This story is obviously as work in progress, but any constructive criticism is welcome.
War
It seemed only yesterday that U.S. Forces invaded a F-Camp in Southern Canada. Nobody could forget it, but at the same time not many knew what to do about it. A few did... We few rose up against the U.S. Forces and began the war that would define the future for Fs. Fs, that was what they called us, it was short for “furries”.Furries used to be a harmless community that would live amongst the normal population. After the invention of a cheap splice that would turn the into an anthropomorphic creature, they were no longer part of the normal population or even the entire human species. The human population didn't accept the furries, called them freaks, and sent them to a camp in Southern Canada to live out their days.
I was no exception, I lived amongst them because I was and still am one of them. My parents refused to leave and were killed on the porch of our house. The Collector's excuse? They became “hostile”.I had to go, for fear of my own life. It was a long trip, cramped on school buses converted into mobile cages. They treated us as they treated their own animals. When we arrived at the camp their was almost nothing there for us. Rows and rows of tents as far as the eye can see. Each of us was branded with a barcode and assigned a tent with up to 3 other Furrs.
Three years we lived in that degrading camp, making do with what we had. Then it happened. The U.S. Decided we were a threat and needed to be eliminated. We had no armed forces and couldn't even defend ourselves, or at least most of us couldn't. On the day of the attack, a small group of Furrs fought back and they fought well. They came from the forest, some with knives, some with bows. They were obviously all hand(or paw you could say)made weapons. They managed to fight off the group of 29 U.S. Marines.
Then, just as quickly as they appeared they ran back to the forest. I had to follow them. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me in their direction, steadily catching up. Finally I met with them and joined them on the long journey back to their camp. It was a clearing with several tents from the camp and a fire pit in the middle. They didn't mind and nobody talked much. Finally broke the silence with a simple “Who are you?”. Most remained silent, but one finally spoke up. “We are the resistance”, a burly-looking bear replied. “We are here to teach America that they can't treat us like pests to be exterminated off the face of the planet”, he continued. “You can't possibly compete with the U.S. Army with just knives and arrows”, I replied. “But we don't have to”, replied a small Arctic Fox. “What do you mean?”, I asked. “Rumor is that the Canadian government is sending us weapons secretly”, replied the bear. “You can't possibly believe that!”, said another older red fox emerging from the forest, with a large pile of firewood. He threw the wood on the fire, then sat down next to me.
“Listen...”, “Taox is my name”, I interjected. “Listen Taox, Don't you believe for a second that those humans will do anything for us Fs, let alone give us weapons!”, he continued. No one objected so I assumed he was right.
Topic: Forgive me if it doesn't belong in this section (Read 934 times)