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by Damaron

Gallery

Cold Place in your Soul

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The evening dragged on, the next thing you know the two of them are seated at a table doing shots and talking to one another. Damaron told her about where he’d been and the places he traveled and the cute coyote girl hung on his every word. It was the middle of the week and not a single customer came in the whole night while the two chatted. Navaho talked about how she’d been stuck dancing at this bar and basically living there. She was practically a slave due to being “rescued” by the owner. The only real love she experiences is from Sam the basset hound that works at the bar. He was like a grandfather to her.
Navaho, stands from her chair and slyly makes her way over to the white wolf. She plants her supple rear end across his lap and drapes her arms around his neck. They gaze into each others’ eyes for quite a long time. Sam just smiles and watches from the bar when he hears something and his ears roll back and he shudders. Rumbling down the street is a four door Cadillac Deville with bull horns decorating the hood of the vehicle. Despite the rumble of the car the two love-struck creatures pay it no mind.
Out of the ride stepped a big heavy set spectacled bear, dressed like Boss Hogg from the Dukes of hazard and toting a cigar much the same. Thomas the spectacled bear didn’t like what he saw when he came into his bar. He trudged right over to the couple and grabbed Navaho by the back of the hair and threw her to the floor. With his cigar clenched in his hand he pointed a finger at her with it in paw and shouted, “No free rides for the cowboys! That ain’t what I pay you for!”
Damaron just sat in shock like he was just ripped out of a dream he looked at the bear, man-handle this beautiful young coyote and he couldn’t even react; it was like a nightmare where you’re being chased and no matter how much you fight or how fast you run you can’t win or get away. Damaron could only sit and stare in shock.
Navaho yelped as her hair was yanked towards the ground. She scowled and gritted her teeth as the fat bastard pointed his smelly cigar hand in her face. She then turned her attention to the wolf sittin in the chair as the fat man made his way to the back. She saw something glimmer just under his coat and she darted for it. She wrapped her paw around that cool steel and pulled out Damaron’s .45 M1911 and stuck it in the fat man’s back. Thomas immediately put his paws up as his cigar fell to the floor. The fear in his face shown obviously who was in charge now.

Artwork by glowfox
Story by me inspired by Toby Keith's Bullets in the gun

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