Chapter 2

Harlow left Granny's house and jogged directly to the clinic, arriving a few minutes later. The clinic had a small outdoor resting area in front of the entrance. The small park-like space was covered in grass with neatly trimmed hedges along the sides. Benches were set next to the hedges, providing a shady spot to sit and relax. A small porcelain fountain gurgled in the center of the area, adding a touch of serenity.

Harlow always enjoyed this space, but he rarely used it. He walked past as usual and opened the front door. The door was made of light wood and had a small brass bell above it that rang when the door opened. The room just inside was the waiting room. There were a few comfortable chairs and a nice couch to accommodate patients and their family members. There was also a receptionist desk, but it was mostly used for storage. Mr. Haramin kept sellable medicines underneath.

Harlow's destination was the exam room. It was located to the right of the waiting room through a door set slightly farther down the hall. He pushed open the swinging door and entered the room. He placed his heavy medicine bag on the table.

The clinic consisted of five rooms. The examination room where he was currently standing had an elevated bed near the center. It was the dominant feature of the room and was where patients would be seen. Alongside were several portable tables. Some held instruments for medical procedures, while others held potions and ointments. They were arranged so as to be quickly accessed for treatment.

There were also several chairs where patients could sit for milder ailments, such as treatments on hands and feet. These chairs were easily moved to fit the situation, and Mr. Haramin usually took one of the chairs for himself while working on his patients.

Along the back wall was a repository of different vials, ointments, tinctures, plants, and magical tools. Multiple racks held vials of potions. Plants hung from the corners and grew along shelves. Jars of ointment sat next to pouches filled with pills. To the untrained eye, it was a mess of medicines. To the people who knew, it was a well-organized treatment bay.

The third room was a recovery room with a larger and softer bed. The room was decorated with multiple hanging vines and potted plants, all of which were used in the formulation of different alchemical concoctions. When placed together in the recovery room, their aromas intermingled and caused an increase in restfulness and healing.

The large window in the room could be covered with light-blocking drapes when a patient needed rest. However, at the moment, the window was filled with vines that curled around and down the sill. Their broad leaves covered the window and diffused the light into shades of green.

There was also another smaller couch in this room, along with two bedside tables near the headboard and two more chairs against the far wall underneath the window. All in all, the room was set up to provide a comfortable place for someone to recover after a major injury.

The fourth room was the laboratory. This was where Mr. Haramin concocted his treatments, sterilized his tools, and performed experiments. Harlow felt most at home in this room, as it held within it a large library of books.

He was often encouraged to study while Mr. Haramin attended to other things, which Harlow didn't mind in the slightest. He would find an interesting tome and digest it eagerly while waiting for the physician to require his services.

The final room was a restroom. Unlike most restrooms in Greenby, this one had a shower. Canursids enjoyed the water, and virtually all of the houses here and in the surrounding area had large tubs built in. The shower here was simply more efficient and easier to use for injured people.

After depositing the bag on the table, Harlow exited the clinic through the rear and walked over to Mr. Haramin's house. A small covered breezeway connects the house to the clinic, providing a semi-private entrance. It’s only a few steps long, but enough to keep the house separate from the public clinic.

The physician allowed Harlow unrestricted access to his house. Harlow was often sent to fetch things from inside. He had even spent the night on the floor a number of times when the hour had gotten too late. He had no problem entering the house and making his way to the bathroom to prepare Mr. Haramin’s bath.

The house was small, consisting of only one bedroom, a common room with an adjoining cooking area, and a bathroom. The bathroom was the largest room, taking up almost half the house. Upon entering, the living room and kitchen area stretched from wall to wall. The kitchen was on the left, and a comfortable seating area with two couches and an ottoman was on the right.

The house was small and simply furnished. A small hallway extended into the bathroom directly across from the front door. The bedroom was attached to the bathroom and sat to the right behind the living area. There were a few small closets and shelves that lined the walls, but very little personal storage space.

The walls were stark, with very few decorations or pictures hanging around the house. Mr. Haramin had said that he was a minimalist, but Harlow wondered if it was because he spent much more time in the clinic, at work, rather than having any social life.

This spoke to Mr. Haramin's life and pursuits. He had very little time for frivolity and wastefulness. He had the things he needed and little else. He focused his dwelling on what brought him joy. He didn't make room for decorations and things that were on display more for the sake of others than himself.

Because of this, the bathroom was the heart of his house. Mr. Haramin enjoyed his time here. He spent a lot of time in the tub, and so filled the room with plants similar to the recovery room. The plants helped to create a calm and relaxing atmosphere, which was perfect for Mr. Haramin to unwind after a long day.

The plants in the recovery room generally needed less water, which is why they were perfect for the recovery room. The plants in the bathroom were the opposite. They loved the humidity. They ranged from vines that stretched themselves along the walls to broad-leaved small trees.

It could sometimes be an obstacle course to navigate through the room. Harlow called it “the jungle." Leaves and vines were easily lost underneath a person's paws, and the position of the pots seemed to constantly change.

As soon as a person entered the room, the aroma and auras given off by the plants placed them in a state of relaxation and security. It felt as if the world outside melted away. Time spent in this room was often as beneficial as staying in the recovery room. Mr. Haramin didn't let a lot of people know that, though, or he would have a lot more visitors.

Harlow wound his way through the plants and reached the tub. It was oval-shaped, larger on the sides than the ends. The spigots were placed on the top, facing outward, so the tub could be filled without having to enter it. The tub itself was made of polished and treated Martle wood.

Martle wood is generally a light brown color, but this tree had been specially treated. It grew with striations of darker browns, which caused a wavy pattern to emerge in the grain. It was striking next to the dark maroon of the Bludwood framework which held the tub aloft.

Harlow turned the nozzles and activated the heating rune. He turned it clockwise almost a full turn so the water would be extra hot. He wasn't sure how long before Mr. Haramin would tarrive, but he knew his mentor liked a nice hot bath.

The plants in the room enjoyed the humidity accompanying the hot water. Harlow watched as the tub slowly filled. The steam rolling off the surface of the water, along with the grain in the wood, had an almost hypnotic effect. With the heady aroma of the plants, Harlow's anxiety began to melt away.

Harlow knew he needed to clean himself as well. He had planned to use the shower in the clinic, but the enticing aroma of the steam wafting up from the tub stopped him in his tracks.

He glanced back at the water filling the tub, the stripes of the wood bending and undulating through the billowing steam. They created waves of hypnotic illusions that danced through his eyes. The water was just too inviting.

"Mr. Haramin won't mind if I jump in there first for a few minutes," Harlow thought to himself. He hesitated for only a moment before he began to disrobe and then he climbed into the tub.

The hot water washed over his tensed muscles, and the anxiety from earlier began to wash away. Mr. Haramin had encouraged him to bathe frequently, and Harlow knew that he could always fill the tub again if his mentor was concerned about dirty water.

He laid back and let the hot water soak into his skin. His racing brain was finally able to deal with all he had seen and felt today. The hot, soothing water acted as a balm on his raw nerves. He closed his eyes and images of Granny flitted through his mind.

She always seemed to have a bit of Segoon candy with her, which she gleefully dispensed to anyone who was interested. The sweet, citrus flavor seemed to fill his mouth as he lay there and allowed himself to melt away.

Harlow dozed off for a bit and lost track of time. The splendor of the hot water and aromatic plants was just too soothing. He felt his worries and anxieties melt away, and he was finally able to relax and enjoy the moment.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

Harlow heard the sonorous voice through his dream. He was sitting at a large table full of the most splendid food he had ever tasted. Heroes from his books sat around him, accompanying him as he stuffed his face. They regaled their tales of adventures and journeys while Harlow feasted and listened intently to their amazing boasts.

In his mind, he told the person who had asked to join him, "There's way too much food for just me. Please, sit down and eat all you want."

It took a few moments for Harlow's brain to register who the owner of the voice actually was. It was Mr. Haramin. He was happy that his mentor could join him in such an elegant feast.

Slowly Harlow's brain began to remember that he was not actually at a dinner party, but was actually in a bathtub. He was in Mr. Haramin’s bathtub.

He began to realize the feast was just a dream. The table before him vanished as his eyes opened and started to focus. Reality was a blur for a few seconds, but he sat bolt upright once the light from the bathroom entered his vision. Water splashed over the sides from the rapid motion.

Being abruptly awakened, concerned for the mess he had just made, and his mind not yet fully comprehending the situation, Harlow automatically responded. "Yes, of course!"

Harlow blinked his eyes several times, clearing his head. He looked over the side of the tub at the puddle of water forming on the floor from his abrupt movement. "I. I'm sorry, Mr. Haramin. I'll clean that up."

A booming chuckle filled the room. "No need, Harlow. I splash around in here all the time. It'll get absorbed by the plants. They love the stuff." The gray-furred man said as he removed his robe.

Harlow finally remembered Mr Haramin asking if he could join, and then his response. He looked at the old man with a bit of apprehension now. Harlow couldn’t help but stare as his mentor stepped out of his pants, which he left on the wet floor, and climbed into the tub with him.

“Oh, this needs to be hotter. I guess you’ve been in here a while.” The older man said.

“Y…yes sir. I. I guess I must have fallen asleep.” Harlow heard himself say then watched as the now naked man spun the nozzles to the right and the hot water began to flow out once again.

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Mr. Haramin was a short, stocky man with a powerful build. His stomach protruded slightly, but his wide shoulders and chest made up for it. He had never seen his mentor's legs before, but they were large and muscular, giving him a blocky but round appearance.

“You have white patches." Harlow said without thinking. His eyes were glued to the top of Mr Haramin’s thighs where a patch of white fur grew and extended a few inches down each leg.

Harlow realized where he was looking at and what hung in between the white patches and quickly looked away, his cheeks immediately flushing with embarrassment.

Mr. Haramin chuckled. "Yeah, only white fur on me. Not many people get to see them though."

Harlow, still red with embarrassment, glanced up to meet Mr. Haramin's eyes. The large impish smile on his face emphasized the lighter gray fur around his muzzle. A single fang stuck up from the side of his mouth.

"And you," Mr. Haramin said. "A spot on your stomach to match the mask. Very nice."

Mr. Haramin was referring to the patch of white fur that encompassed Harlow’s stomach as well as the mask of white around his eyes. The rest of his body was covered in a light cream colored fur which most people said was very handsome. He felt as though he was nothing really out of the ordinary, but he was the only person he knew with his coloring.

“Uh… thanks.” Harlow managed to mumble.

Harlow watched Mr. Haramin as he reached below the water and removed the drain stopper, letting the lukewarm water drain out to make room for the new hot water pouring from the spigot. The older man's bluish-gray fur turned a dark gray where the water covered it.

Mr. Haramin re-stoppered the tub and laid back. His arms swished back and forth to circulate the hot water. Harlow quickly felt the temperature begin to climb. The temperature changes came in waves with the motion of Mr. Haramin's large hands.

“If you sit forward, the hot water will be able to get behind your back easier,” the physician said with his eyes closed.

“Oh, okay,” Harlow said in a weak and squeaky voice. He leaned forward a little, and the wave of warm water rushed in behind him. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Mr. Haramin said with a casual smile. “Just a trick I’ve learned through the years.”

There was plenty of room in the large tub for both of them. Harlow knew that his anxiety stemmed from his upbringing. He had never had anyone show him how to properly groom himself. He had no brothers to play with, and his father was much more of a burden than a teacher. The man rarely bathed as it was.

His mentor's easy smile, which he rarely showed, didn't escape Harlow's attention. "Do... do you want me to get out, sir? I can finish washing at the clinic," Harlow asked sheepishly.

"No, no, don't be silly," Mr. Haramin chuckled. "After the stress we dealt with this morning, we can both use a good soak. If you haven't soaped up yet, then go ahead. I'll lather up later."

This was a strange time in Harlow’s life. He had never seen anyone naked before, let alone been naked around another person. He had fantasies about being naked with Mika Poldare before, but even then he didn’t really know what he would do.

Thoughts swirled around in Harlow’s head confusing and embarrassing. Hesitantly he took the soap and began lathering his body. He had a routine he had come up with when soaping up.

He started with his paws and worked his way up his legs. He held one at a time out of the water to apply the soap. He skipped the dangly bits in the middle of his body, instead going to his head and moving down over his chest and arms.

Harlow normally stood up and washed his private parts last, but with another person in the tub, he wasn't sure if that would be appropriate. He held the bar of soap just above the water and looked at his mentor. The older man looked peaceful, like he was enjoying a quick nap as Harlow had just done minutes before.

Harlow contemplated his next move. He definitely wanted to get clean, but he didn't like the tub at his house and didn't particularly want to take another bath either. His mentor was breathing calmly and showed no sign of moving, so he decided to just finish now before Mr. Haramin knew what was happening.

He carefully stood up out of the water. He rubbed down the front of his body, then scrubbed his backside quickly. He got himself nice and soapy. No one could say that he wasn't thorough at cleaning himself.

"You want me to get your back?" Mr. Haramin's deep voice softly asked as one of his eyes peaked open.

Harlow fell back into the tub. His legs simply collapsed underneath him, and he grabbed the sides of the tub for support, barely keeping himself from sliding from his side. The soap flew from his hand, hit the ceiling, and fell back into the water with a splash.

Mr. Haramin's eyebrow raised, and his lips curled into a strange smile. Harlow's heart was beating through his chest, and he panted as if he had just run to his house and back.

“The offer is still available, although you’re going to have to fetch that soap for me now,” Mr. Haramin said through his large grin. His voice was even and calm, as if nothing had happened. His face, however, belied his voice and showed Harlow just how amused he was.

The water that was left in the tub was churning and filled with bubbles from the soap. The white foam clung to the fur on both of their bodies.

Harlow wasn’t sure how to respond. His teenage brain was running rampant with different scenarios and worries. He was frozen in place. His mouth refused to work. And to make things even worse, the blood which normally resided elsewhere in his body had begun to relocate itself to a certain appendage just below his waistline.

Mr. Haramin reached up and turned the spigot on again. "I know I said the plants could soak up the splashing water, but they're not sponges," he said as he settled back into his spot on the opposite side of the tub.

Harlow was slowly getting his heartbeat and breathing back under control. He was happy the foamy water covered his lower half, because it continued to betray him. He feared this must be extremely awkward for Mr. Haramin. Although it looked as though he was quite amused.

For him it was extraordinarily embarrassing and his brain screamed at him to just jump out and run. There was just the one stubborn problem refusing to go away. If he stood up now, Mr Haramin would definitely know there was something wrong with him since he still remained extremely rigid just below the bubbles.

“I think I’m ok. Thanks?” Harlow heard himself finally answer although it definitely sounded more like another question by the end.

The large man's smile faded. The awkwardness and hilarity of the situation had been entertaining, but there was something he needed to get done. He had found the boy snoozing in his tub and debated with himself for several minutes before setting his mind to bringing up The Bonding.

With a sigh, Mr. Haramin sat up from his reclined position and brought his hands in front of him. He rested them on his belly and looked at Harlow solemnly. "Harlow, I need to talk to you about something, and believe it or not, this may be the perfect time and place for this talk."

Harlow had no clue what was happening. The embarrassment from before doubled as he covered his crotch with his hands and sat low in the water.

"What, is it you want to talk about Mr. Haramin?" Harlow awkwardly asked. He kept his eyes pointed down at the water and the disappearing bubbles.

Harlow had never felt anything but a teacher and student vibe from Mr. Haramin before, but something told him their relationship was about to change, and he didn’t feel like this could be a good time for anything.

"Canursids have a few," Mr. Haramin paused to find the right word, "ceremonies that are important to us. They happen at different stages of our lives. The first one is when we are born, and is called The Welcoming. It's basically a small spell that shows the parents a quick look at the insides of the baby, making sure that he or she is healthy."

Harlow nodded. He had seen Mr. Haramin perform The Welcoming on a few babies before. So far, this conversation was nothing out of the ordinary.

"The second such ceremony is performed when a young man or woman comes of age. This ceremony, or maybe ritual is a better term, is more essential. It's called The Bonding and is normally performed by the parent of the same gender as the young person. So, father to son and mother to daughter."

Harlow hadn't heard of this one. He started to get a little worried. His father was not someone he would trust to do any sort of ritual—let alone one on him.

"The parent-to-child matching is important in this ritual, because if it is done with someone else, it can have some very dire consequences," Mr. Haramin explained further. "If it is done with another young person, those two will quickly become bonded. The bond will be so extreme that they will be unable to be apart. It can sometimes work out when this happens, but it is restrictive and looked down upon."

Harlow could somewhat understand. He envisioned himself and Mika as bonded. He thought he wouldn't mind being around her all the time. His brain then realized that she didn't have a mother, so maybe bonding with her was what Mr. Haramin was going to teach him.

Mr. Haramin could see something pass in Harlow's thoughts. The edges of his mouth turned up slightly and a gleam entered his eyes. He continued, but smirked a little to himself since he had a good idea of where the boy's mind was at.

"It's not as nice as you think," Mr. Haramin said. "If something happens or if The Bonding goes wrong, it can leave the newly bonded person with an unachievable addiction." He paused for a moment as the information slowly digested into Harlow's blood-starved brain. "You could end up worse than your father. His mate, your mother, passed away. The pain he feels is extreme, but nothing compared to the insatiable desire of someone who loses an incorrect bonded."

Harlow audibly gulped. He wanted absolutely nothing to do with his father, especially nothing to do with his destructive addiction. "So, do I have to have my father...?" He trailed off.

Mr. Haramin smiled. "That is why I am talking to you now. I know your father would not be able to perform the ritual correctly, and I don't think it's wise for you to bond with another young person, even if it is Mika," he winked, showing Harlow that he knew exactly what he was thinking about. "So, if you are willing, and see me as nothing more than a father figure, then I would volunteer to perform the Bonding for you."

“Yes, please!” Harlow answered, interrupting Mr. Haramin.

The old man smiled at the boy's enthusiasm. "Before you answer, there is always the potential for The Bonding to go differently than expected. The addiction, which is usually called 'chasing the dragon,' is real and is deadly.

"Also, our relationship would probably be influenced by the ritual and would change. Most likely, you would see me more as a father figure, and I would consider you my adopted son. However, other, more unusual circumstances have happened." He emphasized the word unusual.

“Performing The Bonding outside of the family is also strictly prohibited by the Ailuropoda church. You would not be able to tell anyone who performed your Bonding, and it would be best if you avoided your father. He may be addled, but eventually he will notice that you have reached manhood.”

Harlow had gotten excited at the prospect of having Mr. Haramin as a father, even if it were not strictly by blood. He listened to the warnings, though, and paused to really think it through. He realized that there was much more to this than just a simple spell like The Welcoming. If it were something like that, there would be no need for warnings.

"Mr. Haramin, what happens to me if I am not Bonded at all?" he asked.

“That’s a good question, Harlow. But first things first: two naked people in a tub need to be on a first-name basis. Please, call me Lennard.” The old man smiled, then continued to answer the question.

“To answer your question, there have only been a few cases that I’ve heard of where someone has gone without The Bonding. Those poor few became hermits—lonely people who never get to experience love or pleasure. The Bonding is, in essence, the way we Canursids open ourselves up to feel and experience those wonderful things.”

Lennard’s smile returned for a moment, and he asked Harlow, "Have you ever played with your tail?"

Harlow looked away sheepishly. "Not really. I was taught that I was supposed to keep it safe and not touch it."

"Then you don't know what it's like to be touched there?" Lennard asked.

Harlow shook his head.

Lennard was actually surprised. Most young men frequently played with their own tails before having The Bonding performed, himself included. "Well, this is going to be even more extraordinary for you," he said, "if you choose to go through with it, that is."

The older man could see his young apprentice working through the options. He watched and waited patiently as Harlow quietly debated.

Do you have any other questions?”

Harlow strained, thinking over the conversation they had just had. Lennard once again leaned over and turned on the hot water.

"What do you do, I mean the ritual part, what is it?" he finally asked. "And what are the other things that could change between us?"

A large smile split Lennard's face. "If I tell you, then it loses half the fun."

"Really? You're not even going to tell me?" Harlow asked with a slight whine in his voice.

Lennard paused and looked to the side before continuing. "Really. If I tell you before you agree, then you might just try to do it on your own. That would not go well. I am offering this because I don't want that to happen."

"As far as the other possibilities, they're really not worth delving into. The chances are much too slim for anything unusual to take place." He waved his hand around as if shooing away a fly. "You have a crush on Mika, and I... well, never mind that."

"The main thing is that I think you have the potential to be a great physician, and I don't want you to squander the opportunity. I will tell you that it doesn't hurt; in fact, it feels really great. Remember, this is the beginning of your ability to feel pleasure."

Harlow wasn't sure he liked the reasoning, but he couldn't fault the big man. He was taking a big risk offering to do this for him as it was.

"Why is it called The Bonding?" Harlow asked next.

Lennard smiled and began explaining. "Way back in ancient times, before the Canursids were really organized, back when our ancestors were feral, The Bonding was used for arranged mating.

"The lands were much more feudal after the cataclysm. Territories were created and run by families or warbands. To secure allies, sons or daughters were sent to neighboring territories. The leader of the territory would either perform the ritual on the young Canursid themselves, or would hand down the mating to an offspring of their own descent.

"In this fashion, they would bind the two families or territories together. It was also a binding between the young Canursid and the person who performed the ceremony. Although to call it a ceremony back then is a stretch. It was more just a ripping open of..." Lennard immediately stopped and looked at Harlow.

"Sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to make that sound so graphic."

“Ripping open?” Harlow asked with wide eyes.

“I think I said a little too much,” Lennard said, looking down at his feet.

There was a silent minute. Neither of the men knew how to free themselves from the awkwardness. Finally, Lennard looked at Harlow and finished his explanation. He couldn’t take back what he said, but he could at least reassure the boy.

“There’s no ripping involved in any way, I promise. That was back in the feral days. We have come a long way since then, but that is where the name comes from.”

Harlow seemed a little less enthusiastic now. Lennard hoped he hadn’t just ruined his opportunity. He truly was only trying to help the boy.

It was tradition to keep knowledge of The Bonding ritual from the young. Time and time again, it had been proven that once a young person learned of it, they would instinctively try it on their own. It was probably one of the Canursid's most guarded secrets.

Lennard feared that if Harlow didn't accept now, he would be lost. He would likely try to figure out how to do it on his own or with Mika's help. It could work for the two of them, but the chance of The Bonding going wrong were high, Lennard felt that the ritual would be much safer being performed by him.

Harlow was about to agree, but he had asked the correct question. When he heard about how his ancestors would rip open something, it made him rethink his answer.

"What could he have meant by ripping open something?" Harlow pondered. He couldn't believe that Mr. Haramin would do anything to harm him, though. His entire life was dedicated to healing people.

"One last question. Where and when would you do it?"

Lennard was turned away, closing off the hot water. When he turned back around, he said, "Here and now."

That took Harlow by surprise. He assumed there would be some kind of circle and chant or something. Although, if this was anything like The Welcoming, it was a simple incantation without any preparation.

Lennard lay back once again, closed his eyes, and bubbles floated up from underneath him. He smiled.

"Oh yeah, that makes me want to let you do some ritual to me," Harlow said sarcastically as he backed away waving his hand and covering his nose.

Lennard chuckled. "Doesn't have to smell great to feel great."

Another minute passed, and Harlow reviewed all that Lennard had told him. Harlow had an unusual ability to recall things in exquisite detail. He had never told anyone about this ability, but it came in extremely useful. All he needed was a moment or two of peace where he didn't have to think about what was happening around him, and he could relive any moment he chose.

In this way, Harlow analyzed everything he had heard and weighed his options. In the end, he decided that he trusted his mentor and his decisions. If this would make Lennard more like a father to him, then he was willing to take the risk.

Harlow sighed. "Okay. Let's do it. What's the worst that could happen?"

Lennard looked at the boy with hard eyes and slowly shook his head. "You know you just jinxed it, right?"