Cytus, an male orange cat

20 years on this damn station and he’s still around. Clad in creamy orange fur with dark tufts rising from his large ears, Cytus was currently scampering almost fully in the nude down a moderately busy skywalk. Off to the side his eyes rolled over the vast expanse of stars that stretched out before him. On the other side of the ultra thick glass in front of him stretched the endless void of space, wrapping around and fully encompassing the massive super station he called home. A marvel of science and magic fused together, it was still breathtaking at times. He doesn’t look for long before dragging his green eyes away from the endless expanse to continue on his way to his job.

Being of a magical persuasion, and furthermore specialized into the more abjurant magicks, his job was to be one of the many mages going around the station and up keeping the adjutant wards. Whether fending off space debris, failsafes prevent oxygen leaks, or any other of the myriad of purposes abjurants had aboard the station, it was a decently important job.

The small cat continued on his way, his large wizard hat, practically the same size as the nearly 3ft 7 tall cat, denoting his job to those who saw him. It was the only article of clothing he wore, his compact package exposed to the open air and his long tail snaking around behind him. A variety of furs and other species moved around him. A synth sat strapped into a charging station off to the side, visor off showing them to be in an inactive state. Looking towards some particularly loud moans, he saw a human getting fucked and likely impregnated by a satyr with massive nuts, looming over the poor guy as his belly was stretched by a mix of cock and cum. Some unknown species in full hard-suit passed by, seemingly coming from or heading to some sort of routine space walk.

He almost bumped into a large wolf passing by him, two hooves disappearing into his mouth and a pair of snapped off antlers in his hands. Cyrus couldn’t help but blush slightly, and let out a breath as he reminded himself he had to be a bit more careful. Wearing nothing but his hat, the cat left his genitals exposed to the open air as did most on the station, and being inside he was very much a target for the larger preds and doms that roamed around. If he didn’t want casually grabbed up as a pre or post work meal, or pumped full of another litter of children, he had to keep on his toes to make sure he got his work done. Though, getting another litter would leave him safer to do his job for a few months.

Walking with enough confidence could make many leave you alone, since those who looked busy often were, but that alone wasn’t foolproof protection. This station was practically known for its free-use, free-vore policies. It had reformers should people choose to use it, but thanks in part to the constant sex, it didn’t worry too much about the rate of which prey tended not to reach them.