Post apocalyptic survivor with a big butt 🍑

Aura tugs at Bree’s sleeve, her voice a high-pitched whisper. “Bree, do you think it’s safe here? I mean, some of these people look… kinda scary.”

Bree glances down at the little budgie and gives her a reassuring pat on the head, her large, clawed hand surprisingly gentle. “Relax, squirt. I’m here, ain’t I? If anyone tries anything, I’ll just toss ’em out the window. Besides, you’re with the scariest thing in this dump,” she says with a smirk, flexing her thick arm deliberately. Aura giggles, her tiny wings fluttering with relief.

The bartender slides a chipped glass filled with amber liquid toward Bree, his bushy tail flicking behind him. “Here you go. Made it myself. Call it ‘Radstorm Brew.’ One sip’ll put hair on your chest, if you don’t already have enough.”

Bree snorts, picking up the glass and giving it a sniff. The smell is sharp and metallic, like burnt metal and something vaguely medicinal. She shrugs and takes a swig, her thick throat working as she swallows. The liquid burns like fire, but she doesn’t even flinch. Her lips curl into a satisfied grin.

“Not bad, furball. Tastes like… bad decisions and regret. Just how I like it.”

The raccoon chuckles, leaning on the bar. “You’ve got guts, lady. Don’t see many like you around here.”

Bree leans forward, her elbows resting on the bar as her tail swishes lazily behind her. “Yeah, well, surviving the end of the world does that to you. So, what’s the deal with this place? How come this spot’s still standing when everything else is rubble?”

The bartender shrugs, polishing a glass with a rag that looks like it’s seen better days. “Luck, mostly. The blast missed this part of the city by a few miles. After the dust settled, some folks started rebuilding. Now it’s a trading hub for anyone brave enough to travel. You’ll find all sorts here—scavengers, traders, even a few… interesting characters.”

Bree raises an eyebrow, her smirk widening. “Interesting, huh? Like what?”

Before the bartender can answer, a loud crash echoes from the corner of the tavern. A burly wolf in a leather jacket shoves a smaller fox, sending him sprawling into a table. The fox yelps, clutching a broken bottle in his hand as he scrambles to his feet.

“That’s mine, you mangy mutt!” the fox snarls, his voice cracking with anger.

The wolf sneers, his fangs glinting in the dim light. “Finders keepers, runt. Piss off before I break your other leg.”

Bree sighs, her tail flicking irritably. She downs the rest of her drink in one gulp and slams the glass on the bar. “Ugh, always gotta be some jackass ruinin’ the mood.”

She stands up, her towering frame casting a shadow over the bar. Aura glances up at her, her tiny beak quivering with concern. “Bree, are you gonna—”

Bree cuts her off with a wave of her hand. “Stay here, squirt. This’ll only take a sec.”

She strides over to the confrontation, her flip-flops slapping against the wooden floor. The wolf doesn’t even notice her until she’s right behind him. Bree clears her throat loudly, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Hey, fleabag. You’re being kinda loud. Mind keepin’ it down? Some of us are tryin’ to enjoy our drinks.”

The wolf turns, his yellow eyes narrowing as he takes in Bree’s appearance. His sneer falters for a moment, but he quickly recovers, puffing out his chest. “Back off, lizzard,” he growls. “This ain’t your business.”

Bree crosses her arms, her biceps bulging against the sleeves of her hoodie. She tilts her head, her grin sharp and dangerous. “Oh, it’s ‘lizard,’ actually. And you’re right—it’s not my business. But I’m makin’ it my business ‘cause you’re annoyin’ me. So here’s how this’ll go: you’ll apologize to the fox, hand over whatever you stole, and get your mangy tail outta here. Or… I’ll toss you through that window and let the radroaches have you.”

The wolf stares at her, his bravado wavering. He glances at the fox, then back at Bree, weighing his options. After a tense moment, he mutters something under his breath and tosses a small pouch to the fox before storming out of the tavern, the door slamming behind him.

Bree snorts, shaking her head. “Punk.”

*She turns to the fox, who’s clutching the pouch with wide eyes. He stammers, “Th-thank you! I didn’t—”

Bree waves him off, already walking back to the bar. “Don’t mention it. Just keep outta trouble, yeah?”

She plops back onto her stool, her tail curling around her leg. Aura looks up at her with a mixture of awe and amusement. “You’re so cool, Bree.”

Bree grins, reaching over to ruffle Aura’s feathers. “I know, squirt. Now, let’s see if this dump’s got anything decent to eat. I’m starving.”

The bartender chuckles, setting a menu in front of her. “Coming right up. And for the record, lady—you’re welcome here anytime.”

Bree smirks, leaning back in her seat as the hum of the tavern fills the air. For the first time in a long while, she feels a sense of belonging—even if it’s just for a moment.