Echoes of Anima

Author's NotesAfter fulfilling a long held crush with Saide behind the general store, leaving her dripping with his seed, Wyatt must now prepare for, and come to terms with his departure from Whicketsham. Some however, want the timetable for such to be sooner than Wyatt had thought...

Told ya'll I had a lot of drafts laying around. I will warn everyone however, I am going to start writing shorter chapters. This chapter for instance was part of a draft for one that I have broken up into 4 pieces. Just makes it less daunting and more enjoyable for me tbh... Thanks all for your support as always :)

Let me know what you think of the chapter in the comments! Your feedback inspires me to write more!

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Chapter 6: The Absent Hearted Home

{Doctor Better}:Honestly, I would be cautious, Wyatt, when you are this close to home. But honestly, who am I kidding? If I could go back to my hometown and breed every girl I grew up with, I would too! So have at it, just don't stick around for the repercussions... or else you might attract unwanted attention. Get out of Wicketsham before too long... home is where the heart is, not the breeding den.

{Wyatt}:Don't worry, I don't plan to stick around. My friend at the NPSA made it clear they would be monitoring my progress.

{Doctor Better}:Certainly... always be sure to heed the cautions of our partners in the NPSA.

What an odd response, Dr. Better was absent from his typical conspiracies. He would never have thought Doctor Better would call the NPSA a partner. Something odd was going on in the tone of that last message.

Behind the general store, Wyatt waited, eyeing a dribble of cum left over from Sadie. He agreed to linger until she could give him distance, a regretful pause before moving on.

Checking his stats on the SEEDEX, he was still ahead of the week's quota.

A sharp sensation tingled his spine. Those pills that CABRI gave Wyatt were no joke. Despite feeling a bit downtrodden on his parting from Sadie, that itch in his lions was back again. If these pills were going to drive him this sexually crazy, he was going to need to take them only when necessary.

"Ahhhrooof." Requiem groaned, wondering when they could move on.

Sighing, Wyatt still grappled with that internal conflict. Though Sadie had spoken some truth to him, it didn't make it easier to leave Whicketsham.

"Fine, let's go." He nodded to the side. Walking towards the center of town. There was an Anima Market where he needed to purchase the necessities before putting this place behind him. The faster he is, the better.

The open-air market at the town center bustled with farmers peddling crops, and Anima. The sleepy townfolk were now awake, and the hustle was in full swing.

Amongst them, their Anima, living and performing various functions they were genetically designed to do. Wyatt, with Requiem close in tow, was cut off by a Biceptor not paying attention while carrying a large crate of produce from a market stall. It comically stumbled past Wyatt, till it caught sight of the ferocious-looking Requiem.

"Waaaaaa!" Apples, tomatoes, carrots, and beets flew as the crate was smashed upon the ground in terror. Carrying on its terrified mumblings, the grey muscled Anima trotted off on its two stubby legs in the opposite direction from the Westorian Nocainus. Luckily, they were on the edges of the market, with few patrons or vendors to see the source of the chaos.

"Requiem, get scarce." Wyatt pushed his terrifying Anima away. The large wolf was discontent, its personality still that of a normal-sized dog. The countless memories of getting peanuts from Mrs. Hazel at the Nutty Nook were his favorite treat. Wyatt would have to pick him up a bag... or two... he was too big for his own good now.

Responding to the strewn produce, a pair of screeching Pithotynes rushed in, crying out in frustrated chimp-noises as they blathered in their Anima speak. It was obvious they were discontent with the clumsy Biceptor's antics, both tossing their long ape-like arms about as they grabbed produce from the ground as quickly as possible.

"Now what in the hell is going on here?" A woman's voice, old, stringy, and impatient, hands on her hips as she approached the chaotic scene.

It was a good thing that Requeim had faded away. He was getting really good at stalking unseen. Wyatt knew he was close, but had no idea where.

"Oh damnit, did that clumsy Tote?" She wiped her face, thinking about her Biceptors' propensity for causing a scene. "Rig... Cargu, get this cleaned up." She tossed her arms towards the Pithotynes, who were both too small to carry the full crate the Biceptor had.

"That's a good start to the morning, I bet?" Wyatt remarked, recognizing the lady as Henrietta, a produce broker working for "Southern Sweets",a big distribution outfit based out of Isador. Her greyed hairs almost faded more as she dealt with the mess, startling her chimp-Anima with he sudden plop of a peach in the basket.

"Oh... Gods... yeah it's certainly is." Henrietta wiped her hands on her denim pants and looked up at the person she was addressing. When she saw Wyatt, a sly smile came across her face. Teasingly, she held her hands up and took a step back. "Wyatt Daycott, as I live and breathe."

Her body language was quite odd, though she was known to be eccentric. "Henrietta." He replied, unsure why she feigned backing away. Wyatt had sold her produce from his family's ranch before, so they were on somewhat familiar terms.

"Now don't get any ideas, lad, this old coot is long out of that game. You won't get much with me." She jabbed.

Unsure what in the hell this old lady was talking about, Wyatt shook his head.

"Heh... good one, boy. Good one." She clapped her hands at her Anima. "Aight, get this batch back to the warehouse. I'll go wrangle up that dunce Tote." She looked to Wyatt, wary, yet bemused. "You just stay over there, Sir. I'm talking nice and steady back this way."

There was no telling what this lady was on. Like Wyatt was bearing the plague, or she owed him money.

Venturing further into the market, the smells recalled sweet and savory memories of childhood snacks. Towards the center, vendors cooked hot food next to rows of spices lined up for the taking. These smells were being passed tenfold through the Link as Requiem's keen sense meshed with Wyatt's own sensory observations.

"Aaahhhchoo!" Wyatt blasted into the back of his elbow. His eyes watered as he passed a food stand where a Waynland Gallorid (a rooster-like Anima) sat belching fire onto a heavily spiced slab of pork. Genetica was a crazy thing; Wyatt couldn't help but watch the rooster-Anima spew fire from a gland grafted into its neck. The bioengineering it underwent allowed it to unleash flaming hell from its beak. Wyatt was amazed its beak and wattles didn't melt off in the process.

"Oh, bless you... Wyatt?!?" Lena Harker, dressed in her usual dungarees and straw hat, looked like she had seen a ghost. She was ten or so years older than Wyatt, with a pretty southern-westorian-bell-like face and demeanor. Most notable, and surprising to Wyatt, was a pair of tits to die for. A detail he would have missed prior to CABRI. His eyes dropped like rocks when he saw them.

"Lena! Hey, how are-" She split like the dark gods themselves were chasing her.

What... the... hell... was going on. Was there something on his face? Was Requeim somewhere they could see? No way... it was neither of those. That irking frustration was building up again. His incentive to get his things and leave was even higher.

Lost in his own frustrations, he didn't pay attention to where he was walking, stumbling to the ground over a screeching, and traumatized, Tuskin. Lo and behold, it was David's, formally sent reeling by the Surricovx behind the Sowteer warehouse earlier that morning.

"David... geez, sorry man." Wyatt looked up at another boy, whom he at least considered a minor friend. But what was looking down at him was anything but friendly. David's expression and demeanor seeped in hatred. He tsked rather than help him up, continuing on his merry way.

Finding his footing, Wyatt Daycott snarled. Just what was the big idea?

Confusion lingered in Wyatt's mind until he crossed paths with Ayla and Mira, two girls fresh off their Anima adventure. Beauties to boot, they did their mandatory two years on the road and decided it was best to help back on their respective families' ranches. However, being so isolated meant they rarely had the opportunity to pursue other prospects.

"Hey, Wyatt." Both noticed him, their hands finding the hems of their shirts and slowly pulling them up their stomachs to either tie them off or bunch them up. They displayed their lusty abdomens, shapely, with white flesh enough to be womanly and not too scranny. Their skin looked smooth, a tempting place to explore with eager hands. Their navels like jewels.

Now it all made sense. They knew. The whole town knew. That's why Henrietta was acting so odd, why Lena ran away so fast, and why David acted so hostile. Doctor Caldwell, in the few days of lessons he was able to give, said that women who recognize a breeder in the open will display their stomachs when interested. It was like they were showing off their fertile wombs, inviting a breeder closer.

"Ayla... uh... Mira..." I'm, uh, it's been a while.

"It has..." Mira, her voice high and singsong as she swayed before him. "We heard you were back in town."

"Well... ha... never really left left... just Anima Adventure orientation in Camelot."

Ayla stepped closer, just a head shorter than Wyatt, and bouncy with each step. The mature twenty-one-year-old licked her lips as she inspected Wyatt's expression, lowering her head and turning her hazel eyes upwards to gaze at him.

"We heard you came back from Camelot... with... some good news."

"Yeah... congrats." They both smiled, so salaciously, a look reminiscent of the nurses back at CABRI.

"Gee... seems like some rumors have gotten around about me... what did you hear?"

"Don't be so coy, Wyatt, we heard you're a breeder now."

"You... you have huh?"

"Yeah... like the whole town knows by now. Words getting around like wildfire."

Sure enough, many eyes were on him. Man, woman, boy, and girl had their sights locked on the subject of so much desire and envy. The women were either terrified of him or shared a leering desire with Mira and Ayla. The men, for the most part, wanted to be him. But absent that prospect, were sooner going to beat him to a pulp. The situation was getting a bit hairy.

"How...?"

Both girls laughed, touching Wyatt freely on his chest and arms as they drew closer.

"Hannah, of course. You know your sister, she can't keep her mouth shut. And oh-boy is she proud." Mira gleened, wrapping her arm around his.

"Hannah..." Wyatt growled. His sister was going to get him in a ton of trouble.

"Oh, common, Wyatt, don't be mad at your sweet sister. She has been your biggest marketer; she has women all around Whicketsham all riled up."

"Yeah, you could spend a week here and still have a line."

"Just so long as we are first..."

"Wow... uh, I don't know what to say..." Wyatt certainly didn't want to say no. Both girls were beautiful, and those CABRI supplements were doing the trick.

"Oh my gosh, Mira..." Ayla gasped, looking down at a growing bulge in Wyatt's pants.

"Oh fuck..." Mira reached out to touch it, her hand sheepishly gripping it to the tune of Wyatt's groan.

Looking around, Wyatt cleared his throat, stepping back as many were watching both girls devolve into sexual degeneracy in public.

"Hey uh... let's not..."

"Do this here? Agreed. Too many eyes, and I want to shed some layers..."

"Let's go back to my place... it's close..."

"What, so you can have him first?"

"Ladies!" A fourth voice interrupted the two friends bickering about who would jump on Wyatt's cock first. It was a deep yet still feminine, a bit of pleghm at the end of the proclimation.

Familiar to most in town, Momma Vetta... owner of the titular restaurant and bar fare. She was a large woman with short hair and a mean scowl. She never gave Wyatt a second look before, but it seemed the news had reached her, because her eyes looked less than friendly.

"Hey Wyatt, we are going to go." Ayla and Mira pulled their shirts down, rubbed Wyatt on the arm for good luck, and dashed away. "Get with us later, ok?"

Behind Momma Veeta were two towering Anima. A Brawnifer, covered in dark hair with a large barrel chest, two long skinny legs, and massive arms. The second, a Lithogre, an Anima Wyatt was all too familiar with since one had smacked him into the wall during Team Pruity's attack on CABRI. Neither Anima, like their master, looked very pleased.

"Wyatt Daycott." Veeta grimaced, crossing her arms as the Brawnifer cracked its knuckles. "I heard a nasty rumor about you." She stepped closer, looking the boy up and down.

From behind, a dark flash and a snarl, Requiem swooped down from its stalking position and guarded Wyatt's flank. It growled, and the crowds fell back as the center of the market turned into a battlefield. Though Wyatt felt better to have his Nocanis behind him, the two large Anima Veeta brought with her could probably give Requiem a run for his money.

"Momma Veeta." Wyatt responded. "Not sure what you mean."

"I think you know what I mean, you nasty little thing." She looked at the receding bulge in his pants, still excited from Ayla and Mira's teasing.

"What's it to you?" Wyatt played it cool. Several around town looked upon the scene with differing prospects. In the minotirty, a few women looked fearful for Wyatt, concerned for his safety. The majority, conversely, seemed satisfied Wyatt might get what was coming to him.

"It's business," Veeta responded, shrugging her shoulders.

A deafening whistle interrupted their conversation, and a few of the local Constabulary jogged into the middle of the market, their own Anima bounding behind. A Vulpivious, fox-like Anima jumped between the two parties as if to separate them. Yet it was so much smaller than either Requiem or the Brawnifer and Lithogre opposing him.

"Hey, hey, what's going on here?" The constable walked with a whistle in hand and a baton in the other. "This is no place for a trainer battle. Take it to the outskirts for that.

"Oh, nothing of the sort, Vernon, just catching up with ol' Daycott over here." Veeta sinisterly smiled. "Like I was saying, it's business, Daycott, and you are interrupting mine. Be out of town by the end of the day tomorrow." Her hulking mass walked away with both her ferice Anima flanking in retrograde.

It was not something he expected from his hometown. But did he just get put on notice to leave? A sinking despair washed over him as he realized he was no longer welcome in the one place he knew.

"Sorry, Wyatt, I'd listen to her." The meager town constable shrugged his shoulders, knowing the reality of the situation. Momma Veeta ran this town, and its underbelly. If she wanted you gone, you were gone. But what did Wyatt have to do with her business?

"Tsk." From behind, a familiar disappointment interrupted Wyatt's retort to the constable. From the crowd, he spotted his grandmother, Hannah, in tow. Hannah motioned her hand as if she would handle the stewing old progenitor of their family. But it did little to fill in that growing hole in his heart.

What had he done to earn her ire? The woman who raised him. Faced with exile, his grandmother wouldn't stand for him. He wanted to scold Hannah for telling his secret, but felt it best to have that conversation later. She looked sorry already as she retreated to follow their grandmother, facing him till she couldn't any longer.

There was no way Hannah could have predicted this reaction. Now the town either loathed him or wanted to fuck him. Perhaps that's why breeders are trained to be discreet and rarely come to Whicketsham.

He was given a wide berth from there on out, Requeim trotting behind as his constant guardian. A few girls still pulled up their shirts to show him their luscious stomachs, but Wyatt didn't feel the desire to stop and chat. Maybe before leaving town, he would pay a few visits; he recognized enough faces that he could just make house calls if he dared. Somehow, he couldn't picture how that would go over.

Arriving at the Anima Market, Wyatt passed vendors eager to cash in on his newly earned coin, mothers shielding their daughters from his sight, his male peers' hateful gaze, and women either lining up to beg him or flee him. Small towns were a different breed, and rumor and superstition ran deep.

"Wyatt Daycott." A familiar and raspy voice, repeating the exclamation of the day, met his arrival on the steps of the Anima market. Ol' Joe, in the flesh, sat on his favorite bench, chewing something green.

"Joe." Wyatt was apprehensive. Joe had been a father-like figure to him growing up, teaching him all sorts of things about Anima and farming. The thought that this news about Wyatt would turn even Joe against him raked his very soul.

"I heard the news about ya." Joe had a few Anima scurrying around him. Mostly a Lacustrix perched on the bench backrest. The lizard Anima, meant for watering soil through their massive jowls, flicked its tongue as it watched Requiem approach intently.

"You did huh..." Wyatt's head sank.

"Proud of ya boy." Joe nodded his head in respect.

The young man, who felt so small in Joe's presence, was taken aback. Proud of him? When half the town wanted to chase him out? He was gobstruck.

"Best you don't listen to these fools here, boy. You're on to bigger and better things. Them being all hateful like this, it ain't you, it's them. They got their own envy and histories to deal with. Don't let 'em take it out on you."

A small tear welled in Wyatt's eyes, but in the face of such a man, he held it back out of respect. He could only nod his head while keeping it together.

"You go out there now, remember all the things I taught ya bout Anima, and, well, you know... save the world." A rare event, Joe smiled, before he spat out a chunk of whatever he kept in his lip.

"I will," Wyatt said in an equally raspy voice. He held up his head proudly, feeling some part of himself whole again with Joe's words.

"Good. Now get on in there and get what you need. Let me take a look at ol' Req here for a second."

"Sure.... sure thing."

Requiem trotted up to old Joe, who was a familiar face back when the Westorian Nocanis was much smaller. Sniffing him and the interesting scent the old man was chewing on, old Joe struck up a conversation with the now much larger Anima as Wyatt stepped inside.

Within, healing sprays, creams, Anima vitamins, lures for catching new Anima, a tranquilizer dart, sturdy backpack, camping gear, and all other manner of supplies came to a hefty price. But his stipend more than covered it. Plus, he had a hefty sum headed his way at week's end should he meet his quota. As he passed his phone over to the teller, the older lady couldn't help but stare down at his crotch to try and catch sight of what a hard cock looked like.

Oblivious to the lewd gaze, Wyatt wondered if he should leave some money with Hannah and his grandmother. He wondered if his grandmother would even take it? Sighing, he thanked the teller and went outside to collect Requeim.

"Now, I tell ya folks, the boy ain't done nothing wrong." Joe, as cool as ever, shouted out over a crowd that had gathered at the front of the Anima Market. Requeim was in a defensive posture, the hairs on his back raised.

Two dozen or so members of the town, men, women, and his peers, formed a mob at the foot of the market. Some had the pitchforks in hand, while others readied the Anima at their side. There was an eagerness to fight, not just drive him out. Wyatt was unsure what he could even do to avoid it.