This Little Doggie...
Wally was changing from his scrubs into his training togs when his father called. Out of habit, he answered before he could stop himself. As a result, he was stuck tethered to the land line which gave him only a good ten feet of cord. For a wolf like himself, that was barely two strides. His nails, which had grown back to claws since filing them down this morning, picked meat from his many, many teeth with the effort to speak calmly and rationally to his father.
He wasn't good at lying to his father.
His father seemed to insist on it, however.
"Pa... Peter's fine... he got back from a business trip and had a relapse. Well... I meant he's fine as far as these relapses go... he's JUST exhausted... he JUST needs rest... Look, Pa... I gotta go, the boys are waiting for me... NO. We're going bowling. NO. I'm not having sex with any of them. Of course they have bowling ball that will fit my mitts... Pa, it's a 37 pound ball... I don't know how much it cost... Peter bought it for me... Yes, Peter buys me too many things... Pa! Peter and I are Mated. My money is his money and his money is mine... why are you giving me the fifth degree? What? Sure I remember, Sheila..,"
Wally texted the training lab tech, that he was delayed, as his father discussed Sheila being a Lesbian and her new partner, who was also a Wolf. Today's society was more forgiving to same sex couple of different species than same sex/same species couples. Neither of those points were news to Wally, who had dated a few wolves male and female, including Sheila, before falling for Peter. Part of that was he so much bigger than a normal wolf in every way, and part of the wolf scene was about who dominated who.
That went for the traditional couples scene and the Neo-Packs. The trouble was, Wally had so many throwback attributes that these made him a very big, scary wolf. His teeth were too big and there were too many of them. Wally could fold one hand over his father's skull. He had done so once, his thumb nail clicking with his forefinger's tip. His normal stride was easily five feet across.
And his private parts... well, thank god, Peter was a size queen.
But for all that Wally was soft hearted and artistic and needed a caring but practical decision maker for a Mate.
But he was happy when Sheila got married. He had stood as best man at their Civil Mating Ceremony. Something his father seemed to forget... he glanced at the calender and realized that Sheila's and Leeta's 5th anniversary was coming up just as his father brought it up...
"Of course, I'll help Sheila get Leeta a special gift. What does she want? A portrait? … Pa... Pa... why are you laughing?"
Wally could only answer with silence. He blinked and drooled a little too.
His father asked if he was still there.
"Pa... I'm not going to breed. I'm not." Wally knew his lines were tapped and all he could think of was Voigt listening to the recording and NOT laughing. "Pa... my life was hard enough as a throwback. I'm not inflicting that onto another child... yes, I know you want grandchildren..."
Wally knew his father had no idea that Wally knew why he was an only child. Peter and Voigt had uncovered the x-rays and sonograms in searching for a way to control Primal. Wally had killed his litter-mates in the womb and when he left, he tore up the canal so no one could follow him. He felt very guilty about that. Wolves never had Only Childs.
"Pa, yes, I do indeed know for a fact that I will have throwback children." He pounded the wood paneling that covered the industrial brick of their apartment. Dust trickled down from the ceiling. "Pa, that's my ride... gotta go."
He hung up before his dad could say anything else. Wally howled in frustration and then clamped his muzzle shut with both hands. Deep breath. Control.
Control.
He simply could not tell his father that he was cursed. Nor could he tell his father that his children would be cursed, too. He knew, that, beyond any doubt.
He had his Time Travel Merit Badge.
The phone rang again, but with an extra ultrasonic ping that only a few throwbacks could hear. He was one of them. He picked up the receiver again, all business like. He couldn't find a pen, so he got ready to carve some notes into the wall. No biggie. If the apartment wasn't secure, the phone lines wouldn't be either. "Hello?" There was a quick exchange of greetings that told him that this wasn't an emergency and that everything was secure; including the caller's line.
"Yes, we lost Pig Iron, but Peter's OK... he's exhausted... but he popped back into existence over his bed as he always does, although the distance was something fierce... he's too weak to go back in, unless we get it back here. He needs to heal anyway. He was inside the golem too long. He can barely move... no, compared to how he could move when he went in... I should have never let him stay in there so long... no, he was starting to get... aggressive... no, I mean... he wanted to use things on me... a little... I survived... well, it wasn't silver, so thanks to the curse... Rita, stop shouting... I know when to say no... …look... ...look... I said no when he wanted to wield some accessories to his golem body. Yes, I know that should have been my first clue... actually, my first clue was when he did a debriefing as Pig Iron..."
Wally looked at his watch, on the counter. He was already running late. "Look, Rita, I'm standing here in my merkin. Voigt's got a salvage team on it... no, I'm not going to the Gulf of Mexico. Primal's aquaphobic, so no... yeah, part of the chronic rabies of the Primal Curse... speaking of which, Feral's waiting."
Rita tried to tell him more, but he said his good byes and she let him go.