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Beautiful skies and a bright sun only added to the perfection of the moment, making it more like a dream or a picture than reality. A soothing cool breeze came over the vast lake and onto the beach, which was only inhabited by two lovers, clad only in swimsuits, playing in the sand. Chasing one another while jestingly tossing sand, the two looked more like children than young adults; their laughs sounded just as pure.

“This is perfect Jared. How did you know about this place?” The woman asked, throwing her hands around the man’s neck, as her brown eyes locked with his green ones. Her feet entangled with his as she made every attempt to get closer to him, to be one with her knight in shining armor.

The young man gave her a cunning grin, obviously proud of his accomplishments and of her joy, “...what can I say…I have my connections…” Allowing himself to be pulled down by her hands, he readjusted his arms so that he was resting on his elbows and much lower to his love. Feeing her breasts rise and fall with every breath she took, he felt finally at ease with the Universe around.

This was heaven.

Rubbing cheek to cheek, the man moved closer to her ear in order to whisper sensually in it with a warm and gentile voice; “you know,” he spoke while moving his arm under her to better support their position, and to stealthfully find the clasp of her bikini, “no one ever comes here.” The man then began to lightly kiss her cheek, then neck, and ending at her collarbone before moving back up again to her ear. His other arm started to explore her body with a slow sweep, taking it’s time around her breasts and enjoying the curve of her belly has as it travels further below.

She gave out a pleasurable moan, now rubbing his shortly cut brown hair, silently pleading for him to continue. The young man wasted no time as he started to kiss her once more. Between every kiss came his intentions, dirty and desirable. As he made his way down to the breasts, the woman gave out a loud electronic sound that was both unnatural and unexpected.

“Beep-Beep. Beep-Beep. Beep-Beep”

Jumping out of bed in shock, the odd-looking werewolf hit the hard wooden floor with a skull-cracking thump. Immediately his black furry, clawed, hand shot up to strangle the little alarm clock silent and end the racket that took him away from heaven. Took him away from his memories of the glory years that are long past.

You really don’t know how good you have it until it’s gone….or until you’re a furry little wolf-man. Now the only girls he can ever hope to get are those furries and, well, they even creep him out; he still is a man after all, just a very fluffy one that needs a flea bath occasionally.

What time was it anyway? His arm pulled the alarm clock down so that his amber eyes could gaze into the cheep red LSD screen: 1840. Why was this time important, he thought, placing the alarm clock back on the wooden nightstand next to his bed. His other arm massaged the start of his muzzle, dipping down into the eyes occasionally to grab any reminisce of the sleepman’s visit.

That’s right, got to contact that Yank who’s looking for a smuggling guide; need to arrange transport for several hundred kilos of coke to cross the border into America. It isn’t a glorious job, but it pays well enough, and that’s all that the anthro wolf cared about; the zeros behind the number.

Slowly getting up with a stretch, he opened a drawer and pulled out a cheap plastic cellphone. Dialing the number the bartender, who told him about the job, gave him, Ouklae pressed the phone against his ear and listened to it ring. It didn’t take long for the other end to pick up with a high pitched voice, obviously someone who spends most of his time being scared of his own shadow, “he…he…hello?”

“Hello, I’m Tom Richinson from Whitewolven courier. I hear you have a package you like us to deliver to America.”

“oh…oh…oh yeah, tha-that’s right. When can you, ah, come an’ pick it up.”

“The truck will come around eight; leave the package and payment in the spot that was indicated to you in our ad. We’ll pick it up then.”

“How will I know it isn’t a trick or stolen.”

Ouklae rolled his eyes, getting slowly fed up with dealing with this newbie to the trade. No experienced member would ask such a question, or sound so insecure, “you’ll know,” With that he closed the phone shut and placed it on the night stand, glancing once more at the time: 1900…seven o’clock.

An hour before show time, perhaps he’ll take a shower...