flora Y fauna (chapters uno Y dos)

Trifer & Moxie

“Plants fed? Check. Fairy fed? Check. Dabs smoked? Check. Let’s go for a swim before Armelle cracks an eyelid with demands, eh, Mox?”

A mesmerizing cooing sound emits through the pursed lips of the bear. Everything about that sound says, “YES” — even to unasked questions. Moxie rears up on hind legs and backflips. Something truly impressive for anyone — much less a 30-foot bear. No drug gives a more exhilarating high than a long swim. Not even cannabis. Moxie needs no drug but Ocean. And the occasional scratch on the belly of course.

Trifer grins wide as yang stands with toes in the wet sand while the surf dusts ankles. Yang’s watching Moxie do that thang — just observing Moxie’s Ocean ritual is almost as fun as riding yin’s back — hence the gigantic weed-grin. Trifer just stands there absorbing. Grinning. Nothing better to do than enjoy this poetic moment. It never

gets old watching a 30-foot bear vault beyond the breaking waves and pop up 50 yards out into a pirouette on the surface. Eyes blissfully closed, smile is almost as wide as Trifer’s toothy grin. Yin sinks back down until disappears completely. Trifer’s eyes scan the horizon as counts 13, 14, 15, 16… and up comes a tuna followed closely by a gaping bear trap. Smack! And Moxie sinks teeth in, almost cutting the tuna in thirds, flips in mid-air and swan-dives back into the depths as the tuna tail breaks off from the impact. A frenzy of birds fights for the scraps. Trifer snorts, tucks thumbs into waistband, and resumes scanning the horizon for the finale — which is different every time…

…a rumbling and a surge of surf like a whirlpool. There’s that big bear cooing again, but this time engulfed in bubbles — almost like a gurgle but the most mellifluous of gurgles. Moxie’s head surfaces like an emerging turtle — blinks both sets of eyelids and submerges again. Trifer shivers with just a touch of understandable fear and excitement — still grinning like mad. Set waves are coming in and yang catches a glimpse of sliver streaking through the third wave. It barrels and Trifer can see yin’s nose poking out of the cavern in the mist. Yang’s ears burn with a touch of pleasurable envy as yin smiles, eyelids locking the bliss inside, and rolls with the wave onto yin’s back and stretches a paw through the face creating an arc of spray. Poetry.

Trifer hisses a “yesssss” that he can’t help. Yin’s fucking amazing and yang’s yin’s best friend. Trifer’s beaming at Moxie’s happiness as yin rolls over into superman pose. As soon as yin’s paws touch the sand, handsprings and lands right behind Trifer, cooing, and wraps wet paws around yang and drops them both rolling in the sand. Yang’s practically choking on deep, bass-like hysterical laughter when Moxie slurps the sand off face and gives the look that pleads, “Tell me you’re ready — because I am!!!!”

Lexi P & The Yangaz

“Fucking flirts.”

Tails wagging and tongues panting. ‘We’re definitely gonna get our way this time’, Andre messages to Dimebag. Dimebag woofs in agreement.

“Asshole flirts. I stand corrected.” Yet yin tosses the rabbit in the air anyway and they both catch it delicately as jaws meet in the middle in a happy wishbone of a break. “Good thing you’re awesome” and breaks into a smile that can’t be helped — utterly smitten with those two. Jerks. “Ya know, you could be less cheeky like the yins… but who am I kidding?” Dimebag snorts through the slobbers and has the nerve to wink. Lexi P delivers a loving kick in the hind parts and Dimebag backs a cocky ass right up to a free hand that can’t help but give a rub. Andre slurps down the last foot and takes a nip at Dimebag’s tail. ‘Brown-noser’, Dimebag messages with a glare. LP smirks and tosses Andre a mouse that’s inhaled with a cheeky grin aimed at the annoyed brother.

LP wonders if Manda’s around, but doesn’t think so. Poor panda’s been out a lot these days — and not much for conversation when home. LP crouches on favorite spot — a redwood stump with a cushiony-mossy seat — and sparks up a joint while watching those two dorks wrestle. “Grow some thumbs and make me dinner, ya dicks” and laughs at the image of Dimebag in an apron. Yang yips through Andre’s grasp as if reading LP’s mind — because they get LP and always have. LP’s never been able to prove it but knows they understand better than anyone but McGinty when yang’s fucking sober. That thought makes yin a little sad, and Andre decides wrestling is over and pins that brother. (There are more important things than kicking a brother’s ass.) Dimebag barks in defiance, but they pad over to their best yin. Andre leaps up onto the stump and curls around LP’s back, and yin leans into yang like a comfy old chair while Dimebag nudges yin’s leg until LP drapes it over yang’s back. LP cocks that jaw and blows two rings then the third through the first two. Yin smiles and ruffles Andre’s nose.

“I love you yangaz,” stubs out the joint in a flash, and grabs Dimebag around the neck, grabs muzzle, and pins yang. Andre howls approval and laughs like a coyote, then pounces on top of yin gently while yang covers yin’s face in long, wet, wolf smooches. Ew. Now they’re all wrestling and yin’s barely keeping it together with the stoner giggles, but Lexi P is a badass mofo. They’re both three times the size but yin’s much quicker. In a flash LP’s pinned them both and can barely hold them for how hard yin’s laughing at how much yin just plain old fucking loves them. The brothers squeak out the wolf version of “uncle” and LP lets them up, flips over to the fire and gives them each a crispy leg off the spit. LP sinks teeth into the breast meat and lets the juices run down that chin. Andre is the perfect napkin.

The last of the day’s sun turns the sky that beautiful dusky blue and the three of them curl up together to digest and watch the stars take over the sky. LP sighs and swells on the inside with love for them and they reciprocate with nuzzling and pounding hearts.

McGinty who?

(These are the first two chapters in a five-book series called YinYangFuego, a post-apocalyptic prescriptive narrative designed for neurolinguistic deprogramming of binary thinking to include virtual reality dialogue for trauma slayers.)



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Būdist Psychologist ~ Hermeneutics. Indian/ Chinese/ Judahist/ Rastafari-infused Philosophies. ☠️ Write Drunk. Edit Sober. ~E.H.