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\n\t\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t| " | \n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tThis connection caused Max to laugh aloud. Sydney looked down at the shep-coon with confused eyes, wondering what on earth struck him so dang funny. If he were laughing at the hook impaling hay bales, he had a rather morbid sense of humor, indeed. "You alright down there, chief?" Sydney asked, shucking down a third and fourth bale, just about enough for the livestock. Max cleared his throat and nodded up to her, winking. She cocked her head funny, eying down Maxwell with a confused glance. "Oh, uh… yeah! I'm fine. Just thought of something funny, that's all. You know what that's like?" Max asked, refusing to admit to this young cub-girl exactly what he was laughing about. Itty bitty titties, good for foxes, not for kitties. This caused Max to laugh even harder still, hunkering over to rest his hand-paws on his knees, catching a breath in hopes that he wouldn't fall over with his sides sore and tears streaming from his intact eyelid. She shrugged as her own eyes drifted up, casting her gaze at the ceiling, deep in thought. Sydney decided to throw Max a right proper curve-ball, simply guessing aloud. "I bet it has something to do with my little boobies, doesn't it?" Sydney asked with calm assurance. Maxwell started excessively. His ears perked straight up and his tail ruffled its fur outright. How in the hell could she have guessed so well? "Nah, just kidding. Heeheehee! Mama Peahen told me about how some boys like to stare at girls because they have overactive weenies. I think that’s silly though… don't you, Mr. B?" Sydney snorted with timid laughter while Max did his very best to hide his shep-coon erection from her prying eyes, those fox-slit, yellow, curiously affectionate and borderline-depraved eyes. He wondered if she was messing with his sorry ass or actively flirting with the older farm-hand on purpose. Either way, he hoped she'd watch herself, or else she may woo his affections radically. "Silly, yeah. And hey!" Max hollered. Sydney looked down at him, regarding his attentive single eye, admiring his slender handsomeness, despite his facial flaw. "Call me Maxwell. Not Mr. B. I feel old as dirt when kids call me that nonsense." Max smiled up to the vixen-coon, having made a pact of sorts. Sydney winked and clicked her tongue, giving him the A-OK hand gesture. ~ After the sun sunk below the far-distant horizon, scorching the summer sky with thriving bursts of red, purple and vermilion, bed-time crept upon the ranch.\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t | \n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
And here's pages 8 and 9! Finishing up the last bits of work in the barn, our intrepid heroes return to the ranch house for a night's rest...
This comic is a visual recreation of this story:
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