FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

It was well into the night, lights having dimmed in every building on the block, with the last one followed shortly by a male anthropomorphic citizen -a canine, to be precise, stepped out through the front doors of the skyscraper and making sure they closed behind him, letting the locks take effect before he followed the sidewalk to his car, parked down the street near an intersection.

He heard the low strum of a guitar ahead as he neared the intersection, and followed the source to an avian musician seated in a chair on the corner, with the waterproof rain barrier of a tent pitched above his head -likely meant to protect him if it started raining. The music was slow and gentle, giving off a peaceful sensation to the male canine, who stopped to listen for a moment, until he walked over and dropped a five-dollar bill into the cup the avian had placed on the ground before him.

The avian nodded in thanks to him, never ceasing his play. The canine stood up to nod back, before he turned to begin to leave. He paused as he found a female vixen standing next to his car. She was dressed very scantily, with a revealing low-cut tube top showing off the cleavage of her white furred breasts, and a high cut skirt that fit so snugly to her curvaceous hips that it left little to the imagination, and a cyan, suede purse hung from her left arm.

Her tail swayed hypnotically behind her as she leaned against the car, giving him a sultry smile and brown bedroom eyes that would make any young man's heart melt. She had long, brown scalp hair, straight and as smooth as a silk scarf, with two braids hanging down from in front of her ears, each one ending in a golden ring that served as a clip for her hair.

"Hey there, handsome," she said, a seductive tone to her voice. "My name's Natalie. Are you looking for someone to show you a good time?"

"Sorry miss; I'm married," the canine replied hastily in a manner that proved he was struggling to resist such a beautiful creature, flashing a gold wedding band on his left ring finger and walking around to the driver's side door of his car, unlocking the door remotely and ducked inside.

She stepped away from the car as the engine roared to life, the canine shifting to drive and pulling away from the curb. The vixen stared after him with an annoyed expression. "Why does it always seem like the loaded ones are either married or gay?" She asked, her tone having shifted to a scornful, almost bratty tone to express her disdain.

Natalie's ear twitched as the avian strummed another note on his guitar, and she turned to him with a scowl on her face, which only deepened as he kept playing. "Will you give that a rest? You're depressing me."

The avian stopped playing, turning his gaze to her which was shadowed by the tent cover that was pitched over him, casting him in darkness that made it hard to discern his facial features -it didn't help the vixen's night vision was offset by the street lamp above him which made it harder to focus. But she still could make out his eyes, and knew he was looking at her.

"With the greatest possible respect, ma'am," the avian replied in a youthful but uncaring tone. "I was here first."

"Why are you even still playing anyway? There's nobody left out here," the vixen pointed out, reaching into the purse hanging from her arm to pull out a compact mirror, checking herself in it. "And if you think you're getting a tip from me, you're wasting your fingers away for nothing."

"Just finishing this song, and then I'll be on my way," the avian replied. "I don't like leaving things unfinished."

Natalie vixen scoffed again. "Whatever," she said, before closing her pocket mirror. "What's with the tent cover by the way? Hate the sun or something?"

"It's in case it rains," the avian replied plainly. "I have... a very rare allergy to water."

"Water allergy?" The vixen echoed. "You mean Aquagenic Urticaria?"

The avian nodded. "That'd be the one," he said, sounding impressed.

Natalie shrugged. "Just heard it in High School," she said. "I thought it was supposed to be super rare or something?"

"I guess I'm just unlucky, then," the avian stated with a helpless shrug, followed by another strum of his guitar.

"That's a real shame," Natalie remarked with obvious sarcasm. "Oh well; no swimming lessons for you." She hoisted her purse over her shoulder, turning away from the avian. "Later."

"Enjoy your night, miss," the avian bade, though she didn't give him a reply.

But as she left, something caught the avian's eye; a flicker of movement on the other side of the road. He leaned forward, the light of the overhead street lamp illuminating his features as he sought the source of the movement, spotting four figures, hiding within the shadows of an alleyway. It took him a moment to realize that they were watching the vixen, one of them holding up what at first he thought was a camcorder, but their attire was unusual.

The four men appeared to be dressed in tactical gear, as one might see on a SWAT officer, with balaclavas and goggles hiding their facial features -except for the one with the camera, who had lifted his off to look through the device, keeping it trained on the vixen as she walked down the street.

"RT-1 to Command Center," The lead operative said into a microphone on his shoulder "Target acquired; meta scope confirms high wavelength concentration within subject's cranium; consistent with psionic life form."

"Classification?" A voice inquired from the other end.

"Negative; need to get closer for an accurate reading," replied the operative.

"Understood. You are clear to engage; subdue target and report classification of psionic potential."

"Roger that. We're moving to engage."

The three armoured figures stepped out of the alley, keeping to the shadows as much as possible as they pursued the vixen, unaware that the avian on the corner was still watching them, sharp blue eyes narrowing with suspicion. He let out a sigh, leaning back in his chair before he strummed another note on his guitar.

"Don't get involved," he muttered to himself, trying to focus on his music.

Natalie was aware of the three men following her within moments of leaving the intersection. She refrained from looking behind her, to give the illusion that they still had the drop on her, following the sidewalk towards a spot she knew where she could evade them. But just in case, she had moved her purse to her front, making it appear she was only checking it for something when she was actually reaching inside, retrieving her stun gun.

'You want to make a victim of me, think again, pal,' she thought, keeping it out of sight as she rounded the corner of a building, reaching the doors and then ducking into the alcove, sinking behind a large refuse bin and making herself as flat against the wall as possible, keeping out of sight.

She never heard the footsteps, but she heard the voices. They sounded distorted, as though they were being spoken through a voice modulator to disguise their pitch. "Where'd she go?"

The second voice sounded identical to the first, but sounded further away. "I'm not getting a reading either; she's vanished."

"Maybe not." A third said.

Natalie barely had the chance to react before the refuse bin was kicked over, hitting her in the back and sending stars dancing across her vision as it thudded into the back of her head and sent her reeling to the ground with garbage spilling all over her. She barely felt the arms seizing her, pulling her to her feet and then pushing her up against the wall, causing her to drop her stun gun in the process.

"She had a weapon," one of them stated, holding up her stun gun. "A taser, by the looks of it."

"No matter - our armour's insulated," another said, his modulated voice sounding identical to the first; even looking at them, with such thick masks, she could not tell them apart - they all seemed to be canid or some variation, but it was impossible to tell.

"Hold her steady while I initiate a proper scan," a third said as he approached, holding up the device he'd previously used to mark her to his eye once more.

By now Natalie had reoriented herself, looking at the three men standing over her, two of which held her by her arms, keeping her secure as the last one stood before her. The full coverage from their gear made it hard for her to identify them; some shapes helped her identify racial origin, but not the exact species giving her no indication as to who they were. She focused on the one in front of her, noticing the reflection of herself in the lens of the device he was carrying and snarled at him.

"Hey, drop the camera, buddy! Filming costs extra!"

The masked figure made no reply to her, carrying on with what he was doing. Within a moment, he lifted the device away from his eye and looked at a small screen on the side. "Classification complete," the figure said, lifting a hand and pressing it to the ear of his mask. "Command, this is RT-1, we've apprehended the subject. Scope confirms her as Class-1 Psionic life form; awaiting instruction."

"Who're you talking to?" Natalie demanded. "And what the hell do you mean-"

One of the men holding her drove his fist into her sternum, knocking the wind out of her and causing her to double over in pain. "Be quiet!" They barked sharply as she coughed and gasped for breath.

"...Roger," the man with the device said, touching his shoulder again before addressing the others. "Class-1 is insufficient for proper research material," he said as he reached into in a concealed holster in his leg and produced a black, compact pistol.

Natalie's felt a lump in her throat again when she saw the gun, and felt its beat escalate as she heard what the leader said next. "She can't be allowed to report what happened this night; command orders her elimination."

"Will this draw any attention?" One of the others asked.

"She's a homeless prostitute," the leader said, the scorn in his voice apparent even behind the modulator that disguised it as he flicked off the safety of his pistol and aimed it towards the vixen's head. "No one's going to ask any questions."

But as his finger lowered to the trigger, the gun suddenly glowed, the barrel and slider becoming red hot within seconds. The leader looked at his gun, and then let out a pained grunt as he dropped it, letting it fall to the pavement where specks of red-hot metal scattered from the frame.

"What the...?!" He demanded.

At that moment, a shadow fell over him; he looked up, and barely saw the distinct shape of a fist before he was struck across the face, sending him reeling as stars exploded across his vision and sent him reeling, but he managed to keep his balance, his helmet and mask having taken most of the punch. He rushed the attacker as the they touched down, only to be backhanded away by the winged figure, knocking him to the ground while his allies watched in shock as their leader fell limp to the pavement.

The two quickly came to their senses, releasing Natalie and turning to the stranger who they now saw was a large avian with brightly coloured feathers of red and gold. The avian had a strong upper body and broad shoulders, clad in a form-fitting black tanktop shirt that revealed his deep chest and pronounced abdomen, with arms and legs to match. He had sharp sky-blue eyes that glared daggers at the two men, daring them to make a move.

Immediately, the men turned on him, one making a run at him and swinging their fist at his head. The avian blocked the punch with his arm, retaliating with one of his own; his opponent deftly weaved out of the way before throwing another, this time landing the punch on the avian's cheek. Yet, to the masked man's dismay, the avian barely recoiled from the blow; he seized the man's outstretched arm with one hand, the other to his belt, and lifted.

The avian was at least six feet tall. The man fighting him, at least close to him in size, yet the avian picked him up as easily as if he were a child, lifting him clear over his head to the shock of the onlookers, and the man screamed as the avian threw him at the cohort on the ground, landing atop him with a grunt from both.

"What the hell?!" The third and only one left standing demanded, rounding on the avian and drawing a pistol, but as with the one held by his leader, it glowed red hot in his hand and caused him to drop it as it heated through his glove.

The momentary distraction cost him, as the avian lunged at him and landed a straight punch to his chest that knocked the man man back, clutching his chest. He drew a blade from his belt, swinging at the avian as they came at him again, forcing them to halt his charge as silvery steel flashed across his face.

As the avian warded off the knife slashes, the other two man managed to collect themselves, bodies aching from the beating they had received. They drew their own blades as they rose to their feet, rushing to join their comrade. The avian saw them coming, and understood that he would soon be overwhelmed by their numbers; he leapt away, but thrust his palms forward, gouts of fire erupting from his palms and causing the masked men to retreat as the fire rushed between them.

"Pyrokinetic?!"

"Withdraw! We're not equipped!" The leader commanded, and dropped an item behind him as the men turned to run, retrieving their dropped pistols before they hurried up the street as a metallic cylinder rolled toward the avian.

Seemingly recognizing what the item was, the avian leapt away , throwing his arms and wings across his face...

A deafening bang, and suddenly Natalie, having been watching the entire fight, was blinded, seeing nothing but white and unable to hear any more than an irritating ringing in her ears. She cried out, but she could not hear her own voice. She rubbed her eyes, frantically trying to clear them, unable to see anything except a photographic image of everything her eyes had caught prior to the flash.

She felt hands on her; instinctively, she thrashed, thinking it was one of the masked men until she felt her feet leaving the ground and the air rushing around her. She stopped struggling and clung to her abductor instead, her every instinct telling her that if she let go of him, she would drop to her death.

In moments, Natalie's feet touched ground again, and she stepped away from the avian, rubbing her eyes and shaking her head, trying to clear the blindness and ringing. Overtime, her watering eyes cleared, and she could take in her surroundings; she was on a rooftop, though didn't know the building until she looked over the side, and saw the tent where she had previously seen the avian on the street corner. He'd carried her over a block from where they had been.

She found the avian knelt beside her, rubbing his ears. She tried to say something, but he looked up at her without understanding; he had avoided the blindness, but his hearing had still been affected by the flashbang grenade.

They waited a moment, and then the avian spoke again. "Are you okay?" He asked.

Y-Yeah, I'm fine," Natalie replied, still rubbing her ear. "The ringing's not gone away yet."

She gave the avian a sidelong glance, and recoiled when she saw how close he was, his eyes scanning her. Instinctively, she crossed her arms over her chest, backing away from him."Hey! What's the big idea?"

"Sorry, I was making sure you weren't injured," he returned, putting up his hands in surrender.

"I said I'm fine," she repeated. "What about you? You took some hits there." She remarked, pointing to his bloodied arms and the several red lines in his skin from which the blood flowed.

"Nothing life threatening," the avian replied, looking down at himself. "And, I don't feel too much pain - shallow wounds at best."

"I saw you throwing fire down there," she said. "That's some parlour trick you have there; you a magician as well as a musician?"

"Uh... sure, something like that. It's... complicated."

Natalie put up her hands, shaking her head. "Later. Next question; who the hell were those guys and why were they after me?"

"I really couldn't tell you," replied Volcan. "They looked like military, but what they'd want with you, I can't say. Did they say anything to you?"

"Before one of them pulled a gun on me, they said I was... 'sigh on' or something like that," she replied, shrugging.

"Psionic?" Volcan asked.

"Yeah, though I have no fucking idea what they're talking about. I'm not psychic or anything."

The avian frowned, peering over his shoulder to the street where they had encountered the three men. He was silent for a moment, before he turned to Natalie. "You should go to the police," he said. "They need to know about this."

"You want me to go to the cops?" Natalie asked in disbelief. "Hello? I'm a fucking prostitute, kind sir; I go to them I'll be the one put in jail."

"You'd be far safer."

"And I'd be in jail; did you not hear that part?" She retorted. "Fuck that! I got a place I can hide out for a few days; I'll lay low and then that'll be the end of it."

"They tried to kill you; do you really think they won't try again?" The avian argued.

"Look, just forget it! Just take me back down to the street," Natalie demanded.

The avian recoiled from her outburst somewhat, but at her request, he nodded compliantly, and she accepted his hand and steppedcloser to him, letting him loop an arm around her midsection as they headed over to the roof, and hopped off the side. She whimpered as they dropped, but a few wingbeats from the avian slowed their descent sufficiently, and they landed without more than a minor jolt from the impact.

"You said you have somewhere to go. Do you want me to walk you there?" Volcan offered.

"No offense, but..." Natalie started to say, but her words caught in her throat when she turned to the avian, and saw the frown on his face. She felt a pang of guilt, and let out a sigh. "I'm sorry. You just saved my life, and I'm treating you like crap." She offered him a smile, and a "Thank you", which seemed to lift his spirits. "I'd be glad to have you walk with me." She lifted her purse, and then remembered something which had her prying it open to peer inside. "You didn't happen to grab my stun gun, did you?"

"Sorry, I didn't see it," the avian returned. "I can go back and check if you want?"

She nodded. "I'd appreciate it."

The avian nodded, and walked up the sidewalk to the corner where they had previously run into the men in the black masks. Volcan's eyes surveyed the street where the fighting took place; the scene was clean, except for the ruptured metal cylinder that had once been the flashbang grenade the men had used to cover their escape.

But try as he might, he could not locate Natalie's stun gun; the men had not even left their guns or knives behind after Volcan had disarmed them. With a sigh, he returned to Natalie to give her the news.

"It seems they may have taken it with them," he suggested.

She of course wasn't pleased. "Fuckers; that thing cost me thirty dollars."

"Sorry."

"Not your fault," she replied with an annoyed sigh. "Just have to get another one, I suppose. Though after having those guys pull a gun on me, I wonder if I shouldn't get one myself."

"Even if you had one, I don't think it would've helped," Volcan stated bluntly. "Those men had body armour and were clearly trained professionals."

Natalie shrugged. "Just a thought. So, what's your name?"

"V-" The avian started to say, but seemed to second guess it, and replied. "Volcan."

"Sounds like an alias," she remarked, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow at him.

"It... it is actually my name," he confirmed, gesturing to himself. "My feathers reminded my mother of magma, so she named me 'Volcano', but with the 'o' removed.

Natalie snorted a laugh. "Not very clever, but hey, who am I to tell a parent what to name their kid?" She shrugged. "Grab your stuff and let's get going. Don't want to be out here any longer than we have to."

Without another word, Volcan headed for his spot on the street corner to gather his things. He collapsed the tent and rolled it up, placing it into a bag, and then he placed his guitar into its case, along with his earnings for that day - thankful that nobody had come along and pilfered any of his money or belongings. With that, he walked with Natalie up the street, the red vixen staying close by his side as they left the block...

Initially, Natalie had not planned on walking the whole way with Volcan to her intended destination - a slum motel in the downtown area, but despite her brave exterior, the incident had shaken her to her core, and she no longer felt comfortable walking alone. So, there she remained by the avian's side, until they came to the parking lot of the motel, where she had a room.

"This it?" Volcan asked.

"Yep. This is where I'm staying," she replied. "I'll probably head out somewhere else tomorrow night, though, just in case."

Volcan nodded. "I still think you should go to the police, but I can't force you," he said. "I just hope you'll do what you need to to stay safe."

Natalie allowed herself a smile at that. "You're a good guy, Volcan, but I'll be fine." Then, she had an idea, and stepped closer to the avian, looping her arms around his and pressing close to him. "You know... I may not be able to explain what I saw you doing before, but I feel like I should thank you in a more personal way for saving my ass back there, and I can only really offer one thing." He could feel her furred breasts pressing into his chest as she leaned in. "What do you say, handsome; keep me company tonight?" She gave him a sultry smile that could've melted his heart then and there, and she could feel him tensing as she rubbed her nose against his cheek.

"I-I uh... don't think that'd be right," the avian replied hastily. "I didn't save you for a reward, ma'am. I just couldn't let those men hurt you."

"And I'm willing to thank you for it," she replied, moving to his side and clutching his arm. "Come on, you deserve it. Free of charge," she added a purr to those final words.

The temptation proved too great for the avian, and soon he was allowing Natalie to lead him to her motel room. Part of him kept telling him to turn and leave; he didn't need this, but another part of him - a longing, lonely side, desperate for companionship, was holding back the decent man he normally tried to be.

Natalie unlocked the door to her room, and bade Volcan to leave his belongings by the door. Within moments, Volcan found himself at the vixen's mercy as she seated him on her bed. She lifted off his shirt, and he could hardly hold back his moans as she began to kiss his chest, all the while her paws unbuttoned her already barely modest shirt, and she only pulled away from him to part the front of the shirt, and he was greeted to the side of her perfectly round breasts.

All control was lost by the avian as Natalie climbed atop him, pressing in close until her breasts engulfed his neck, forcing him to tilt his head back, and Natalie proceeded to kiss his face. She took in a breath, and then eyed him curiously.

"You smell... smokey," she commented. "And you're _really_warm."

"I... uh..." he stammered a reply.

She smiled and shook her head. "Forget it... let's just continue."

Volcan continued only to watch as Natalie finished undressing him, and felt his heart racing as she put her arms behind her head and swayed hypnotically atop him, watching her elegant body dance atop his form and feeling her perfectly sculpted legs and rump rubbing against his groin, coaxing him on.

As she finally took into herself, all sense of resistance evaporated, and the avian gave in to his need...

Volcan awoke some time later, still feeling the aftermath of everything that had happened the night before. He wanted to sleep more, but the sun beaming into his eyes brought him further awake, feeling Natalie's body pressed into his back...

He jerked, all of his concerns from the night before flooding over him again. He had made love to the vixen... it had been the most joyous moment he'd felt in years, but still he felt regret. 'Dammit, what was I thinking?' he cursed himself. 'I'm not supposed to be consorting with anyone out here. Now look what I've done.'

He looked over his shoulder at the vixen. She was deep in sleep, her arm resting over his shoulder, drawn to the natural warmth of his body - warmer than anyone she had probably ever shared her bed with. Carefully, he reached up to lift her arm off him, sliding away from her as much as he could before letting it slump onto the bed. She let out a low hum in her throat, but she remained asleep.

Volcan slowly slid out of the bed, dropping to the floor and landing on his hands and feet softly. He moved for his clothes, standing up and putting them on quickly before he gathered his belongings. He cast an apologetic look back at the sleeping Natalie, whispering a 'Thank you' before he hurried out of the door. The vixen stirred as she heard the door slam, but by the time she fully awoke, she was alone in her room, with no sign of the avian she had spent the night with...

Making a brief stop to drop off his guitar and tent, Volcan left his home in the mountains to fly down to a store outside of Unity Falls; a community general store, which had a small grocery selection. It was a little more expensive than going to a regular grocery store, but the business suited his low-profile needs; it opened early, closed late, and only had a few staff members, the ones he saw most often being the elderly couple who ran the place together.

Counting his earnings from the night before, Volcan entered the store. He found the familiar lynx woman behind the counter. Her fur did well to hide her age; she was pushing into her sixties, but her fur was very well-kept, clean and smooth, giving her a much younger look, but those who looked closely could see the sunken, tired eyes eyes and laugh lines of age, even if they didn't notice her bent figure.

Volcan greeted her with a friendly hello, and she gave one in return as he started browsing the ailes for items, filling a basket and carefully calculating the cost of items in his head - he almost always got it wrong, as he wasn't very good at adding tax to the price. His usual shopping strategy was 'always stop at ten dollars less than what I have on me,' and if there was anything else he still needed, he'd know if he had enough to add it on.

When he collected his items, he carried them over to the counter. "Good day to you, Mrs. Clyde," Volcan greeted her.

"Hello, Victor," she returned.

Volcan had never actually told Mrs. Clyde his real name; he briefly wondered why he hadn't, yet had been fine with telling Natalie despite knowing her even less than he did this kind shopkeeper. But with a mental shrug, he continued. "So, how's business?"

"Mostly people coming into the city nowadays," she replied. "And of course a few locals, but otherwise, a lot of people just go into the city for everything they need." She sighed. "But, we can't compete with those big chain stores; if we tried offering the discounts they did, we'd be selling at a loss."

Volcan nodded in understanding. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said, solemnly.

"Oh don't be. We'll always get by; we may not be rolling in money but we still make enough," she assured him as she rang up his total. "That will be fifty-two sixty-one."

'Damn, I miscalculated again...' Volcan though, cursing himself for his poor mathematical skills. He had enough to buy the groceries, but it left him with little extra. He'd be back in the city that night to strum his guitar some more, it seemed.

He paid for his groceries, helping Mrs. Clyde bag the items before he received his change and left, and took flight up to his cabin.

Volcan's 'cabin' was a deserted Firewatch tower standing high on a plateau on the heel of the Rocky Mountains that passed by the city of Unity Falls, stretching out of Canada and into the United States. The tower had fallen out of use after the city had been built, but it had stood strong against the passage of time, until it was discovered by Volcan who made the place his home.

It was drafty and creaked constantly when it was windy, but it was isolated; exactly what his kind needed, to stay hidden from the world. The world could never know that mythic beings lived among them, as real as humanity and anthropian-kind alike.

Volcan was no ordinary avian, as he had showcased the night before - something he knew he shouldn't have done, perhaps even more so than staying the night with Natalie. She had no idea who or what he was, and while he had answered her questions truthfully, even giving her his real name, he never said outright.

It was better that way, he decided. Better she remember him as more of a mysterious good samaritan; if she knew what was best for her, she would not let her curiosity drive her to dig deeper. Yet still, having put his life on the line for her, he felt responsible for her in some ways; like him, she was an outcast from typical society yet he had gone above and beyond to ensure she could continue to live her life... a life that would be much shorter than his own.

Maybe he'd check on her tonight, he decided as he tore open a can of turkey paté and dug into it with a plastic spork; not exactly the most appetizing of meals but it was rich with the protein he required. He ate quickly, and then retired to his bed to sleep out the morning...

Obsidian finished lining the outer frame of the door with police tape, marking the room as a crime scene to onlookers and other hotel visitors, and then stood guard outside the room as she watched the forensicist and coroner ducking under the tape to make their entry. As she scanned the parking lot, she saw another cruiser pulling into the parking lot, thinking maybe her backup had arrived to help her secure the scene - even though she was already finished.

She was shocked to see who climbed out, however; a dark blue sparrow-hawk with sharp yellow eyes emerged from the vehicle, and started making his way over to her. He wore a uniform identical to her own - the dark blue of a city police offer as opposed to the lighter blue of the Mounties, but she knew him as more than just another cop, and she snapped to attention as the officer came closer.

"Captain Vinson. I didn't expect you to be here," she commented.

"I was in the area; heard the call and that more units were needed," replied Gregory. "What's the situation, constable?"

"Another bad night for the world's oldest profession," Obsidian replied sadly, shaking her head as she lifted the police tape for Gregory to step under, making sure to raise it high enough that the hawk's wings didn't catch on it as he passed through.

Gregory and Obsidian entered the room, careful where they put their feet, and saw the red vixen's body splayed out on the bed, a single, bloodied gunshot wound in her forehead. Half her body was hanging over the side of the bed, and the only blood in the room was on the bedsheets, leaking out of the hole in her skull. The forensicist, Dr. Kent - a white arctic fox, and the coroner's assistant, a yellow-furred labrador, stood over the body, with Kent taking pictures as the coroner inserted a needle thermometer to gauge the victim's liver temperature.

"Low caliber gun," stated Gregory; he had seen the like many times in his long career. "Small wound, and bullet stays inside the brain cavity. No exit wound. Quick and clean."

Obsidian nodded. "That was my guess as well," she said.

"Has anyone spoken to the owner yet?" Gregory asked.

"I did," she replied. "Victim is registered under the name Natalie Mars, but her photo I.D and passport have the name Natalie Richards, age twenty-one. I.D's home address puts her on the Montana side of the city."

"So she's American?"

"Yes sir."

"Anyone been in contact with her family?"

"I called Tanner back at the lab; he pulled up a record for her father, who's currently in prison. He's a teacher, or was; he's serving time in state prison for aggravated assault on a student. Tanner is already calling the prison to have them let him know."

Gregory scoffed. "Charming fellow," he said with dry sarcasm. "We find anything about her assailant?"

"Already asked the owner for video footage," Obsidian replied, smiling at the captain. "This place has good surveilance coverage."

Gregory nodded in approval. "Good work. Soon as Kent's taken his samples, let's go check that footage, see if we can't get an idea of who hit this poor girl."

Drawn by the flashing lights of the police cars, Volcan landed on the roof of the motel, keeping low as he stood at the ledge overlooking the scene below. He felt his heart sink when he saw the police tape lain over one of the rooms... a room he recognized.

Natalie's room.

"Oh no..." he said, horrified, leaning over the ledge as he spotted movement inside.

An ambulance arrived on scene shortly, lights flashing but sirens off. Volcan watched with an increasing, sickening sensation as he saw the gurney being rolled out with a body hidden under a sheet. He held onto some slim hope that maybe it wasn't her... but that hope was dashed as he saw another officer walking out carrying a cyan, suede purse he recognized all too well...

There could be no denying it then. Natalie was dead...

Volcan sank to his knees, the sickness stirring in his stomach now rising to his chest. Natalie was dead, and he had little doubt that the ones who had done it were the same men who had attacked her the night before; not a day had passed since then and they had already come back to finish the job...

How could he have abandoned her like that, he demanded of himself. The guilt gnawed at his heart, bringing an ache to his chest and tears to his eyes. eventually mustering the courage to pick himself up and look over the edge of the roof again, watching through blurred visionas the ambulance left the scene, carrying the body of the woman he had protected the night before, who had given herself to him the same night... and that he should have protected tonight as well. If he had only come sooner...

He saw three people leaving the motel's main office, two in officer's uniform, the third in more casual clothes. A blue hawk, a purple eastern dragoness - one of the only mythic races that lived in public sight, and the fox was white-furred with silvery hair; probably a motel employee? No, maybe one of the forensicists?

As Volcan watched, he saw the dragoness stop in her tracks, and begin to look around the parking lot, as though she knew something was amiss. He watched her, wondering what could have grabbed her attention so suddenly...

Then, to his shock, she lifted her head; her eyes, cyan and clear, looked up at him. Directly at him! Instincively, Volcan ducked, getting out of view of the dragoness; how did she know he was there?! Hastily, Volcan collected his guitar and tent, running to the other side of the roof and jumping off, wings carrying him into the air as he turned his course west, wanting to put as much distance between himself and that motel as possible...

"Obsidian?" Gregory called, snapping the dragoness out of her entranced state when she felt his hand on her shoulder. She turned to him, confused, his yellow eyes meeting hers. "Are you okay?" he asked, concerned.

"Y-Yeah, sorry boss."

"Are you sure? You look spooked," Gregory asked again.

"Well..." Obsidian hated the idea of lying to Gregory. He had been the best captain any officer could ask for - kind, understanding, helpful, and strict when it counted. He could read his employees like a book and always knew when something was bothering them.

Eventually, Obsidian caved, and nodded toward the motel. "Someone was up there, on the roof," she explained, lifting her arm to point where she had seen the figure. "An avian, I think. Bright colours from what I could tell but I didn't get a good look at him."

Gregory followed her gaze to the roof where she had seen the avian. "This happened just now?" He asked.

"Yeah. I don't know how long he was up there though but I think he was watching us. He bolted as soon as I saw him."

Curious onlookers were not an uncommon thing to crime scenes; people passing by would usually stop and stare at the police as they did their work. But to have one run away upon being noticed by a police officer was certainly suspicious to the vetern captain.

"Let's see the footage shows us," he said, patting her shoulder and sending her off to her cruiser while returning to his own.

Obsidian was the last to pull out as she and Gregory left the scene in the hands of the remaining officers to guard until forensics was finished their work. She looked once more up at the roof, wondering who that avian was.

For that brief moment she had made eye contact with him, she had felt such a mix of emotions it caught her off guard. Guilt, sadness, and terror all at once; the terror had been especially prevalent when the avian had realized she was looking at him. She could still feel him nearby - he was moving further away, but like an ever-stretching tether, she could almost feel exactly where he was going.

_'I have a feeling I'll be looking for you shortly,'_she thought to herself before she continued to her cruiser.

~~~~~

The deep, roaring voice of the lead singer boomed through the speakers of the shop stereo as Lighris finished hooking the battery back up to the car's electrical system, no gloves to protect his hands as he secured the battery cables in place.

"Odin! Guide our ships, our axes spears and swords!" Lighris sang along in unison to the band. "Guide us through storms that whip! And in brutal war!~"

The song turned to an instrumental segment as he finished his work, slamming the hood of the car shut before he reached for a rag to wipe off his hands, dabbing at some spots of fresh grease in his electric blue feathers as he made his way over to the garage office. He lifted the work order clibpoard from its place off the wall, and made a checkmark in the box designating the car he had finished, as well as making a quick note of all the work he had done, before returning it to the wall and reaching for the cigar tin in his pocket.

Just as he inserted the first cigar into the corner of his beak, he heard the bell of the front door chiming. Lighris looked for the remote for the stereo, finding it on a nearby table and hitting the pause button before he made a beeline to the reception counter through the office to see who it was.

"Hello? Sorry, office hours ended at five." He paused when he saw the large red and gold avian walking in through the reception area. "Volcan?" He asked, taking the unlit cigar out of his mouth. "Hey, little brother," he greeted the avian warmly.

But his smile soon faded, when he saw his younger sibling wearing the most downtrodden expression Lighris had ever seen on his face. His eyes were reddened, indicating he had been crying, and he walked with a slouched back and dragging feet. "Lighris..."

"Volcan... what happened? What's wrong?" Lighris asked, deeply concerned as he moved to Volcan's side, stuffing the unlit cigar back into his pocket before holding his brother by his shoulders. "Hey, talk to me, little bro - what's the matter? And..." He gaped, looking at the bandages around his brothers arms. "What happened to you?"

"They... they killed her..."

"Who?"

Volcan lifted his gaze to the television on the wall across from the reception counter, positioned above a few mismatched armchairs. A waiting area for guests, normally, but as the shop was closed, the TV had been turned off.

Suspecting that he knew what Volcan watched, Lighris walked over to the reception counter, finding the remote and using it to turn the TV on. By default, it was almost set to the local news channel. As they watched, a broadcast came on screen following the weather report.

"Twenty-one year old Natalie Richards was found shot dead in her motel room; the police were made aware of the incident after another hotel guest reported hearing a gunshot in their neighbours room, but were not witness to anyone stepping out of the room following the sound. Police are currently looking for possible suspects involved in this unfortunate tragedy. Ms. Richards is involved with the convicted assailant Samuel Richards, a former school teacher who is currently doing time in state penitentiary for aggravated assault on a minor, which left a boy hospitalized. Could this have been an act of vengeance against Mr. Richards by the family of the boy he nearly beat to death? More updates as we receive them."

"Stupid local news, always embellishing with speculatory comments," Lighris grumbled. "But what does this-" He paused, and then turned sharply on his brother. "Volcan... what'd you have to do with this? You didn't just show this to me by chance, did you?"

"I-I... I met her, the night before. Some... people attacked her, and I..."

Lighris dropped the remote, gawking at his brother. "Don't tell me you got involved."

"They tried to kill her!"

"So what?! It's worth exposing yourself! At least tell me you did it without using your powers!"

Volcan's silence had Lighris clenching his hands into fists. "Oh, that's just great... so now the next report's going to be about a red bird throwing fire everywhere?!"

"I don't think so... nobody else saw the incident," replied Volcan.

"What makes you think the guys you stopped won't report it?"

"Well... let me go over the incident," Volcan began.

They spent the next few moments sitting in the waiting area, with Volcan recounting everything that had happened that night, from first meeting Natalie after she had missed a possible client, to the fight with the masked men, and ending it at where he had escorted her to the motel, where she was found dead in less than a day. He decided it best to leave out the fact he had spent the night with her; he could tell by the look in his brother's neon yellow eyes that he was angry enough with Volcan for exposing himself. Mentioning that... Volcan was quiet certain he'd be leaving with a black eye.

Lighris took a long drag off his cigar, holding the smoke in for a moment before exhaling. "Masked men... voice modulators, full tactical gear? Sounds like something from a spy movie," he remarked. "But, you're not one to embellish... so I have to believe you're not pulling my leg here little bro."

"I wish I could say I was, but no. It's all true," he said. "They said she was a... Psionic or something, and then they pulled a gun on her. I didn't catch any of the conversation; most of what I've said was repeated by Natalie after the fight."

"And then they tracked her back to the motel and finished it," said Lighris, bringing a sour look to his brother's face. "Sorry, little bro... But it wasn't your fault."

"Who's was it then?"

"Obviously, the men that put a bullet into her skull," replied Lighris, leaning back into his chair. "Well... if they're some secret group then I guess your own secret's still safe for now. Only person who might've talked, well, no longer can."

"Lighris!" Volcan snapped sharply.

"Right. Too soon; sorry," he returned, taking another puff of his cigar. "Just the same, Volcan... it's probably better this way."

"She was just a kid..."

"_You_are still just a kid. Hell, as our kind go, you might as well still be a baby."

Volcan scowled at him. "You only have three years on me, big brother."

"But I will live about a tenth as long," Lighris reminded.

"Less if you keep smoking that crap," Volcan added, pointing at the cigar.

"You have your way to relax, I have mine."

Volcan fell back in his chair, sulking for a moment and creating a silence between him and his brother. "So what do I do now?" He asked. "Those men saw my powers; they'll probably come after me too."

"Obviously, you can't go back where you saw them," replied Lighris. "It might actually be better for you to stay out of the city for a while. Lay low."

"I can't. I have to earn money too, you know."

"You don't have to, at least not until this blows over. Come stay at my place; you know I have room for you. It's not like you own much stuff to bring along; I could fit everything you own into my foyer." Lighris leaned forward in his seat. "Besides, I don't like you living up in that drafty firewatch tower - that thing is ancient, and one of these days it's going to come down."

"Maybe... but I'm happy there. I feel safe, and it gives me my space."

"Volcan. It's not just the tower," he said. "Especially with what's going on now. I don't want you being caught alone. Mom would never forgive me, nor would I forgive myself, knowing trouble's coming your way and I didn't have your back. So come on; come take my spare room."

"I know you would," Volcan replied, smiling warmly at Lighris. "I'll... think about it. But for now, I just need time to think."

"Can you at least stay here in the shop until I'm done work, so that I'm not molting feathers and sparks wondering if you're safe?"

Volcan chuckled at the thought. "Okay, okay... but I'm going to be practicing at least."

"That's fine by me. You like the same music I do so I know you won't play something to make my ears bleed," replied Lighris as he stood up. "I just need to do my cleanup, then I'll be heading home for the night. Help yourself to anything in the office fridge."

"Thanks, bro."

~~~~~

Marcus looked up from his computer as he heard the door to his office opening, looking over the top of the monitor to see Captain Vinson and Constable Kimoyama entering the room. They were having a conversation as they walked in, picked up easily by Marcus' keen ears, but he kept his attention on the footage playing on the screen in front of him, finding the time he had written down earlier and making sure it was ready for the captain.

"I don't know why you wanted me here, Captain. I'm not part of the investigation; I was just a responder," Obsidian said as they crossed the room to the arctic fox.

"Unfortunately, I can't get any detectives over here to take lead; they're all busy on other cases," replied Gregory. "But you have a keen eye for detail and quite the talent for finding people, so I'll have to take point until we have someone, and I'd like a second perspective here."

"Is it really right for you to lead an investigation?"

"Technically I do have the qualifications. I was a detective once, before I got moved back to squadwork," replied Gregory. "If brass would rather have me behind a desk, they should get me more detectives."

Obsidian shrugged to herself, not really having any way to argue that point.

"What have we got, Dr. Kent?" Gregory asked, moving to the fox's desk and standing behind his chair.

"A whole lot of questions with few answers if I'm being blunt," Kent replied, disheartened. "Coroner put the victim's time of death at about two, maybe three hours ago, at the time of the gunshot heard by the upstairs neighbour. However, there must have been an outage or... something during that time, because all the cameras went dark."

"All of the motel's?" Gregory asked.

"No,all of the cameras on the street - even the traffic cams went down," replied Kent. "I've tried everything in that area that has surveillance but everything went dead at he exact same time, was off for about three minutes, and then everything just came back on. But guess the time frame our victim died."

"During the outage." Gregory stated; it was not a question.

"Yep."

"What could have knocked all of them out at the same time?" Obsidian asked.

"That's the million dollar question right there, constable, but I don't have the answer," replied Kent with a sigh. "Instead, I've been looking back on the footage for the last time she left the motel. As far as I could see, she was there the whole day up to the time to the time of death. So far only this stood out."

The forensicist rewound the footage an early morning hour - one o'clock that very morning, where the officers saw the victim entering the motel room, pulling along an avian. They couldn't see much of the stranger, due to the cameras being on night mode - the colours were blurred out with shades of gray, giving them only an outline of the avian and little else.

"What's he carrying?" Gregory asked.

"Looks like a guitar case in his right hand there, but in his left, can't tell; canvas or something," replied Kent.

"How long ago did you say this was?" Gregory added.

Kent pointed at the time stamp on the screen, and then over to the clock at the bottom right. "Twenty hours, give or take," he replied. "The avian left at about six, just five hours later, but it still puts a fifteen hour gap between his presence and the victim's time of death."

"So, not likely our culprit?" Obsidian asked.

"He waited a long time to act if he is," replied Gregory. "Most people wouldn't have a reason to delay for that long. Still, as of now, he's the last person to have seen our victim so we better find him and get a few answers." He turned to Obsidian.

"Where should I start?" She asked.

"Head back to the motel; ask the owner if he knows anything about that avian, or if whoever was working that night does." instructed Gregory. "He might be a street performer; check the downtown area, see if you can find any avian guitarists playing on the corners down there. It's a Friday night, so check near the Casa Del Rose first and work your way out from there."

"On my way," the dragoness replied as she turned and left the lab.

Obsidian didn't tell Gregory, but she already had a good idea who that avian was and where to find him. Within minutes, the dragoness was back in her patrol car ahd departing the precinct, following the street toward the motel as was her pre-determined destination, but at the first red light in her way, she stopped the car and closed her eyes, concentrating.

The tether, she realized, was still there. She could feel its pull - like an unseen finger and thumb pulling at a hair on her head, she could feel the pull of the tether guiding her down a road to her right. She opened her eyes, and flicked on her right turn signal, turning her course toward the industrial park...

~~~~~

True to his word, Volcan waited for his brother to finish work, using the time to practice with his acoustic as he waited. Lighris emerged from the back of the shop a few moments later after returning his tools to their proper places and ensuring the back door and windows were securely locked.

As he shut off the lights and stepped out to the waiting area, he found Volcan still playing his guitar. Lighris took a moment to listen to the sad, slow tune his brother strummed, understanding it as a reflection of his mood, and frowning as Volcan looked up at him, not ceasing his play.

"You're making me want to tip you if only because I hope it'll bring a smile to your face," Lighris commented, sighing. "You're really taking it hard, aren't you?"

Volcan stopped playing, hand falling away from the strings as his thumb pressed against his guitar pick. "I saved her life, Lighris... I risked my own for hers, yet no sooner do I leave her side, she dies anyway."

"If they were that intent to kill her, little brother, I don't think even you could have stopped them," he said. "This time, they'd have been expecting you and probably showed up with bigger guns."

"Even so, I could've taken her with me to my tower, or shown her to another hotel or something," he continued. "I shouldn't have just... left."

Lighris sighed again. "You couldn't have forced her to do anything she didn't want to, Volcan," he said. "Yes, maybe she'd have been safe at your place for a while but she'd have to come back to town sooner or later." He stepped forward and grasped his brother's shoulder. "Now stop moping. Come on; let's go home."

Volcan nodded, reluctantly putting his guitar back into its case and locking it before he got up from the seat. Lighris drew him over and held his brother in a comforting embrace, which the taller avian gratuitously accepted, taking comfort in his brother's presence. Soon, they pulled apart, and Lighris carried Volcan's guitar for him as they left the shop, stopping to lock the front door before leading Volcan over to his parked vehicle outside the main door.

Placing his rolled-up tent into the box of the blue and white pickup alongside his guitar, Volcan waited for Lighris to unlock his door from inside the cab before he climbed inside, having to shift until he got his wings to a comfortable position and shut the door. Lighris lit a cigar, as he rolled down the window, taking a drag off it and blowing smoke out the window before he placed it into the ashtray and started the engine.

"Want to grab a bite before we head to my house?" Lighris asked. "I bet you haven't had a burger in months."

Volcan allowed himself a chuckle. "You'd win that bet. Been eating meat out of a can, mostly."

Lighris made a face. "Oh, man bro - that's no way to live," he said, shaking his head as he drove out of his parking spot and onto the street. "Seriously, you need to come live with me. You deserve better than that."

"I can't really afford better."

"You'd just have to pitch in a bit for rent - a couple of hundred for the room at most. Leave food to me - you know I'm good for it."

Volcan snorted, casting a questioning look at his brother. "You aren't exactly known for having the best diet, bro." 'Or the best budgeting skills,' he thought to himself with a snicker.

"Hasn't stopped me from building these guns, now has it?" He asked as he lifted his arm and flexed it, his bicep swelling to an impressive size as the corded muscles tightened. He relaxed his arm a moment later. "But seriously, Volcan; canned meat? You're not building a survival shelter for the apocalypse you know - long shelf-life food like that isn't something you should have to live on."

Volcan shrugged again. "I guess I've just learned to make do." It was all he could think of to say, but he knew that wasn't a good enough answer for his brother.

"Seriously, Volcan. I understand why you don't think you can live in the city like I can. Hell, even though I can, I still choose not to," Lighris went on. "I just want what's best for you. At the very least you should be able to live normally even if you can't go out as much as I can."

"Comfortable lives can be detrimental too," Volcan stated. "Soon as you get complacent, you start to make mistakes for which you should otherwise know better."

"I'm not talking about living in a mansion like some rich entrepreneur, bro."

"Mr. 'Retire at age fifty'?"

"Hey, I will make that happen."

Volcan rolled his eyes, leaning against the window and letting out a sigh as he looked into the mirror, and tensed. "Uh, Lighris? Cop behind us."

Reflexively Lighris reached over his shoulder and pulled his seatbelt over his chest. "Got it."

"What?" Volcan looked over, and saw his seatbelt. "Oh, that. No, not what I was getting at."

"Bro, I doubt he's following us," replied Lighris. "No one saw you at the motel right?"

"Uh..."

Lighris tensed, looking over at his brother. "Volcan... My heart stopped when you went 'uuh'. Please tell me you didn't get seen!"

"One of the cops might have seen me!" Volcan blurted. "I didn't think she'd think anything of it."

Lighris thumped his head against the steering wheel. "Okay, let's not panic," he said, calming. "They can't know you're in here, so just lay low and let's act normal."

Volcan nodded, easing himself down in his seat to make himself harder to spot, letting Lighris drive in silence.

Then, Volcan noticed something odd - rather, felt it. It was a feeling akin to being alone in an enclosed space, yet ever having a nagging sensation that someone else was there even though you could not see them; he realized he'd felt it for the past few minutes at least, but had passed it off as having Lighris with him. But now that Volcan was alert, the sensation was feeling stronger than before...

"Bro... something's wrong," said Volcan.

"What do you mean?" Lighris asked, not looking away from the road.

"I feel like someone's here..." he answered. "I can't explain it but it feels like someone is standing over me and I can't see them."

"Easy, bro. It's probably just the anxiety with the cop there," assured Lighris. "It'll pass when we get home."

"I... I suppose you're right," he replied, nodding and trying his best to calm himself despite the ongoing sense of an intruder.

He didn't see much of what was happening outside of the truck, but he kept his eyes on Lighris, gauging the situation based on his brother's facial expressions. He felt a mild relief was over him as his brother visibly relaxed as they proceeded through an intersection.

"He went left. We're good," he said. "Probably just a patrol, passing through."

At the same time, Volcan felt the strange presence lessening, as though the unseen intruder was moving further away. He sat up in his seat, staring out the back window in bewilderment; his relief from the absence of the cop was offset by his confusion, unable to process what was going on.

"Hey, it's okay, bro. Everyone feels tense around cops - the sheer sight of them makes you a little self-conscious," Lighris offered, trying to help his brother relax. "Perfectly normal."

"I'm not so sure that time was," Volcan muttered in a low voice, too low for Lighris to hear over the engine of the truck, but offered his brother a nod as he settled back in his seat, trying to calm his nerves.

The presence he felt wasn't gone, but he could no longer sense if like it was looming over him. In that, at least, he found some comfort...

Lighris' home in the countryside came with a rather neat arrangement with his landlord. In addition to a fairly cheap rent, the owner - who lived on the upper floor of the two story house, was only there one week of the month, as she worked out of town for the remaining three.

Lighris' agreement as a tenant was that he would also take care of the property in the owner's absence, and Lighris did just that; he kept the lawn cut, cleaned up debris or garbage that blew in during high wind seasons and used a truck with a mounted plow to keep the driveway clear in the winter. In return, the house was practically his even though it belonged to someone else; it had been quite a deal at the time and he was fortunate to have it, as most of his money went into shop and keeping his business afloat.

Pulling his truck up to the garage door, Lighris cut power to the engine and climbed out of the truc, followed promptly by Volcan who carried the burgers and fries they had bought on the way there. For the entirety of the journey, Volcan had felt that lingering presence that had been haunting him since the appearance of that police cruiser outside of Lighris' shop. Even now, he still felt it; they were at least a thirty minute drive from Unity Falls and he still could not shake the feeling of someone looming over him, constantly looking over his shoulder as he made his way over to the house.

Volcan was so distracted that he didn't realize his brother was calling him until Lighris blurted out sharply, in a tone that suggested it was not the first time the lightning hawk had called out to him, "Volcan!"

Volcan nearly leapt out of his skin as he snapped back to the present, looking around hastily before finding Lighris standing by the door, already having opened it and holding it for him. "Sorry, bro," he replied, sheepishly as he picked up the pace and ducked into the house.

"The fuck has you so spooked?" Lighris asked.

"I don't know," Volcan replied honestly. "That feeling I had when we saw that cop - it's still there. I still feel like something is standing right over me and it's making me really edgy."

Lighris looked out to the grounds around the house. The property was surrounded with trees; tall, thin aspen trees that were so tightly packed it was nearly impossible to see beyond them to the range road, especially when it was dark as it was now. Something could very well be lurking out there, and they would be none the wiser.

Still, he did not feel what Volcan felt, and still the elder avian believed it nothing more than Volcan's nerves. He let out a sigh, and ushered Volcan inside. "We're safe out here, bro; don't worry," he said, closing and locking the door behind them. "Go get settled in the living room, pick out a movie - anything you want; I'll be with you in a moment." He directed his brother before he turned for a door on the left beside the boot rack, leading into the bathroom.

Deciding to listen to his brother, Volcan headed down the hall to the living room, passing the stairwell leading up to the second floor, which was blocked off by a door at the top, locked from the other side. This corridor was very narrow, and every so often Volcan's shoulders brushed against the wall on either side, his wings dragging along them and giving him a dull ache when they caught on the doorframe of the second bathroom door halfway down the hall, which Lighris had already shut.

He stepped out into the main area of the house; the living room/kitchen. The latter was a small, but effectively spaced kitchen in the back corner of the room, with sufficient counter space, but rather old appliances - the fridge, Volcan was certain, was from the 1970's at earliest, and the stove, probably just as old if not more. The newest appliance he could see was the toaster, occupying a corner of the counter space shared by the bread box. The counters were built of dark maplewood with laminated tops, and the cabinets were made of the same wood with an ornate shape like a castle arch carved into each cupboard door.

The living room was a typical man-cave; sofa, armchair, coffee table, television and entertainment center, with two video game consoles, a DVD/Blu-ray player and even a VCR - Lighris had a few old movies in his collection. All of the devices were hooked up to a large HD television, along with two large speakers.

To either side of the entertainment center, Lighris' impressive collection of media was arranged across a pair of mis-matched bookshelves; on the left, his movies, dozens of them covering each shelf and laying atop movies already placed on the shelf when he ran out of room. On the other, video games, music CD's - from before online download had replaced the idea, and a few strategy guides of old games.

Surprisingly, Lighris did not own a computer. There was no internet at his countryside home nor any way to run a line out to it, so owning one seem superfluous to him.

Going over Lighris' collection, Volcan picked a movie he knew from their younger days, raised in their mother's home; a favourite title that he was sure would help calm him down. He took the casette out of the case and knelt down to reach the VCR, removing a tape that had been left inside before inserting the one he wanted and searching for the case of the one he had taken out... until he saw the title on the white label.

'Wild birds at the XXX-Resort'

With a title like that, Volcan didn't even need to look at the case. "Seriously bro, a porno?" He asked aloud before he nonchalantly tossed the tape into the armchair. "Not like you haven't dated."

Switching on the TV and falling onto the couch, Volcan opened the bag containing his food, extracting the contents as Lighris came out into the room to join him. Eventually, as they ate and watched the film play, he managed to push the feeling of being watched from the front of his mind, focusing on enjoying the night off instead. He might not have originally planned to spend the night like this, but it was a welcome reprieve after the night he'd had prior...

Volcan woke up on the couch, finding Lighris missing from beside him as he opened his eyes. The TV was off, and a blanket was laid over him; he must have fallen asleep, he realized. Lighris was probably in bed now. He looked up at the clock above the television, and saw it was six o'clock in the morning.

Volcan yawned as he pulled the blanket off himself, standing up and stretching tall, his knuckles brushing against the ceiling until he pulled his fists back, not wanting to cause any damage. He looked out the window, seeing that the sun was coming up, giving the forest clearing of the property some light to see across.

As he finished stretching and came more to his senses, Volcan realized that the feeling of a looming presence was no longer hanging over him. He felt relieved, no longer having that shadow over his conscience. He seated himself on the couch again, and just sat there, enjoying the quiet comfort. Eventually, he fell asleep again, sliding over to lie on his side across the couch.

Thump, thump, thump...

Volcan sat up with a start, hearing the thumping. He looked around the room, and saw Lighris was awake now. He was in the kitchen, still in his night clothes - a tanktop and sweatpants, peering over his shoulder warily from what he toast he was spreading butter on. Lighris set down the knife and walked over to the hallway.

Volcan scrambled off the couch, and followed his brother down the hall, but stopped at the corner, listening as he answered the door. He peered around the corner to see who it was, deciding he'd just go back to the couch once he saw who it was.

His heart fell into his stomach, and his head snapped back out of sight, eyes wide with horror. The cop... the one who had seen him at the motel, stood outside the door; she was not in uniform, but there was no mistaking those purple scales and that mane of dark violet. It was the same police officer...

"Good morning," she bade Lighris. "Are you Lighris?"

"Yes," replied Volcan's brother. "Do I know you?"

"We haven't met before, no," she replied. "I was actually looking for your brother. Do you know where I can find him?"

Volcan could almost hear Lighris tensing at the mention of his name. Volcan tensed as well; how the hell did she know he was here? How did she even know Lighris had a brother? Volcan was a secret, as were his familial ties!

"...I'm afraid you must be mistaken, miss. I don't have a brother," Lighris returned. "Sorry, what'd you say your name was?"

"My name is Obsidian Kimoyama; I'm an officer with the UFPD, but I'm here off-duty," she explained. "As you can see, no cruiser; no dash cam. No uniform, no body camera, and no gun. I promise you, anything you have to say stays between us, but it's very important I speak with him."

A long, uncomfortable silence followed. Too long, Volcan knew; Lighris' hesitation was all the clue she would need to know he was at least hiding something. He could have denied her at the start but the dragoness had caught him off his guard...

Which, for Volcan, he knew just how much danger the dragoness was in now.

Volcan heard the dragoness grunt, and he looked around the corner again. Very suddenly, Lighris had seized the dragoness by her shirt, pulling her into the house and slamming the door before hurling her against it; the motion was so quick that she did not even have time to react before she was suddenly thrown against the wooden door. She moved as if to fight, but froze as her face was illuminated by Lighris' glowing eyes.

"You know way too much, lady, and you better start explaining, right now!" Lighris practically roared.

"Wait, please! I'm not an enemy!" She exclaimed, but whatever other words she had to say died when she saw Lighris' wings spreading out, and electricity surging over them, visible plasma arcs coursing over and across the feathered limbs. "What the..." She asked.

Volcan ran out from his hiding spot, coming up behind his brother and seizing his arm; the electricity coursed into him, but Volcan felt little pain. He grabbed Lighris under his other arm and forced him off her. Lighris froze as Volcan grappled him, blinking the glow out of his eyes; Obsidian slid down the door, holding her chest where Lighris had grabbed her, panting for breath and watching the unfolding spectacle.

"Lighris, stop!" Volcan commanded.

"Volcan! She's knows about you!"

"She's the one who saw me, at the motel!"

Lighris looked at Obsidian, and then over his shoulder at Volcan. "But how does she know your name? You didn't say you spoke to her!"

"I didn't!"

"He didn't!" Obsidian chimed in.

"Then how do you know?!" Lighris demanded, the glow returning to his eyes. "How do you know about him?! Who else knows?!"

"I know because I'm I'm a telepath!" Obsidian blurted out.

Again with a blink, the glow was gone from Lighris' eyes for the second time, his face softening to a confused expression, one shared by his brother, who slowly let go of him, moving to stand at his side.

A long silence fell over the three, with the only sound in the room being Obsidian's breathing as she fought to calm herself, looking warily between the two avians.

Eventually, Volcan broke the silence, stepping forward and addressing Obsidian, doing everything he could to not appear hostile. "You said telepath? Like Natalie?" He asked.

Obsidian turned her head questioningly, before a look of realization crossed her features. "Oh... Ms. Richards," she said. "She... she was a telepath?"

"Well... I guess? She didn't seem to know," replied Volcan.

"Volcan..."

The younger avian looked at his brother, and at Obsidian as she stood, smoothing her wrinkled tank with her hand before looking at the two again.

"...How did you find me?" Volcan asked.

"When you and I made eye contact last night, it was only for a second, but it was long enough for me to make a link to your mind," she explained. "Not enough to read anything at the time, I assure you, but enough that... well, think of it as a strong sense of empathy. All of your emotions you felt at that moment, I could sense them; when I made the link, I kept feeling them, and the presence of your mind - stronger when I got closer."

"It was you," Volcan said as it dawned on him. "You're the presence I kept sensing all night last night."

Obsidian nodded. "I am," she replied. "The link works both ways; I feel your mind, and you feel mine, getting stronger the closer you get to me."

"You're right in front of me; why don't I feel anything now? Besides an increasing sense of foreboding," he pointedly added.

"The link was broken sometime in the night. Either when I went to sleep, or when you did," explained Obsidian. "But I already knew where you were before that happened; I made sure of that before my shift ended."

"So why come here out of uniform?" Lighris asked, never losing his glare. "You guys think my brother killed that girl, don't you?"

"No; neither I or my captain think so," Obsidian replied. "And no, I am not gathering information from his mind; I limit myself in the use of my powers."

"Didn't think the cops employed psionics," Lighris added, crossing his arms. "Or that one would openly join them."

"They don't know I'm psionic," replied Obsidian. "And they don't know I'm here."

"Dangerous move for you, woman."

"Enough, Lighris!" Volcan snapped at his brother.

"She shouldn't be here!"

"No, but she is. And we can't do anything about it. And no, killing or intimidating her isn't an option."

"Volcan..." Lighris said again.

He turned from his brother then, turning to Obsidian. "If you're not here to arrest me, what do you want?" He asked, his patience clearly running thin in the tense moment.

"Only to talk," she promised. "I know it was you who was with her last night, who went back to the motel with her and left hours later."

Lighris stiffened, his gaze turning slowly to look at his brother with a scrutinizing gaze - one the younger avian did not return, unable to take his eyes from the stranger.

Volcan huffed. "I warn you in advance... it's going to be hard to believe."

"I just saw your brother exploding with electricity, with visible plasma arcs coursing all over him, and yet you were not barbequed when you seized him from behind; you literally walked right into that electricity and you're not even sing" Obsidian returned. "Besides that, I just told you I'm a telepath. Whatever you're going to say," she trailed off briefly, giving a light-hearted laugh and a shake of her head. "I promise you, I have dealt with _stranger_things."

Another silence fell over the three for a moment. Lighris' gaze was constantly drifting between Obsidian and his brother, eyeing both of them with deep scrutiny, as if trying to gauge what they both were thinking. Volcan remained standing where he was, passive and in contemplation, while Obsidian continued to watch him, waiting for his answer.

When he did not give one, she decided it was up to her to break the silence. "So... coffee?" She asked.