Part two to my previous story! This time, Cliff returns to Alaska Airlines Arena as a 2-year player in contrast to the previous year where he was just a rookie.

As always, comments/criticism are welcome, and thank you to those who download and comment on the formatting used in the Word document!
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The silver-brown lynx yawned as he stepped out of his small bedroom into the narrow corridors, his large feet barely making a noise as he padded dressed in his jacket.

The sun was barely up, giving a serene blue over Anchorage’s sky as its rays began the long creep outward from the horizon, adding to the very cold morning – one not unlike where the lynx was one whole year ago at his very first practice.

He looked towards the entrance to the apartment and saw his own sneakers, dwarfed by the large, worn boots that lay on their side as if they were discarded without thought; yet they lay comfortably apart from the well-polished trainers. He casually prodded the door to the living room, loosely shut and scrunched his nose as the rank smell of yeast flooded his mouth, overpowering the faint scent of his uncle. He nearly coughed but held himself; instead settling for a sigh. He decided just shutting the door, but he instead peeked inside, finding his uncle lying in unchanged clothes and in a fetal posture, cold. The lynx exhaled sharply and went back to his room, taking a spare blanket and gently draped it over the elder, grey-furred feline. Barely a response was made but it seemed that Andrew could rest a bit easier.

He looked over his uncle’s haggard features and could not help but feel that he was one of the furs that Cliff had worked so hard to help in the charity tournament. He resented that strong taste that burnt his lungs; it taunted him that no matter how much he tried, his uncle seemed to never have the desire to speak much of himself – without any inkling as to what his uncle faces or has faced, Cliff could not know what befell the legendary Andrew Lambert to bring him to this state.
The silver feline swallowed hard; this wasn’t what he wanted to start the day with. Quietly leaving the room and closing the door, he picked up his duffel bag and put on his shoes, grabbing his helmet as he carefully left the apartment.

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It had been awhile since the lynx had ridden on motorbike; having been driven throughout most of Montreal or Nanaimo during his break. The roads hadn’t changed – and it was a very similar day to when he started, one year ago.
He chuckled then behind his helmet, making a turn. He recalled the panic and worry he had the first day – everyone had seemed to be more experienced, more worthy. Such insecurities were gone.

“Chill,” Julia Fernandéz had said to him, then. The honey bear was a strange one; very lively – and eccentric was a very tame word to describe her personality. She had been a great mentor and friend to him, though, her light hearted spirit eased itself on Cliff’s constant worry during his year as a rookie.

Today, he was a rookie no longer.


Coming towards the Anchorage Airlines Arena, he found himself being greeted by the same ferret security guard that he would pass every Monday. The jovial mustelid waved as the lynx drove past the security gate that leads into the basement of the Ice Box. The basement already had quite a few cars and bikes in their spots, and the feline only wondered about his new teammates.

He only got a call from Bobby Baylor not long ago that his younger brother, Marcus had been traded back into the team for two of his former team mates, Adolfa and Harper. He had felt bad that the otorongo and arctic fox were leaving at the time. The two were part of the same ‘back up crew’ that Cliff had filled along with Travis – a close friend that he had in the sense that the two of them often sat in the bench together cheering for their team mates. It saddened him even more that Travis was not re-signed, and the penguin had forwarded his doubts to him at one point, but he had accepted the fact that he would use the D-League as his stepping stone to jump back into the professional league. He did not know who the other two new recruits into the team were, so he would probably know soon enough.


The silver fur stepped into the locker room, finding the room repainted and the old, grey lockers replaced with icy-blue coloured ones. He smiled, amused at the change in hue that came with the paint job and went to his locker, labelled with his name and jersey number 3. It surprised him that when he opened it, there was a note, looking like it was just a folded piece of paper with his name on it. He unfolded it carefully, the crinkling sound of paper echoing the silent room as he began to read the words written with fancy font in purple ink.

After practice, do come for a visit. –F. Svenlocke

Feres Svenlocke was the name of their general manager. Like a schoolboy being called to the principal’s office, he bit his lip worriedly. He prayed feverously that he wasn’t going to be traded away.

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“Morning, Cliff!” went the excitable Julia Fernandéz. Almost as if she had seen the lynx arrive in advance, she greeted him as he just entered the court. Other players already gathered waved and greeted following suit.
The lynx was flushing red now, a rush flowing around him with the warm welcome he got. He waved back, a large, pearly-white smile in return.

“Great to see everyone again,” he said, looking at his entire team – along with four of the new players in their Arctics jerseys. Standing side-by-side with his big brother was the smaller – but still larger than Cliff was – Marcus Baylor. They had run into each other several times in their games against Pittsburgh last year, and both brothers had looked happy to be donning the same jersey together again. There was a raven – a large one at that - not far from them, which surprised Cliff to see. A look over the jersey the lynx saw the name ‘Jones’. There was also a fisher named ‘Paulichek’, also another large player – and a small spitz – it made Cliff grin to learn that the nearly six feet tall canine was named ‘Spitz’.


“Cliff!” in contrast to the energetic voice of Julia was the soft tone of Kasa Yalenchka. The lynx flicked an ear and turned to see the snow leopard come by and she shook his paw.

“Hi Kasa,” the lynx nodded. “Good to see you again.” The last time they had met was at the charity tournament not long ago. “I have to say, you and Ferramin did a wonderful job in Montreal.”

“No, thank you,” her tail flicked gently. “You and your team, they’ve made a wonderful event together.” Her accent wasn’t a very thick Russian, given how that she has been in the United States for several years, and her English was fluent. “I never got a chance to thank you for it.”

This made the lynx blush again. “Oh - glad you enjoyed it.” He smiled.

“Very much so – the event was a great success, Cliff.”
The lynx flicked his ears as another teammate – Mark spoke in his perfect English. The large seven foot ferret was, if not for his very large height, typical for the school genius.

“I’m glad you and Kasa came, Mark,” he smiled at him. Through his thick-rimmed glasses the ferret nodded twice.

“It was a pleasure. Experience and charity work in a single package? It was win-win for everyone.”

Julia clasped her fingers together. “Isn’t this a wonderful reunion?” she said, her face beaming. “The team comes together once more in a single package, in the Icebox. We’re all like ice cubes in the Freezer!”

The four chuckled and shook their heads at the blatant puns – only to be interrupted by a shrill whistle. Cliff cringed, his ears flattening themselves. He looked in the direction of their coach on the side of the court – the person he regarded so similarly to his father, Vladmir Tabanov.

“Hey, Matthiews,” Julia called, starting to walk towards Coach.

“Hm?” the silver fur tilted his head, making a start as well.

“Chill.” She winked, breaking off into a run. Cliff grinned, running after her.


Coach Tabanov watched each player as they assembled around him. “If you haven’t noticed, our first pre-season game is against our friends in Montana, the Howlers. They’re sore and howling for revenge after licking their wounds.” The snow leopard began, his sharp eyes looking at every fur. “We’ll get started on practice. Some of you are new, but we’ve already met at draft day and when we handed you your jerseys. For the rest you?” he flicked his tail, looking at each veteran on the team.

“Welcome home.”
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FBA ©  buckhopper
Cliff Matthiews ©  Rainwhisker
Alaska Arctics and associated characters ©  jtigerclaw
All other characters belong to their respective owners ©  marcusnoble  mongooseink  paulshepherd