And so here's part 2! I hope you like it. Another short one, of me trying to develop the personality and character of one of the Alaska Arctics, this time the younger polar bear M. Baylor. A bit of intrigue at the end, too! Enjoy, comments and criticism greatly appreciated.

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“Fifth Avenue mall, my favourite escape,” Cliff had announced to Marcus when they arrived. In some respects, the polar bear could definitely agree. It was big, full of a large crowd, and the occasional attention he got from a fan brought a bit of a rush to him, though he did little much beyond signing an autograph or making what small talk he could. At times, however he found it a bit unsettling, but he accepted it as part of his job. Still, if he wasn’t at home or if he wasn’t at practice, this had been his escape. Normally, he would only go with his brother or alone; but time passed without Bobby at his side when he still played for the Keystones, and he felt that he could use another person’s company time to time – that fur was Alan Murphy for most of the previous season, until he had been traded away.

Marcus regarded Cliff as like-minded when they first met. He often avoided first contact, and rarely spoke unless spoken to. His confidence was something that the polar bear envied, though. The lynx was clearly more outgoing than he was. Even so, the feline was quick to befriend the ursine; especially once they found out they shared the same interests for the most part – fiction and video games being one of them.
Their first destination had been the arcade, both eager to see if any new games had sprung up. Cliff hadn’t checked in months, Marcus himself didn’t have the time to check since he arrived. Eager to play and relax from a hard day’s worth of practice, the two settled on something with a lot less brainwork – a railroad shooter. The two worked well together, Marcus noticed, both picking up for the other’s slack. Maybe he hasn’t noticed it either, but it could be the same on the court.

Once they had their fill of shooting, they decided to have lunch over at the food court, settling for burgers. A few occasional patrons recognized them, which drew a few people towards them now and then, so they couldn’t have as much privacy as they wanted. Cliff himself looked a bit uncomfortable after the four signatures.

“What’s the matter?” Marcus asked the lynx as a young kit walked away happily with a shirt they both signed.

“Oh, uh. Nothing, really – just feel like there’s so many interruptions.” He chuckled, which made the polar bear grin.

“It’s not so bad,” Marcus bit into his burger, feeling exhilarated by the fact that furs were coming over, recognizing his efforts.

Cliff shrugged, looking off to the rest of the mall as he took another bite. “I guess. We’re nothing like…Dixie, or some other famous celebrity.”

The polar bear grinned again at that. “Umaechi tells me he gets tons of people coming over to ask for signatures all the time. He’s always going to run into someone, one way or another wherever he is.”

“He’s earned that reputation…wonder if he enjoys it?” the lynx idly asked, taking a sip of his drink.

Marcus paused for a moment, picturing the husky being surrounded by fans. “I…I like the fame, but I might feel uncomfortable if I was as famous as he was,”

“Definitely, same here.” The lynx laughed. “But that generally means we’re great players, right?”

“Should be, unless you’ve got yourself a scandal,” the ursine laughed too.

“Oh man, Buck Hopper…I really didn’t think he’d be the type, you know?”

Marcus shook his head. “You never know, I guess. Not the first time a celebrity has had fingers pointing at him.”

The topic of discussion then shifted to new releases for video games in the coming month, and exchanging tales of their exploits in Skyrim, talking about bugs and other strange occurrences in the Elder Scrolls series of bug-ridden games that they hardly realized time flying by. Deciding it was time they headed back as they would have to fly the next day, the pair made their way to the parking lot.


As they came towards the basement where Cliff’s motorcycle was, a silver-furred figure emerged from the lift, almost bumping into the silver-brown lynx. “Oh, excuse me.” Said the voice, and after a pause he continued.

“Cliff? Marcus?”

“Mr. Svenlocke?” Marcus addressed him. “Nice to see you here, Sir.”

Cliff only earflicked as he gazed back at the other lynx, who proceeded to dip his head curtly.

“And you, too!” he spoke, jovially. “I’ve just got a few errands to do before heading back – I live near, you see.”

“Errands?” Cliff spoke up. His ears were half-flattened against his head. To Marcus, it seemed like he was unconvinced.

“Groceries, my dear lynx,” Feres replied in narrowed eyes with a grin. “I assume you’re heading off, then?” he craned his head to the direction they were heading.

“Yup. We’ll see you tomorrow?” Marcus spoke for the two of them. Whatever it was, Cliff didn’t seem like he was up for chatting with the other lynx.

The silver feline paused for a moment and shook his head. “No, actually. I have to head to the U.K.”

“For what?” Cliff quickly asked. “Oh, Felidae Nutraceutical business?”

“You bet. Take off time is just a bit after tip-off, so I won’t be there.”

“Anything major happened?”

“No, not really. Just loose ends that I have to go and tie up, that’s all,” Feres answered. Cliff himself didn’t appear satisfied with how vague the answer was and shrugged.

“Well, good luck with that,” he offered, a small smile lining his muzzle.

“We’ll see you back for the Clefs game?” Marcus asked.

“For sure. I wouldn’t miss a home game for the world,” The silver lynx happily smiled, tail swishing slowly. “I’ll see you boys then.” He gave them a thumbs up, heading into the mall.

Marcus noticed Cliff watching Feres walk off with an expression he’d describe as suspicion, so he proceeded to ask. “What’s wrong?”

Cliff paused for a bit, turning around to head into the basement with a sigh. “Nothing. Might be just me, but…something about him doesn’t seem right.”

“Doesn’t seem right? What, is this some sort of lynx-thing that I don’t see?” the polar bear chuckled.

“Nah,” Cliff chuckled hesitantly, as they reached his bike. “Well. Maybe it is? I don’t know, I might be imagining things. Let’s just head home – we got a long day tomorrow, and I don’t think I’ll be too happy when we get to Sturgis, the crowd’s never fun.”


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“What’s the news?” a gruff voice asked, his grey-red furred paws picking up the coffee cup and putting it to his mouth.

“Not terribly much. Thought I had a lead on someone on the eighth avenue, but it was just small-fry; unrelated.” The other, silver fur proceeded to do the same.

The two sat in a quiet, private room in a high-class café, located at the top floor of the mall. Their voices were hushed, muffled by the sound-proof walls.

“Damn.” Said the gruff voice. “What about Lambert? Did you find anything about him?”

“No. I’ve forwarded the small-fry info to the local cops, though. They should handle it accordingly.”

“Well – no, that’s – ugh. Good you helped the locals, but what do you mean ‘no’?” he proceeded to hurriedly drink, almost burning his tongue.

“Befriending him is a slow process,” the softer, refined voice spoke back.

“We don’t have all day,” the grey-red fur pushed forward, leaning at the fur opposite of him. “You were adamant we shouldn’t prod Lambert directly. We’re taking the slow approach because *you* think they have eyes on him.”

“And I still do. It’s why we have his nephew. The best link we have to avoid drawing suspicion.”

“Does he suspect you?” the gruff voice asked, waiting for a response. When none came, he only growled. “He does, doesn’t he? Damnit. You’re doing a terrible job at this.”

“On the contrary, my lupine tomodachi, compadre, friend, what-have-you, I have his attention. And that’s the difference.”

“Fancy word for ‘he thinks you’re creepy’.” The lupine scoffed.

An amused purr from the silver fur. “You know me way too well, you know that?”

“Of course.”

“Things will progress. Don’t worry.”

“I’m not. The higher-ups will.”

“I’ll be diffusing that tomorrow when I fly to the U.K.”

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FBA ©  buckhopper
Marcus Baylor ©  jtigerclaw
Cliff Matthiews, Feres Svenlocke & wolf ©  rainwhisker
Thumbnail ©  christaphorac