FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The second chapter of the family reunion series. I'll probably make another chapter eventually, but I'll give it greater priority if more people like it.

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I woke up feeling sluggish, gradually flexing my muscles as I came to. I opened my eyes to see the bed next to mine was empty, with nothing but messy covers and the scent of elk to show that anyone had been there. Part of my mind wondered how long Harris had been gone, while the rest simply tried to figure out where the nearest coffee place was. I pulled up my phone to see that it was almost 10 in the morning, which was confirmed by the sunlight filtering through the shutters. I didn't know why I'd slept in so late, but I did know Harris had gotten bored and left without me.

Seeing as how I was still in yesterday's clothes, I slid off the bed and grabbed a fresh shirt and pants from my duffle bag. I also grabbed my bottle of medication, popping two pills into my mouth just like the therapist had ordered. I quickly showered, dried off as much as I could with a towel, then pulled on a plain black tee and some loose blue jeans. Seeing as how I couldn't go out in public with my fur still damp and plastered to my body, I decided to instead just watch TV in bed until Harris got back.

I grabbed the dusty remote off the top of the TV and flopped down onto the mattress, flicking it on to see some kid's show on. Since I had little interest in pony princesses and enchanted tea parties, I began scrolling through the channels. First there was another kid's show, this one with a group of ten year old superheroes. Next came one of the big news networks, with a brightly dressed vixen discussing the morals of taxation with a grizzled old goat. Then there was a sports channel, and I made a mental note to switch back to that once Harris showed up. Finally I got to some sitcom about some hipsters living across from some rednecks, which I decided I could watch for a short while. I sat back and turned up the volume a bit, curious as to how things would go horribly wrong this time around.

The show was the standard miasma of cliches one came to expect, with ridiculously tangled rivalries, love tetrahedrons, and three pregnancies all at once. The shtick of the episode was that one of the hipsters had brought a friend from overseas, a panther by the name of Pajiin. He was, of course, totally unaccustomed to western culture, being incredibly frisky with anything female and at one point challenging one of the rednecks to a duel. It was kinda funny, despite the small part of me pointing out how stereotypical it was.

"Hey Tom! You up yet?" The door swung open, and Harris strode through the door holding a cardboard coffee holder with two cups in one hoof and a paper grocery bag in the other. He had his standard hiking gear on, with a loose fitting tank top and shorts sporting only the trendiest garish colors. He kicked the door closed behind him, then walked over and sat on his bed. I sat up as well, swinging my legs over the side so that I was facing him. "I got you some coffee, figured you could use a pick-me-up." I took the cup he was offering me, and brought to to my lips only to almost spit it out. The coffee was scalding hot, untempered by cream or ice and left in the primordial state it was brewed in. I set the cup aside, looking up to see Harris staring eagerly at me.

"You are not going to believe what happened to me today." He was grinning like an idiot, his bright eyes filled with simplistic joy.

I mockingly raised one eyebrow. "But I'm guessing you're gonna tell me anyway, right?"

"You know that waitress? From the restaurant?"

"Yeah."

"Well I found this really nice trail this morning, nice and out of the way, so I went for a jog. It was beautiful, with the autumn leaves and stuff, and that's when I saw her." He paused for a moment, his face drifting into a dreamy expression. "She was sitting on a stump, apparently on her own jog. I struck up a conversation, and we... well, we got to know each other."

My eyebrow raised even further. "Oh, good for you. I'm sure Janey will be thrilled to know you made a new friend." Janey had a habit of having apocalyptic freakouts whenever Harris's loyalty wavered, which he usually had to mend with kisses, gifts, and serving as her slave for a few days. I had always entertained the notion that she did it just to get him all apologetic and pliable, but I'd never brought it up with Harris.

His eyes went wide with sudden realization. "Ah, crap, you're probably right." He frantically pulled out his phone, then paused for a moment. "No, it was just a friendly chat. Nothing more." He went to put his phone away, and I was about to start up the show again when he paused once more. "Still, I should probably call her anyways. Never hurts to check in." He lay back onto the bed, holding his phone up above him as the Facetime ringtone chimed. A few minutes later the ringtone stopped, and Janey's cheery voice spread through the room.

"Hey, honey!" To me, her voice sounded like pure sunshine during a heat wave.

"Hey sugar buns! So how you doing?"

"Oh, I'm great. I just got a call from the casting agency, I think..."

I quickly tuned out their schmoozy conversation, taking my phone in one paw and the coffee cup in the other. After a few huffs and puffs the coffee was cool enough to not melt my tongue, and I began sipping at it as I scrolled through a few news articles. Politicians exploiting people, extremists getting into riots, morons giving their kids poison for breakfast. Some poor lion getting his teeth knocked out by an overzealous cop. I looked over at Harris, who had a huge grin across his face as he chatted with Janey. I wish I could be that happy, I thought, without a care in the world, everything just laid out on a silver platter. No side glances, no whispering behind my back. That'd be nice...

My brain more or less went into autopilot after that, and I began scrolling through articles without really thinking. I listened to Harris go on and on, talking about shows and parties and all sorts of things I had no interest in. I heard my name come up occasionally, but I never seemed to get more than a few words at a time. My thoughts drifted back to the upcoming family dinner, fantasizing about these long-lost family members. Part of me thought it would be a happy reunion, with them taking me in without hesitation and giving me the belonging I had always craved. I would be among my own kind, free from the weird glances and suspicious whispers, or at the very least I would have some support. It would be like some kind of feel-good comedy, with quirky relatives of various stripes that all loved each other despite their differences.

Of course, another part of me lingered on the fact that my dad had abandoned them all those years ago. Maybe he had had a good reason, maybe they were all stuck-up snobs. I could wind up shunned for not knowing about the intricacies of wine tasting, or maybe their only pastime was some convoluted game of running and catching which would make an absolute fool out of me. Or maybe they had some darker secret, something my father had fled from that could have gotten a non-relative quietly murdered. Things could go so very wrong, and what if they did? What if-

"Alright honey buns, I'll see you later!"

"Buh-bye, buckaroo!" I peeked over at Harris to see him stowing his phone, slipping it back in his pocket before rolling onto his side toward me.

I turned fully towards him, wondering where he wanted to drag me to. "So, what wonderful expedition are we going on today?" I said with an air of sarcasm.

"Well I was thinking we could maybe...stay here."

Something's wrong, I thought. He was gonna say "Sike!", or "Gotcha!", or claim we just needed to go get beer together in the overcompensation-mobile. "Okay...and?"

"And watch TV or something." He reached into the grocery bag and pulled out a beer, popping it open and taking a sip. He reached in again and produced a bag of synth jerky, which he tossed to me. It was a fairly generic off-brand, but it certainly beat having to much on nuts.

I tossed him the remote. "So what are we watching?"

To my surprise the remote landed back on my bed, and when I looked over at Harris I saw him motion for me to use it. "You pick, it's your family we're visiting."

After pulling up the TV guide, I saw they were showing one of my favorite movies on the sci fi channel. "How about Interstellar?"

"Sure."

We spent the next two hours watching the movie, with me trying to explain some of the finer points to Harris. He'd never heard of relativity, and the idea that time could bend based on movement sounded like black magic. By the time we were done we'd cleared out the grocery bag of snacks, piling wrappers and bottles inside. It was about lunchtime, but a quick glance at Harris revealed neither of us would be getting hungry anytime soon.

Harris swung his legs off the bed, rising to his feet with tipsy enthusiasm. "To the meat packing plant!"

I looked at him with one eyebrow perked. "You sure you're okay to drive? You just drank six bottles of beer in under an hour."

"Nah, I'm fine." He slurred, "I'm tough as nails when it comes to holding my-" He let out a loud belch before continuing. "-liquor. Now c'mon, let's go already." He walked over and grabbed me by the wrist, dragging me out of bed and toward the door.

I managed to squirm free of his grip before he managed to pull me past his bed, getting to my feet and backing away. "Why do you even want to go to the meat-packing plant? Don't you think it's kinda morbid for... you know..."

"Cause your parents own it, or your grandparents, or something, come on." He strode towards the door, then turned around when I didn't follow. "What're ya so afraid of, dude, c'mon."

"Harris, you're drunk. You're in no condition to drive."

"Then you drive!" He chucked his keys at me, missing by a foot and hitting the bed. I bent down and picked them up, admiring the symbol on the key fob. I'd always wanted to try driving his truck, but he wouldn't even let Janey touch it. Now he was handing it over to me like it was nothing, like he trusted me with his life. Jesus he was hammered.

I reluctantly followed him out the door, listening to his slurred cheering. I had to use the footstep to get up to the truck's door, and as I clambered into the driver's seat I felt like a child at the controls of a bulldozer. I reverently slid the key into the ignition, then felt the engine roar to life as I twisted. Harris climbed into the passenger side before punching the address into the truck's GPS. The dashboard was a miasma of high tech gizmos, and with a little fiddling I was able to get my own music hooked up. Techno began blasting through the speakers, which Harris enthusiastically nodded along to. "Hey, I never knew you had such great taste in *hic* music."

The drive to the packing plant was short but slow, as I took great care in driving the beast of a truck. Anytime I tried to accelerate past 30 I felt like the thing was hurtling out of control. I was afraid of hitting something, or running something over, but thankfully I made it to our destination without a scratch. Harris and I got out of the truck, both of us struggling a bit due to inebriation or short stature. I helped him straighten up a bit as we walked into the visitor center. There was a plethora of plaques and photos inside along with a scale model of the plant. A single bored-looking boar was working the counter with his face buried in a sports magazine, paying little attention to us. I set Harris in front of one of the plaques, then moved toward the counter as he mumbled the text aloud.

"Hi, I was wondering if we could get a tour." The boar looked up, almost jumping out of his skin when he saw me. I noticed he had a name tag with the name Anthony Brown inscribed on it.

He relaxed a bit, then replied in a clipped, nasal tone. "Are you here for the Raubtier family reunion?" He fiddled with a pencil while he looked at me nervously, his eyes occasionally drifting back toward Harris.

"Well, yeah actually, and, ah, he's with me." I pointed back toward Harris, who began loping toward us once he knew he was being referred to. The boar's expression darkened for a moment, almost looking like he was sorry for Harris.

"Right this way, sir." Anthony got up from his seat, motioning for us to follow. We quickly made our way up a few flights of stairs to the viewing area. We all had a great view of how the whole thing worked, but throughout the tour I focused less on his explanations and more on the workers down below. I noticed quite a few would seem to slack off, look up at us, then hurriedly begin actually working once they saw us. At first I thought the boar was their manager or something, but after this happened a few more times I realized they were always looking at me. Maybe they thought I was one of the owners, or maybe they just assumed I was some kind of corporate supervisor. Maybe it had something to do with the family reunion that everyone seemed to know about.

My attention was suddenly grabbed by a pair of voices approaching us, both of whom sounded like gritty workmen. "So, what are your plans for this week?" said the first voice.

"Are you kidding? It's the week of the hunt! I'm just gonna bunker down with a case of beer and hope those fuckers don't go after me." The second voice sounded almost panicked. What was "the hunt", I wondered, and why was he so afraid of it?

The first voice was more than a bit confused. "The hell are you talking about? Why would someone come after you?"

The second voice seemed to think a bit before replying. "You're the new guy, right? Moved here a few weeks ago?"

"Yeah, what about it? Is the hunt some sort of local thing?"

"You could say that. It's when-"

The two voices went silent as I stepped into view of their owners. A wizened buffalo stood across from a rather scrawny beaver, both of them looking to be hiding out in a side hall with beers held casually. The buffalo looked like he was trying to suppress a deathly fear of me, while the beaver just seemed curious. Anthony stopped, stepping towards them before turning back to me. "This is Clint, and this is Mark." said Anthony, gesturing to the beaver and then the buffalo, "They're two of our employees here at the plant." Harris and I were a bit too far away for a handshake, so we just gave a quick wave. Clint waved back, while Mark just stood there. "I would have hoped they would have been good examples of our company ethics, but I believe they might need a bit of... discipline." Mark looked towards Anthony with an expression of utter betrayal, like he'd just offered him up for ritual sacrifice. Clint just looked bummed that he got caught slacking off.

Anthony then led us off to the next stop on the tour, leaving Clint to wonder what had his coworker so rattled. After a few more droll minutes of him explaining the intricacies of how fake meat was packed into boxes, we finally came to a pair of doors that seemed strangely out of place. The wood looked far finer than anything else I'd seen in the plant, with the Raubtier family crest intricately carved into both doors. Anthony turned one of the polished brass knobs and swung the door open. I walked inside to find a dimly lit office with a large, expensive-looking desk in front of a giant shuttered window. A silhouetted figure sat behind it, and I could just make out two ears poking up from a lupine head. Once Harris and I were inside, the figure called out, addressing Anthony. "Who are these guests?" The voice was cold, powerful, and unmistakably feminine.

"This is one of your relatives, along with one of his... friends." I looked back to see that Anthony was barely poking his head into the room, keeping all but his snout hidden behind the door.

"Very well. You may go." replied the voice. Anthony slipped out, closing the door with an ominous thud. The figure then stood up, strutting around the desk and towards me. My eyes quickly adjusted to the dark, and by the time the figure got close I could clearly see that it was a she. She was about my height, well dressed in a sharp black suit. A thin silver necklace hung on her neck, suspending a small ruby pendant above her chest. Her scent was oddly devoid of perfume, and in fact it seemed she hardly had a scent at all. As I looked up toward her face, I realized she too was a wolf with grey fur, but that's where our similarities ended. Her ears sported several knicks, and her muzzle ended in a hint of white. Her eyes studied me with cold precision, and I almost felt like she was sizing me up for a fight.

"So, you must be Thomas. A pleasure to meet you." She extended one paw, and when I took it she squeezed with an iron grip. "I'm Phyllis, the oldest of your aunts and uncles."

"Hehe. Phyllis." I noticed Harris standing behind me, drunkenly giggling to himself. "What's your full name, syphilis?" I silently cursed myself for not leaving him in the lobby.

"I see you take great care in choosing friends, Thomas. What's his name?" Phyllis began stalking towards Harris, her tail slightly swaying as she circled him.

"Oh, I'm Harris." He stuck out his hoof as she moved back around to his front, and she took it briefly and limply before continuing to circle him. I could see her hungry gaze sweeping over him, admiring his chest, his flanks, and finally the growing bulge in his pants.

She began heading back to her desk, and once she was seated she motioned for us to do the same in two comfortable chairs. Once we were all sitting, she pulled out three tumblers, filling two with an amber liquid and a third with clear water. She slid the water filled tumbler to Harris, then slid the first amber filled one to me while taking a sip of the other. "So, what brings you to our industrious establishment?"

"Well, I, uh... I just wanted to see the family business, I guess." What else was I supposed to say, that Harris had practically dragged me here in a drunken stupor?

"Actually, I made him come." Harris took a gulp of water before continuing his slurred speech. "We were watching this weird movie about some cowboy astronaut with time travel or something, so I decided to have a few... well maybe more than a few beers." I took a sip from my own tumbler to find that it was filled with liquor, a particularly strong brew that burned my throat. I was about to put the glass down in disgust when I realized that it would help me deal with Harris's drunken rambling. I braced myself, then downed the rest of the liquor in a single gulp. "Then I wanted to come here, but my good friend Tommy wouldn't let me drive. So he took the keys, put me in the car, then he drove over here. We've been having fun ever since, right Tommy?"

"Yeah... right." Part of me wanted to just slap the drink right out of his hand, but I could hardly muster the courage to speak up in the midst of my embarrassment.

"So, Ms. Syphilis, what do you do around here?" Harris had one leg crossed over the other, trying to appear businesslike but ultimately making a fool of himself. Despite this, Phyllis maintained her composure.

"I manage the operations here, from budgets to personnel. I decide where this plant is headed, and if someone slips up, I cut them loose."

Harris opened his mouth to say something even more embarrassing, but I managed to cut him off. "Ms. Raubtier, we're very sorry for taking up so much of your time." I stood up, and Harris seemed about to object when I again shut him up. "Come on, Harris, we've wasted enough time as it is." I took him by the arm and began leading him to the door.

"Farewell, Thomas. I suppose I'll see you both again tonight." Phyllis's parting remark followed us out the door, sticking in my mind all the way back to the Forester Inn. I quickly led Harris through the plant, back to the parking lot, and right to his truck. I pushed him inside before hopping in myself, and I made a beeline back to the motel. I brought him inside, closing and locking the door behind us.

"Harris, I... we need to talk about what happened." I had him sitting on the foot of his bed, with me standing in front of him. He was still pretty damn drunk, but I thought he'd sobered up just a tad.

"Why? What happened?" He still sounded like he didn't have a care in the world, even after making fools of us both. Typical.

"You... embarrassed me. In front of my relative." Word would surely spread that I was friends with a drunken numbskull. Any hope I had of being respected or loved was gone, I thought, they'd just think of me as a deadbeat loser. They wouldn't say anything to my face, of course, they'd just snicker and chortle behind raised paws.

"Dude, I was just joking around. She didn't mind, and I don't see why-"

"YOU FUCKED IT UP! YOU RUINED IT! MY ONE CHANCE!" Something snapped in my mind, and a flood of pent up anger that I didn't know even existed took over. It was aimed at Janey, that waitress, the workers, everyone who'd been talking behind my back. But since none of them were available, the rage focused on Harris like a knife's point. I grabbed him by the front of that goddamned plaid shirt he always wore, yanking him forward until he was inches from my snarling fangs. "I'VE PUT UP WITH ALL THIS BULLSHIT FOR SO VERY FUCKING LONG, AND ALL YOU CAN DO WHEN I FINALLY GET A BREAK IS MAKE AN ASS OF YOURSELF? YOU AND YOUR BITCH OF A GIRLFRIEND CAN GO GET FUCKED, GO ROT IN HELL WHERE I WON'T HAVE TO SEE EITHER ONE OF YOU JUDGEMENTAL FUCKS!"

What had I just done?

Harris was somewhere between stunned and scared out of his wits. He hardly moved when I stepped back from him, and simply looked on when I crumpled into my bed. Then the room was dead silent.

What had I just done to him?

After a minute I heard him get up off his bed, calmly walk through the door, then quietly close it behind him. The roar of his truck's ignition sounded, followed by the sounds of it backing up. The engine's purring faded away into the distance, leaving me alone. Alone to think.

What had I just done to my one good friend?

He was probably leaving, I thought. Leaving me alone with my kind. Maybe they'd accept me, maybe not. Probably not. Not after what I'd done. No, they'd turn me away, or mock me. Probably mock me. It was for the best that Harris was gone. He wouldn't have liked it. He'd be just like me, stuck in a world where everyone thinks you're different. Maybe I deserved that fate. Probably. Maybe they were right to think of me as a monster. Probably. Maybe I should just go to sleep and hope I don't wake up. Probably.

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