle. He was far too engrossed in looking at this guy, who had taken the time to not only notice, but help the lithe canine. He was a beagle, a good half foot taller than him and had the look of an athlete without being looking like a brick house. Luckily, the voice of the their gym teacher broke the goldmation out of his trance and allowed him to take that the offered hand and rise from the mud. He stammered a thanks, barely aware that he was making noised as he felt his cheek sear with blush. He was glad his fur covered it up.
He expected the encounter to end there and for other boy to rejoin the flock of boys who actually knew how to play sports. To his surprise however, the beagle stayed with him as the class made their way off the field. He even went so far as to start a conversation. After introducing himself as Everett, he said, "Y'know, if you had actually run after that
throwing, you totally could have made it to the endzone." a genuine smile on his face the two of them walked separate of the other boys who were all too engrossed in laughing it up to noticed the pair. Daryl meanwhile was trying his best not to dissolve into a cookie-dough colored pool of social anxiety as he swallowed and said, "Really? I'm not exactly the kind of guy who you see get a touchdown." rubbing his hand through his crimson fauxhawk hairdo nervously.
"Nah, I could totally see you being like, a runningback or something." the beagle said, a broad grin on his muzzle
"Y-yeah, I guess. I don't really know much about the game." Daryl replied; seeming to develop an intense interest in his own feet as they finally made it to the locker room. Again, Daryl expected them to part ways, but the beagle continued to surprised him by staying with him. By some strange twist of fate, their lockers were only a few feet apart from each other. This was good for the conversation, which could continue, but bad for Daryl because he was quickly running out of social confidence.
"I'm Everett McAllister by the way," the beagle said, offering that same hand as before to the goldmation. Taking it with a nervous grin, Daryl replied, "Daryl, Daryl Conté” As they shook hands, he couldn't help but feel how strong the other boy's grip was on his hand. Once the shake was over, they got to changing as Everett continued with, "But yeah, football can be a bit daunting. There are times where I don't get it and I've been watching it forever now. It takes a lot of dedication to be any good at it." To this Daryl merely nodded; wishing that he was able to talk like a regular person. Not that Everett seemed to notice. He just kept on smiling at the cookie dough colored canine; giving off the most friendliness Daryl had ever felt in the class. It was in that friend tone that he said, so nonchalant that it took Daryl a second to realize what he meant, "Maybe we could hang out sometime and I could show you some stuff." When it sank, Daryl's eyes went a little wide, the proposition. He was barely able to stammer out a yes before the bell rang; the beagle hefting up his bag and saying, "Awesome, I'll see you next class.", leaving Daryl just sitting there in a mild state of confusion.
They would hang out, and after a few weeks they were hanging out rather regularly. As Everett spent more time with him, Daryl slowly began to feel more comfortable around the beagle. Soon enough, he had let his walls down; opening up to the beagle in a way he never had before. He talked about stuff he had never told anyone; not having any other friends to confide in. They talked about almost everything; hobbies, family, things like that. Daryl got the beagle to read some of the more actiony graphic novels in his collection and Everett taught the goldmation the basics of football. Things were going great and Daryl felt like nothing could go wrong.
Sadly, things aren't always so simple. After a about a month of hanging out together, Daryl starting feeling things. He found himself staring at Everett when he switched shirts in gym without meaning to. He started feeling a weird nervousness whenever they hang out just the two of them. Most of all, he wanted to hold his hand down the hall like the boys did with the girls. It was the last one that made him really start questioning what these strange signs meant. He couldn't ask anyone though, because he knew that boys didn't hold hands with boys, or hug them, or... All he did know that he no longer just liked the beagle. He like-liked, and it was turning out to be that he like-liked him a lot.
That's what had lead him to this moment, walking down the hall, looking for the locker number he had become all too familiar with as the year had gone on. In his hand was clutched a crimson envelope, Everett's name written in Daryl's best, albeit messy handwriting. The plan was simple, but none the less terrifying. He would drop the card off in Everett's locker and talk to him about it the next time they hung out together. He was nearly there as rounded corner; only to stop dead in his tracks. Not two feet from Everett's locker stood one of the biggest boys in middle school. He was taller than Everett and as built as you could be at that age. He was also by far the biggest bully in the school. Daryl knew that he was caught putting his valentine in Everett's locker, he'd get spotted and have his worse fear come true. He just kept walking, his valentine safely stashed away in his bag. He managed to escape past the bully with nothing more than a sneer and a glance. The valentine would have to till tomorrow, a prospect that he was far from thrilled about.
The next day and Daryl literally could not have been any more nervous. He was distracted all morning, nearly leaving everything he needed in various places throughout the morning. His mother made a comment about him needing to Velcro his stuff to him. He laughed, a wide smile hiding a mind awhirl with what he was going to have to do today. The whole way on the bus ride to school, he was running through what he was going to do this morning; that valentine seeming to give some strange presence in his bag that wouldn't let him forget it. That fog around his brain didn't live him as he walked to his locker, got his book and went to homeroom. Once there, his plan began. Everett's homeroom was in the cafeteria, due to overflow, so Daryl was gonna get a pass give him the valentine in some of the more secluded corners in the shelves. It was a good plan, it really was, but even the best of plans can fail. He got the pass alright, his teacher used to him spending most mornings in the library; which was where Daryl claiming that he was going. Better yet, when he got there, the teacher was too occupied to even check his pass. However once he got pass the door, things weren't so simple. He hadn't expected the beagle to be surrounded by friends. It was the one kind of thing that he didn't really have a way around.
'No, you can do this' he said to himself; steeling his nerves and moving forward with his plan. He reached the circle the of friends, managing hold most of the nerves out his voice as he said, "Hey Everett, can I talk to you?" He managed to earn the gaze of every single kids there. One of the bigger jocks began to rise, making Daryl retreat a step before the beagle raised his hand and replied, "Sure buddy."
So far, so good.
It was all going okay until gravity decided to prove that anything that can go wrong will. As he relaxed, the book he had tucked under his arm loosened and its contents fell to the floor; the valentine... As he heard the thick paper hit the floor, the sounds seemed to grow a thousand times louder than it should have been. Life seems to slow and it bounced in front of the same bull that had knocked him into the mud. The bull looked down, and picked it up with a sneer, "Hey, what's this." Setting down the book, Daryl stammered, "Oh, n-nothing. It’s just-"
He didn't get to finish as the bull tore open the card. Again, sounds seemed to magnify tenfold as Daryl head the paper rip. Car wrecks seemed to be quieter than the tear of that crimson envelope in the bull's hands. Every second seemed to last a lifetime as the cards was pulled out, opened, and in front of every single student in the library, read aloud.
"Hey Everett, I know we haven't been friends for that long, but I've recently been feeling something and I felt that I should tell you about it. You are my best friend, and I can't believe all the fun we've had over the past month. I'm so glad you found me in that mud puddle. Now, this next part is hard for me to say. I like you, a lot. I know that it’s not what boys are supposed to say to each other, but it’s just the way I feel or whatever. Hopefully we can talk about this the next time we hang out.
~Daryl."
There was a moment, of absolute silence as the last syllable fell from the bull's lips. As that moment ended, the bull's lips pulled back in a grinned before shattering the silence like cheap china. "Holy crap, what a loser. I heard about people like you from my dad. I bet you're a faggot!"
The word hit Daryl like a slap in the face, even though he didn't know what it meant. He stood there for a moment, stammering some kind of response when he was pushed to the ground from behind. "Yeah, and my dad said faggots are freaks. You're a stupid faggot, no wonder nobody likes you." The jeers came from all sides, bombard the poor boy as he lay there; tears start to fall from his eyes. That just added more fuel to the fire, the hail of insults never stopping. All the while, Everett just stood there, and expression of confusion laying on his muzzle as he watched his friend sob on the ground. This all happened in the span of a few minutes before the bell rang at last and the crowd began to disperse, the teacher leaving out the back door without a sideways glance. Everett stared down at his friend, curled up and shuddering with his sobs, but only looked away and let himself be pulled by the crowd.
It took Daryl a several minutes to pull himself from the cold tile floor; his eyes red and his fur stuck to his face from the tears. He went back to his homeroom, picking up his stuff and claiming an allergic reaction as the cause for his appearance. He went through is next few classes as best he could, just staying quiet and doing all he could not to be noticed by anyone. A couple teacher did notice though, but he just said he was tired; which worked. By lunch though, he was getting the full "freak" treatment. He was jeered at down the hallway and became the target of every rogue carrot and food projectile that was available. It didn't end, food being replaced with crumbled pieces of paper and even the occasional pencil. Daryl just took it all though, too sad to retaliate, too sad even care. He kept himself buried in his hoodie, just working to through the day and go home. Sadly, the day wasn't done with him yet. As he packed his bag and headed toward the door, a wall of jock formed in front of him. He tried to shoulder his way through, but was pushed back with a, "Where do you you're going faggot?" from a stag. The goldmation shot him a dejected look as he said, "Just leave me alone..." Obviously, it was a hilarious statement as it gained the goldmation a hearty chorus of derisive laughter. The bull from before stepped forward to shove Daryl into the wall; chuckling as he said, "Hey, we're just here to do you a favor faggot. We'll knock those wrong thoughts out of you, for your sake." the last three words having a smirked tacked onto it. That smirked stayed on his face as he pulled back.
Daryl awaited the resulting punch to smack across his muzzle, his eyes held tight, but it never came. What came instead was a soft thud and a snort. When he opened his eyes, there was a new figure in front of him. The lion was taller than Daryl and the bull, which was surprising to say the least. That wasn't all that was surprising. Across his cheeks and over his shoulders were bright crimson tattooes; stark against his ivory colored fur. The next thing he saw was the lion throwing the bull's fist to the side and saying, "Why don't pick on someone you own size Zachariah." The bull huffed, gritting his teeth as he said, "No one calls me that anymore, its Zack now you freak!"
The lion shrugged and said, "I really don't care, this kid didn't do anything to you, so I'll kindly ask you to leave him be." Daryl looked in between the two for a moment, expecting the bull to take on the lion; since he did have the advantage of numbers. However, he looked to the other and said, "Fine. You freaks can do whatever you want together." Daryl let out a huff of relied as the jocks retreated down the hall; leaving him and lion alone. Once the threat had vanished, lion turned around and smiled down to the retriever mix boy.
"Glad we were able to get that settled. It’s nice to meet you by the way, I'm Leone." the lion said; Daryl getting a good look at another interesting feature on the lion. He didn't just have a couple of those read tattoos, but was covered in them, even around his eyes It took a moment to register that it was his turn to talk. Shaking his head to clear it he said, "I'm um...I'm Daryl." expecting his fellow canine to recognize the most infamous kid in school. But no, he just smiled and said, "Ah, so you’re the kid I've been hearing about." At that point, Daryl expected the lion to call him a freak too; which he did, but not in the way expected.
"Good," he said, "Because we freaks gotta stick together right?"
Daryl Just stared at him for a moment, drawing a soft chuckle from the lion as he said, "Now c'mon, let's hurry and get you to the bus." suddenly just grabbing the goldmation’s hand. Leone sprinted, Daryl in his arms to the bus that the dog said was his, depositing him on the step with a salute and a hardy, "See you around kid." Daryl just stared back in response as he watched lion pad away, continuing to do so even after he took his seat on the bus. He was left with a million questions as the bus took him homeward. Yet, at the same time, he couldn't but smile, thinking that just because things turn out bad, doesn't meant that something good can't come out it at the end.
Daryl and Leone © me
Art©
benanderson"I like you...a lot..."
By Articus
Daryl walked down the hallway, his double blue eyes dashing back and forth. This served a dual purpose of scanning the number on the olive drab lockers and looking out for anything that would make what he had planned any harder than it already was. The halls were quiet, most of the other middle schoolers having gone home by now. But not Daryl. Under the guise of wanting to study a in the school library, he had convinced his mom to let him stay after school and walk the short distance to their small apartment. The truth was that the Dalmatian-golden retriever mix had nothing to study for. What he really had planned was scarier than any test his teachers could throw at him. Given that fact, he nearly jumped at every movement in the corner of his eye as moved down the yellow-lit hallway. I didn't help that the hall was most of less coated with various streamers and other decorations. It was all to remind the students that Valentine’s Day was coming. For most, it brought to life images of chocolates and little sugar heart with equally sweet messages. For Daryl however, it had come with a heavy feeling of dread; which was building more with each locker he passed.
145, 146, 147...
He counted each number in his head, his skinny tail whipping about nervously as his dark brown on light brown spotted stood on end. As he worked his way down the seemingly endless line of lockers, he began to think about what he was doing, and how terrifying it truly was.
It had all started about a month before. His gym class was doing a unit on football, one of the sports that Daryl hated to play. He had nothing against the game itself, but he couldn't play it to save his life. He couldn't throw right and had just as much of a hard time catching ball, and tackling was a whole nother kettle of fish. He most just ran and tried to keep out of the way of the others. He was good at it too, until he caught the ball on pure reflex one day and a bull who was twice his size knocked into next week when he forgot to run with it. Naturally, this garnered a wave of raucous laughter from the bovine and the rest of the jocks. Daryl just huffed and started to rise from the patch of mud he had oh so conveniently fallen into; having grown accustomed to being the odd boy out in the class. He was about halfway out of the puddle when suddenly; a hand appeared out of nowhere. The sheer surprise of seeing made Daryl not realize that there was also a person attached to said hand; and made it so that he almost just sat there in the puddle. He was far too engrossed in looking at this guy, who had taken the time to not only notice, but help the lithe canine. He was a beagle, a good half foot taller than him and had the look of an athlete without being looking like a brick house. Luckily, the voice of the their gym teacher broke the goldmation out of his trance and allowed him to take that the offered hand and rise from the mud. He stammered a thanks, barely aware that he was making noised as he felt his cheek sear with blush. He was glad his fur covered it up.
He expected the encounter to end there and for other boy to rejoin the flock of boys who actually knew how to play sports. To his surprise however, the beagle stayed with him as the class made their way off the field. He even went so far as to start a conversation. After introducing himself as Everett, he said, "Y'know, if you had actually run after that
throwing, you totally could have made it to the endzone." a genuine smile on his face the two of them walked separate of the other boys who were all too engrossed in laughing it up to noticed the pair. Daryl meanwhile was trying his best not to dissolve into a cookie-dough colored pool of social anxiety as he swallowed and said, "Really? I'm not exactly the kind of guy who you see get a touchdown." rubbing his hand through his crimson fauxhawk hairdo nervously.
"Nah, I could totally see you being like, a runningback or something." the beagle said, a broad grin on his muzzle
"Y-yeah, I guess. I don't really know much about the game." Daryl replied; seeming to develop an intense interest in his own feet as they finally made it to the locker room. Again, Daryl expected them to part ways, but the beagle continued to surprised him by staying with him. By some strange twist of fate, their lockers were only a few feet apart from each other. This was good for the conversation, which could continue, but bad for Daryl because he was quickly running out of social confidence.
"I'm Everett McAllister by the way," the beagle said, offering that same hand as before to the goldmation. Taking it with a nervous grin, Daryl replied, "Daryl, Daryl Conté” As they shook hands, he couldn't help but feel how strong the other boy's grip was on his hand. Once the shake was over, they got to changing as Everett continued with, "But yeah, football can be a bit daunting. There are times where I don't get it and I've been watching it forever now. It takes a lot of dedication to be any good at it." To this Daryl merely nodded; wishing that he was able to talk like a regular person. Not that Everett seemed to notice. He just kept on smiling at the cookie dough colored canine; giving off the most friendliness Daryl had ever felt in the class. It was in that friend tone that he said, so nonchalant that it took Daryl a second to realize what he meant, "Maybe we could hang out sometime and I could show you some stuff." When it sank, Daryl's eyes went a little wide, the proposition. He was barely able to stammer out a yes before the bell rang; the beagle hefting up his bag and saying, "Awesome, I'll see you next class.", leaving Daryl just sitting there in a mild state of confusion.
They would hang out, and after a few weeks they were hanging out rather regularly. As Everett spent more time with him, Daryl slowly began to feel more comfortable around the beagle. Soon enough, he had let his walls down; opening up to the beagle in a way he never had before. He talked about stuff he had never told anyone; not having any other friends to confide in. They talked about almost everything; hobbies, family, things like that. Daryl got the beagle to read some of the more actiony graphic novels in his collection and Everett taught the goldmation the basics of football. Things were going great and Daryl felt like nothing could go wrong.
Sadly, things aren't always so simple. After a about a month of hanging out together, Daryl starting feeling things. He found himself staring at Everett when he switched shirts in gym without meaning to. He started feeling a weird nervousness whenever they hang out just the two of them. Most of all, he wanted to hold his hand down the hall like the boys did with the girls. It was the last one that made him really start questioning what these strange signs meant. He couldn't ask anyone though, because he knew that boys didn't hold hands with boys, or hug them, or... All he did know that he no longer just liked the beagle. He like-liked, and it was turning out to be that he like-liked him a lot.
That's what had lead him to this moment, walking down the hall, looking for the locker number he had become all too familiar with as the year had gone on. In his hand was clutched a crimson envelope, Everett's name written in Daryl's best, albeit messy handwriting. The plan was simple, but none the less terrifying. He would drop the card off in Everett's locker and talk to him about it the next time they hung out together. He was nearly there as rounded corner; only to stop dead in his tracks. Not two feet from Everett's locker stood one of the biggest boys in middle school. He was taller than Everett and as built as you could be at that age. He was also by far the biggest bully in the school. Daryl knew that he was caught putting his valentine in Everett's locker, he'd get spotted and have his worse fear come true. He just kept walking, his valentine safely stashed away in his bag. He managed to escape past the bully with nothing more than a sneer and a glance. The valentine would have to till tomorrow, a prospect that he was far from thrilled about.
The next day and Daryl literally could not have been any more nervous. He was distracted all morning, nearly leaving everything he needed in various places throughout the morning. His mother made a comment about him needing to Velcro his stuff to him. He laughed, a wide smile hiding a mind awhirl with what he was going to have to do today. The whole way on the bus ride to school, he was running through what he was going to do this morning; that valentine seeming to give some strange presence in his bag that wouldn't let him forget it. That fog around his brain didn't live him as he walked to his locker, got his book and went to homeroom. Once there, his plan began. Everett's homeroom was in the cafeteria, due to overflow, so Daryl was gonna get a pass give him the valentine in some of the more secluded corners in the shelves. It was a good plan, it really was, but even the best of plans can fail. He got the pass alright, his teacher used to him spending most mornings in the library; which was where Daryl claiming that he was going. Better yet, when he got there, the teacher was too occupied to even check his pass. However once he got pass the door, things weren't so simple. He hadn't expected the beagle to be surrounded by friends. It was the one kind of thing that he didn't really have a way around.
'No, you can do this' he said to himself; steeling his nerves and moving forward with his plan. He reached the circle the of friends, managing hold most of the nerves out his voice as he said, "Hey Everett, can I talk to you?" He managed to earn the gaze of every single kids there. One of the bigger jocks began to rise, making Daryl retreat a step before the beagle raised his hand and replied, "Sure buddy."
So far, so good.
It was all going okay until gravity decided to prove that anything that can go wrong will. As he relaxed, the book he had tucked under his arm loosened and its contents fell to the floor; the valentine... As he heard the thick paper hit the floor, the sounds seemed to grow a thousand times louder than it should have been. Life seems to slow and it bounced in front of the same bull that had knocked him into the mud. The bull looked down, and picked it up with a sneer, "Hey, what's this." Setting down the book, Daryl stammered, "Oh, n-nothing. It’s just-"
He didn't get to finish as the bull tore open the card. Again, sounds seemed to magnify tenfold as Daryl head the paper rip. Car wrecks seemed to be quieter than the tear of that crimson envelope in the bull's hands. Every second seemed to last a lifetime as the cards was pulled out, opened, and in front of every single student in the library, read aloud.
"Hey Everett, I know we haven't been friends for that long, but I've recently been feeling something and I felt that I should tell you about it. You are my best friend, and I can't believe all the fun we've had over the past month. I'm so glad you found me in that mud puddle. Now, this next part is hard for me to say. I like you, a lot. I know that it’s not what boys are supposed to say to each other, but it’s just the way I feel or whatever. Hopefully we can talk about this the next time we hang out.
~Daryl."
There was a moment, of absolute silence as the last syllable fell from the bull's lips. As that moment ended, the bull's lips pulled back in a grinned before shattering the silence like cheap china. "Holy crap, what a loser. I heard about people like you from my dad. I bet you're a faggot!"
The word hit Daryl like a slap in the face, even though he didn't know what it meant. He stood there for a moment, stammering some kind of response when he was pushed to the ground from behind. "Yeah, and my dad said faggots are freaks. You're a stupid faggot, no wonder nobody likes you." The jeers came from all sides, bombard the poor boy as he lay there; tears start to fall from his eyes. That just added more fuel to the fire, the hail of insults never stopping. All the while, Everett just stood there, and expression of confusion laying on his muzzle as he watched his friend sob on the ground. This all happened in the span of a few minutes before the bell rang at last and the crowd began to disperse, the teacher leaving out the back door without a sideways glance. Everett stared down at his friend, curled up and shuddering with his sobs, but only looked away and let himself be pulled by the crowd.
It took Daryl a several minutes to pull himself from the cold tile floor; his eyes red and his fur stuck to his face from the tears. He went back to his homeroom, picking up his stuff and claiming an allergic reaction as the cause for his appearance. He went through is next few classes as best he could, just staying quiet and doing all he could not to be noticed by anyone. A couple teacher did notice though, but he just said he was tired; which worked. By lunch though, he was getting the full "freak" treatment. He was jeered at down the hallway and became the target of every rogue carrot and food projectile that was available. It didn't end, food being replaced with crumbled pieces of paper and even the occasional pencil. Daryl just took it all though, too sad to retaliate, too sad even care. He kept himself buried in his hoodie, just working to through the day and go home. Sadly, the day wasn't done with him yet. As he packed his bag and headed toward the door, a wall of jock formed in front of him. He tried to shoulder his way through, but was pushed back with a, "Where do you you're going faggot?" from a stag. The goldmation shot him a dejected look as he said, "Just leave me alone..." Obviously, it was a hilarious statement as it gained the goldmation a hearty chorus of derisive laughter. The bull from before stepped forward to shove Daryl into the wall; chuckling as he said, "Hey, we're just here to do you a favor faggot. We'll knock those wrong thoughts out of you, for your sake." the last three words having a smirked tacked onto it. That smirked stayed on his face as he pulled back.
Daryl awaited the resulting punch to smack across his muzzle, his eyes held tight, but it never came. What came instead was a soft thud and a snort. When he opened his eyes, there was a new figure in front of him. The lion was taller than Daryl and the bull, which was surprising to say the least. That wasn't all that was surprising. Across his cheeks and over his shoulders were bright crimson tattooes; stark against his ivory colored fur. The next thing he saw was the lion throwing the bull's fist to the side and saying, "Why don't pick on someone you own size Zachariah." The bull huffed, gritting his teeth as he said, "No one calls me that anymore, its Zack now you freak!"
The lion shrugged and said, "I really don't care, this kid didn't do anything to you, so I'll kindly ask you to leave him be." Daryl looked in between the two for a moment, expecting the bull to take on the lion; since he did have the advantage of numbers. However, he looked to the other and said, "Fine. You freaks can do whatever you want together." Daryl let out a huff of relied as the jocks retreated down the hall; leaving him and lion alone. Once the threat had vanished, lion turned around and smiled down to the retriever mix boy.
"Glad we were able to get that settled. It’s nice to meet you by the way, I'm Leone." the lion said; Daryl getting a good look at another interesting feature on the lion. He didn't just have a couple of those read tattoos, but was covered in them, even around his eyes It took a moment to register that it was his turn to talk. Shaking his head to clear it he said, "I'm um...I'm Daryl." expecting his fellow canine to recognize the most infamous kid in school. But no, he just smiled and said, "Ah, so you’re the kid I've been hearing about." At that point, Daryl expected the lion to call him a freak too; which he did, but not in the way expected.
"Good," he said, "Because we freaks gotta stick together right?"
Daryl Just stared at him for a moment, drawing a soft chuckle from the lion as he said, "Now c'mon, let's hurry and get you to the bus." suddenly just grabbing the goldmation’s hand. Leone sprinted, Daryl in his arms to the bus that the dog said was his, depositing him on the step with a salute and a hardy, "See you around kid." Daryl just stared back in response as he watched lion pad away, continuing to do so even after he took his seat on the bus. He was left with a million questions as the bus took him homeward. Yet, at the same time, he couldn't but smile, thinking that just because things turn out bad, doesn't meant that something good can't come out it at the end.
Category Prose / All
Species Dog (Other)
Size 688 x 995px
File Size 109.3 kB
Comments