This is the second of two drabbles posted today. Don't miss the previous one!
Kurt avoids Puck whenever he can, keeping an eye out for that silver and black fur and running the opposite direction. He's not afraid of Puck per se, but Kurt is afraid of what happens whenever they get too close together.
It shouldn't even work that way. Kurt and Puck are just different from one another - Kurt spends most of the day preening his dark red fur and thinking, occasionally taking the time to catch something to eat, while Puck spends most of his day gnawing on bones and chasing smaller animals, playing with them cruelly before killing them.
Why does it have to be this way?
Why does Kurt feel compelled to dart alongside Puck as he trots through his territory? Why does he take long, deep breaths of the coyote's scent? Why does he give into the magnetic pull of Puck's toothy smile? Why can't Kurt control himself?
This time, Kurt thinks to himself, looking down from the stars at the world he and Puck accidentally created with their mating, I think I'll try populating this one with people. That world full of shrimp was just not as entertaining as I thought it would be.
Standing over Kurt and licking the fox's jaw playfully, Puck thinks, I think I'll name this one Earth.
This is based off a Native American creation myth and I wrote it while half asleep. Sorry it makes no sense