Kourtnay’s parents attributed her ‘furry kink’ to her favorite television and video game series, Pocketmon. With the strict close-mindedness exclusive to zealously religious people, her family ostracized Kourtnay. Both bisexual and a furry, she never had a chance of fitting in with the rest of her relationships-are-to-be-between-a-man-and-a-woman-in-holy-matrimony family.

Pocketmon was not the reason for her orientation. At least Kourtnay was fairly certain it wasn’t. Not entirely. She attributed her own furry obsession to her all consuming love of wolves. Despite children’s movies doing their best to vilify the wolf, Kourtnay fell in love with the strong and noble creatures at a young age. Like many children, she spent hours every day imitating her favorite animal. In her case that meant running around on all fours, growling at her parents and siblings, communicating exclusively in incomprehensible yips and barks.

As time went on and she grew out of her crude imitations, Kourtnay read more and more about wolves, her love and admiration swelling with each book and documentary she consumed. In her teens Kourtnay took an interest in costume design. The interest originated when some of her friends, who were into cosplaying at the cons, lamented the price of well done costumes. After making a handful of too-sexy outfits for her friends Kourtnay put her new hobby to good use in making her first fursuit: an elegant white wolf.

It took years of hiding it from everyone around her to finally gather the courage required to squash the shame and live her life. When she finally did, Kourtnay attended her very first furry convention to meet others with similar interests. That’s where she met the prophet.

“I love your suit,” he told her, looking her furry form up and down appreciatively.

The guy looked like a Mormon and was one of the few people in attendance not in costume. Most people considered showing up to these conventions in their own skin to be incredibly rude. Still, receiving a compliment on her fursuit’s debut was flattering.

“Grrr,” she replied seductively, raising one paw to swipe slowly at the space between them.

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“Can I make a guess?” he asked, but continued on without awaiting permission. “I’m going to guess that you love wolves even more than I do.”

“They’re the most wonderful creature on the planet,” Kourtnay agreed.

“I don’t know if it’s your thing, but I’m leading an… aggressive protest against poachers this weekend in Eastern Washington. Poachers that target the few wolves that remain in the wild, specifically. The NRA is suing the state over gun laws and their supporters are going to be making some noise. Our counter protest is well funded and we don’t plan on leaving without making a serious impact. Would you…” he paused, looking over her fursuit again. “You wouldn’t want to come along, would you?”

Kourtnay was stunned silent for long seconds, just staring at the handsome man through her wolf head. She did want to go along. A lot. She knew there were scumbags out there that hunted wolves and, over the years, she’d had dozens of fantasies about hunting the hunters. She wasn’t a particularly violent person, but anyone that killed wolves deserved a fate worse than death. And it was only fair, in her opinion. Hunters becoming the prey, that is. And there was something about the way Diggle said it that immediately struck her interest.

“When you say ‘aggressive protest’,” she said leadingly, her head cocking to one side like a questioning canine.

The man laughed, his blue eyes sparkling. Dimples formed on his cheeks and, for the first time in recent memory, Kourtnay found herself mildly attracted to a simple base human. Not in a sexual way. Not even a romantic curiosity. She just found herself curious about this man, that’s all.

“There will be two protests,” he explained. “One, the standard “signs and shouts” protest. The second ‘protest’,” he air quoted the word, “will be with a smaller group. At night. At the homes of poachers.”

Kourtnay’s heart rate increased at even the idea of joining this man on his noble quest. “You’re not going to…” She leaned closer to him and whispered, “Kill them? Are you?'' She tried and failed to keep the excitement from her tone.

He laughed again. “No,” he said sadly. “Nothing quite so violent. We’re just going to make sure they can never hurt another animal.”

“When you say ‘we’,” Kourtnay led, again cocking her head to the side.

“Wow,” he replied, eyes widening and lips pressing together. “I haven’t even introduced myself. How rude is that? Please accept my sincere apology. I’m Nicholas Diggle,” he said, extending a hand for her to shake.

“Kourtnay Bannon,” she replied, but didn’t take his hand. “I’m a wolf. Not a dog... I don’t ‘shake’.”

Diggle looked her over as if appraising her once again with one hand coming up to stroke his chin. “Kourtnay, so… K-pop for short. Right?”

Kourtnay growled menacingly and Diggle smiled broadly.

“What do you say, K-pop? You want to come and protect the wolves?”