FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Dewclaw, a bustling center of commercial enterprises both legal and not so much. To most, it offered a place to find something fantastic and perhaps even beyond the imagination. Maybe some wanted to find something magic or cursed, maybe someone was looking for something a bit out of this world, either way, Dewclaw could provide. No one seemed to care about the crime, but then again, it was just the way of the land here. It was peaceful enough, if not shady for other reasons. What a place. An Aurorean Fox clad in red fur with black paws walked among the crowd wandering the great marketplace with his purple eyes keen on darting from place to place in search of something. His poncho marked him as a merchant, but he didn't have anything to sell, at least, not today. Artemis or Arti for short had come to Dewclaw in search of a prize he had seen on his compact, a prize more mundane than most would believe and yet still just as dangerous. Arti wasn't here for the marketplace stalls, the underground kiosks with goods from questionable places, but here for the war. He'd only seen them on his compact and heard rumors of them, the wars, the non-lethal battles that took place between folk called Turf Tigers. Battles that leveled the landscape over sometimes extremely mundane things all recorded for whoever was interested to see and they all took place right here in Dewclaw. Arti had found himself fixated on those battles and fixated on one particular combatant with a sort of style and grace he couldn't ignore more so than his favorite detective shows. That one Turf Tiger with a cool exterior and a fiery battle style that he wanted to meet, that he needed to see for himself face to face to acquire the prize he desired. Now, he just needed to track them down which shouldn't be hard, after all, Arti was as masterful a huntsman as he was a salesman.

Now, some days back at home he didn't sell as much as he wanted and he felt that perhaps his salesmanship could use some work, but it seemed today that if his hunting had been as good as his salesmanship, that he'd be a very poor merchant indeed. He had been meandering about with the blistering sun at his side searching high and low and around for any Turf Tigers at all, including the one he desired to speak to the most. Sure, he had a keen ear and had heard plenty of talk about the Turf Tigers and where they might be, but perhaps it was time to admit, his sense of direction was awful.

Twisting and turning alleyways led him to places he didn't quite expect to be, corridors made of people flocking around stalls and in the streets made for strange navigation in this place he had never been before. He had his compact to help, why, if he didn't have his compact then perhaps he would have been lost entirely in Dewclaw, but more than being lost, he was feeling rather parched. A break was all he needed, and so, he found himself a little kiosk selling some fruity looking drinks by a multiple armed individual with an insectoid look to them. From a pack beneath his poncho, he pulled out some coin and set it down on the kiosk to order himself a drink, hopping up to sit on one of the many bar stools that surrounded the kiosk. When his drink came, he took in the scent of cool bitter and sweet berries and practically felt himself melt. Arti had been walking around all day in that sun and gosh how he hated that sun. He was a creature born and raised in the north where snow clinging to his fur was a good thing and it felt right. Any sort of heat just didn't sit well with him. The poncho had some enchantments to help him with the heat, but they weren't enough to completely block it out and definitely not enough to block out the heat from the stones beating at his poor feet from walking so much. Well, that didn't matter so much.

At the moment, while sipping thoughtfully from his cup, he had to think of how he was going to track down that Turf Tiger. Dewclaw was a practical battleground playground for them, and yet he couldn't spot a single one in the crowd, at least, none that he had seen from the videos on his compact. Maybe he could actually stop to ask around where the nearest one was, but he felt like it might be a little strange or more than just a little rude to do that, or perhaps it would be the simplest solution. Literally, he should have tried that first. He even had the name of the particular Turf Tiger he was looking for. Really, thinking about it, it probably wasn't even that odd for people to ask about the Turf Tigers since they were so popular here and about. When he looked up the insectoid drink salesman was addressing him.

"So, foxy. You enjoyin' tha' drink? You looked like you were 'bout to pass right on out and hell I couldn't stand to see somethin' like that happen at all!"

Arti blinked and looked about before realizing that the red-eyed manticore was referring to them, "Ah. The drink? Well...I don't even think I've had something this tasty even back at home and I definitely needed it after walking all day in this sun. I must look like I'm from Auroria if people can tell when I'm about to pass out just from looking at me."

The manticore giggled and flicked a hand at him, "You sure 'nuff do, but then again, everyone is pretty foreign when they come 'round here. What you looking for anyway?"

Arti thought this was the perfect opportunity to make his desire known, although, he felt just a little bashful from the tone and the mannerisms of the kindly manticore, "Oh, I'm just looking for a particular Turf Tiger, you see, I'm curious about something and well, I just saw them on my compact and I'd really like to meet them. A ah, Turf Tiger by the name of Charthur."

The manticore tilted their head and gave a big smile before bringing sharp thumb digits up to point in a direction. Arti's eyes followed until he was looking at the object of his search sitting right next to him sucking on a straw steeped in a drink of cool blue. There the Turf Tiger sat with icy blue eyes looking off in the opposite direction wearing a black and white checkered jacket with a mantle and a cap resting on their head of the same coloration. Her palm tipped tail occasionally flicked as she watched folk pass by with one or two waving at her to which she would simply smile and bring a paw up to return the action politely. He couldn't believe it. She was right there. She was sitting right there next to him the whole time and in fact, the simplest solution had indeed been the easiest. Not only that, but he was certain now that perhaps he was going blind not to see this.

Unable to contain his excitement, he blurted quickly, "Greetings! Charthur, hello, I've seen your battles countless times and I have to say that I am happy to see you here and I have something to ask."

With a leap befitting a startled house pet of sorts, Charthur sputtered and took her mouth from the straw she had been drinking from and turned with wide eyes to look at the fox while trying to recover from her near-choking. When she could finally speak she took a deep breath and took a good look at Arti, looking him up and down, staring into his determine purple gaze before she finally said something while taking a breath to compose herself, "You've caught me unaware, but if it is a sparring match you seek, then know you'll need more than a daring stare."

Arti was taken back a bit for a moment. She assumed that he was here for a sparring match? Were all Turf Tigers so into violence that they immediately assumed anyone approaching them desired a bout? Well, he decided to correct that immediately with frantic waves of his paws in a defensive posture, "N-no not at all! I'm not here for a battle, in fact, I'm just here for well, your hat."

Had he said something strange? Odd even? Charthur's facial expression shifted into various flavors of confusion as she finally came with her own response, "My hat? What a strange request, surely you've come here up to bat?"

Arti scratched the back of his head. Again with the battle talk, and again with the rhymes, though, he had to admit the poetic speech was kind of neat, "Um, no. Really I'm just here to purchase your hat is all, nothing more, nothing less. I admire your style and grace in battle and I think that your hat would make the perfect addition to my collection."

Charthur put a claw beneath her hat and scratched as she looked the stranger up and down. Perhaps she was giving serious thought to his offer, or perhaps she just thought he was weird. His intense gaze never left and he didn't realize he was leaning in so close either. He was simply an excitable fellow and well, that didn't seem to sit well with Charthur. She turned about in her seat and took her drink before hopping off of the stool. Arti blinked and watched as she stared at the ground and began to walk off with her palm-tipped tail flicking from side to side in a rather annoyed fashion. Arti leaned back in his seat before calling out with paw raised, "W-wait! I just...I just wanted to purchase your hat."

The manticore, who had been watching the whole ordeal, chimed in with a giggle, "Not too smooth are ya? Figured a fella like you might be better with things like that, but eesh."

Arti turned with his ears drawn back and sighed, "Well, here I thought I was better with things like that and yet here I am."

The manticore, not realizing what Arti had meant continued the conversation with some sympathy for the mercantile fox, "Oh c'mon now. I'm sure y'can do better than that. All y'gotta do is be a bit more clear 'bout you want. Bit more oomph in your speech and a lil less imposin'. Just try again!"

Arti tilted his head while looking up at the manticore, "You really think so?"

The manticore gave his cheeks a soft touch, the kind of gentle touch that felt almost motherly to Arti. Her voice came out cheery despite the frown still stuck on Arti's mug, "Sure 'nuff! You're a cute one y'know? You've got the looks for it, so all you need to do is go for it."

Arti's ears perked and a smile touched his features as he straightened up on his seat, "Yeah...Perhaps you're right! I should just learn to use my words a bit better. Maybe then I can actually get what I want without scaring her off. You're absolutely right! Thank you! And thank you for the drink again."

He set down a few extra coins and grabbed his drink before hopping off the stool and heading off to find Charthur. He wouldn't be so easily shaken off of his goal.

The manticore blinked and took up the coin before sighing, "Maybe I need a lil practice flirtin' too. Figured f'sure that boy woulda caught my drift and instead gone for me f'sure. Ah well, hopefully, Charthur won't beat him senseless for bein' such a cheeky bother. If he does get beaten up though, maybe he'll come back around for a visit hah!"

Arti rode astride a new wave of confidence with a beaming grin and ears perked up high. That manticore had said exactly what he needed to hear. He was in high spirits now and didn't even mind the fact that he had about another hour long search before figuring out where he was going. He had sauntered off without so much of a guess as to where Charthur had gone, but when he had calmed down he figured that he should stick to doing things the simple way. When inquired about normally, most people were willing to say that Charthur lived nearby and was prone to sticking to home during the later portions of the afternoon on days where nothing pressing was happening. It was then that he remembered the training of old, the words of far more experienced merchants that told him that it was important to know how to sell right at the door of your customers and to know how to keep your foot in the door. It was advice he had no idea how to apply to real circumstances, but he figured it wouldn't be so hard. He had years of experience selling behind stalls and desks, how hard could it be to sell and buy something from behind a door? Besides, his offer was good and he had plenty of cash on him.

At her front door, he was prepping himself mentally, rather, thinking about how he was going to make his offer for her hat when he lifted his paw to begin. There was no time like the present and he needed to just get over with. After a few knocks, the door cracked just a fraction open and Charthur's eyes peered through just in time to see Arti. She shut the door hard...right on Arti's foot. He wanted to scream bloody murder at the moment and a single tear fell down his face, but as he did this he said in a perfectly okay voice, "Hello, could I please have a mom--" Another slam on his foot punctuated the statement, but he continued on, "A moment of your time."

Charthur finally ended her awful reign of terror on his poor foot and set aside the door long enough to lean on it while giving him a stare cold enough to freeze him right there. Feeling suddenly very dry of throat, he futzed about with the material of his poncho before finally speaking, "I ah. I dare say. I just. I just really wanted to ask you something the same thing that I asked you before, but I must apologize for startling you before. I didn't mean to, but just uh..." He was fumbling his words again and he couldn't really think of how to make his offer any differently from how it was before.

In the meantime, Charthur sighed and rolled her eyes, "You startled me and gave me a fright, I'll concede to that, but I suppose I can forgive and forget to hear your desperate plight."

Arti relaxed a bit at this and thought of how he was going to make his offer. He then thought of something that at the moment seemed like a clever idea, "Startling you was never my strat, you see, instead, I just wanted to buy your hat?" The words came out with a question and slow as if he were having a bit of trouble figuring out how to keep the rhyme to what he thought was at least clean.

When he finished Charthur's eyes were a bit softer and a small smile dotted her face. From somewhere in her home she took a pamphlet and shoved it into his chest. Without waiting for his answer, she said merrily, "I'm impressed with the words you state, just come early, and don't be late."

Arti watched as Charthur stepped back inside and shut the door. He looked down at the pamphlet that had been planted on his chest and he pulled it back to see it was an advertisement for a class of sorts, a poetry class. That wasn't exactly what he wanted, but maybe it would be fun. Maybe later he could get his message across a bit more clearly, ah well, for as long as he was in Dewclaw he might as well get some value out of it.