Burgess King, a Little Penguin from Phillips Island, Australia. A cop by trade, he has been working with the Elder Council to try and track down a series of unusual thefts: guardian spirits. He knows it is the Tiger Yakooza behind it but has no idea why they are stealing these ancient tutelary deities.
Burgess woke from his nap as the plane touched down. He lifted the shade on the window only to find a sea of darkness. That’s right. It was winter here in Alaska. Just like his native Australia, the days got shorter in the cool months. Unlike his home, though, Anchorage had days where the sun never shone in the deepest winter- this time of year, in fact. That was why the Elder Council had sent him and not one of the ‘roos or koalas. Not that he, as a Little Penguin, was going to fare much better. His species was not an artic one. But even warm climate penguins could handle cold and constant darkness better than most Australian shifter species.
The flight from Melbourne to Anchorage had been long and boring. Too bad it hadn’t also been unnecessary. The Elder Council of Phillips Island had received word from a spirit bear up here that may or may not offer information into the missing tutelaries, or guardian deities, of Australia and South Africa, though, so this trip was very necessary. By the sounds of it, the Tiger Yakooza slipped up when they brought old Tongson into the fray. No one in their right mind encouraged the Canadian Spirit Bears- they were brilliant and brilliantly good at figuring things out. They also tended to keep to themselves. Burgess grinned. He’d been looking into this for years, unable to figure out what the Yakooza were up to until that phone call from Tongson. He couldn’t wait to find out what the crotchety old spirit had discovered.
Burgess let the plane empty out before prying his six foot four frame out of the tortuously uncomfortable airline seat. He had almost flown in animal form for this very reason. As a penguin, he was only sixteen inches tall, weighting in at just over two pounds. As a human, he was built like an Olympic swimmer with massive shoulders and long limbs. His slate blue hair was almost the exact shade of his animal plumage and tended to stick out in every direction if he didn't keep it very short, and his smallish eyes were the same twinkling black of his bird. He didn’t think himself overly remarkable in looks, though he was aware than most human eyes, both male and female, followed him everywhere he went. He assumed it was because of his large, muscular body and not his slightly avian facial features.
He stopped suddenly at the end of the jet way. A vision of rainbow hued loveliness was shouldering her way past his gate, clearly coming from one of the other gates that was disgorging passengers in sluggish waves.
“My my my,” he said to himself. “How did a tropical flower like that end up in the frozen north?” He felt his cock stir to life at the sight and smell of her. Too bad he had a job to do, or he’d be chasing that little bit of fluff in a hurry. The years of hunting down the Yakooza had made his love life a living hell. And that one looked like the kind to make a male perfectly happy to be strapped down under her kinky little boot.