full
[18+] “Brandy and Fire” by Driftwood (read by Dralen)
[18+] A noble wolf is torn between a growing desire for his best friend and his belief in “proper manners”. Will he accept his newly-discovered desires, or will he live in regret?
Today’s story is “Brandy and Fire” by Driftwood, a rabbit with a passion for reading and writing. Recently, his short story “Between the Mist and the Sun was published in the xenofiction anthology Empire of Beasts by Lost Boys Press. You can send him a message on Telegram @driftwood_rabbit.
Read by Dralen, the Dapper Dragonfox.
thevoice.dog | Apple podcasts | Spotify | Google Podcasts
If you have a story you think would be a good fit, you can check out the requirements, fill out the submission template and get in touch with us.
https://thevoice.dog/episode/18-brandy-and-fire-by-driftwood
Transcript
Today's story concerns adult subject matter for mature listeners.
Speaker:If that's not your cup of tea,
Speaker:or there are youngsters listening,
Speaker:please skip this one
Speaker:and come back for another story another time.
Speaker:You’re listening to Pride Month on The Voice of Dog.
Speaker:This is Rob MacWolf, your fellow traveler,
Speaker:and Today’s story is
Speaker:“Brandy and Fire” by Driftwood,
Speaker:a rabbit with a passion for reading and writing.
Speaker:Recently, his short story “Between the Mist and the Sun
Speaker:was published in the xenofiction anthology Empire of Beasts
Speaker:by Lost Boys Press. You can
Speaker:send him a message on Telegram
Speaker:@driftwood_rabbit.
Speaker:As understandable, and indeed
Speaker:necessary, as it is to tear down the prison walls
Speaker:of heteronormative society,
Speaker:we must remember that like any society,
Speaker:those walls are built
Speaker:of people’s lives.
Speaker:They cannot be broken harmlessly.
Speaker:Yet broken they must be, somehow. So let us remember
Speaker:that it is not the ones who tear them down
Speaker:that built them. And that the suffering,
Speaker:ultimately, is the responsibility of those
Speaker:who built the walls.
Speaker:Read by Dralen, the Dapper Dragonfox.
Speaker:Please enjoy “Brandy and Fire”
Speaker:by Driftwood The meal had been excellent,
Speaker:but the storm had worsened. Detlev Milivoj heard the wind howling outside the luxurious wooden cabin, ice and snow rattling against the windows as he strolled leisurely in front of the crackling fireplace. The last guests
Speaker:had left
Speaker:over an hour ago.
Speaker:Rude, thought the wolf,
Speaker:crossing his powerful arms behind his back.
Speaker:He sent them away too soon to rest the meal.
Speaker:He wants me alone.
Speaker:Detlev stopped momentarily and stared into the fire.
Speaker:It cracked and popped,
Speaker:filling the cozy lounge with warmth,
Speaker:light and the pleasant scent of burning pinewood;
Speaker:he would rather be in the storm.
Speaker:His tan fur turned gold in the orange glow of the fire,
Speaker:accentuating his elegant
Speaker:dark vest and bestowing a regal air upon him.
Speaker:Every few seconds there came distant creaks and patters of dog servants
Speaker:walking, opening doors, and clearing the table.
Speaker:Soon they’ll go.
Speaker:Soon we’ll be alone. I don’t want that.
Speaker:He pulled out a golden pocket watch from his vest’s pocket.
:12 PM. He considered his options as he circled the fireplace, trying to ignore the tempting velvet chairs behind him.
:To make himself comfortable would be a sign of him feeling at home in this cabin.
:Stefan would assume he was feeling good, and then...
:No. Detlev killed that line of thought.
:Count Dieuwer, not Stefan.
:You’re not on a first name basis.
:A ridiculous statement
:and he knew it. They had grown up together,
:two like-minded heirs of renowned wolf families with distant ties to royalty.
:Instead of squandering their families' fortunes like most of their privileged peers,
:they had augmented it,
:climbing the social pyramid through hard work,
:diplomacy and an occasional deal under the table.
:When Count Dieuwer bought the largest financial firm in the region
:he put Detlev in charge as his trusted accountant,
:and business bloomed.
:But their busy lives away from home eventually led to tensions with their wives. Detlev recalled that weekend,
:little less than a month ago.
:He was fighting with Lidija,
:Stefan -Count Dieuwer-
:with Andeline. The latter suggested spending a weekend here, in his private cabin,
:ice fishing from dawn
:to dusk “Just the two of us, Detlev,”
:he had said over the telephone,
:and Detlev could hear his grin.
:“For old times' sake,
:like we’re still bachelors.
:Forget the world.
:Forget Lidija. I'll do the same.”
:Still staring at the fire,
:Detlev couldn’t help but smile.
Stefan:always the hot-headed,
Stefan:the impulsive dreamer.
Stefan:If he wanted to do something, he did it.
Stefan:His mouth was always faster than his head.
Stefan:Meanwhile, Detlev was cautious and calm,
Stefan:rational and realistic,
Stefan:formal to a fault.
Stefan:It had always been like that since high school.
Stefan:If he thought about it,
Stefan:was it so surprising that they had achieved so much?
Stefan:They were a system in equilibrium,
Stefan:each other’s counterweight.
Stefan:They complimented each other well.
Stefan:So wonderfully well.
Stefan:Detlev cleared those thoughts and looked up at the mounted pike above the fireplace.
Stefan:He had caught it at the end of the second day of fishing after a wonderful fight;
Stefan:it almost didn’t fit through the hole in the ice.
Stefan:Stefan and him returned to the cabin cheering and whooping,
Stefan:ruffing each other’s fur affectionately.
Stefan:The servants managed to save the skin while the cooks had their fun:
Stefan:finally something different than salted cod for dinner.
Stefan:Soon there were roasted pike steaks on the table,
Stefan:coated in fine butter and herbs.
Stefan:Both wolves ate like kings and drank white wine like lemonade.
Stefan:The fish was so large that
Stefan:even the servants had a taste, though
Stefan:they had to wash it down with water.
Stefan:The wolves then sat by this same fireplace in these velvet chairs,
Stefan:sharing obscene stories,
Stefan:gossiping about their wives and laughing all the way,
Stefan:Stefan loud, Detlev low and polite
Stefan:even under the influence of many glasses of wine.
Stefan:They stayed together by the fire past midnight,
Stefan:long after the servants had left for their rooms.
Stefan:Silence eventually replaced laughter and they found themselves staring in each other’s eyes.
Stefan:It was the first time Detlev realized how good-looking Stefan was.
Stefan:The wolf count's fur was so black it shimmered in the lowlight.
Stefan:His white sleeves were rolled up, showcasing bulging muscles.
Stefan:His hands were large and strong,
Stefan:while his sharp claws gave him an aggressive yet
Stefan:sensual air. Two yellow eyes like twin full moons
Stefan:contrasted beautifully against the dark,
Stefan:large head. Detlev knew he was no weakling himself;
Stefan:the outline of his pectorals and biceps against the fabric of his vest proved that.
Stefan:Yet, the aura radiating from Stefan was so much stronger,
Stefan:so much rawer,
Stefan:that the tan wolf saw himself as inferior
Stefan:for the first time in his life.
Stefan:“I think it’s time to go to bed,”
Stefan:suggested the count after a particularly long silence,
Stefan:a gentle smile showing ivory-white fangs as he rose from his chair.
Stefan:“It’s getting late and you’re a pisser when you’re drunk.”
Stefan:“I’m not drunk,” protested Detlev as he tried to get up,
Stefan:felt the world spin and
Stefan:plopped down again on the velvet chair.
Stefan:“Just tipsy.” Stefan let out a grave chuckle as he held out a handpaw for the tan wolf.
Stefan:“Come on then.” Detlev took the black paw,
Stefan:felt himself being pulled up by a powerful arm,
Stefan:then leaning against the strong body of his companion.
Stefan:They wrapped their arms around each other’s shoulder as Stefan began walking slowly.
Stefan:Following with uncoordinated steps,
Stefan:Detlev barely kept up with his friend.
Stefan:Even so, in those
Stefan:warm, sinewy arms,
Stefan:he knew there was no risk of falling down.
Stefan:He was surprised by Stefan’s resistance to alcohol,
Stefan:who drank the most and still appeared to be stone-cold sober.
Stefan:They slowly and carefully ascended the stairs
Stefan:and reached the bedrooms on the second floor.
Stefan:Stefan opened the door to Detlev’s room,
Stefan:guided him to the king-sized bed before sitting on it by his side.
Stefan:The servants had already stoked the cast-iron stove between the bed and the window for warmth,
Stefan:and had lighted the candle on the nightstand closer to the door.
Stefan:The flickering candlelight danced on the sturdy wooden walls as the two wolves remained in silence for a minute,
Stefan:arms still draped over each other as they gazed ahead blankly at the open door.
Stefan:Stefan finally let his arm slip off Detlev’s shoulder, before saying softly:
Stefan:“It was a beautiful pike.”
Stefan:“Yes, it was,” replied the tan wolf, nodding along.
Stefan:“A very nice fish.
Stefan:Marvelous fight too.”
Stefan:The count grinned.
Stefan:“I thought that pole would snap,
Stefan:but it held nicely.” Detlev nodded.
Stefan:“It’s a fine pole.”
Stefan:Silence again, a few seconds.
Stefan:Stefan cleared his throat before standing up,
Stefan:making the bed creak.
Stefan:“Well, see you tomorrow, friend Milivoj.”
Stefan:He went to the ajar door.
Stefan:“See you tomorrow, Count,”
Stefan:replied Detlev flatly,
Stefan:following the black wolf with his eyes.
Stefan:Stefan took the doorknob and froze for a moment.
Stefan:He then turned around slowly,
Stefan:meeting the eyes of his friend.
Stefan:As their stares crossed,
Stefan:the two wolves recognized something in each other they had only felt for their wives a long time ago,
Stefan:something that went beyond their close friendship.
Stefan:A longing; a hungry flame.
Stefan:Remembering that night in front of the fireplace,
Stefan:Detlev tried to blame Stefan,
Stefan:though he knew the fault had been his.
Stefan:He should’ve turned away and say goodnight.
Stefan:Instead, he stared deep into those golden eyes,
Stefan:drawn to them like iron to a magnet.
Stefan:But it was Stefan who closed the door,
Stefan:went over to the bed and sat next to the sitting Detlev,
Stefan:closer than before,
Stefan:tan and black fur pressed against each another.
Stefan:“Count Dieuwer...” Detlev whispered,
Stefan:then gasped as a handpaw rested on his thigh.
Stefan:“Sod off with your formalities,”
Stefan:Stefan smiled, tracing little circles on the strong thigh with a claw that started to slowly move higher up.
Stefan:“When was the last time you called me by my first name, Detlev?”
Stefan:He leaned closer to the other wolf,
Stefan:his dark head soon nuzzling his friend’s own affectionately.
Stefan:“This is improper, Count,”
Stefan:Detlev protested meekly,
Stefan:his eyes closed as he tried to deny and resist his overwhelming desire.
Stefan:“Then say no,” Stefan teased in a whisper,
Stefan:holding Detlev’s muzzle gently between his digits.
Stefan:“Just say no and I’ll stop.”
Stefan:Detlev didn’t say no a few seconds later, when Stefan lifted his muzzle and kissed him gently on his dark lips.
Stefan:He didn’t say no to the second kiss, which was rougher,
Stefan:needier, their long course tongues rasping and sliding against each other.
Stefan:He didn’t say no when Stefan unbuttoned the accountant’s vest and pulled up his shirt,
Stefan:then ran his digits along the short tan fur,
Stefan:drawing figures in it with his claws.
Stefan:He didn’t say no when he was pushed down on the soft bed,
Stefan:felt Stefan’s body pressing down upon him,
Stefan:hot breaths washing over his neck and chest.
Stefan:He didn’t say no
Stefan:when Stefan removed his own clothes and blew out the bedside candle.
Stefan:And after being taken for the first time,
Stefan:Detlev begged for more.
Stefan:Soon after returning home,
Stefan:Detlev made peace with his wife Lidija.
Stefan:That same day Stefan asked Andeline for a divorce. *
Stefan:Eleven chimes from a longcase clock brought Detlev back to the present.
Stefan:Was it so late already?
Stefan:The fire in front of him was beginning to wind down and he wondered briefly if someone would come to stoke it with fresh wood,
Stefan:when he heard the creaking of an old door,
Stefan:followed by footsteps on the wooden stairs.
Stefan:Even with his back turned to the staircase and his gaze locked unto the dying fire,
Stefan:Detlev knew who it was.
Stefan:He straightened his stance,
Stefan:put his handpaws in his pockets to appear confident,
Stefan:but couldn’t stop his ears from swiveling down slightly in shame.
Stefan:He didn’t move when Stefan came by his side,
Stefan:holding an unopened bottle of brandy in one handpaw
Stefan:and two carved crystal glasses in the other.
Stefan:“You were quiet today at the table, friend Milivoj,”
Stefan:said the Count airily.
Stefan:Detlev took a few seconds to reply.
Stefan:“I’m afraid the topics of the conversation were not of my interest, Count.” A slight
Stefan:smile from Stefan.
Stefan:“Understandable. Perhaps some fine brandy will loosen your tongue?”
Stefan:The bastard wants to loosen more than my tongue,
Stefan:thought Detlev. Then he said gently:
Stefan:“Perhaps it will.” “Good.”
Stefan:Stefan laid the glasses and bottle on a table between the two velvet chairs.
Stefan:“The fire is low and it’s getting cold.
Stefan:I think you should put on your coat.”
Stefan:“I think you’re right.”
Stefan:Detlev started to turn to the coatrack a few steps away from the fireplace,
Stefan:but was interrupted by Stefan
Stefan:walking briskly past him to the rack.
Stefan:The Count returned a few seconds later wearing his own bronze-colored coat
Stefan:and holding Detlev’s darker one.
Stefan:The latter reached out for his coat in Stefan’s paws,
Stefan:but the Count ignored him and went to stand behind him.
Stefan:“Allow me,” he whispered,
Stefan:before wrapping the coat around Detlev’s shoulders.
Stefan:His strong paws lingered
Stefan:just a second too long on those shoulders,
Stefan:and Detlev stopped breathing when they squeezed his muscles,
Stefan:sharp claws sending electricity through his flesh when they pricked his fur through his vest.
Stefan:“I came here to find you,
Stefan:friend Milivoj.” The count’s warm breaths tickled the back of the tan neck as he leaned closer.
Stefan:“But we can talk and drink more comfortably upstairs.”
Stefan:Detlev needed a second to swallow and find his voice.
Stefan:“I’d... rather stay here for a while.”
Stefan:Stefan released his grip on his shoulders, and said calmly:
Stefan:“As you wish.” He sat down on the chair at the right of Detlev.
Stefan:“Please sit down and let us talk.”
Stefan:The accountant finally sat down.
Stefan:Both chairs were fairly close to each other, so the males could comfortably reach out for the glassware on the table between them.
Stefan:Stefan took the bottle of brandy and pulled out the cork with gusto,
Stefan:producing a triumphant pop.
Stefan:He smiled widely;
Stefan:Detlev barely curled his lips.
Stefan:“What should we toast for?”
Stefan:asked Detlev as Stefan started to serve one glass.
Stefan:The count proceeded to pour brandy in the second snifter,
Stefan:then raised his shoulders and said triumphantly:
Stefan:“Life, liberty... love.”
Stefan:His golden eyes flicked to Detlev, who instantly felt a knot in his throat.
Stefan:“Well, cheers then.”
Stefan:Forcing a smile, Detlev took his generously-filled glass in a weak paw
Stefan:and raised it to Stefan.
Stefan:“Cheers, friend.” The fine crystal clinked together.
Stefan:Both wolves observed the deep-orange flames of the fireplace as they held the brandy in their paws,
Stefan:warming it slightly,
Stefan:volatilizing the alcohol and a myriad of delicate aromas.
Stefan:Stefan was the first to raise the glass to his sensitive snout,
Stefan:his dark nostrils flaring up at the strong liquor before taking a large sip.
Stefan:Detlev emulated his companion
Stefan:and felt tipsy after the first taste,
Stefan:even though he knew alcohol works on a delay.
Stefan:“What do you think?”
Stefan:Stefan turned to his friend, smiling in expectation.
Stefan:“Smooth,” Detlev croaked as his throat burned.
Stefan:“Yes... smooth.” The count stared down pensively at the amber liquid.
Stefan:A short silence followed, then he said,
Stefan:“I’ll be divorcing Andeline next month.”
Stefan:Even though Detlev suspected this would happen,
Stefan:the news still came as a shock.
Stefan:“Have you thought this through, Stefan?”
Stefan:he asked, the count’s first name slipping off his tongue.
Stefan:The black wolf nodded calmly.
Stefan:“I have no regrets.
Stefan:I’m free now.” He took another sip of brandy, then looked back at Detlev.
Stefan:“How’s Lidija?” “Same old, I guess,”
Stefan:The accountant took a long gulp of brandy just to stall his next words.
Stefan:“She’s a good wolfess and...”
Stefan:“Do you love her?” interrupted Stefan harshly.
Stefan:Detlev was taken aback.
Stefan:“I... I certainly do.”
Stefan:A dismissive snort from the count.
Stefan:“No, you don’t. We married out of necessity,
Stefan:not love.” His voice became heated.
Stefan:“Our wives feel the same way.
Stefan:It’s nothing more than an obsolete social contract, that marriage stuff.
Stefan:I know you feel the same way, Detlev.”
Stefan:Stefan’s gaze reflected a particular kind of vulnerability,
Stefan:something that Detlev
Stefan:never expected to see.
Stefan:“Why can’t we let go of all those idiotic protocols society puts on us?
Stefan:Why can’t we just be ourselves?”
Stefan:Detlev was astonished.
Stefan:For almost a whole minute he was speechless, while Stefan looked at him anxiously,
Stefan:almost pleading with his full-moon eyes.
Stefan:Detlev then muttered out:
Stefan:“I think you need to cool your head. That’s inappropriate talk.”
Stefan:“To hell with appropriateness!”
Stefan:Stefan spat. “We didn’t come this far just to let others tell us what to do, how to behave!”
Stefan:“I believe in proper conduct.
Stefan:conduct.” Detlev’s voice was thin.
Stefan:“Self-control. Manners.
Stefan:We wolves of class need to know how to behave.”
Stefan:The count turned away, smiling broadly, shaking his head.
Stefan:Detlev knew those mannerisms:
Stefan:Stefan used them to release some emotions whenever he was in a heated discussion.
Stefan:The black wolf turned back to him, grinning.
Stefan:“You didn’t care much for proper conduct in bed, friend Milivoj.”
Stefan:Detlev’s cheeks burned under his fur.
Stefan:“What happened last time between the two of us was a mistake,”
Stefan:he mumbled. “You were begging for more.”
Stefan:Stefan’s cheeky smile widened as he leaned closer.
Stefan:“Don’t lie to yourself.”
Stefan:Those words struck a chord within Detlev, who slammed his glass down on the table as he shot up,
Stefan:towering over Stefan’s chair.
Stefan:“I was drunk and you took advantage of me, you bastard!”
Stefan:Stefan rose up as well and closed the small distance between them until their muzzles were nearly touching.
Stefan:A low growl reverberated involuntarily from the count’s throat like
Stefan:nearing thunder. “Don’t you dare say that, you fool. I set you free.
Stefan:You wanted to do everything you did with me, and you know it.”
Stefan:His right handpaw grabbed Detlev’s side firmly,
Stefan:producing a surprised yelp from the accountant, as he pressed their bodies together
Stefan:and whispered hoarsely:
Stefan:“I know you want this.”
Stefan:Detlev felt the heat and strength from the other wolf as he tried to blame the warm fluttering in his stomach on the brandy.
Stefan:That strong black paw on his side
Stefan:travelled to his back,
Stefan:squeezing his flesh, as Stefan rested his left handpaw
Stefan:behind Detlev’s head. “Shhh...
Stefan:Just let go,” the count whispered into his ear,
Stefan:“Just let go.” His left paw pushed Detlev’s head unto his shoulder
Stefan:until both wolves were embracing each other tightly, their cheeks rubbing together.
Stefan:“I...” croaked the accountant through his hazy mind.
Stefan:He wanted to fight,
Stefan:but all strength seemed to leave his body as his legs turned to putty
Stefan:and he tried desperately to stay on two paws.
Stefan:He didn’t realize how fast and hard he was breathing until he heard himself panting against Stefan’s cheek
Stefan:and erect ear. Detlev's heart was racing,
Stefan:paw pads sweating profusely as he resisted the temptation to surrender his body to the forceful embrace.
Stefan:“Yes?” Stefan whispered into a tan ear,
Stefan:allowing his right paw to travel further down Detlev’s back
Stefan:until it was playing with the accountant’s tail,
Stefan:who whined shamefully in response.
Stefan:Detlev fought an internal battle.
Stefan:One side of his mind reminded him of past pleasures,
Stefan:telling him how easy it would be to surrender,
Stefan:while the other resisted stubbornly.
Stefan:It was as if the count was whispering sweet temptations
Stefan:directly into his brain.
Stefan:Even so, the fog over his mind started to clear as the initial shock of Stefan’s advance went away.
Stefan:“No,” said the accountant dryly,
Stefan:regaining the strength in his limbs. “No!”
Stefan:He pushed himself away from Stefan’s chest,
Stefan:who released him immediately and eyed him with surprise.
Stefan:The tan wolf was panting as if he had run a marathon,
Stefan:his stand defensive, handpaws balled into fists as the two glared at each other for several seconds.
Stefan:Eventually, Detlev cleared his throat and muttered:
Stefan:“I... I shall take my leave now,
Stefan:Count Dieuwer.” Stefan nodded slowly as hot anger flowed into his eyes.
Stefan:“Fine then,” he spat out, baring his fangs.
Stefan:“Fine then! Go ahead and return to that bitch of your wife!”
Stefan:He took his glass and threw it into the dying fire;
Stefan:the flames flared up momentarily.
Stefan:Detlev winced back, his indignation replaced by bewilderment.
Stefan:The count turned to the kitchen in the front of the cabin, to the right of the staircase and the fireplace.
Stefan:“Werner!” he screamed at the empty room,
Stefan:hoping to be heard through the thick wooden walls.
Stefan:“Werner! Get up you lazy dog!”
Stefan:A small door between the kitchen and the staircase creaked open slowly, and out shuffled an old Irish terrier with long, graying fur cascading over and around his sleepy eyes.
Stefan:He held a lit candle and was clothed in a worn-down vest
Stefan:draped over his bedtime rags and hunched back.
Stefan:“What is it, Count Dieuwer?”
Stefan:he yawned as he shuffled slowly to the wolves,
Stefan:the candlelight reflecting off his dark eyes.
Stefan:“Werner, get this wolf away from me immediately!”
Stefan:grumbled Stefan, glaring at Detlev,
Stefan:“Fetch a horse trap and two horses and take him
Stefan:away!” “I thought Mister Milivoj would be spending the night at the guest’s room,”
Stefan:said Werner calmly.
Stefan:“There’s been an unexpected
Stefan:change of plans,” muttered the count. Detlev threw a questioning stare at Stefan,
Stefan:then the terrier, who raised a bushy eyebrow in mild surprise.
Stefan:For some seconds the only sounds in the room were the heavy, angry breathing of Stefan
Stefan:and the howling wind.
Stefan:Werner eventually said gently in his cracked voice:
Stefan:“My Count, I’m afraid the storm will make that
Stefan:impossible.” A short pause.
Stefan:Stefan lowered his gaze,
Stefan:slight shame appearing in his eyes when he realized how emotional and irrational he had been.
Stefan:“It is necessary for Mister Milivoj to spend the night with us.”
Stefan:A long sigh from Stefan,
Stefan:then a small nod.
Stefan:“I understand.” His voice had softened, but his anger still simmered just out of sight.
Stefan:“Nonetheless, he will be sent away immediately after dawn.
Stefan:Tell the others to wake me up
Stefan:after he’s gone.” The terrier nodded.
Stefan:“Of course.” “I will sleep in the servant’s quarters,”
Stefan:said Detlev, to the surprise of Stefan and Werner.
Stefan:“It is... better for everyone.”
Stefan:“Are you sure, Mister Milivoj?”
Stefan:asked Werner. Detlev nodded.
Stefan:Stefan merely looked at the tan wolf and shrugged,
Stefan:fighting the yearning for company that began to flower through his anger.
Stefan:“Then it is settled.”
Stefan:Detlev had mostly returned to his cool and rational façade.
Stefan:“You can sleep in the guest’s room Werner.
Stefan:I won’t be using it anyways.”
Stefan:Werner looked at the accountant with something resembling fear.
Stefan:“I... don’t know about that, Mister Milivoj.”
Stefan:“I insist.” Detlev marched between the count and terrier,
Stefan:then went into the servant’s quarters without a word of protest.
Stefan:He couldn’t care less about any class issues at the moment;
Stefan:he wanted to be as far away from Stefan as possible.
Stefan:Unsure what to do,
Stefan:Werner looked at his master.
Stefan:The count turned his indifferent eyes away from him and muttered,
Stefan:“Go with him.” “Yes, Count Dieuwer.”
Stefan:Werner followed Detlev into the unglamorous quarters.
Stefan:Stefan was alone.
Stefan:The count slowly turned back to the fireplace, where nothing more than a few starving flames remained.
Stefan:He sat down on his chair with a long sigh,
Stefan:reached out for Detlev’s remaining brandy and chucked down the expensive liquor like water.
Stefan:Leaning deeper in his chair, still holding the glass,
Stefan:he admired the dying fire until nothing more than ashes and embers remained.
Stefan:His black body melted in the darkness of the room,
Stefan:and with the cold
Stefan:and the howling wind as companions,
Stefan:he let his tears drip freely
Stefan:into the empty glass.
Stefan:This was “Brandy and Fire”
Stefan:by Driftwood, read for you by Dralen,
Stefan:the Dapper Dragonfox.. You can
Stefan:find more stories on the web
Stefan:at thevoice.dog,
Stefan:or find the show wherever you get
Stefan:your podcasts. Happy Pride,
Stefan:and Thank you for listening
Stefan:to The Voice of Dog.
