FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The cool, crisp mountain air flows out from the treed cliffside, disturbing the leaves' peaceful rest, before whistling down the side of the cliff into the misty forest below. The cliffs, maroon in the setting sun, drop nearly vertically from the lip until the base, hidden by the mist and by the forest foliage. From the cliff to the horizon is covered with trees, the flat landscape disguised by rolling hills of limbs and leaves. Ivy crawls up the side of the cliff, while creepers crawl along the ground and vines hang from branches above. The sky brags a vibrant plethora of colors, shining with a soaring pink and a brilliant purple as red, orange, and yellow add a dash of variety to the scene.

It is, I believe, the most scenic sunset I have ever seen since discovering these cliffs. My tail curls around my waist as the wind blows from behind me, pushing my feathery wings forward slightly, curling them forward just a few inches. I stroke my tail softly as I watch the remaining rays of sun disappear behind the horizon, vanishing with a cold sigh of defeat, once again bested by the onset of night. I remain on the cliff for a few moments longer, long enough to see the first stars appear in the sky, suddenly twinkling into existence as though they had simply forgotten how to shine.

Before long, though, I tire of the inaction, the itch to move finally winning out over the beauty of the scenery. So I stand, my toes splaying and gripping over the edge of the cliff as I spread my wings. For a short moment, I battle the wind that tries to push me over. Then I let myself tip over, tilting off the edge of the cliff and falling headfirst toward the ground. My wings are still open but are angled to not catch the air. The wind on my tail pushes me faster and faster toward the sharp branches below, and beneath them the hard ground. I watch the trees race faster and faster toward me, limbs outstretched, appearing hungry for blood. The wind whistles in my ears as I watch the misty forest rush toward me. Then I quickly adjust the angle of my wings, turning my freefall into a gentle swoop that levels me out inside the valleys created by the tops of trees.

Flying is one of the most exhilarating sports, but also one of the most dangerous--more dangerous, even, than something like speed skating, where one bad fall can cause them to bleed to death. In flying, we risk our lives every time we take off. One powerful downdraft, clipping a wing just slightly on an obstacle, or even just having the sun in our eyes can lead to a severe, if not fatal, crash. I dance along the insides of the valleys of the trees, tilting my body and making slight adjustments with my tail to keep myself on course.

There is an easy tailwind helping me along as I speed through the tumbling plain of the foliage, speeding my progress considerably as I use the dying light of the sun to set the direction home. However, the night quickly turns cold and dark around me, and the whistling wind takes on an eerie quality. I start to flap, speeding up my progress--I've never been one who enjoys the dark. In fact, it's almost always scared me to death, thanks to a relatively...rough childhood, so to speak. And so instead of enjoying the dim sparkle of the stars above me, I fly home as fast as I can, wings thumping the air, trying to escape the suffocating darkness.

I shiver softly as the cold, dry air penetrates my thick fur, splitting and flowing around my body, ruffling my tail as it fine tunes my steering. It's typical of Colorado, and although cold doesn't bother me, I much prefer warmth. I glance up and see the cold, hard eye of the full moon staring back at me, blood red with the glow of earth. Wolf moon, I think, just as I hear the first howl. Damn it, they're going to start a howl. Even for those of us who are furs, it's difficult for a wolf to resist a howl. Already, I feel the urge to howl in reply, to add my voice to the growing mix--but at this speed, giving in would be deadly. I clamp my muzzle shut with a paw as I move my wings faster, lifting myself above the tops of the trees and angling straight for the lights of the city in the distance.

Below you! a voice screams inside my head, alerting me to a feral wolf about to howl right below me. I flatten my ears, just in time to dampen out the sound, reducing it to a distant cry. I wait until it finishes to relax my ears.

"Thanks," I mutter around my paw. "No need to scare me, though, Day."

I do what I can. Day is...the best way to describe him is an alternate personality. Without going into too much detail right now, he is a spirit that attached itself to my body a while ago. All of that will be explained later, but for now I must get home.

A wry smile touches my face as the city lights grow closer and the howling wolves fade behind me. That was only the second time I've had to do that, and I nearly died both times. I let my pace slow slightly once I'm far out of hearing range, but not much--there's still the suffocating blackness surrounding me. Eventually, though, the sounds of nature fade, replaced by the nighttime city sounds, and before long I'm surrounded with the glow of streetlamps and room lights. I fly slower now, breathing fast due to the exertion as I glide between the buildings toward my apartment.

After a few moments, the window, still open from when I left, comes into view and I lift myself up a few feet in the air. A few yards away, I do a sharp curve to a steeper angle, then flip myself hindpaws-first and fold my wings and arms close to my body. Without the lift from my wings, I start to fall downward, but my forward momentum continues, and the two combined send me straight through my window. I land lightly on my hindpaws but roll to dispel the momentum and ease the stress on my knees--I've already fractured my femur when landing, I don't need to hurt my body any more doing something I'm meant to do.

I tug at my tight tee, panting softly as the warm air comes crashing into me. After completing the roll I flop backwards and lay on my back, panting, for a few moments. Then I clamber to my feet and search for the thermostat--I just moved in here a few days ago, give me a break--to turn the temperature as far down as I can without turning on the air conditioning. Turns out to be sixty, once I find it in the little entryway. Then I stumble over to the window, still shaky from my frantic flight, and slide the glass closed.

I told you that you should have gone home earlier.

"Oh, shut up, Day," I grumble. "I'm fine, I don't even go to school anymore."

Which is also a bad idea.

"For God's sake." The bedroom door closes behind me, slamming a little louder than I had intended for it to. "I'm already bringing in thirty grand a year, calm down."

On an unstable career.

"Shut up!" I growl, a little louder than I had intended again. "I get that it's a little bit unstable, but people are less fickle than you think, especially when you give them good content."

Half-assed songs and poor editing is not good content.

"Point taken. But you know as well as I have that the past few videos and songs have been bad because of my life situation."

That is true.

"Thank you," I say, sighing in frustration. "Hopefully I can start pushing out better stuff now that I'm settled."

Are you sure you don't want me to help?

"Yes, Day, I am sure, because I know that if I give you control, even for a split second, you'll fuck something up."

I won't, I promise.

I snort. "You're a spirit. Of course you will."

Day recedes into the back of my mind with a sour sigh. He'll be fine, though; we might as well be brothers, with how we bicker sometimes--and with how we get along others.

I plod around my apartment to my kitchen, rubbing my left eye before starting to heat up leftovers from a dinner I'd made last night. The two minutes seems to pass in the blink of an eye and I quickly nab it out of the microwave. The container burns my fingers as I pull it out of the microwave, and I quickly set it down on the counter with a hiss, wincing and suckling on my fingertips to ease the pain. After a few seconds, I snap a leaf from the aloe plant nearby and dribble some of the liquid onto my fingertips, sighing in relief as the pain fades. I let the aloe rest for a few moments on my fingers, then wash it off and touch the container again, testing for heat before picking it up and carrying it over to the table, grabbing myself some silverware to eat with.

It's some sort of sweet potato casserole that I'd made a day or two ago for myself, from a recipe that my mother had sent me a few days ago. I had specifically asked her for it because I really like sweet potato--real sweet potato, not yams--and because she had made it once before, and I enjoyed it then. So, I had asked her for it a week ago and bought the ingredients for it, then had made it. Plus, the meal serves four, so I have a decent amount of leftovers--money saver, which is always a good idea in my situation.

The container is emptied much faster than I would've liked, so I reluctantly stand and carry the it to the sink. After a moment, I decide to just wash it right now and get it over with. I turn the sink on and hold the container under the water. It splashes up onto my pawpad, and I hiss and drop the container for the second time as it burns me. I gingerly set the container up and fill it with warm water, letting it soak in the heat as I grab another leaf of aloe and dribble the liquid over the painful areas.

I slump over to rest on the couch as I give my stomach time to settle. The burning in my paws does not cease, and worse the pain in my fingertips is starting to return. "Day, what's wrong?

What do you mean? He sounds upset. I suppose I hurt him a little bit too much earlier.

"Day..." I take a deep breath, then rest my paws on my legs. "Forgive me. I know that I hurt you, and I apologize for that. I did not intend to."

You are forgiven, Colton, as you always are._He always says that it's alright, but his voice sounds much warmer now that I've begged forgiveness. _Now. What do you mean about what's wrong?

"Why is the pain not fading? Considering aloe has always worked before, I'm assuming that this is something spirit related," I explain. "Seeing as how I'm still new in this area, do you have any ideas?"

To be completely honest, I have no idea. Day goes silent for a few moments, then speaks up again. It might be, but I think it's unlikely. It's possible that your spirit is degrading from the...disuse? Is that the right word? Or maybe I didn't do as good of a job at healing it? I don't know right now, Colton. We're going to have to see what happens, it might just be the aloe from earlier wearing off.

"Interesting...well, thank you anyways." I smile softly. "I really do enjoy my time with you, Day. You know that, right?"

Colton, I am literally a part of you. Of course I know. The humor in his voice is unmistakable, though, and I relax.

My eyes automatically squeeze shut, starting to hurt from being dry. "Ugh, I really need to sleep."

Then go to bed.

"I don't want to, I haven't played any games yet," I groan.

Yeah, for a good cause. You're lucky you were able to fly so far, it's been two weeks since you last flew.

I chuckle. "Well, point taken, mate. No need to be so passive aggressive."

Alright. But seriously, Colton, you need to get more exercise. I feel his amusement curl my lips--happens sometimes when two spirits share a body.

"I will. But for now it's time for me to get some sleep." I absently start sucking on two of my fingertips, which helps ease the pain a small bit. I stay on the couch for a moment longer, suckling on my fingers, before heaving myself off the couch and trudging over to the bathroom. I brush my teeth sloppily, ensuring to keep myself over the sink so the spillage goes down the drain and not onto the floor.

Colton, take care of yourself. Day again, looking out for me. I smile wryly around the toothbrush and brush well for another few minutes.

Once finished with that, I take a deep breath, groan, and hobble over into my bedroom. My wings are stiff and sore as I flop into bed, letting them flutter down around me. Sleep overwhelms me almost as soon as my eyes close, and my sleep is dreamless.

I wake up early the next morning, tangled in my sheets and breaking out in a cold sweat. I know not what I dreamt of, but it was quite obviously something bad. My left arm catches suddenly on something, or something catches it, and I struggle furiously for a moment, before realizing that it's just the bedsheets wrapped around me. I can tell my eyes are wide and panicked, as they always are after a night terror like that. My heart is hammering in my chest, and my breath heavy and rapid. The sweat soaks through my fur into the bedsheets as my tail flips behind me in agitation.

Colton, it's okay...there's nobody here. I jump as Day's presence fills my mind.

"Wh--what was the dream?" I ask, not wanting to know but knowing I need to.

It's as if he takes a deep breath before responding. Your apartment was infiltrated by a...I don't know who it was. Perhaps an old friend? Anyways, she came in with a knife. You had already been paralyzed, or tied down to the bed, by someone else, who had obviously been in before, because your closet was open and in complete disarray, as was your dresser and your desk. She slowly approached the bed and taunted you in a high and haughty voice, then raised the knife. And that's when you woke up.

My heart rate, which had calmed slightly during the telling of the story, spikes back up, and I quickly stand and start pacing restlessly. "What was her species?"

If memory serves, she was a kangaroo. Not thin, but not fat either.

"Colouring?" I push for information as I start pacing faster, wings fluttering and tail flipping, ignoring the stiffness in both.

Hard to tell, the entire dream had a deep beige tint.

"Come on, give me something."

He hesitates a moment. It looked like she was green and purple.

"Shit. What would cause her..." My heart rate spikes even higher suddenly, and my vision flickers. I stop pacing and lean against the wall, breathing heavily as I wait to recover.

Colton, sit down. I listen and quickly head over to the bed, sitting down and letting my blood flow regulate. The blood rushing in my ears, which I hadn't noticed before, slows to a quiet ringing. Eventually I can breathe again, and I start to relax.

A calming blanket of calm covers my mind and body, further relaxing me, and I smile. "Thank you, Day."

Of course. Now, what shall we do today?

"Well, check the time first." I lean over and slap my clock, waking up the display. It reads 0440--four forty in the morning. "Jeez. I woke up early."

Can you get back to bed?

"Not after that, no." I dangle my legs over the side of the bed for a moment before standing up. "Breakfast first would be a good idea."

I feel Day slide part of his spirit out of my body. I cup my paw under the bit of spirit that floats out as a small material body forms around it. He takes the form of a small black dragon. _So. Shall we?_He does this often when he wants a bit of freedom. Sometimes he will detach his full spirit from my body and create a fully formed fur--typically a dragon--but that's rare.

"Sure thing." I lift him to my shoulder, and he clings on as I make my way over to the kitchen. The small claws dig slightly into my shoulder as he sits down in the crook of my neck, resting there as I make my way around the kitchen and prepare a fast breakfast. Just as I sit down to eat it, there's a knock at my door. I freeze halfway into sitting down, glancing over my shoulder at the door. It's just the mail, though. I watch it, letter-by-letter, slide under the door into my room. After all of the mail is through the door, I stand and go get it, shuffling briefly through it on the way back to my chair. One catches my eye, though, as I sit down: it's a notice from my landlord, the new one. Ownership changed paws yesterday, and the new guy is already proving to be much stricter than the previous.

"What is that?" Day asks into my ear, which flicks slightly from the proximity of his voice.

"A notice from the landlord," I grumble. "Probably an eviction notice."

"Because the other guy let you camp here without rent for a month, so you could find a place."

"Yep." I tear open the letter. "And the new guy found out already."

"Why do you think he wouldn't?"

"I was hoping it'd take him a bit longer."

"Understandable." Day flutters down from my shoulder onto the table as I spread the letter out. Just as I thought, it was an eviction notice, giving me until--

"Tonight!" I exclaim.

"Talk about promptness." Day stamps his little hindpaw, as frustrated as I am.

"The least he could have done was given me until the end of the week, but no, he had to have me out as soon as possible," I growl. "Well, I'd better eat, then get packing--and planning."

"Where are you going to go?" Day glances up at me curiously.

I take a bite of food and swallow it before responding. "A friend of mine offered to let me stay with him after I turned seventeen. I would bet he'd be more than willing to shelter me now, considering I'm being evicted, again."

"Well, that's good. I'll let you get to eating," he says, hopping back up onto my shoulder.

My food quickly disappears down my gullet, and I stand from the table, leaving the dishes there for the cleaning crew to get. After maybe ten minutes in my room, I've made it into a disaster zone, picking out stuff that I'll need and leaving the things that I won't. I manage to mostly pack up in about thirty minutes, managing to stuff everything I'll need into a large backpack that'll fit under an airliner seat. I will have to carry my laptop, but I have a case for that as well that can join the bag under the seat, if need be. However, I take this time to pop the lid and log in, quickly navigating to the chat app I always use and sending a quick hello.

He responds nearly instantly with a call, and I quickly pick up. "Why so quick?" I ask, with a tinge of amusement. "Avoiding someone?"

"In a way," he responds. "More so that I sensed this was urgent. Why else would you ask for me to call right off the bat?"

"Point taken."

"So, why _did_you ask for a call right off the bat?"

"I'm getting evicted. Today." I growl in frustration. "You know how I told you that the landlord changed a few days ago?"

"Yeah?"

"He's much stricter than the last guy, found out I got off without a contract, and basically said that if I continue to live here without paying rent, at least, I will be kicked out by tonight."

"Well, that sucks." He hesitates a moment. "What's your plan now?"

I take a deep breath. "That's where you come in...are your doors still open?"

"They always are, Colton. If you need to come over here, feel free. I can be at the airport as soon as this afternoon if need be."

"No, no, it won't be that soon. I doubt I'm going to be able to find a flight with a free seat that leaves before eight or something. We'll see once I get to the airport, though."

"Yeah, we will." He takes a deep breath, then pushes it out forcefully. "Make sure to let me know about when you'll be arriving."

"Of course," I reply. "Thanks, Callisto...it means a lot."

"Don't mention it. You're such a good friend, of course I'll be here for you when you need me," he says reassuringly.

"Still, though, what you're doing for me deserves some thanks," I protest, chuckling a bit.

"Well...thanks for your thanks?" We share a laugh. Then he says, "You should probably get going to the airport, then."

"Yeah, probably. I'll see you later," I add.

"See you later. Be safe."

"As safe as I can be." We laugh again. "Bye."

"Bye." He hangs up first.

I shut down the application, then the laptop and stow it away in its carrying case. "Well, I guess I could fly there. But I don't think my wings are that strong right now, and I would rather not go through the trouble of having to contact Flight Control myself."

That's probably a good idea, Day says, having melded back into his spirit.

"So. Taxi time." I dial up and call a taxi on my way down to the lobby, dropping off my keycard at the front desk before heading out to the street.

It's only a few moments before the cab pulls up and I hop in. "Where to?" the cabbie asks. He looks like a feline, but I can't be sure what species.

"Airport."

"Aren't you a little young to...ah..." He mumbles off into oblivion.

"Early emancipation," I reply. "Or might as well have been. Disownment."

"Ah." He frowns a moment. "The airport, right?"

"Yeah." I nod and hand him a wad of cash. "Keep the change, just get me there."

"Alright then." He pulls out onto the street and heads off.

The drive is short--I had intentionally chosen an apartment close to the airport in case something like this happened--and before I know it I'm in the terminal. I angle for the Unattended Minors counter, since I'm still technically not an adult, and wait patiently in line--more minors flying now than ever, apparently.

Finally, I reach the front of the line, and then the counter. "What can I do for you sweetie?" the lady asks. She's a blue-and-black striped fox.

"I need the next available flight to Charlotte, North Carolina," I reply instantly.

"Doing some serious traveling, are we?" she asks, tapping away at her computer.

"More like I just got evicted from my apartment and I'm going to live with a friend," I correct.

"Oh?"

"Long story," I say, cutting off the inevitable question.

"Ah! Here's something," she exclaims, likely to cover up her obvious intent to ask that question. "Last seat available, too. It leaves at four thirty this afternoon and arrives at ten forty-seven local time."

"I'll take that one," I reply. If I must, I'll drive Callisto home.

"Alright, that'll be...two hundred thirty-four dollars." I make a face but hand over my card. She swipes it once, then twice. "Sorry. It took an extra swipe to read it," she explains as she hands it back to me. I slip it into my pocket and take the boarding pass. "Have a nice flight!"

"Thanks!" I bite my tongue before I can add the habitual 'you too'. The plane is in Concourse A, so I just decide to take the sky bridge over. The security there is shorter usually, anyways, which is a nice plus. I don't even see a line until I almost reach the actual checkpoint, so it doesn't fail expectations.

"Next!" A moment of thought puts me in the front of the line, and the security officer--a big, burly husky who I believe is meant to look intimidating.

"Hello, sir," I say politely as I hand him my boarding pass.

"Hey there," he replies, scanning my pass as if he hadn't heard me. "Name?"

"Colton Steele," I reply.

"Age?"

"Sixteen."

"Little young, eh?" he asks, eyeing me up and down.

"Yessir," I reply. "Was disowned."

"Well, I hope you have a good flight, Mr. Steele," he says, after a moment.

"I hope your day here is at least alright," I respond. "I know how tedious it can be working behind that desk."

He affords me a brief smile before calling up the next fur. I turn to the screening machines, smiling, glad that I could make someone smile today. I drop my backpack on the rollers, then grab two bins and quickly dump out my computer and charger into one, placing the bag in the other--that bag has gotten stuck in the machine before. Then I approach the metal detector and wait to be motioned through. I am, as always, clean, and quickly hurry off to grab my bag and computer supplies, aware of how many furs would love to steal one or both of those.

The gate is on the opposite side of the concourse from my position, but my flight is still hours from boarding--it's only twelve-fifty. There's plenty of restaurants along the concourse as well, so I decide to stop for a short lunch before I head all the way down to the gate.

I choose one of the nicer sit-down places and pull out my laptop after they get me seated, booting it back up. Finally, a calm moment. This really is my first calm moment since preparing breakfast, and I ensure to savor it, ordering myself a hot tea but refusing the meal, for now. I open up the chat application and fire off a quick message to Callisto. He responds almost instantly, and we keep up a good conversation until my food comes, when my responses become a little delayed. Then he has to go because work is getting busy, so I close up my laptop and stow it away in my bag, with a promise to message him when I'm boarding. Then I finish my meal and hang out around the restaurant for a few more teas, idly watching the passerby and televisions as I try to pass some time.

After about forty-five minutes of stalling, I stand and grab my bag, thanking the waiter who served me and the hostess on my way out, and head down to the gate. The cold airport air slowly seeps through my fur as I walk, but the exercise keeps me warm enough to ignore it. My wings do an excited little flutter as I spot the sign, though I'm barely able to make out the numbers due to the lack of my glasses. I find a seat close to the counter--I'm right between flights, there's one coming in about an hour from now, and one just left, so I find a seat easily and settle in for the two-hour wait until I board.

Before I know it, they're announcing that boarding is going to start in ten minutes. I must have fallen asleep. I wake myself up and quickly pull my computer out of my bag, opening up the chat window again and firing off a quick message to Callisto letting him know that we're about to start boarding. I see him typing, and wait to read his message.

Awesome! Can't wait to see you!

I smile to myself and fire off a quick return message with the same excitement, then sign off and close my laptop again, packing up my bag for the final time before boarding and standing, slinging my bag over my shoulder as I wait for my group to be called. It takes a few moments after they actually start the boarding process--I'm the fourth group, second to last--but finally my group is called, and I'm one of the first in line for boarding. I shift my weight from one hindpaw to the other--my legs have a tendency to fall asleep and give out if I have too much weight on one for too long--as the line slowly moves forward. At least three furs had problems with their tickets, which made it longer than it had to be, but eventually I reach the desk, have my pass scanned, and make it to the plane without issues. Thankfully it's not one of those old, dinky two-seats-per-side planes, though there's only a few of those in operation at this point.

I pick a seat--right in the exit row, since nobody chose those--and sit down, sliding my bag under the seat and buckling up before relaxing a bit. Once everybody is boarded, and everybody seated, one of the flight attendants strides up to those of us in the exit rows and goes through the customary checklist for sitting in the exit rows, then walks back down the aisle for the safety demonstration. The demonstrations don't take long, and it isn't more than twenty minutes before we're taxiing to the runway.

My eyes drift shut, as they always do, as the plane waits for clearance before taking off. I must have slept for a brief moment, though, because as soon as the plane starts down the runway, I snap awake. The countryside quickly speeds up as the plane accelerates, then suddenly drops away with the normal gut-wrenching beginning of the climb in altitude. I rest back in my seat and close my eyes again, not having realized before how tired I still am from yesterday's flight. I fall asleep almost instantly.

I wake up to total darkness and look around in surprise. Everybody on the plane is asleep, or at least using their devices at the lowest brightness possible and hiding the glow in their laps. I shift a bit, but I can't get comfortable and open up my laptop, quickly dimming down the brightness so I don't blind anyone who might be looking in that general direction--also known as me. I still get blinded.

Once my eyes are adjusted, I open up the web browser and navigate to the flight tracker page. Only about fifty minutes left. Just then, the quiet announcement to stow away any large electronic devices comes on. I shut my laptop again and slide it back into its case, then put that back under the chair in front of me and sit back again. I don't know why the descent takes so much longer than the ascent--maybe because one way puts more stress on the body of the craft?--but I accept it as fact now. Might be a good question to ask someone who works at an airplane manufacturing company.

One of the books I packed in my bag is calling to me, but I don't want to turn the light on and disturb the furs around me who might be sleeping, so I settle back in my chair and gaze out the window over the wing. I can just barely make out the dim lights of a city off in the distance, fading and growing stronger as wispy clouds pass by. The warning lights blink with an almost soothing pattern as we descend through the rest of the clouds, the lights of the city growing stronger with each passing moment.

It doesn't feel like long before I can make out the lights of the airport, right in front of the plane. That's when I realize that I'd forgotten to tell Callisto that we're on our descent. Crap. I guess he'll get a surprise, then. I had remembered to tell him what airport I was leaving from, and on what airline, so he should know which baggage claim I'd be at. Then I remember that he's never seen an image of me, either...oh, well. A winged wolf shouldn't be that hard to spot, considering we're one of the rarest species in the world. Though spotting him, on the other hand, might be a bit difficult. I know enough about him that I'd be confident about picking him out among a crowd, but I'm not sure how the airport light will affect my vision.

The runway lights start to flash past the window, and I grab the free armrest as the touchdown jolt rocks the plane. I flatten my ears to the dull roar of the airbrakes and the real brakes as I'm thrown forward in my seat, grunting a bit as the plane decelerates to a slow taxi. Some of the cabin lights flicker on, and I blink against the sudden brightness. Several of the furs throughout the plane grumble and complain that their sleep got interrupted, but then the quiet announcement that we have arrived in Charlotte comes over the PA, and many of them brighten up. The majority of them appear to be from Colorado, so my guess would be that most of them are visiting family or friends, as myself.

The taxi ends quickly, and the full lights flicker on, once again to the displeasure of most furs on the plane. My own tail flips in annoyance, but I refrain from making a noise. I lean down and grab my bag and computer, carefully slinging my bag over my shoulder as I stand in the little space between the emergency door and my seat, still hunched over because of the carry-on compartments. My wings cramp a little bit, and I flutter them while I wait to relieve the pain.

"Half-breed." I hear a quiet hiss from some rows back, flicking my ears but ignoring the statement. Then the low voice continues. "Get your contamination off the damn plane."

I glance back, appearing confused, as if I had heard a whisper of my name but no real words. I spot the fur who said it, who appears to be a crossbreed himself: a combination between what looks like a lion and a cheetah. "Are you any better?" I murmur back, knowing he'll hear it.

A low growl ripples from his throat, until the cheetah who appears to be his mother nudges him. I raise my eyebrows in amusement; the kid can't be any older than I am. Then the file of furs in the aisle by my seat start moving, and I push out into the line before I get cut off. Then it's the normal hobbling down the aisle as I try not to bump into fellow passengers or seats.

Once I'm finally off the plane and on the jetway, I'm able to walk freely and move quickly up to the concourse. I wiggle out of the crowd waiting just outside of the door, furs who are both waiting for the following flight or waiting for someone to join them, and finally get some breathing room in the walkway outside of the waiting area.

The vaulting ceiling provides some flying space, and several avians and dragons have taken to flying up there to avoid the masses of furs below. I'm just about to join them when I feel a tugging on my sleeve and turn to find the cheetah woman from before frowning at me. "Was that really necessary?"

I shake my head, amused but also annoyed. "No, not at all. But was it really necessary for him to say that in the first place?" I tilt my head at her son, who's standing to her left with arms crossed and jowls lifted.

"What has you so up-in-arms?" she asks, letting a bit of annoyance creep into her voice.

"Me?" I chuckle. "I don't mean to be rude, ma'am, but I am not up-in-arms. Quite the opposite. But if you must know, I am his age, and enjoy being insulted about as much as he does."

"You're my son's age?" She appears surprised, but I can tell she knew that I was. The next question, however, is genuine. "What brings you out to North Carolina, then?"

"I am coming to live with a friend of mine."

"Why are you not with your parents?"

I frown at her. "Because I was kicked out of my house. I apologize for my rudeness, but this conversation is wearing on me, and I mustn't keep him waiting much longer. Have a nice night." Then I turn and leap into the air, joining the many winged furs who are flying to and fro up there.

The airport even decided to add directional signs up here because furs use it so much. Which is nice, because I didn't glance at where I was going before I had taken off. Looks like baggage claim is behind me, so I turn and start off in that direction. It doesn't take long to reach the skytrain system that connects the terminal and concourses together, and I just barely make it in time to slip onto the train that's headed toward the terminal and baggage claim. I pant softly as I take a seat and hold on for the lurching start toward the next concourse.

After two more stops, the train commands us to get off for terminal, ground transportation, and baggage claim. I chuckle at the robotic female voice as it finishes the stereotypical announcement, then stand and disembark with everyone else. I decide against flying this time, as it would give me away far earlier than I want to be given away, so I follow the masses along the ground floor to the escalator to baggage claim. I make sure I'm right in the middle of the group as we ride the escalator down to the claim, which I believe the captain had said was Claim 3. A few of the furs from my flight make good cover as we head over to the carousel.

I turn my gaze from the carousel to the area around it, searching for the telling sliver-blue hair that he told me to look for. I spot it almost instantly--silver-blue hair topping a caramel-colored body, a few shades brighter on his muzzle, down the front of his neck to, I assume, his chest and stomach. I might not be one to judge, but I wouldn't be ashamed of saying he's extremely handsome. I manage to get to the opposite side of the carousel from him before my little group disperses, and I straighten to my full six-four height, gazing quietly at him over the top of the claim. He still hasn't noticed me.

Then the alarm sounds, and the first bags slide out. More furs start to crowd around the machinery, and I start to make my way around the end toward Callisto. I keep his silver-blue hair in sight above the crowd as I work my way behind him, then melt through the crowd until I'm right next to him. I act completely normal, as if I'm just another traveler searching for his bag.

Ten minutes pass, and furs have started to file out as they grab their bags, when I decide it's time to stop the foolery. "You waiting to get your bag too?" I ask, smiling and glancing at him out of the corner of my eye for his reaction.

"No, I'm waiting for someone." He keeps his eyes focused on the opposite side of the carousel, appearing awkward.

"For crying out loud, Callisto, you know my voice!" I exclaim quietly in amusement.

His gaze flicks to me and his jaw drops open. "C-Colton!"

"The one and only," I say, smiling as I turn to face him fully.

"I don't--you didn't--wha--I'm just going to shut up now," he finally forces out, chuckling.

"It's been ten minutes. You must be really tired for it to go that long."

He nods, and I notice the bags under his eyes. "Yes, I am. I had to literally deny Shi earlier when he asked to talk, so I could come get you."

"You shouldn't've done that!" I protest. "I wouldn't have minded if you were talking to him when I got here. He is, after all, your boyfriend."

"But I couldn't have done that to you," he fires back. "Or him. I don't think he would enjoy knowing that you're going to be living with me for a while until you can get a life started for yourself."

"True," I admit. "But still, he's your boyfriend. He should have first rights. I could have gotten a taxi or something if you had talked with him."

"Again, I wouldn't have done that to you," he says. "Stop arguing."

I smile in amusement but consent. "Fine. Are you parked outside?"

"I am, yes," he answers. "Don't you have a bag?"

"How would I have stood next to you for ten straight minutes if I had a bag?" I answer question with question before answering. "No, I don't. Just what's in this pack and my laptop."

"Alright, then." He beams at me as we make our way out to the car.

He yawns widely and stumbles a bit as we walk out the doors, and I instinctively grab his elbow to steady him. "Are you okay to drive?"

"Probably not," he answers after a moment. "But I'm going to."

"Callisto."

"What?" He glances at me. "It's only right that I drive you back, you just flew out here to me in flight of your family."

"Callisto, screw what's 'right' for just one drive and let me drive you home," I say. "You're obviously not fit to drive, and it still feels like nine o'clock for me."

"Stick shift," he warns.

"That's what I learned on," I reply, holding out a paw. "Keys?"

He finally relents and drops them into my paw. "I'll show you to where we are and put my house in the GPS, but you're on your own from there. I'm going to crash on the drive."

"How far away are you?" I ask.

"An hour and a half."

"Yeah, you should sleep on the way there." He leads me to the car, and I unlock it so we can get in. Once buckled up and settled, he puts his coordinates in the GPS, then hits 'navigate'. "Thanks. Now, get some rest. I drive like a grandma, so you'll have plenty of time to sleep."

"Good to know," he says, chuckling as he leans back in his seat. He starts snoring almost as soon as I begin backing out of the parking space, and a small smile touches my face as I make my way out on to the road and toward his house.

About an hour and forty-five minutes later, I'm pulling into the driveway, and starting to get tired myself. He wakes up as we hit the curb and opens the garage, blinking blearily. "Home already?"

"Almost two hours," I reply quietly, my voice a soft murmur.

"Wow...you do drive like a grandma." We share a chuckle. "Well, I suppose we should get you situated. Where do you want to sleep?"

I frown briefly, handing him the keys before we get out. The doors slam shut, then I speak up. "Wherever is most convenient for you."

"In bed with me?" He blinks again as we step into the dark house, an obvious slouch curving his shoulders.

"Are you sure? I can sleep on the couch," I reply. "I don't mind."

"I do, it's not healthy for your back to sleep on the couch."

"Then I'll sleep on the floor," I counter. "I think it'll be a bit awkward sleeping in the same bed."

"Point taken, but--"

"And think of Shi."

Callisto hesitates for a moment, then slouches again. "Fine, you win. I don't like thinking of you on the floor, though." He makes a face even as he says that. "You are at least going to sleep in the same room, though."

"Fair." I follow his dark form to his bedroom, getting tired enough myself that I don't pay much attention to the rest of the house. After a moment, I say, "I guess...if you really want me to sleep in the bed with you, I will."

He turns and beams at me. "Of course, I really want you to."

"Absolutely no funny business, then," I say sternly.

"Not even cuddling?"

"I don't trust myself yet. Remember, I've never slept in bed with someone other than a relative--not in that way." I allow myself a small smile. "But no, no cuddling yet. Once I can trust myself, then it'll be alright."

"Fine." He pouts a bit before brightening again. "At least you won't be getting back problems because of your stubbornness."

I smile. "At least that." I hesitate for a moment, then stop walking and gaze at his back. "Callisto...thank you for providing me with this."

The caramel wolf turns halfway to me, a small smile gracing his lips. "Of course, Colton," he says. "How could I do anything else?"

"I mean..." I chuckle a bit and eye him.

"Fine, fine," Callisto replies, chuckling as well.

"But seriously. If I hadn't had you to come back to, I would've had to go back to my parents," I say quietly. "And you know how they would have taken that, after basically driving me out."

He steps up to me and rests a paw gently on my shoulder. "Colton, I understand. But I care about you. You're one of my closest friends. How could I not give you shelter while you're on the run?"

"Regardless." I smile again at him. "Thank you."

"Of course." He steps away, removing his paw from my shoulder, and heads toward the bed. "Just put your bags in the corner over there, we'll figure them out in the morning."

"Alright." I drop my bags in the corner of the room, grabbing my sweatpants from it before straightening up. "No peeking!"

"Of course not." I hear his own pants drop to the ground and flush, quickly unbuckling and sliding down my own jeans, quickly stepping out of them and hopping into my sweatpants, hoping he really wasn't peeking. I turn back to him and realize he's wearing nothing except a slightly open robe. Another quick flush covers my cheeks, and I quickly cast my gaze down to the ground. I feel a cold breeze as he strides past me to close the door, and I shiver a bit. "Are you going to get in bed, or...?"

I can tell he sensed my shiver. "Yeah, I will. Not cold, just..."

"The proximity?"

"Yeah."

"Sorry."

"No worries." I flicker my ears in amusement. "What do I always tell you?"

Callisto chuckles. "Don't be sorry."

"Yup." I share the chuckle with him. "There's nothing to be sorry for in the first place, so don't be sorry."

"I won't be," he says. I feel his paw brush my arm as he passes me on his way to the bed, and I shiver again. "Come on, sleep won't come unless you're laying down."

I smile at him and feign flopping onto the floor. He laughs and waves me over. "Fine, fine, I'm on my way." My tail sways slowly from side to side despite myself as I stride over to the bed.

"Would you like to be the first in, or...?" he asks.

"Callisto, it's a bed. There's no 'first place' awards for getting in," I say with a touch of amusement. "Also, no place for chivalry. That's for doors and checks."

"Point taken." He lets out a quiet chuckle as he lifts the sheets and slides under. I chuckle back as I lift the covers to slide under, then hesitate and flush for the third time as I see him cast his robe out from under the bedsheets. "I always sleep with my clothes off, Colton, don't worry. I'll keep my paws to myself."

"For some reason, that doesn't reassure me," I reply, letting out a nervous laugh.

"Colton, I won't do anything," he promises.

After another moment, I relent and slide under the bedsheets, facing him so he doesn't get as many ideas. "Seriously, though, no funny business. At all."

"I swear on my life." He crosses his heart.

I let out a little chuckle. "Well you don't have to promise on that but alright." I yawn. "Nighty, Callisto."

"I have to get up early, so see you in the morning maybe."

"Early work?"

"Of course."

"I'm sorry." I frown. "Kind of sucks, but it happens. Be safe while driving."

"You don't mess up anything around the house." He makes a stern face at me, then breaks down into giggles.

I giggle as well. "I won't, I promise."

"Alright, goodnight Colton," he murmurs.

"Goodnight, Callisto," I reply, but I already hear his breathing deepen. A small smile touches my face, before I close my own eyes. Sleep hits me like a sledgehammer, and I'm out within a few seconds.