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Description
Jennivien hesitated, the bundle of grapes hanging from her fingers, the fruits cool texture resting against her chest. Nervousness crept up her spine causing her tail to wrap itself around her.
It was true, the grapes were sweet, wonderful to taste as she savored each morsel. She had just raised one of the succulent fruits to her lips when the distinctive clack of a firing pin being drawn back shattered the moment.

‘If a single one of those grapes touches your lips, your fur is going to decorate the walls.’

Jen gasped, the fruit slipping down her front in shock. Eyes, wide she tired to speak, but the words could not make it past her suddenly dry throat.

‘…I…I…I’m…’

The sight of the twin barrles pointing into her face caused her mind to blank.

‘Cut!’ A voice rang out form off set. ‘Cut! Cut! Cut!’

From the darkened theater the director pushed to the fore front waving a bundle of papers in one paw.

‘We’ve been over this a hundred times by now!’ He growled in frustration. ‘Jennivien – do you even remember your lines?’

Ashamed her gaze dropped.

‘Yes.’

‘Then what are they?’

Jenn opened her mouth to speak, but her gaze lingered on the now lax barrels of the double shotgun held in the farmer that was supposed to her caught her in the act of stealing his crop. Somehow the sight of the gun, even though she knew it was only a prop made her freeze in horror. She couldn’t help it, she wanted to say, but she found she could not even meet the gaze of the director.

‘I’m sorry.’ She managed. ‘I’ll try harder.’

She was still struggling with her part to play. Theater had never been her strong point, and now she was in the heat of it. Staring in a tragedy as one of the leading characters was not what she had in mind when her employer had instructed her to undergo Field Training.

The play was a something of a tragedy gone wrong, the story of a fox caught in the vineyard by a farmer. Through the farmers emotional rage at finding the fox, she was to play the part of a hapless victim trying to plea for her life at his hands. That she was expected to act in front of a whole auditorium of mammals only made her anxiety worse. Not able to flee, as her employer had given her precise orders regarding the play, she bit her lip puckering up her courage.

‘Okay. I am ready.’

Description
Jennivien hesitated, the bundle of grapes hanging from her fingers, the fruits cool texture resting against her chest. Nervousness crept up her spine causing her tail to wrap itself around her.
It was true, the grapes were sweet, wonderful to taste as she savored each morsel. She had just raised one of the succulent fruits to her lips when the distinctive clack of a firing pin being drawn back shattered the moment.

‘If a single one of those grapes touches your lips, your fur is going to decorate the walls.’

Jen gasped, the fruit slipping down her front in shock. Eyes, wide she tired to speak, but the words could not make it past her suddenly dry throat.

‘…I…I…I’m…’

The sight of the twin barrles pointing into her face caused her mind to blank.

‘Cut!’ A voice rang out form off set. ‘Cut! Cut! Cut!’

From the darkened theater the director pushed to the fore front waving a bundle of papers in one paw.

‘We’ve been over this a hundred times by now!’ He growled in frustration. ‘Jennivien – do you even remember your lines?’

Ashamed her gaze dropped.

‘Yes.’

‘Then what are they?’

Jenn opened her mouth to speak, but her gaze lingered on the now lax barrels of the double shotgun held in the farmer that was supposed to her caught her in the act of stealing his crop. Somehow the sight of the gun, even though she knew it was only a prop made her freeze in horror. She couldn’t help it, she wanted to say, but she found she could not even meet the gaze of the director.

‘I’m sorry.’ She managed. ‘I’ll try harder.’

She was still struggling with her part to play. Theater had never been her strong point, and now she was in the heat of it. Staring in a tragedy as one of the leading characters was not what she had in mind when her employer had instructed her to undergo Field Training.

The play was a something of a tragedy gone wrong, the story of a fox caught in the vineyard by a farmer. Through the farmers emotional rage at finding the fox, she was to play the part of a hapless victim trying to plea for her life at his hands. That she was expected to act in front of a whole auditorium of mammals only made her anxiety worse. Not able to flee, as her employer had given her precise orders regarding the play, she bit her lip puckering up her courage.

‘Okay. I am ready.’