The Game

1 - A Usual Monday

I hate Mondays. I know, classic and stereotypical for a teenage fur such as myself, but it doesn't change the fact that Mondays are the worst. We all know it's true.

I have to get up early, even though eight in the morning isn't really that early, but I think it's early. Then I have to put on actual clothes and make myself look presentable, instead of quote 'Looking like a tall, misshapen ball of fluff with an attitude' as my younger sister says. I don't know how she came up with that. And then comes the worst part, which again I realize is stereotypical for me to dislike: I have to go to school.

Ugh. Mondays...

There was a knock on the door to my room, and I heard the familiar voice of my mother, Primrose, "David? Are you up yet!"

"Yes..." I loudly grumbled, laying in my bed still.

I thought I heard her snort, then she opened the door. I lifted my head briefly to look at her. She is a fox, with a much lighter shade of orange fur than most foxes. Currently, she was dressed in a light pink T-shirt and black sweatpants. She had her hands on her hips, ears twitching slightly in annoyance as those hazel eyes glared at me. I glared back for a moment... until my head fell back and I glared at the ceiling instead.

"That doesn't look like-"

"Just give me a minute," I interrupted.

She growled lightly, "You know not to interrupt me when-"

"You don't do anything when I interrupt you anyway."

I stopped myself from smiling fully at her frustration, feeling the corners of my mouth raise ever so slightly. She hates that I do that, and since I know she hates it, I do it. Simple, but effective. I could tell she was biting her tongue as she tried to think of something to get me out of bed. I would eventually get up, I just want to mess with her. But then my eight-year-old sister, who totally inherited all of our mother's looks, came running into the room and ruined my plans by being adorable.

"Davie!" My sister squealed as she sprinting into the room. "Get up!" She then jumped on top of me, causing both me and the mattress to bounce slightly.

"Woah! Daisy!" I said as she tried to pin me down, nipping my ear playfully and scratching at my bare chest. I slept without a shirt on before you ask. I gently pushed her off of me, also sitting up, "Jeez, I'm up, I'm up."

"Get yer lazy butt downstairs right now or imma kick you!" Daisy grinned wide, moving to stand beside my bed.

"Alright, alright," I smiled, ruffling her headfur as I swung my legs out to stand, "Let me get dressed and ready before you kick me."

"Nope!"

"Ow - hey!" I tried to grab her by the shoulder after she kicked my shin, but she was too darn fast and bolted to beside mom. I shook my head, standing up and rubbing my leg a little. I half-smiled at mom and my sister, "I guess I'd better listen to the little devil before she kicks me again."

"You better!" Daisy stuck her tongue out at me, then tugged at mom's arm, "Momma, I want to show you something!"

"Alright dear," Mom smiled down at Daisy, saying that in a much lighter tone than when she spoke to me. She then shot me an intimidating glare, and again spoke in that disapproving tone mothers have when they're mad at you, "I want you downstairs in five minutes David."

"And what if I take five minutes and one second?" I cheekily called.

That earned me another glare and her snarling "Don't."

I stood there for a moment, looking at the now empty doorframe before shrugging and heading to my closet. I figured I'd better get ready... and of course, wait an extra little bit after my five minutes were up. After all, I can't go down there without brushing my fur all nice now can I? I have to look my best when going out in public, I don't want to make a bad impression. Surely she understands. She's the one that told me I have to look nice for other people, I'm simply doing what she says. How can she get mad at that? Snorting lightly to myself I got dressed in a simple red shirt and black jeans.