Clover refused to be a statistic. Her uncle had warned her when she went off to the big city, off to "that damned college", that she'd be back within a month. Leporids -- the unspoken 'prey species' was clear in his tone -- weren't meant to leave their hometowns, their safe enclaves. Clover had explained that there hadn't been sentient-on-sentient hunting in over a thousand years, that she was as likely to be killed by a fellow Leporid as she was by a Canid, but he'd just shaken his head. Her dad had told her to follow her heart, and that he was immensely proud of her either way, and his brother had finally taken that as a sign to shut up.
She'd gotten a peek at the admissions statistics last week. Of the twenty other Freshman Leporids, six hadn't stayed until the fall break. With the winter break quickly approaching, they were down another two. She had to admit that the level of constant anxiety she felt here was a little overwhelming, even with the medication the college doctor prescribed. Her smartwatch kept warning her throughout the day that her heart was beating too fast, which really wasn't helping, either.
Clover tried to at least relax her expression, tried to not look terrified. Not looking afraid was the first step to not being afraid. All she had to do was walk down this hallway to her class. Once she was in her seat and with the teacher, things would be a little easier.
As she rounded the corner, her adrenaline spiked before she even consciously registered why. A massive Lupine was walking ahead of her, easily head and shoulders taller than Clover. Her fur was thick, bunching up around clothes that didn't quite fit anymore, not with a winter coat. It could've looked comical, but to Clover it just looked more like a feral beast stuffed into clothing. Thought fled as she tried to make herself small and unnoticeable against the wall, her breath coming in short gasps.
The Lupine, in turn, didn't even notice her. She strode into the classroom Clover was supposed to go to as if she owned it. Eyes darting, Clover tried find a way out, find all the escape routes, find somewhere to hide. She caught herself turning around and forced five slow breaths as she steadied herself against the wall.
"Are you okay, Clover?"
Her attention snapped to the deep-voiced speaker, eyes still saucer-wide. The teacher, a Cervid with streaks of silver in his hair. Her panicked brain could not retrieve his name for the life of her.
As soon as he saw her panicked eyes, he nodded knowingly. "Ah. You saw Lara. I do apologize, I meant to warn class last week."
"L-- L-- Lara?"
"She's the new TA. I promise you on everything I hold dear, she's a sweetheart through and through."
"T-- T-- TA?" Clover swallowed and tried to compose herself. She knew something like this might happen, but the reality of it hit her hard. Through a monumental force of will, she managed to steady her voice before she went on. "I guess I'll have an opportunity to get used to her then."
---
A month later, after winter break, snow covered the campus. Clover bundled up tight, her ears tucked into a knit cap, and an oversized scarf stuffed into her bulging padded coat, the surface frosted by her breath.
In the couple of weeks of classes before break, she'd gotten used to Lara a little. If she was really honest with herself, that was mostly because she managed to plan her arrival after her, and rushed out before the massive wolf could stand up. Every twitch of her pointed ears caused Clover's heart to skip a beat, and every shift in her chair triggered an anxiety attack.
The winter cold bit at her exposed parts, cutting straight through her fur. Her subspecies wasn't built for this climate, not by a long shot. She just wanted to get back to her room and turn up the heat, maybe even curl up under the blankets for a few hours. Her homework had been piling up, but a lot of it was just reading, and she could totally do that curled up in a giant pile of blankets.
Lost in thought, head down, vision obscured by the fog of her own breath and her ears tucked away under a thick wool cap, she didn't notice the door opening just ahead of her. The noise of footfalls and fur rustling against clothes hit her brain the instant after her face pressed into that fur.
"Oh, sorry!" A voice from far above her head, musical and familiar but with that predator edge that sent an immediate chill down her spine.
Time slowed to a crawl as Clover inhaled, her first breath since the impact. The scent of an apex predator shot up her nose, pure and undiluted. Instincts buried deep in her genes told her to go limp and pray to Mother Nature the predator would think she'd been dead too long to eat. Only a monumental force of will kept her on her feet.
Even before she'd found her balance again, her conscious mind blanked entirely. She spun and sprinted back the way she'd come, almost bowling over a group of chattering Corvids.
She could just hear a startled "Wait, I'm sorry!" before she rounded the corner of the natural sciences building and just kept on running until she made it to safety of the Leporine Society.
---
The next day, Clover felt more awkward than she ever had in her entire life. Lara was at the class she TA'd ahead of her, like always, and gave her a friendly smile and a nod as she walked in. Feeling like an utter piece of shit for treating Lara like nothing more than a set of teeth and a stomach, but still too terrified to apologize for her behavior, she just tried to shrink into her seat until it was time to leave.
---
Her encounters with the large Lupine never quite got to that level of terror gain, but only because Clover got better at avoiding her, learning her schedule through sheer panic whenever she did run into her. Oddly enough, she had no issue anymore with her Vulpine or Canine classmates, and none of the current crop of Feline students was descended from the big cats. Lara was the only wolf currently on campus, and by far the largest she'd ever seen, male or female.
Spring break was approaching soon, and with it, a visit back home. The greenery flourished this time of year, which always made Clover feel alive. She was headed to the library to study, relishing walking under the safe canopy of her umbrella as the rain came pouring down, running in rivulets along the sidewalk. Everything looked green and vibrant despite the overcast skies and--
Lara's scent hit her nose. No, no! She was supposed to be in class, she was in the linguistics building on Thursday afternoons, halfway across campus, and-- Clover's eyes darted, trying to spot the source of her terror, when she heard a soft sob. Instantly locking on to where the noise came from, she spotted Lara sitting on a bench across the deserted street, head in hands and soaked to the bone. What was left of her backpack was on the ground in front of her, the side torn open, books and notepads spilled out onto the wet pavement.
She doubted most people would've heard the sniffling and sobbing even standing right next to her, but Clover could hear every sub-harmonic, every subtle micro-shift in pitch, even from thirty paces away. Even if she wasn't used to listening to wolves cry, she could tell that Lara was completely and utterly overwhelmed. Something had happened, something bad, maybe several bad things, and she'd been holding it together by sheer force of will, but now her bag had broken and she was soaked and it had all just become too much.
Silver fur clung to Lara's frame. Her t-shirt was soaked through, showing the pattern of fur underneath. She looked so sad, so utterly alone and vulnerable sitting in the downpour, watching her carefully kept notes bleed and wash out in the rain, that Clover took a step towards her without even thinking.
Panic still gripped her, an instinct buried deep, but compassion won out. The second step was hard, but the third came easier. Before she knew it, she stood in front of Lara, umbrella held out. Lara clearly needed it more than she did, and she really didn't mind the rain.
"Hold this?" Clover was surprised by how steady her voice was.
Lara looked up, tears staining her ice-blue eyes. Daggers of fear stabbed into Clover's back, but she forced her hand to stay steady as Lara took the umbrella. Kneeling in front of Lara, with those eyes the color of a frozen ocean and ten times deeper on her, was the hardest thing she'd ever done in her life. But she managed. She pulled a plastic bag from her own backpack and gathered Lara's belongings in it, careful not to smear the ink any more than it already had been.
"Thank you," Lara said.
Clover could hear the tears Lara held back, could hear the well of sadness and loneliness deep inside, and felt her panicked heart swell with compassion.
Lara made to give the umbrella back, but Clover shook her head. "I think you need it more than me right now."
Her smart watch beeped, warning her that her heart rate was dangerously high, so she slipped it off and stuffed it in a pocket. She tried to control her breathing a little, tried to slow her racing heart, but the smell of predator was so strong in her nose... No amount of showering or perfume could disguise that. The smell of Lara's tears was almost as strong though, as was the echo of her overwhelmed quiet sobbing from earlier.
"There's a cafe down the street. I know the owner, she keeps towels in case of, well," Clover nodded up at the soot black clouds overhead. "Would you like to have some tea together?"
"I can't afford--"
"My treat."
"You sure? You... I'm sorry, but you smell terrified."
"Mm-hmm," Clover said, staring straight ahead, trying to keep her composure. "Some chamomile will calm me right down."
---
