Well, life went on like it always does... Russian subs are cool. Pics to come.

I present to you, chapter 1 of Midra Wysterne's story. Hoorah for furre-fic... Please comment so I know you're around.

*1*
Midnight at Rusty’s International Club. A lithe young form sneaked out the back door into the alley and paused for a moment, listening carefully. The ruckus inside continued as usual, and she started walking silently away.
A voice rang out from inside the club: “Midra!”
She started to run, her gray cloak streaming behind her. Midra ducked around the corner and pressed her back against the wall, covering her face with her hood.
A crash of breaking dishes reached her ears, and a blonde weasel staggered out the back door of Rusty’s. He tried unsuccessfully to stand there for a moment before he called out again, “Midra! Come back!” He leaned against the brick wall unsteadily, waiting for a response.
“Go home, Mr. Robinson,” she replied from around the corner.
He took one step in the direction of her voice before having to lean against the wall once more. “Fine!” he slurred, and spat on the ground. “I’ll go home…to my wife…” He followed the wall to the door and stepped back inside Rusty’s.
Midra walked briskly to the front of the establishment and hailed a cab.
“Where to, miss?” asked the mouse inside.
“It’s not for me,” she replied as Mr. Robinson exited the club. “This guy needs a ride home.”
“No problem, ma’am.”
Midra helped Mr. Robinson into the taxi and shut the door after him. He looked up at her and said slowly, “You’re a nice girl. What’s your name?” She shook her head sadly and the cab drove off.
Wrapping the warm gray cloak more tightly around herself, Midra turned and began the long walk back to the dormitory.