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"description": "The brisk evening air whipped through the down windows of an old Ford pick-up truck. The sun was still up a ways in the sky settling in on evening dusk to nearly setting. The white wolf leaned a bit out the window using the door as an elbow rest and his right paw on the wheel; feeling the wind through his fur while he sucked back on a torpedo cigar, the embers glowing on the end like the ones in a died down camp fire. His blue eyes glinting as he stared down the dusty road traversing near the border of Southern Arizona.\nHis appetite was getting the better of him, exhaling from his nostrils the burning tobacco smoke. He’d been on the road now for several hours just like a wild and restless drifter or some kind of cowboy in a song. Lights up ahead signified a place that just might prove to be useful for dealing with that growl in the gut. Cowboy boot clad foot revved the engine and accelerated closer to the source. On the Border Bar; flickered the red neon sign with a smaller set of words spelling in bold letters GO-GO just below it. Taking a long drag on the cigar Damaron pulled up to the place parking just up front with only two other cars.\n“Hmm… Not much business for a dive like this so late in the day,” Damaron thought to himself. He turned the keys halting the engines rough idle, opening up the drivers side door and stepping out into the now sun setting sky, that cast a soft pink and orange colors over the landscape. In a sand n’ gravel dessert the setting sun doesn’t look much prettier anywhere else. Damaron made his way up the front steps leading into the bar. Solemn in the face the wolf wore a white sleeveless shirt with a flowing tan duster settled over his shoulders barely dragging with the dirt that he kicked up on the floorboards as he pushed his way in thru the doors.\nDamaron tipped up his Rhodes el major cowboy hat that matched his duster and placed his paws on the front of his jeans where his big belt buckle lied. On the front it had a big letter “D” with lightning bolts around it. It certainly drew attention to the bulge in the front of his worn leather jeans. In the bar there were a few tables and chairs, a couple of booths, a small stage with a pole, Dame would assume for the Go-go girls, and the long bar at the back of the joint. Behind the bar there was a Basset Hound tending to it. He was serving another fellow whom appeared to be feline, his tail easily spotted whisking to and fro from under his own coat. Damaron thudded over to the bar and was greeted with a smile from the old hound dog.\n“What’ll you have, stranger?” His cooingly sweet voice sounded like somebody’s Grandfather.\n“Gimme some scotch on the rocks.” Dame said as he blew out the last drag of his cigar in the air then put the butt out of what was left of it in the ash tray.\n“Well that about does it for me.” The feline says as he downed the last of his drink and slapped some money on the bar.\n“Oh you’re not going to stay for the show?” the hound said.\n“Well Sam. I reckon if you’ve known me as long as ye have you’da known that my tastes lay toward the other side of the fence.” The feline said turning towards the wolf.\nTheir eyes meet and Damaron could see that the feline was a cheery looking snow leopard with silvery eyes. Dame smiled back at him and tipped his hat as Sam set a glass of scotch on the counter for him.\nDame’s left paw took the scotch and he lifted it to his lips for a taste while the Snow Leopard looked him over particularly at the wolf’s arms and then crotch whatever he could catch a glimpse of.\n“I’ll start you a tab mister,” Sam said as he went about cleaning up the glass left by the feline.\n“Like what you see?” sounding utterly cliché Dame asked of the ogling male while he sipped his beverage without looking at him. Dame could feel the weight of his M1911 just under the left arm of his duster, but he didn’t think he would need it, this guy was only looking.\n“M’name is, Roger, stranger. And I reckon I do like what I see but I can tell yer just not interested.” Roger caught a glimpse of Damaron’s belt buckle. “So yer the fellow everyone calls lightning. Always quick to strike huh? Well I’ll leave ya to yer business, friend.” With another catch of the eyes and a head nod between the two the snow leopard made his way out the door.\nDamaron always had a reputation for never staying anyplace for very long. He’d been a lone wolf and drifter ever since he lost his family. Even lost in his thoughts the click of a high heel broke that moment and the wolf looked over towards the other end of the bar where a sleek well groomed and gorgeous coyote girl came from the back room.\n\n\nartwork by glowfox\nstory by me inspired by Toby Keith's Bullets in the gun ",
"description_bbcode_parsed": "The brisk evening air whipped through the down windows of an old Ford pick-up truck. The sun was still up a ways in the sky settling in on evening dusk to nearly setting. The white wolf leaned a bit out the window using the door as an elbow rest and his right paw on the wheel; feeling the wind through his fur while he sucked back on a torpedo cigar, the embers glowing on the end like the ones in a died down camp fire. His blue eyes glinting as he stared down the dusty road traversing near the border of Southern Arizona.
His appetite was getting the better of him, exhaling from his nostrils the burning tobacco smoke. He’d been on the road now for several hours just like a wild and restless drifter or some kind of cowboy in a song. Lights up ahead signified a place that just might prove to be useful for dealing with that growl in the gut. Cowboy boot clad foot revved the engine and accelerated closer to the source. On the Border Bar; flickered the red neon sign with a smaller set of words spelling in bold letters GO-GO just below it. Taking a long drag on the cigar Damaron pulled up to the place parking just up front with only two other cars.
“Hmm… Not much business for a dive like this so late in the day,” Damaron thought to himself. He turned the keys halting the engines rough idle, opening up the drivers side door and stepping out into the now sun setting sky, that cast a soft pink and orange colors over the landscape. In a sand n’ gravel dessert the setting sun doesn’t look much prettier anywhere else. Damaron made his way up the front steps leading into the bar. Solemn in the face the wolf wore a white sleeveless shirt with a flowing tan duster settled over his shoulders barely dragging with the dirt that he kicked up on the floorboards as he pushed his way in thru the doors.
Damaron tipped up his Rhodes el major cowboy hat that matched his duster and placed his paws on the front of his jeans where his big belt buckle lied. On the front it had a big letter “D” with lightning bolts around it. It certainly drew attention to the bulge in the front of his worn leather jeans. In the bar there were a few tables and chairs, a couple of booths, a small stage with a pole, Dame would assume for the Go-go girls, and the long bar at the back of the joint. Behind the bar there was a Basset Hound tending to it. He was serving another fellow whom appeared to be feline, his tail easily spotted whisking to and fro from under his own coat. Damaron thudded over to the bar and was greeted with a smile from the old hound dog.
“What’ll you have, stranger?” His cooingly sweet voice sounded like somebody’s Grandfather.
“Gimme some scotch on the rocks.” Dame said as he blew out the last drag of his cigar in the air then put the butt out of what was left of it in the ash tray.
“Well that about does it for me.” The feline says as he downed the last of his drink and slapped some money on the bar.
“Oh you’re not going to stay for the show?” the hound said.
“Well Sam. I reckon if you’ve known me as long as ye have you’da known that my tastes lay toward the other side of the fence.” The feline said turning towards the wolf.
Their eyes meet and Damaron could see that the feline was a cheery looking snow leopard with silvery eyes. Dame smiled back at him and tipped his hat as Sam set a glass of scotch on the counter for him.
Dame’s left paw took the scotch and he lifted it to his lips for a taste while the Snow Leopard looked him over particularly at the wolf’s arms and then crotch whatever he could catch a glimpse of.
“I’ll start you a tab mister,” Sam said as he went about cleaning up the glass left by the feline.
“Like what you see?” sounding utterly cliché Dame asked of the ogling male while he sipped his beverage without looking at him. Dame could feel the weight of his M1911 just under the left arm of his duster, but he didn’t think he would need it, this guy was only looking.
“M’name is, Roger, stranger. And I reckon I do like what I see but I can tell yer just not interested.” Roger caught a glimpse of Damaron’s belt buckle. “So yer the fellow everyone calls lightning. Always quick to strike huh? Well I’ll leave ya to yer business, friend.” With another catch of the eyes and a head nod between the two the snow leopard made his way out the door.
Damaron always had a reputation for never staying anyplace for very long. He’d been a lone wolf and drifter ever since he lost his family. Even lost in his thoughts the click of a high heel broke that moment and the wolf looked over towards the other end of the bar where a sleek well groomed and gorgeous coyote girl came from the back room.
artwork by glowfox
story by me inspired by Toby Keith's Bullets in the gun ",
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