This was a story inspired by the commission as drawn by  cooner. It's dedicated to my friend  mitternacht and continues the life of Birch, a telepathic okapi.

The story is also available on Smashwords as a free download. Why? Because I can.

***

It wasn't easy for Birch to know someone who was shorter than him. All his life he was used to looking up at his friends, his cousins (who just so happened to be giraffes and way too damned tall for their own good), and even his boyfriend.

Mitty was a different story. Even though he was a wolf, he was a few inches shorter than Birch, but they still hit it off when they met online ages ago. Through sheer coincidence, Mitty's parents lived around forty-five minutes away from Birch, and the wolf moved to be closer to them since they were getting on in years, thus deepening the bond of friendship between okapi and wolf.

Today, those years had caught up with Mitty's father.

"It's a double threat," said Mitty as he leaned forward in the chair, wringing his hands. "Lung cancer, pneumonia, and a heart attack."

Birch leaned over and squeezed Mitty's shoulder. "That'd be a triple threat," he murmured as they sat in the hospital's waiting room. There was a lack of any scents in the room. It was completely aseptic.

"Yeah, I know. My brain's running on auto," Mitty replied, patting Birch's hand. "Thanks for coming over."

"I figured you could use a friend. Jan sends his regards, and he'll be coming with me tomorrow to see you."

Mitty continued to stare at the floor, his hands resuming their wringing. "I don't think he's going to wake up again." I also don't think he's going to survive the night.

Birch winced as he picked up Mitty's thought, and wished once again that his telepathy hadn't changed the rules. Once, his ability could only pick up people's thoughts at a distance of exactly five miles away. No more, no less. Now he could read people's thoughts within those five miles, and at a greater distance if he had an emotional connection, such as a loved one.

As if on cue, Jan's thoughts came into his head. Birch! Call me!

"Excuse me for a second, Mitty," Birch said as he stood up, taking his cell phone out of his pocket, "I just remembered I have to call Jan."

"Tell him I said hi," Mitty replied, not looking up.

A pang of sadness mixed with sympathy plummeted through Birch as he moved over to a secluded corner, then dialed Jan's number. "You're getting good at projecting your thoughts," he said once Jan answered.

"I know," Jan said, and Birch found himself rolling his eyes at how smug the leopard sounded. "I should be the telepathic one, huh?"

"I'd let you have it in a heartbeat."

"So, how's Mitty?" Jan said.

"His dad's in a coma, and Mitty doesn't think the chances of him surviving the night are good."

"Reading his mind again, huh?"

"Didn't mean to, it just happens sometimes."

"I know. Tell Mitty I said hi and I'll see him tomorrow."

"Okay, I will."

"Jan says hello," Birch said as he returned to Mitty.

"He'll be here tomorrow, right?" Mitty hadn't changed his stance at all except for turning his head to look up at Birch. It didn't take a mind reader to know how badly Mitty was feeling.

"Yeah, he'll be here tomorrow."

"Let's go to Dad's room," Mitty said as he stood up, running a hand through his head fur. "I always feel better when I'm talking to him, even though he can't talk back."

As Birch followed Mitty, an idea began to bloom. An idea he couldn't shake off, and when they reached Mitty's father's room, Birch knew he was going to try it out, because to not try it would always drive him crazy with "what if it could work?"

Mitty's father looked shrunken in the wide hospital bed, his black fur standing out in stark relief against the white bedspread and sheet. There were a set of IVs attached to his wrist, and the respirator covering his muzzle helped his lungs to breathe.

"Dad? I brought you some company," Mitty said in a hushed tone usually reserved for a library or a church. "It's Birch."

"Hello, sir," Birch said in the same hushed tone, even as he reached out to touch the elder wolf's mind.

Hello, Birch. I'd get up and shake your hand but I'm in a bit of a coma right now.

Birch blinked. That was not the response he'd expected.

"He looks so peaceful," Mitty said.

That's because I'm getting the best rest in my life, son.

"Do you think if he could respond he'd say he was getting the best rest in his life?" Birch said, hoping Mitty would get the humor, but expecting it to backfire so horribly that Mitty would never speak to him ever again.

Mitty actually smiled. "Yeah, he'd probably say that."

Well, Birch knows me better than I thought. Good to know my son's got some good friends to keep him sane. Lord only knows I drove my boy crazy every so often.

"You know, Mitty," Birch said, the idea now in full bloom, "he's probably happy you've got friends to be with you during a time like this."

Mitty looked up at the okapi, then back to his father. "I guess he would be." He turned back to Birch. "I got to visit the little wolf's room. I'll be right back."

So how long have you been a mind reader, Birch? came the question Birch expected.

"A while now, sir," Birch said, his voice barely above a whisper. He didn't think Mitty could hear him, but he didn't want to explain why he was talking to the elder wolf. "It's a long story, and I'm just as surprised as you that I can read your mind. I didn't think I could, what with you being in a coma."

Well, just when I thought I'd seen everything. I can't ignore this opportunity. Can you do an old wolf two favors?

"Sure, sir. What are they?"

They're simple favors, I hope. Let my boy know I love him, and always will. And if you could keep an eye on him, I'd appreciate it. Don't let him go all hermit on you.

Birch felt a chill cascade down his spine, and suppressed a shudder. Mitty's father knew what was happening, and he was ready for it. "I will, sir."

You're almost as good of a boy as my son, Birch, but I'm most likely biased.

"That you are, sir."

Mitty then emerged from the bathroom, drying his hands with a paper towel. "Geez, I didn't know how late it was. Don't you have work tomorrow?"

Birch glanced up at the clock. It was, indeed, getting late. When had the sun gone down? "Yeah. I guess it's time to say goodnight, huh?"

Mitty, nodded, then faced his father, placing a hand on the elder wolf's forehead. "Goodnight, Dad. I love you."
I love you too, son. See you tomorrow.

Birch and Mitty entered the elevator and rode it in silence, but as they went into the parking garage, Birch said "I bet if your father could talk right now, he'd say he loves you, and always will."

Mitty stiffened for a split second, then gradually relaxed. "Yeah, I think he would." He then covered his muzzle as he suddenly yawned. "I'll see you tomorrow, Birch. Thanks."

"See you tomorrow, Mitty."

***

Birch and Jan didn't see Mitty the following day, as Mitty's father passed away in the late evening. They did, of course, attend the funeral, but didn't have too much opportunity to speak to Mitty. Though a few days later Birch was at the apartment, having just gotten back from the gym. Jan had to run some errands, so he was all by himself when there was a knock on the door.

"Hey Birch, did I catch you a a bad time?" Mitty said, not phased at all by the shirtless state of the okapi.

"No, I just got home from the gym. I just finished taking a shower."

"I just wanted to stop by to say thanks for being there for me."

"I just wish I could've done something more."

Mitty then spread his hands, and curled his arms around Birch's waist, resting his head against the okapi's chest. "You did enough."

Birch rested his muzzle on the crown of Mitty's head, closing his eyes. He remembered the elder wolf's request:

Keep an eye on him, I'd appreciate it.

Birch would honor that request.