FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

~ The coyote shuffled towards the bar with an expression of anxiety, the drab waiter's apron stained with more spilled drinks and dropped sauces than could be seen in the pale night's glow. "Hey, Chere, there's some drifter out front." The old dragon looked up from her book, still leaning back on the barstool. Her expression requested elaboration, the coyote obliging. "And they're bleeding...", as Chere perked up a bit and leveraged herself up onto her feet. As she pulled open the drawer under the counter to start rummaging, the coyote volunteered further, "...and their blood is starting to make holes in the table, and looks to be making holes in the sidewalk."

~ The waiter had Chere's attention, now. "Aho!", she exclaimed, finding the sash where she'd reckoned it. She slid it over her shoulders, looking to the canine. "I'll take care of this." She squared up her shoulders, sash hanging from the back of her neck and onto her chest. The left side of the sash bore a delicately sewn image of a rather tall cactus while the right side carried a patch made in the image of a ferret wrapped around a silver spear which appeared to be piercing a moon. She lingered in this pose until she was confident that her deity had noticed. On her way out from behind the bar she snatched a pitcher of ice water off the counter, moving her hand over it. "Hey, you weasel of life and growth, I've got a pitcher of water for your will to be."

~ The dragon wove a path amongst the tables, the coyote taking some notice that the scales near where she wore the sash seemed to be a bit sharper with their tone and shinier with their luster. "Bless this drink with your ways, that it may heal and mend, guide and cleanse, soothe and calm.", her tone carrying a bit of finality as she concluded the string of words who's pattern were well worn into her tongue. Stepping outside into the oppressive heat of the dark summer night, she recognized clearly that it was a basilisk sitting at one of their tables making an earnest effort to bleed out all over their clean sidewalk and moderately sticky table.

~ Flopping herself down into a chair at the guest's table, the dragon cleric inquired, "So, you here for some last rights?", clunking the water down infront of them in unambiguous offer. The basilisk looked up to her, though their eyes were concealed behind the loosely wrapped cloth and shook their head. The basilisk's reply was in the soft rolling chitter that was the old languages of their people. The dragon leaned in slightly to listen, though the tone was a bit muddled with the sound of blood. The overall gist of the explanation was clear enough, Chere standing slowly as the basilisk helped themselves to the offered water. "Drink all you'd like; it should clean your wounds.", the dragon pausing politely as the basilisk took a moment to cough up a puddle of blood and small scattering of buckshot, "..and when you're done bleeding for a bit, come on in. I'll have the waiter set up a cot in the basement, in case you'd like to rest."

~ The basilisk, wiping blood from their beak with a napkin from the dispenser on the table, nodded happily and gave a hand gesture of gratitude as the napkin only slightly caught fire.