He hadn’t done it since he was a kid. Days pressed his palms into his eyes, tight, and spun. He twirled in circle, like a dancer or ice skater. It was silly. He knew it. Mom said it would make him go blind.
The gryphon stopped as soon as it hurt.
Next, he snapped back his head, spread out his wings, reached with his arms, and looked up at the night sky. The stars appeared from a murky darkness, as if pulled from a thick, black tar. He flew. At least that was the feeling, even if it only lasted for the briefest moment.
Unable to keep his balance, Days fell backwards, landing on the grass that covered the small hill behind the Oregon State Swim Center. It was a hot night. The gryphon appreciated the small amount of moisture left by the evening routine of the university’s sprinkler system. The sweet smells of summer, the perfume of dyeing flowers and drying grass, reminded him of a time spent with his sister. The thought would’ve made him sad, if he wasn’t promptly interrupted.
“If a tree falls with no one around, does it make a sound?” The sky, still slightly swirling, filled with the smiling face of an otter named Bishop. “If the sun sets without a see, does it contain beauty?” As a philosophy major, he gave far too much thought to the first thing he would say when meeting friends. “If a shooting star has no one to recall, did it ever truly fall?”
“Of course,” replied the gryphon. “Sound is caused by the movement of air particles.” As an engineering student, Days never saw the need for philosophy.
“That’s not the point.” Bishop flopped himself down beside the gryphon. The plastic bag in his hand made a clinking sound as it met the ground. “Blueberry tea? I got it at the convenience store.”
The gryphon sat up and accepted the can with a suspicious smile.
“Ha ha! Your expression.” The otter chuckled as he took the second for himself. The can cracked and hissed as it opened. “Don’t worry. I’m not spying on you. Oats told me you love this stuff.”
Oats was the nickname for Oata Rinsky, a Samoyed dog and common friend. Unlike the gryphon, Bishop grew up in the same town as her. Can you imagine? Living in the same town as Oata? Days couldn’t help but feel a small twinge of jealousy.
“Thanks.”
“It’s the least I can do,” said Bishop. “If you fix my phone, I owe you a hundred cans of this stuff.”
For a moment, they sat and said nothing. The song of crickets, the hum of the halogen streetlamp, and occasional slurp of tea filled the silence. “Do you like it?” asked Days.
“Hell no!” The otter gave a big grin. “I don’t know how you drink this stuff. Wait. You already finish yours? Wow.” He offered his can. “Want it? I’m not going to finish it.”
“Uh. Ok.” Days didn’t normally share food or drinks. He wasn’t afraid of germs. It just felt really personal, like something a couple would do after twenty dates. It didn’t help that he’d never kissed anyone. Did it count if you shared a can of tea with someone? Was the exchange of saliva an important part of kissing?
“What are you thinking about?” asked the otter.
Crap! The gryphon had been staring at the can for too long. He quickly took a drink. It did taste different, if only a little. “Your riddle. I was… I was thinking about that. Yeah. You said it had a purpose?”
“If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around, does it make a sound? It’s a philosophy question. You’re supposed to think about the importance and meaning of observation.”
Days suddenly felt very nervous. Diagnosed with a minor form of Schizoid Personality Disorder, the gryphon always struggled in social situations. He liked Bishop, although they rarely talked. The otter was incredibly handsome, with a thin body made muscular from a lifetime of active swimming. His deep brown fur carried a slick shine that Days would never get with his feathers. Charming and confident, Bishop never seemed out of place talking to anyone, including cute females.
In fact, the otter was the first non-family-member that Days saw naked. It happened during summer vacation, on a very similar day. One morning, Oata declared that they needed to go camping. Naturally, she kidnapped her friends (Walter, Days, and Bishop) and dragged them to Strawberry Lake. When they arrived, the otter suddenly dropped his pants and jumped into the water. He didn’t even remove his shirt.
Days remembered clearly when Bishop returned to the shore. The dripping water sparkled in the summer sun. The wet t-shirt clung to the muscles on the otter’s chest and belly. Nothing was hidden, especially between his legs. Two perfect orbs that—
“Days, does that make sense?”
Apparently Bishop had been explaining things. That happened often. Days would get lost in his thoughts and miss something important. He found himself staring at the can in his hand, at the spot where Bishop’s lips had rested. “But… Importance of observation? Why?”
Bishop put his hand on the gryphon’s shoulder, using it to push himself up. “Life. Perhaps that’s the meaning of life, just to be a witness. You know, watch things bigger than us. Things more important.”
Days stood too. “So we’re all just watchers on God’s YouTube account?”
Bishop burst into laughter. “Yeah, maybe.”
The gryphon followed the otter to the backdoor of the swimming center. “Thanks for meeting me here,” said Bishop. “Hope it wasn’t too far.”
“I walked. Only two hours.”
“What?” The otter approached the lock on the backdoor. It took him a moment to find the key in his cargo pants, too many pockets. “I thought you lived down the street.”
“I’m out at Arbor Grove. No worries. Not like I got anything better to do on a Friday night.” It may have sounded sarcastic, but Days rarely had weekend plans.
“Geez. Let me drop you off, at least.” They entered the swimming center. The lights from outside the building flooded through the glass doors, spilling along the linoleum floors. “I just drove back from work. I thought this would be a good place to meet. Sorry.”
Days hated when someone felt guilty, so he changed the subject, “You come here every night?”
“Yep. I came so often, they gave me a key.” The otter didn’t turn on any lights. He lead them through dim and dark corridors without hesitation. “It’s the most lazy security gig. I check the place every night and I get unlimited access to the pools.”
As they walked, the otter periodically bumped into the gryphon’s side. It was a thing he did with friends. For some reason, Days found it comforting. He even found himself anticipating the contact and leaning into it.
“Aaaaand, here we are,” said Bishop.
They arrived at the main pools. The room was dark, except for the glow coming from the safety lights at the bottom of each pool. The ripples on the surface danced on the walls, bands of light that wiggled and shifted in an undefinable pattern. It almost felt like they were underwater in the air.
Bishop noticed the gryphon’s reaction. “Yeah, I love it here. The smell of the water and chlorine. The sound of the wet tiles smacking under your feet. The chill in the air.”
“I’ve never been to a pool,” said Days.
“Can you swim?” asked the otter.
“Not really.” He lifted his wings. “Feathers take forever to dry. Especially when soaked.”
“Never thought about that. Huh.” Bishop handed him his cell phone. “Anyway, here it is. Take a seat anywhere. The password is 1379, the corners.”
“You said the browser keeps crashing?”
“Yep. And I haven’t gone to any strange sites. I look at all the crazy porn on my laptop.” Bishop gave a wink.
Days looked away so he didn’t have to blush. “Ok. Give me a few minutes.”
“Great. I’ll check the rest of the building. Bee-arr-bee.”
The gryphon picked one of the lounge chairs by the lap pool in the corner. His fur and feathers stuck through the rubber slats. He couldn’t help the rush he felt when he unlocked Bishop’s phone. It was like having complete access to someone’s most private secrets.
Focus, Days told himself, but he couldn’t stop his curiosity. It started with something innocent. He looked at the browser history. To be fair, it may have given him some clue on what was causing the issues. Also, the browser might reproduce the problem and crash. That would be handy.
The last site Bishop had visited was A Beginners Guide to Understanding Gryphon Body Language. The article started with, ‘Gryphons can be tricky. While most of us use our tails and ears to indicate mood, gryphons display more of their emotions subtly with their wings.’ Days couldn’t help but flex his feathers. Could his wings really betray him? Great, just one more thing to focus on and control when in public.
Before that was a search for ‘where to buy Xing blueberry iced tea’. Then came a large chunk of searches related to road laws and semi trucks — all part of the otter’s job. In the morning, Bishop visited a website for beauty products called Flash Fur and Feathers. According to his email, the otter placed an order for a ‘waterproof, fur darkening dye’. Okay, the transition to the emails only seemed natural.
The majority of Bishop’s mails came from his parents, like one every twelve hours. Days felt a twinge of jealousy. His parents never contacted him. They were proud of his sister, but him? Mom and Dad could care less.
Days felt a sudden rush of guilt. He knew he shouldn’t be going through Bishop’s phone like this. But, he was learning so much about his friend, if he could call the otter a friend. Of course he could! Right? They meet up all the time, when Oata invited them both out to see a movie or something.
He had to stop! Spying like this wasn’t fair. Just one more thing. The gryphon quickly navigated to the text messages. Clicking on the conversation with Oats, he read only the most recent:
The gryphon felt his pulse pounding. Reading Oata’s private conversation about him tickled his heart. She was joking, but the fact that she mentioned him having sex was thrilling. He just wished Bishop had been more enthusiastic about the suggestion.
Crash! There was an unexpected noise. The gryphon looked around quickly, expecting an otter to be rushing in his direction. He’d snatch the phone away and never talk to Days again. Turns out it was just one of the cleaning booms falling over.
He was still alone.
There were a lot more texts with Oats, but Days decided not to read them. He just quickly scrolled up and saw that there weren’t nearly as many as he expected. He thought the Samoyed and otter were really close, but they didn’t text each other often. At least, she texted Days a lot more. Of course, she was the only one messaging him. Her and Wally, that is.
Bishop, on the other hand, had hundreds of people texting him. His phone was full of conversations, many of them still active. Darcy, Amber, Mia, Natalie, Olivia, Penny. As far as the gryphon could tell, they were all from females. Did the otter really have that many girlfriends?
“You figure it out yet?” The voice filled the empty hall.
Days almost dropped the phone. “Uh, uh, almost. Just need a few more minutes.”
Bishop came over and took a seat on the lounge chair beside the gryphon. “So it isn’t broken? You can fix it?”
To be honest, Days hadn’t spent any time actually investigating the issue. “Sure. I think so. Probably. Maybe. Ahahaha.”
“Sweet,” said Bishop. “I really can’t afford to get a new one.”
“Well, if I can’t get it fixed, you can always download one of the other browsers.“
“Oh.” The otter stared at him. “There are other browsers? They use the same internet?”
“Yes. You see they’re all just talking to servers that use the HTTP protocol,” explained the gryphon. “See, webpages are simply static files w—“
“Days, I’m joking. I’m not that computer dumb. Close, but not grandma bad.”
This time, the gryphon laughed. “Sorry.” He looked at the phone. It felt like there was so much more treasure to be found. “Uhm, I still need some time. Maybe you should swim or something?”
“Oh trust me,” said the otter, “I want to. But I came straight from work. My trunks are still at the apartment.”
“You don’t need trunks. You could swim naked,” suggested Days.
The otter cocked an eyebrow. “Guess I could. You wouldn’t mind?”
“Why would I?” Oh crap. Why did he say that? Days caught himself too late. He felt his wings beginning to tuck in, a sure sign of embarrassment. “I mean, I mean, I… ehh… it’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before.”
The otter stood up and pulled his shirt off over his head. “When? Where are your spy cameras?”
Days stared at the otters chest. It was muscular, but not too much. The gryphon didn’t like guys with massive muscles, it looked too angry. He preferred males like Walter, big but not jacked. Wait, he had a preference in guys? This time, the gryphon couldn’t stop his wings from trying to hide. “Strawberry Lake!”
Bishop dropped his shirt and started to undo his belt. “What?”
“In high school. Oats dragged us to Strawberry Lake to camp. You swam naked then. Not that I was looking or anything.”
“Oh yeah.” The otter freed his belt and paused. He got lost in a memory and smiled. “I almost forgot. That was a nice trip. We should do it again.” Bishop dropped his pants, leaving only his boxers between him and complete nakedness.
Days stammered, “No, no, no one said you had to get naked here. You can swim in one of those other pools.”
“Figured I’d stay close. Then if you have any questions, you can holler at me.” The otter turned his back and dropped his boxers.
Days couldn’t help but admire the well formed back and long thick tail of the naked male standing before him. “Looks good.” Why did he say that? Everyone likes complements, right? “A compliment, that’s what it was,” he found himself explaining.
The otter walked to the nearest pool. He looked back over his shoulder. “You want to see the rest?” He winked. Cheeky bastard.
“Ha ha! Thanks, but I’m good,” said the gryphon.
The otter got ready to jump in the pool, keeping his tail lowered to keep his rear and private area well concealed. “Well, I’m pretty sure you can find one or two naked photos of me on that phone, if you want.” Bishop suddenly raised his tail, giving Days a perfect peek of his dangling bits, just before he leapt into the pool.
The splash hadn’t even finished and Days was already well into the photos on Bishop’s phone. His mind told him to stop, but he couldn’t. The curiosity must’ve come from the half of him that was feline.
There were a lot of selfies! An entire album was devoted to just pictures taken of Oata. That seemed excessive. Then there was the the folder called ‘Private’. Days always wondered why people did that. If someone got access to your computer or phone, a folder titled ‘Private’ would be like a Free T-Shirts sign at a video game convention. That’s why Days had a folder called ‘Work’ to hold all his embarrassing files. Who would look in that?
There were naked photos, but not just of the otter. Apparently all those females that were texting Bishop also sent risky pictures. Days felt an odd sense of disappointment that they were all female. A few of them were marked as favorites. It looked like Bishop had a clear love for butt shots. Anything with a raised tail.
Then that’s when he found it: the dick pic. Of course, if Bishop was regularly sexting the ladies, he would have one of those on hand. Days stared. He always heard that otters were kinda small, but not this one.
“How’s it going?” Another perfectly timed interruption, Bishop rested his chin on the edge of the pool.
Days replied with too much enthusiasm, “Good! I mean, good.”
“You’re too cute,” is what it sounded like the otter said, before leaping back beneath the water.
Ok, fix the phone. Days made himself focus. It would look too suspicious if he didn’t at least figure out the cause. Fortunately, the solution was easy enough. It only took a minute to fix, which was good, because the gryphon had something else that needed his attention. He went back to the picture of Bishop’s cock.
The effects of the image traveled through the entire body of Days. He rarely looked at porn online. First, he was always sure someone would catch him. Second, he rarely found anyone attractive (another symptom of his social disorder). Who would want to watch strangers having sex? It would be without context or emotion. It would be like watching a mechanical process, like how potato chips are made. Who would get excited by that?
But this was so different. Not only did he know Bishop, but there was something extra exciting about it being a secret. How many got to see that otter’s penis? Days was probably the first male to see it too! That thought made his feathers perk and prickle. Two females had seen the gryphon’s penis, but never another male. Would one ever see it? Probably not. Why would they want to?
Days decided to send the naughty photo to himself, but was interrupted again. This time, he was bumped as a large weight settled at the foot of his lounge chair. It was Bishop, naked and dripping wet. The otter just sat there for a moment, not looking at the gryphon. He remained motionless, naked, drying, his slick fur easily repelling the water and swelling. He almost looked like a blooming flower recovering from a sudden, heavy summer rain.
The gryphon tried to say something, but he couldn’t. He’d been caught! Did Bishop know what he was looking at? Of course. He must have. Why else would he just sit there in silence? The otter had to be angry, so overwhelmed with a sense of betrayal and anger. “I’m sor—“
Bishop interrupted yet again, this time with a slow smile. The otter turned warm and inviting eyes towards the gryphon. “You’re rather focused.”
Days suddenly realized his foot was resting against the naked hip of his friend. He quickly pulled his leg back. “Yeah, yeah. I figured it out. I just had to remove a VPN setting and install an ad-blocker. This is a known problem. Apple will have a fix out soon. Did you know that Apple made their phones waterproof just for otters? At least that’s what I heard. Haha! You can even take it underwater, but not too deep. Here. You can have it back.” Days hesitated a little before stretching out his arm and offering the phone.
Bishop’s expression never changed. He continued his warm and heartfelt smile. He didn’t take the phone, just letting it hang there between them. “You were diagnosed with that social disorder, right?”
“Schizoid, yeah.” Days leaned forward sharply and put the phone on the otter’s lap. He couldn’t help but see the brief view of the shapes between his friend’s legs.
“You don’t see the value in social interaction. Right?” asked the otter.
“It’s not like that. Well sorta. I just don’t like anyone. Or rather, there aren’t many I like. Maybe two or three.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. They say it’s a problem in my brain. I just think it is too much effort to manage those things. You know. The more friends, the less you can devote to each one. And I just don’t have much to offer. And… why are we talking about this?”
The otter turned, putting both legs on the lounge chair. He crawled, moving forward until he straddled the gryphons hips with his own.
Days felt a crazy mixture of panic and excitement. He didn’t know what to do with himself. He thought about looking away, but his eyes kept firmly locked on the furry sheath and large balls lifted above the V of the otter’s legs. It was all on display. He started to breathe rapidly.
Bishop slowly put his palms on the the belly of Days. He continued his smile but kept his eyes downturned. Water dripped from his edges, marking the fabric of the gryphon’s pants and shirt. He waited, for what felt like a long time, until Days calmed down.
“If a tree falls in a forest,” said the otter.
“What?” asked the gryphon.
“The meaning of life,” said Bishop. “Maybe, we’re just here to witness.” He looked up, making eye contact with Days. “To experience things bigger and better than us.”
“Me?”
The otter nodded, letting his hands slowly drift down the front of his friend.
The gryphon tried not to tremble. He couldn’t help it. Honestly, it tickled. There were so many places that no one had ever touched on him. “You must use that line on every one. Right?”
“No,” said the otter, his voice filled with a sincerity that couldn’t be denied. “There is no one else like you, Days. You live separate but somehow you still care. I don’t know why I never saw it before.”
“You hardly know me,” said Days, unsure why he would protest.
“You’re right, but I want to change that.” Bishops palms settled on the bulge in the gryphon’s pants. “I want to be…” He gave a squeeze that made the gryphon’s toes curl with pleasure. “I want to be your witness.” He rubbed Days again, causing another shiver of joy in the gryphon. “Even if it is for a little while.”
Something broke in Days. It wasn’t bad. This was a good thing. Like a wall, or a barrier, or some stupid self-made sense of doubt, something crumbled. Maybe those beautiful sensations and trembles caused the cracks. Whatever it was, the gryphon relaxed.
Bishop undid the button and zipper on the pants beneath him. He was stopped as a hadn’t grabbed his wrist.
“Wait,” said Days. “For you. Let me do something for you.” He pulled the otter, guiding him up his body.
“You sure? But you fixed my phone. I owe you.” The otter ended up straddling the gryphon’s chest. “I don’t want to crush your wings.”
“Just feathers.”
For some reason, that comment made the otter giggle with joy. “Just feathers, huh?” He suddenly grabbed the gryphon’s head, cradled it before putting a kiss on the large beak. “How’s this going to work?”
Days put his hands on the thighs of Bishop. Like all gryphons, he learned at a young age to be very mindful of his large talons. Still, the tips easily slipped through the otter’s fur, pricking the skin ever so slightly. Days watched a visible shiver ripple through the brown fur of his friend. “In my mouth,” he said.
“But your beak. Isn’t it sharp?” Bishop couldn’t help himself and gave it another kiss.
“Not really. At least the sides. Just… maybe not.” Days couldn’t keep the disappointment from his voice. “Maybe this won’t work. I just wanted to…”
“I want it too,” said Bishop, moving even higher on his friend, his crotch now positioned directly in front of the gryphon’s beak.
Days crossed his eyes to see the sight before him. The otter’s large balls and plump sheath were on full display. The tip of the penis was already out and quickly growing. It only took a moment for the otter to become fully aroused. It looked so much softer and larger than in the photo. The gryphon reached out and touched it lightly. “You sure you want this.”
“Yes!” shouted Bishop. “I’ve never felt this horny.”
Days enjoyed the otter’s forceful reaction. “You ever done this before? I’ve never…” He felt his friend’s strong pulse coursing through the length of his cock.
“No,” said Bishop. “Never with another guy. Now just shut up and open your beak.”
Days obeyed. He opened his beak wide, tilting his head up and back, hoping it would give the otter the best access. The otter was now leaning full over him, bracing one hand on the back of the lounge chair, grabbing the gryphon’s head with the other.
Bishop wasn’t kidding about being overwhelmed. He drove the tip of his cocked sharply into the the mouth of his friend. There was a momentary pause. Days loved the feeling. He felt all of the otter’s length along his tongue. There was that rhythm, the twitching of the cock to match Bishop’s racing heart.
Days was going to try swirling his tongue around, but he didn’t have a chance. Bishop started to hump. Clinging tight to the back of the gryphon’s head, the otter repeatedly thrusted his cock along the length of the gryphon’s large tongue. He went deep, until his belly met the top of that beak and his balls bumped the bottom of the chin. At the max of his thrust, the tip of the otter’s cock tickled the back of the gryphon’s throat. It was almost too much, but Days refused to protest. He wanted this. He wanted Bishop to experience the best.
And he did. The otter was flooded with sensations he’d never felt. The surprisingly large tongue of the gryphon provided a smooth and complete stroking of the bottom of his cock. The edge of the beak, firm and hard, scrapped along the top of the otter’s penis. The contrast of feelings was thrilling. The feathers between his fingers, as he held onto the gryphon’s skull, gave a perfect grip. He even loved the feeling of his balls smacking against Days.
Bishops had gotten a fair number of blowjobs from his female companions. He would admit, he loved them. There was something that felt so powerful and dominant about it. He liked the idea of controlling something. But nothing he’d felt before compared to this. He was losing control. He knew that this may hurt Days, or put him off male partners forever, but he couldn’t stop. He wanted this for himself. The otter needed it.
Fortunately, Days was in heaven. He felt so small. Bishop was his sky. The otter’s belly and chest arched over him. The scent of wet fur, the raw and wild smell of his friend, filled his nose. There were drops of cold water that periodically slipped under his feathers or beneath his fur, but they only reminded him of the immense heat of his lover’s aroused body. Any distance between them, when Bishop pulled back, quickly disappeared. The gryphon loved the sensation of their bodies filling up each other’s gaps. Then there was the noise. The uncontrolled grunts and gasps made a melody for a song that Days wished would get stuck in his head forever.
“I’m about…” As Bishop reached his limit, he started to pull back. Days reacted instinctually, putting his hands on the otter’s rump. That was all his lover needed. Bishop drove himself deep with one last powerful thrust. It would’ve choked the gryphon if the rubbery straps of the lounge chair hadn’t yielded just enough. The otter latched onto the skull of the gryphon with both hands.
Days adored the throbbing of the otter’s cock. The climax was hard, strong, and long. Bishop’s entire body clinched as his seed squirted down the gryphon’s throat. He gave every drop, refusing to let go until completely done.
The gryphon also climaxed. He couldn’t help himself. The situation was far too thrilling. Also, the occasional touches of the otter’s large tail across his crotch was more than enough stimulation. His own seed filled the fabric of his boxers and the fur of his belly.
Completely spent, Bishop rolled off his companion. Of course, this meant landing on the floor beside the lounge chair. Only one of his feet remained up on his partner. “That was… incredible.” He continued to brethe heavy, very happy for the cool touch of the tiles beneath his back.
Days looked down at his sprawled companion. “It was. Hope my beak didn’t hurt you.”
“The top of my prick is a little sore, but man… worth it!” The otter couldn’t stop smiling. “I think you just became my new favorite fetish, Days.”
“So you enjoyed it?”
“Very much! Best blowjob of my life. By far!” said Bishop. “You sure you haven’t been practicing with someone else?”
“No! I swear,” declared the gryphon. “I can get even better for you. This was my first.”
“You’re too cute. But that would mean a lot of practice.” Bishop pulled out a long red feather from under his back. “Mind if I keep this?”
“If you want,” Days looked away, trying to hide his immense new bout of blushing.
Bishop sat up. “Do you want me to…”
“No, I’m good,” said the gryphon. “I definitely need a change of underwear.”
“Well, let me drive you back to your place. Maybe we can stop by a drive-thru.” The otter chucked. “Do you get hungry after sex? I always do?”
“But I like the taste in my mouth.”
“Oh god!” It was Bishop’s turn to blush. “You’re too much. Let’s go.”
It took awhile for the two to collect their things and exit the building. Bishop did his usual walk, bumping into Days as they navigated the halls. This time, the gryphon bumped back.
As they enter the parking lot, the couple was greeted by a strong breeze. It smelled of summer and a long warm night ahead.
“Hey Bishop. I’ve been thinking about your riddle. If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around, does it make a sound?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s a infallible conjecture. Meaning it can’t be proved or disproved,” explained the gryphon.
“Oh. I had no idea.” They reached the car, a 1985 Honda Prelude coupe. Bishop walked to the opposite side and leaned his arms against the top of the roof. “Sounds like science.”
“It just means that you’re right,” said Days. ”The meaning of life may be to witness. Nothing can happen without a point of reference.”
The otter gave a big grin. “And I’m the philosophy major?”
“I’m just trying to say thanks,” said Days. “For helping something exist.”
Bishop gave a wink and unlocked the car. “So, any plans for the weekend?”
Inside the car, Days replied, “No. Might play some DOTA.”
“I got it off. How about we go camping?” suggested the otter. “We could get a cabin by Strawberry Lake.”
“Really? That would be amazing.”
“Let’s go by my place and I’ll grab some stuff. Then we’ll go to yours and crash for the night. We’ll set out tomorrow.” The otter kept up his smile. “Deal?”
“It’ll be an adventure! We can buy stuff for a picnic and,” the gryphon perked up, his wings snapping out and filling far too much of the vehicle, “we could do D&D!”
“D&D?” Bishop started the car.
“Dungeons and Dragons. Have you ever done it before?”
The otter shook his head, “Can’t say that I have, but with that enthusiasm, how can I say no?”
“This is gonna be the best weekend ever,” declared the gryphon.
“You know what?” replied the otter. “You might be right.”