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(Part 1 of this story is located here: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/2545084 )
The next events were a blur to Benton. His mind acted on autopilot as he followed Bellows, Joe, and Nightfire through the town. Bellows had offered breakfast to Benton and the painter felt that a nice, quiet meal would be the best remedy for his scrambled thoughts.
Gent padded along behind his master, staying close to him at all times. He whimpered at the sight of Benton’s mental anguish.
Joe noticed Gent’s moans and walked over to him. “What’s wrong, Gent?” he patted the dog on the head with his large, furry paw. Gent loved the attention and licked Joe’s paw pads.
The group followed Bellows into one of the cliff side buildings. They proceeded through a long earthen hallway lit by open windows spaced along the walls.
Joe walked up to Benton.
“Gent is worried about you.” He told the painter. “Are you okay?”
Benton glanced at the bobcat, then looked ahead with a weary gaze. “Well, let’s see. I’ve been plagued by nightmares, I followed my dog into a snowstorm, I was attacked by a wolf, and I just found out that I live next to a hidden civilization of talking animals.” He stopped and faced Joe. “Does that sound okay to you?” he asked with a tone of frustration.
Joe stopped and inhaled deeply to calm himself. “I think you need rest.”
Benton looked at Joe with world-weary eyes. “No. I’ve had enough rest.” He thought for a moment. “What are you, really? Where did your animal ancestors come from before the cave?”
Joe sighed. “It is best that you take this new experience in small doses. One day I may reveal that information to you, but today is not that day.”
Bellows stepped out of a door in the hallway. “Come on. My attendant has finished preparing breakfast.” Benton broke his gaze from Joe and walked into the room.
A round table with five wooden chairs had been set-up in front of two large beds. Square windows dotted the end wall, providing a wealth of light into the luxuriously spaced room. It was simple and undecorated, but calm and relaxing.
Benton sat down and saw a giant mass of eggs and bacon piled on the plate. “I didn’t know you had chickens.”
“Oh yes.” Bellows explained. “Our chickens lay eggs the size of footballs.”
“Wow.” Benton wondered what kind of chicken would lay such an egg.
A whimper came from the floor as Gent stared at his master with pleading eyes.
“Sorry boy. I don’t think you can eat this.” He told his dog.
“Don’t worry. My attendant went to fetch a dog bowl for your friend. We have food for him as well.” Bellows told Benton. He glanced back towards an entryway at the rear of the room. “Ah, here she comes now!”
They turned and saw a woman enter the room with white facial makeup. Upon closer inspection, it wasn’t a woman at all. It was a female rabbit with human-like features. Her foot paws were four-toed fluffy renditions of human feet. She held a dog bowl in her five fingered human-like hand paws. Her face had a small black dot of a nose with whiskers and two small protruding teeth. Her long floppy ears fell back behind her head in close semblance of a human ponytail.
To top it all off, she wore a frilly pink jumpsuit that looked more like a Victorian era undergarment than a 1930’s outfit. Her small tail puff poked out a makeshift hole in the back.
“This is Georgia, my trusty maid.” Bellows introduced her as she smiled and put down Gent’s bowl. She pet him as he barked in happiness and dove into his meal. Georgia stood up. “Pleased to meet you!” she told the group.
The rabbit sat down next to Benton as he found himself eyeing his plate, trying not to stare at her. He was still having trouble adjusting to his new environment.
“Georgia, this is our guest, Mr. Thomas Benton. He’s a painter just like you.” Bellows told his attendant.
“Oh wow! I should show you my work sometime! I’ve never met another painter!” She practically hopped out of her seat.
Bellows motioned to the table. “Let’s eat!”
Benton found Georgia to be an interesting conversationalist. As the town painter, she was hired to create all sorts of portraits. She had painted Joe at least three different times, Bellows twice, Nightfire once, and a slew of other townspeople. What Georgia really liked to paint were flowers.
“Do you paint flowers, Benton?”
He forced a smile at the thought. “Sometimes…” he said through slightly clenched teeth. He was sick of painting flowers.
Joe explained that he worked as a tailor during the day. He was often asked to create custom clothes for the varying tastes (and impossible body dimensions) of the animal townsfolk. He was also an avid reader, and knew much of the 21st century world thanks to any magazines or books he could procure.
“There was this one time I got an unreliable magazine.” Joe explained. “I read an article that said an intelligent cheetah had contacted a prominent national agency to work as a government agent. It turned out to be bogus. I’ll never trust the National Enquirer again.”
Nightfire talked about her job as part of the town security force. Her task was to patrol the outskirts of Cliffside and prevent any wild animals from attacking the villagers.
“It’s fun most of the time,” she grinned, “but do you know how embarrassing it is to run off your own kind? The wolves taunt me everyday! At least I showed them who the alpha female was!”
Bellows explained that his role was to filter potential contacts outside of town. “Public relations.” He said. He would screen those who wished to enter Cliffside and bring in candidates who passed his battery of questioning.
“There was one time where I screened this girl with Joe by my side. She turned out to be one of those artists who draw fictionalized versions of anthropomorphic animals like Joe. Do you know them, Benton?”
The painter thought for a moment. “Yeah. Um…Funnies? Fuzzies? Something like that.”
Bellows continued. “Well, once she found out Joe was a walking, talking bobcat, she latched onto that boy for seven days straight! You remember that Joe?”
“I’d rather not…”
“Of course you do!” Bellows laughed. “She still lives here but we’ve managed to calm her down a bit.”
“Hey,” Joe got the group’s attention. “Gent has a story to say.”
“How do you know this?” Benton asked in utter confusion. “I don’t see him moving his mouth.”
“We have a telepathic link with animals who don’t speak human tongues.”
“Oh…” Benton said. He wasn’t going to think about it too much. “Can you read human minds? Humans are considered animals.”
“Humans have too many complicated thoughts. It’s like listening to radio static coming from an infinite number of speakers.” Joe detailed.
“Oh…so what’s Gent’s story?” Benton wondered. He looked down at his loyal friend who gazed back at him with his ever present smile.
“It’s a dream, actually.” Joe corrected. He looked at the group. “He says that one night, he dreamed that Benton was at a high-scale art show in New York. Benton’s paintings were on display and he had a crowd of admirers so thick you couldn’t even see the floor of the attendance hall. He saw Benton up on the stage giving a thank you speech to everyone in his life, even Gent himself. Benton looked happy and content,” he turned to Benton, “like he knows you’ve always wanted to be.”
Benton looked down at Gent once more as he felt a lump in his throat. He motioned for Gent to walk to him, and he hugged him tight as a single tear ran down his eye.
(Continue to Part 7: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/2545248/ )
The next events were a blur to Benton. His mind acted on autopilot as he followed Bellows, Joe, and Nightfire through the town. Bellows had offered breakfast to Benton and the painter felt that a nice, quiet meal would be the best remedy for his scrambled thoughts.
Gent padded along behind his master, staying close to him at all times. He whimpered at the sight of Benton’s mental anguish.
Joe noticed Gent’s moans and walked over to him. “What’s wrong, Gent?” he patted the dog on the head with his large, furry paw. Gent loved the attention and licked Joe’s paw pads.
The group followed Bellows into one of the cliff side buildings. They proceeded through a long earthen hallway lit by open windows spaced along the walls.
Joe walked up to Benton.
“Gent is worried about you.” He told the painter. “Are you okay?”
Benton glanced at the bobcat, then looked ahead with a weary gaze. “Well, let’s see. I’ve been plagued by nightmares, I followed my dog into a snowstorm, I was attacked by a wolf, and I just found out that I live next to a hidden civilization of talking animals.” He stopped and faced Joe. “Does that sound okay to you?” he asked with a tone of frustration.
Joe stopped and inhaled deeply to calm himself. “I think you need rest.”
Benton looked at Joe with world-weary eyes. “No. I’ve had enough rest.” He thought for a moment. “What are you, really? Where did your animal ancestors come from before the cave?”
Joe sighed. “It is best that you take this new experience in small doses. One day I may reveal that information to you, but today is not that day.”
Bellows stepped out of a door in the hallway. “Come on. My attendant has finished preparing breakfast.” Benton broke his gaze from Joe and walked into the room.
A round table with five wooden chairs had been set-up in front of two large beds. Square windows dotted the end wall, providing a wealth of light into the luxuriously spaced room. It was simple and undecorated, but calm and relaxing.
Benton sat down and saw a giant mass of eggs and bacon piled on the plate. “I didn’t know you had chickens.”
“Oh yes.” Bellows explained. “Our chickens lay eggs the size of footballs.”
“Wow.” Benton wondered what kind of chicken would lay such an egg.
A whimper came from the floor as Gent stared at his master with pleading eyes.
“Sorry boy. I don’t think you can eat this.” He told his dog.
“Don’t worry. My attendant went to fetch a dog bowl for your friend. We have food for him as well.” Bellows told Benton. He glanced back towards an entryway at the rear of the room. “Ah, here she comes now!”
They turned and saw a woman enter the room with white facial makeup. Upon closer inspection, it wasn’t a woman at all. It was a female rabbit with human-like features. Her foot paws were four-toed fluffy renditions of human feet. She held a dog bowl in her five fingered human-like hand paws. Her face had a small black dot of a nose with whiskers and two small protruding teeth. Her long floppy ears fell back behind her head in close semblance of a human ponytail.
To top it all off, she wore a frilly pink jumpsuit that looked more like a Victorian era undergarment than a 1930’s outfit. Her small tail puff poked out a makeshift hole in the back.
“This is Georgia, my trusty maid.” Bellows introduced her as she smiled and put down Gent’s bowl. She pet him as he barked in happiness and dove into his meal. Georgia stood up. “Pleased to meet you!” she told the group.
The rabbit sat down next to Benton as he found himself eyeing his plate, trying not to stare at her. He was still having trouble adjusting to his new environment.
“Georgia, this is our guest, Mr. Thomas Benton. He’s a painter just like you.” Bellows told his attendant.
“Oh wow! I should show you my work sometime! I’ve never met another painter!” She practically hopped out of her seat.
Bellows motioned to the table. “Let’s eat!”
Benton found Georgia to be an interesting conversationalist. As the town painter, she was hired to create all sorts of portraits. She had painted Joe at least three different times, Bellows twice, Nightfire once, and a slew of other townspeople. What Georgia really liked to paint were flowers.
“Do you paint flowers, Benton?”
He forced a smile at the thought. “Sometimes…” he said through slightly clenched teeth. He was sick of painting flowers.
Joe explained that he worked as a tailor during the day. He was often asked to create custom clothes for the varying tastes (and impossible body dimensions) of the animal townsfolk. He was also an avid reader, and knew much of the 21st century world thanks to any magazines or books he could procure.
“There was this one time I got an unreliable magazine.” Joe explained. “I read an article that said an intelligent cheetah had contacted a prominent national agency to work as a government agent. It turned out to be bogus. I’ll never trust the National Enquirer again.”
Nightfire talked about her job as part of the town security force. Her task was to patrol the outskirts of Cliffside and prevent any wild animals from attacking the villagers.
“It’s fun most of the time,” she grinned, “but do you know how embarrassing it is to run off your own kind? The wolves taunt me everyday! At least I showed them who the alpha female was!”
Bellows explained that his role was to filter potential contacts outside of town. “Public relations.” He said. He would screen those who wished to enter Cliffside and bring in candidates who passed his battery of questioning.
“There was one time where I screened this girl with Joe by my side. She turned out to be one of those artists who draw fictionalized versions of anthropomorphic animals like Joe. Do you know them, Benton?”
The painter thought for a moment. “Yeah. Um…Funnies? Fuzzies? Something like that.”
Bellows continued. “Well, once she found out Joe was a walking, talking bobcat, she latched onto that boy for seven days straight! You remember that Joe?”
“I’d rather not…”
“Of course you do!” Bellows laughed. “She still lives here but we’ve managed to calm her down a bit.”
“Hey,” Joe got the group’s attention. “Gent has a story to say.”
“How do you know this?” Benton asked in utter confusion. “I don’t see him moving his mouth.”
“We have a telepathic link with animals who don’t speak human tongues.”
“Oh…” Benton said. He wasn’t going to think about it too much. “Can you read human minds? Humans are considered animals.”
“Humans have too many complicated thoughts. It’s like listening to radio static coming from an infinite number of speakers.” Joe detailed.
“Oh…so what’s Gent’s story?” Benton wondered. He looked down at his loyal friend who gazed back at him with his ever present smile.
“It’s a dream, actually.” Joe corrected. He looked at the group. “He says that one night, he dreamed that Benton was at a high-scale art show in New York. Benton’s paintings were on display and he had a crowd of admirers so thick you couldn’t even see the floor of the attendance hall. He saw Benton up on the stage giving a thank you speech to everyone in his life, even Gent himself. Benton looked happy and content,” he turned to Benton, “like he knows you’ve always wanted to be.”
Benton looked down at Gent once more as he felt a lump in his throat. He motioned for Gent to walk to him, and he hugged him tight as a single tear ran down his eye.
(Continue to Part 7: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/2545248/ )
Category Story / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 16.4 kB
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