SexyFighters.com

[Jerin Nekros]

I'll be posting the story here. Please no comments in this thread. I've already posted a discussion thread which is here.
http://forums.pleasurebonbon.com/forums/viewtopic.php?t=7750
_________________
My Fursona(updates occasionally) http://forums.pleasurebonbon.com/forums/viewtopic.php?t=7537
"Revenge is a dish that is best served cold. It is very cold in space." - Khan (Ricardo Montalban) Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan

[Jerin Nekros]

Jerin walked down the streets of the Bon Bon. His gray furs rustled as the morning breeze brushed over him. Reaching into a pocket inside his duster, he produced a slim cigarette case. Flipping it open, he withdrew a smoke before closing it and returning it to its place inside his coat. He paused for a moment to fish his lighter from his jean pocket. The flame flared to life in the dim morning light. He held the flame to the cigarette, and pulled a drag on the stick. The embers on the glowed brightly as he inhaled again, and its light seemed to draw a woman from the shadow like a moth to a flame. Jerin saw her in the corner of his eye and bared his teeth in a snarl. He’d been dodging this vixen since he got into town, and she just didn’t seem to get the picture.

She smiled seductively as she drew close to him. “Spend another night alone cowboy?” Her accent wasn’t so thick that he couldn’t understand her, and give where he was, he wasn’t overly surprised she spoke English either, though he was a little by her descision to use it now. “I can fix that if you want.” She reached over to take his arm with hers. He grabbed her arm with his left hand to stop her, and pulled the cigarette from his mouth, flicking it to drop the ash into the streets.

“Listen lady,” he said in annunciated English, not bothering with his crude Italian now that he knew she’d understand him, “I’m not interested. I thought I’d made that clear by now. If that isn’t clear enough for you, hopefully this is. I hate vixens.” He canted his head to the side perking his eyebrows in a dangerous expression. “Is that clear?”

She wrenched her hand free, and backed away from him slowly, a slight look of terror on her face. Jerin put the cigarette back in his mouth, and continued down the street. His memory faded back into his childhood, and the woman that had made his life a living hell.
******************************************************************************

“Give me my knife back Jon!” The young wolf sounded almost pleading, as he looked up at his much older brother. He held his hands open, not wanting to resort to physical violence.

The older boy laughed as he taunted his younger sibling. His reddish fur, and slimmer features showed the vulpine ancestry he inherited from his mother. “I don’t think so bastard, and you can’t do a thing about it.” He held the blade teasingly just out of his half-brother’s reach.

Unlike the rest of his siblings, Jerin didn’t show any hint of fox in him. He heavily favored his father, and what didn’t resemble his father, was still clearly wolf’s blood. This didn’t surprise anyone however, since they all knew he was born from someone besides Samuel’s wife. Unlike his brothers, Jerin didn’t inherit his father’s huskiness. Instead he was thin and wiry.

He knew he didn’t stand a chance in a head on fight with his brother, but nonetheless, he pinned his ears back and clenched his fists. “Give it back now Jon. I’m done being polite.” His voice was low and threatening as his eyes narrowed in an attempt to appear intimidating.

Jon laughed. “Ooooh. I’m so scared,” he said mockingly while feigning terror. Jerin didn’t wait for his brother to recompose himself, but lurched forward with surprising speed, and planted a solid hit in his brother’s stomach. The hunting knife Jon had been holding fell harmlessly to the ground, as the wind was knocked out of him, and he staggered backwards. Once more Jerin didn’t waste the opportunity and tackled him; throwing his full weight into it, he knocked his brother down.
He heard one of his sisters shriek, but it was too late now, he was intent on his task, and he wasn’t stopping for nothing. Planting himself on his brother’s chest, Jerin began to deliver several punishing blows to his brother’s face. Out of nowhere he felt a broom catch him across the chest, and send him tumbling across the grass.

Somewhat dazed from the blow he looked up from his back, and saw Sarah, his father’s wife standing over him. He tried to pick himself up onto his elbows, only to have the broom come smacking down on to him again. “What’d you do this time you brat?!” Her voice was harsh and full of contempt.

Still gasping from the last blow, which had knocked the wind out him, he didn’t answer straight away. This earned another smack of the broom. Forcing him to cough as he rolled onto his side. “I didn’t do anything. Jon stole my knife and wouldn’t give it back.”

She snarled and brought the handle down hard on his back, causing him to yelp in pain. “You lying little bastard. My Jonathan would do no such thing.” She brought the broom handle up again to smack him, but met resistance when she tried to swing it. Looking over her shoulder she saw her husband holding the broom.

His expression was stern as he looked at his wife. “Sarah,” his voice was cold and flat, “what is going on here?” He quirked an eyebrow in a curiously dangerous expression that seemed to tell the woman that lying to him would be a very bad idea.

The vixen pointed down at Jerin who was on his knees by this point. Jon had walked over as well and looked like he was about ready to kick his brother while he was recovering, until he saw his father and though better of it. “That bastard of yours was pummeling our Jonathan in the face.”

Samuel looked down at his youngest as he stiffly rose to his feet. “Jerin is this true?” Still feeling a bit winded, he only nodded in response to his father’s question. His father said only one more word in response. “Why?”

Jerin looked up into his father’s eyes and told him, his voice calm and with out anger. “Jon stole my knife, and he wouldn’t give it back.” He stood there breathing heavily, hands braced against his knees.

Samuel nodded and looked over to his oldest. At seventeen, almost ten years older than his half brother, Samuel was surprised that he’d been losing the fight till his mother had shown up. “Jonathan is this true?”

Jon seemed taken aback, and disbelief was painted on his face. “The brat attacked me-“

Samuel cut him off before he could get any further. “That’s not what I asked. Did you take Jerin’s knife?”

Jon stammered weakly. “Well yeah, but-“ He was cut off again.
“Did he ask you to return it?”

“Yes, but-“ He was silenced with a hand gesture.

Samuel turned back to his youngest. “When in the fight did Jon drop the knife?”

Jerin looked back up at his father. He knew lying was futile. “After I socked him in the gut I think, maybe after I tackled him.”

“And you still continued on to beat your brother in the face?” Jerin only nodded. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I was angry I guess.”

Samuel nodded. “Get your knife, and go to bed. We’ve got an early start in the morning.” Jerin nodded and walked back towards the cabin. Once he was safely out of range Samuel released the broom. “Sarah, I would appreciate it, if you would find out what happened before you beat Jerin bloody.” He turned his gaze to Jon. “As for you Jon, I’m taking Jerin with me into town tomorrow, We’ll be gone most of the day. You’ll be responsible for his chores in addition to your own. If they aren’t done when we get back, what happened to your younger brother will seem like a love tap.”

******************************************************************************
_________________
My Fursona(updates occasionally) http://forums.pleasurebonbon.com/forums/viewtopic.php?t=7537
"Revenge is a dish that is best served cold. It is very cold in space." - Khan (Ricardo Montalban) Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan

[Jerin Nekros]

As he walked along the streets, Jerin continued to smoke his cigarette. The thin plume of smoke from the lit end drifted off into the morning sky. Dawn was cracking now, and few more of the residents of Bon Bon were waking. He’d always been an early riser. Thinking back he tried to recall a time when it was light out when he woke from his evening rest, but there was nothing there. It had always been dark out, though he could remember times from his youth when the sun had begun to rise when he’d finished dressing.
He shrugged his shoulders. His father had said that he’d be well off for it. As Benjamin Franklin had said early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise. He couldn’t deny that the statement held true for him. He was in excellent shape, especially if one considered how many times he’d been shot in the past five years, and he was well enough off. He’d left Australia with two thousand pounds in hard cash. So he was definitely healthy and wealthy, but wise, well that he couldn’t attest to. He wasn’t even sure what it meant to be wise. He’d heard one man say that wisdom was learning from the past, and not repeating the mistakes we had made in the future. He supposed in that regard he was wise.
He stopped outside the Golden Glass, and looked at his cigarette. Taking a final drag from it, he let it fall to the ground, and crushed its smoldering embers under his boot. As he pulled another smoke from the case, he sat down on the steps of the pub. His mind began to wander into the past again as he lit the stick.
******************************************************************************

It was still dark out when Jerin awoke the next morning. His father hadn’t come to get him yet, so he knew he wasn’t late. He had his own room, more to the effect of avoiding trouble with his two brothers, than favoritism. It was small, and had enough space in it for his bed, and a small dresser that sat along one wall. The rooms lone window sat above the head of his bed, and allowed enough light into the room to see by, and little more. As he sat up, he swung his feet over the side of the bed, and planted them on the cold earthen floor. A few minutes later, he was dressed, and ready for the day ahead.
His father knocked on his door as dawn cracked, and the first rays of light illuminated the world. “You ready to go Jerin?” Jerin opened the door and nodded. As he walked past the kitchen, he cut a slice of bread and smeared some jam on it for his breakfast. Holding the bread in his mouth, he pulled his boots on. His father stood there holding a Henry rifle. With out a word they both walked outside.
Jerin hitched the horses up to the buckboard quickly. He was usually one who drove the wagon into town, so he knew the tack like the back of his hand. However when he prepared to step up to the drivers side, his father stopped him smiling. Handing the rifle over he said. “I’m driving today boy, you get to ride shotgun. Jerin grinned, and took the Rifle walking behind the wagon to the other side, and mounted up.
They rode in silence most of the way, and Jerin kept his eyes open for trouble. The rides were usually quiet. Occasionally there was a wild animal or two that had to be dealt with, but as a rule nothing happened.
At one point during the ride Samuel looked over at his son and sighed. “Jerin, I know life hasn’t exactly been easy on you.” Jerin rolled his eyes, as if to say that what he’d just heard was an understatement. “And in all honety, a fair amount of it’s my fault. If I’d kept my gear where it belonged, none of this would’ve happened. But on the other hand, if it hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t have you either, and regardless of what Sarah says, you are special, and I believe you were meant to do something great in this world.”
Now it was Jerin’s turn to sigh. “Sure, if they don’t kill me first. I can’t do anything to make them happy, and its just so damn frustrating. All I want is to be a part of this family, but regardless of what I do, they won’t let me in.”
“Jerin,” Samuel said patiently, “there’s just no pleasing some people. Believe me I used to be in the same boat, trying to make everyone else happy, and the only thing it did is make me miserable. The only person you can ever really make happy is yourself. And regardless of what anyone else thinks of it, as long as your happy, and you can sleep with yourself at night, that’s all that really matters. As for being part of this family, you’re my son, and you’ll always be part of my family.”
Jerin looked over to his father and smiled. “Thanks Dad.”
******************************************************************************
_________________
My Fursona(updates occasionally) http://forums.pleasurebonbon.com/forums/viewtopic.php?t=7537
"Revenge is a dish that is best served cold. It is very cold in space." - Khan (Ricardo Montalban) Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan