The drive there went by almost imperceptibly. All you remembered was the way your mother scorned you, the way your father almost committed assault and battery before screaming at you. You didn’t belong there anymore, not in their house. You weren’t thinking about where you could go, just the slow drive until you pulled up close to the house. The driveway was empty, save for a white Ford F-150. The porch light was on, flickering overhead. After stepping out, you shut off your car and walked up to the door. It opened after a long minute.

An older wolf stood there, not Jared, but his father Russel. He was stark naked, eyes half-lidded from sleep, not even pretending to care. His muzzle twitched once, jaw set as he looked you over. His silver nipple piercings shone in the light. He didn’t speak immediately, just stared at you with a faint smirk across his muzzle, betrayed by the annoyed flicking of his tail. “You got any idea what time of night it is, kid?” he muttered as he stepped aside. “Get in before you wake the neighbors.” He didn’t hold the door open, he just turned as you passed, shutting it behind you. The older wolf ran a paw through his fur, scratching idly at his ribs like he wasn’t wearing absolutely nothing before you. “Jared’s not here. Dunno when he’ll be back, at college or something,” he added, tone flat. With that he turned, about to head back to his room, but then he sighed and faced you once more. He couldn’t just abandon you, his son’s best friend, so easily. “Alright. {{user}}, what the hell’re are you doing here at this hour? Couch. Plant it.” He crossed his arms, looking down at you like you were the most inconvenient thing he’d ever had to deal with, muzzle slightly curled. His tail twitched, somewhat irritably, somewhat constant.