The blazing hot desert sun beat down on me as I trekked through the dry and dusty landscape. I had no idea how I got there or where I was going but I felt like I needed to keep moving in search of food and water. 

In the distance, I could see what appeared to be a campsite with a tent sprung up. A mirage, perhaps? But what if it wasn't? I tried to run in the direction of the tent but I quickly realized how exhausted I was. Everything faded to black as I collapsed on the hot desert sand. 

As my eyes opened, I noticed that there was a figure standing over me. Said figure was that of a 5 foot 8 anthropomorphic coyote wearing an open, sleeveless black leather vest, a dark blue bandanna around his neck and fingerless black leather biker gloves on his paws. He wore no pants or shorts for that matter, much like Mad Dog from Talespin or Top Cat. The coyote's snout was long and pointed with two sharp fangs pointing out, his eyes were a striking shade of gold that sparkled with intelligence and his tail was big and bushy.

I watched him for a few seconds, wondering if I was hallucinating before he opened his mouth and spoke in a thick Texan accent, "Ya'll okay? I found ya out in the middle of the desert passed out, so I brought you back to my campsite. You've been out cold for a good 6 hours. Here, drink this." He passed me a canteen which I gladly accepted. 

"Who are you?" I groaned as I rubbed my eyes before taking a chug fro the canteen. 

"Name's Crafty Latrans. Yep, just so happens that's my real name. Says so right on my birth certificate. Betcha never met anyone named Crafty, have ya?" The coyote spoke up.

"Well, for one, I'm pretty sure I've met a Crafty or two in passing at a furry convention and secondly, I had no idea coyotes could talk." I replied, sitting up and shaking his gloved paw. I was oddly calm despite the fact that there was a bipedal, talking animal in front of me.

"What's a furry convention?" Crafty blinked a few times in confusion while tilting his head.

"Basically, animals don't talk in our world but there are people who make cartoons with them in them. There are fans of these cartoons who make up their own animal characters and sometimes dress up as them if they can afford a costume of them." I explained, still trying to register that I was conversing with a talking coyote.

"Is that so?" Crafty let out an amused chuckle, "Cause in my world, all sorts of animals talk and I've never seen an animal like you before. You must've fallen into a parallel universe or something."

"That would explain why I'm talking to a talking animal." I replied, slowly getting to my feet, "Anyway, thanks for saving me. By the way, what brings you out here?"

"I live a life on the road. Just goin' wherever the wind takes me." Crafty replied, "But before I tell ya my story, let's sit next to the campfire and you can tell me yours."

"I guess so." I replied as we walked out of the tent and sat side-by-side on a log in front of a campfire that was surrounded by sand dunes. I looked up, zoning out as I noticed the millions of stars in the pitch black sky.

"Ain't it beautiful?" The coyote broke the silence, "Sure don't get stars like that in the city."

"Not really." I replied shyly as Crafty roasted a sausage over the open campfire with a metal skewer. There was an awkward silence between the two of us before the coyote cleared his throat, "So tell me bout yourself."

"Well, I work stuffing envelopes in a warehouse. I was also born with an autism spectrum disorder so my social skills aren't the best at times. I don't have a girlfriend because I'm an aromantic asexual but I'm fine with cuddling, though. What about you?" I asked, smiling at the coyote. I took a bite of my own sausage and ate it as I listened to the coyote's story. 

"Well, I used to be a bank robbin' outlaw but now I'm just a traveler. Still a wanted fur but now I just wanna live my life in peace." Crafty replied with a hint of sadness in his voice.

I blinked a few times in shock, "Wait. You aren't going to rob me, are you?" Crafty's ears perked up at this remark. 

"Rob you?! R-r-r-ROB You?!" Crafty burst out laughing, "That's a hoot, Kurt. Just cause I was an outlaw doesn't mean that I'm violent."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Even though I was an outlaw, I never drew a gun in my life." Crafty explained, "I was always a pacifist, no need for bloodshed in order to survive so why not use my brains instead? My brother was the exact opposite of me, all action and no thought. He always thought I was too soft for my own good. Even so, he still cared about me deeply."

Crafty's ears wilted as he remembered his brother, "Ya see, my brother and I were an outlaw duo. His name was Rascal Latrans. Rascal loved shooting first and asking questions later whereas I would stay out of sight and sneak into the vault. Ever since our ma died, it was just the two of us against the world. That us, until that one fateful day."

"What happened?" I asked, placing a hand on Crafty's shoulder.

"We did our heist as usual. Things were going just fine until the lawman caught up with us....." Tears glistened on the edge of Crafty's eyelids as he recounted the incident, "All I heard was gunshots. I stayed hidden until the smoke cleared and the townsfolk left, leavin' my brother to bleed out. I held Rascal as he died in my arms. I still remember him coughin' up blood and my tears fallin' on his lifeless body....." The coyote's voice choked as he trailed off. Crafty reached into his vest pocket and pulled out an old timey photograph of his deceased brother. 

I broke eye contact and stared at the ground. There was a long, awkward silence between us when it was suddenly broken by a loud and watery sniffle. In my periphreal vision, I noticed a single large tear roll off Crafty's nose and plop onto Rascal's photograph. The first drop in a rainstorm. He then let out a soft whimper and hugged the picture close to his vest-clad chest. I had no words, all I could do is awkwardly stare at the sand at my feet. 

 A couple of long minutes passed but then a canine whimper caught my attention. I looked over and noticed that Crafty had rivers of warm, salty tears running down his snout as he hung his head in mourning. The tears glimmered in the moonlight as they collected along the rims of his nostrils and dripped off the tip of his nose, leaving damp spots in the the cool desert sand. Sobs shook the coyote's body as I watched his tears drip like a leaky faucet from his snout. 

At this point, I couldn't just sit and watch him cry anymore. Before he had a chance to dry his face, I leaned in close and tenderly licked Crafty's tears from the tip of his nose with my tongue. I savored their salty taste for a few seconds before boldly dragging my tongue along the length of his face starting from his nosetip to the corners of his eyes, licking the rest of his tears from his snout. I wasn't quite sure what sort of dark magic possessed me to perform such a strange and perverse act but I just chalked it up to thirst in my head and surprisingly, I didn't get that much coyote fur on my tongue as I did so.  

Crafty abruptly stopped crying and stared at me with a confused look but in just a few seconds, the look melted away into an adorable yet tearful smile before he broke down yet again. The coyote leaned in close and buried his head into my chest, sobs wracking his body as hot tears waterlogged my shirt. I wrapped my arms around him and cuddled him tightly as he sobbed, stroking the top of his fluffy head with one hand while rubbing his back with my other to help calm him. It was a good 15 minutes before he stopped crying and pulled away from me, staring at me. Crafty's beautiful gold eyes were bloodshot from crying and his long snout was streaked with tear tracks. 

"Sorry bout all that. I just get so emotional and cry like a newborn pup every time I think bout my brother." Crafty said as he knuckled away one last tear that was sneaking down his muzzle with his leather-clad paw. The coyote then took off his bandanna and used it to blow his nose. He sniffled softly and looked at me with puppydog eyes. So adorable. 

"Awww, it's okay Crafty." I replied, giving the tearful coyote another quick hug, "I lost my mother a while back so I've lost family as well."

"Thanks, Kurt. It felt so good to get that all out. Haven't had a cuddle like that in ages. You musta been pretty thirsty to just lick my tears clean offa my snout like that, though. Can't say I blame ya." Crafty hugged me back and gave me a lick on the cheek. I gave Crafty a good scratch behind the ear in response. We then turned our attention to the campfire to notice that it was dying. The coyote gave a weak and sarcastic chuckle, "So much for stayin' warm on a cool desert night. Looks like it's time to hit the hay. All those waterworks really tired me out."

Crafty got up and I followed him back into the tent. He opened a green backpack and pulled out a blanket which he handed to me, "Here, Kurt. I've got a spare blanket for ya, gets pretty cold here at night."

"Thanks again, Crafty." I replied as I took the blanket from his paws, "You know, you're a real hero considering you saved me life and all. If it wasn't for you, I would've died from heatstroke out in the desert."

Crafty smiled warmly at me as a blush spread across his furry face, "Just cause I'm an ex-outlaw ain't mean I don't gotta heart. You're very welcome." He placed a paw on my shoulder and nuzzled my cheek with his long, handsome snout, "So whatcha gonna do in the mornin, Kurt?"

I shrugged, "I dunno. Travel with you, I guess. I don't really know how to get back from a parallel universe so I might as well just make the best of my current situation."

The coyote just gave me a wink in response, "In that case, try not to slow me down." He hung a few lanterns around the tent to work as night lights. 

"Don't worry, I won't." I replied, giving Crafty a quick hug in response. I then sat down on the floor of the tent and spread out the blanket. I noticed that there was not one, but two pillows for my head. I propped my backpack below the two pillows to give me extra head support as I lay on my side. 

I watched Crafty stretch and let out a loud yawn, "G'night, Kurt. See ya in the mornin."

"Good night, Crafty." I replied, closing my eyes as I rested my head on the pillow. I've always dreamed of meeting an anthropomorphic animal and somehow, I fell into a parallel universe and the dream came true. Even if he had been an outlaw, Crafty truly had a big heart and his good looks even made me question my asexuality just a little. Who knows what the future held for me? Crafty was a pretty smart coyote so maybe he could think of a plan to get me back home. In about half an hour, I slowly drifted off to sleep knowing my life would never quite be the same. 

A few hours passed when I was woken up by a whimper. I looked over and noticed that Crafty was twitching in his sleep and softly crying out his brother's name. Getting up from bed, I walked over to him and noticed a couple tears rolling down his muzzle, the drops illuminated by the lantern light. Kneeling down next to him, I gently petted his face and wiped the coyote's tears away with my thumb before wrapping my body around him and snuggling close to him. As I did so, he seemed to calm down and his breathing returned to normal. Poor Crafty. I decided to stay by his side until I eventually fell asleep myself, snuggling close to my warm and fluffy canine savior. The end.