((Heh, a bit long, folks, so bear with me.  And while it might be fun to explore just why Vultana's so turned on by the thought of being fucked and vored, I'm not in the mood for it right now, so we'll stick with Dreamer for now.))<br/><br/>Dreamer didn’t even quite have the time to turn around.  The man in front of him --- the man that had tried to<span style="font-style: italic">kill</span>him with a<span style="font-style: italic">car</span>--- groaned.  It wasn’t much, but it brought Dreamer’s gaze right back to him.  The man was still dazed by what had happened, and showed no immediate signs of being a threat, but after what he’d just tried to do Dreamer couldn’t ignore him.<br/><br/>He stared at the man for a few seconds, and he bared his teeth in a grim smile.  It would be so easy… just pull the trigger, and the contents of the bastard’s skull would be all over the window behind him.  So easy… one tiny movement, so very easy…<br/><br/>Suddenly a memory came to Dreamer, quick and fleeting.  It didn’t happen often anymore, but it still did sometimes… he would catch a glimpse of his memories --- a window into his past --- and from then on he would be able to recollect it whenever he wanted to.<br/><br/>He had no time to dwell on the memory at the moment… but later, if there<span style="font-style: italic">was</span>a later, he would take the time to do so…<br/><br/>………………………………………<br/><br/>“Pull the trigger, boy!  It’s easy!<span style="font-style: italic">Shoot</span>him!”<br/><br/>The young human stood there, holding the handgun pointed right at the fox’s face.  Brown eyes stared at him, open wide and streaming tears of terror and horror.  There was a plastic muzzle holding his jaw shut, despite that the blood oozing through his jowls clearly marked that the humans had smashed most if not all of his teeth.  With his hands and legs clamped to the chair he sat in, the furry was utterly helpless and harmless… and he was just a kid, really, like the human himself.<br/><br/>The human knew the fox’s age… he knew his exact date of birth, in fact.  The human<span style="font-style: italic">knew</span>this fox… personally.  They had once, in fact, been friends.  His name was Museau… and he was the son of one of the few friendly furry families that had moved into the human lowlands before the invasion had begun.  He’d grown up with humans, and was a good kid, really… but now he was going to die just because he wasn’t a human, and so was one of the enemy.  In truth, had it been most any other fur, the boy wouldn’t even have hesitated to blow his head all over the room…<br/><br/>The human stared into his eyes, and the sergeant snarled and screamed at him in anger and disbelief.  The boy had been a wonderful acquisition for the humans so far, after all… they’d found him wandering the aftermath of a bloody battle, mercilessly and efficiently blowing away furs that had gorged on humans and were too plump at that moment to escape his quick and precise aim.  The commanders had seen him doing it, and had known they’d found a good soldier for the dwindling human army.<br/><br/>He’d done surprisingly well for one so young.  He had an excellent aim, and was a quick draw.  He seemed quick to think on his feet, and fleet of foot besides.  He was no furry in terms of speed and strength, but he had passion… a hatred for anything even<span style="font-style: italic">remotely</span>furry.  He had seen his family tortured and slaughtered… or in truth, played with and devoured, still alive and screaming, if feebly.  He had been forced to watch, helpless, as his sisters and mother were ravished by canine furs of several types… his father had not come home, and never would.  The boy had only been spared because he wasn’t quite old enough, and the female fur commander had held some kind of perverted honor.  He’d been made a slave instead.<br/><br/>But he had learned to lie… to tell tales and speak smoothly, to stay alive.  Many times he had talked his way out of being vored.  Other times he had escaped even beatings, though not always.  And finally he had outwitted his owner, had tortured<span style="font-style: italic">her</span>, and had shot her so full of bullets that her bodyweight had doubled before he’d been satisfied and had finally made his escape.<br/><br/>The humans had found him, and had trained him, and they were now even preparing him for some special assignment.  He had passed all their tests with flying colors, as they had expected… and now he had shocked them by not slaying this fox on sight as ordered.  He just stood there staring at this fox he had once known…<br/><br/>“Boy, if you weren’t so damn<span style="font-style: italic">good</span>I’d shoot you myself!”  The Sergeant snarled in a way that would make most furs proud.  “I’ve seen you shoot more furs than we could count!  I’ve seen you shoot the females, the offspring, the helpless without a moment’s thought!  What the<span style="font-style: italic">hell</span>is different about<span style="font-style: italic">this</span>one?!”<br/><br/>The boy stared into the fox’s eyes.  He had to do it, of course.  The fox shook his head wildly, begging with his eyes and muffled whimpers.<span style="font-style: italic">Don’t you get it? </span>The boy wondered.<span style="font-style: italic">They’ll kill you anyway.  They’ll even kill me if I don’t do this.  I can’t let that happen.  I have too many of your kind to kill.  Too many…</span><br/><br/>Anger surged through him as the fox continued to silently beg.  How dare he?  How dare he show up now, here, at this worst possible moment?  How dare he think their passed friendship meant anything after all these years?  He was just a fur… just another member of the barbaric animals that had tormented his family before his young eyes.  He was… he was just an animal!  How<span style="font-style: italic">dare</span>he refuse to die!<br/><br/>He pulled the trigger.  Blood did indeed spatter.  The face the boy recognized become unrecognizable once more, just like all the other furs he’d killed. It had been no different than them… just another beast that had needed to be put down.<br/><br/>“By the five gods, boy!” the Sergeant shook his head and his arms.  “What the hell was that?”<br/><br/>“I used to know that animal,” the boy said, shrugging, the rage against those furred monsters burning within him once more.  “Nothing more, sir.  And it won’t happen again, I can guarantee that…”<br/><br/>………………………………<br/><br/>Dreamer’s hand shook.  He glared at the dazed man in the car, and remembered what he’d seen the “resistance” do back at Fort Blotar and Sombquist.  “Just an animal…” he murmured, and his finger almost pulled the trigger of its own volition.  But this wasn’t an animal before him, his mind decided at the last moment… this was a human… another human, like him.  A stupid, puny, completely misguided human, indeed, like those fur conquerors so long ago… but he didn’t deserve to die just for his ignorance, did he?<br/><br/>Maybe he did… but Dreamer wouldn’t do it unless he really had no choice… he had promised Maeve.<span style="font-style: italic">Maeve,</span>he thought, and once again glanced at the station wagon to see if he was on his own here or not…<br/><br/>((EDIT: Depeche Toad?!  Saiai, ROFL!))