FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

His eyelids were sewn shut by a compact layer of crust. Sweat dripped down his inner thigh and neck, leaving a slick trail of irritation down the boy's body. The hybrid shifted uncomfortably. In his bed, breath deserted his mouth by force rather than will. The windows were closed. Locked. And the sweltering nights of Alden City never seemed to end. Instead, they bled into day, causing long and dry spells of darkness that loomed over the island nation.

Shh...

Now, they slowly regain consciousness. Rubbing his eyes, he rolled over to look at the old, green digital clock on the nightstand.

03.42am

The cough was violent as he searched for his glasses and notebook. After fumbling through random objects, documents, and... last night's pizza, he finally felt the familiar metallic spiral rings and case which situated itself on top of the notebook. He flipped the switch on the small lamp next to him and closed his eyes.

With pen in paw, he began to write.

Then stopped.

And sighed.

Then fell back onto his bed.

The ceiling was so... boring. Being riddled with cracks and bumps didn't help its intrigue factor in the slightest. Turning over to face the wall would prove a similar fate. He should decorate his room more-

Oh. The dream was gone. That seemed to happen when he began to think about it. His dreams were unattainable. Forever locked behind the strong vault of his mind. Sweat continued to trickle down his neck and leg. The hybrid sighed. Must have been some dream. Unfortunately, like all the others, it didn't want to be remembered.

Come on!

New scenery!

Let's get up!

He forced a smile and begrudgingly got out of bed. The wrinkly old pajamas he wore sported little depictions of foxes jumping over the moon and grabbing a star. The latter of which appeared to sparkle in the kitchen light. Stars that also sparkled in the water he poured for himself and the pill bottle he got on his tippy toes to reach from the top shelf of the cabinet.

Three pills popped into his paw, which he downed along with the glass of water. Then, a bowl of cereal was being poured and the little hybrid sunk into the couch.

TV: on

He scrolled through the channels aimlessly, not recognizing any of the shows playing currently. Well, except for the old reruns of those crappy crime shows. Every criminal on there was so stupid! They made the detective's job way too easy.

Listen to this: In one episode, there was this fox, of course, who was reeeeeeeally shady. Shady to the point where anyone with a brain could figure out he was doing something illegal. But, somehow, the police couldn't figure out who was committing these murders! The only reason he got caught in the end was because in one murder he forgot to wear gloves so he got his pawprints everywhere. How do you forget gloves? You're a serial killer, not a kid who forgets to put on gloves before a lab in science class.

While he continued to ramble on in his head about the stupidity of crime shows he still chose to watch, a different fox walked into the room. She was tall, muched older than him. Her red-brown fur was muted in the dim light. The bags under her eyes were just small enough to seem natural and not worrisome. There, in her plain pajamas, was a seriousness about her. She held herself confidently but a tick suggested otherwise. The biting of a fingernail.

"Couldn't sleep, Ramiro?"

The boy turned and his long, droopy ears fell onto his back. He shook his head.

"Nightmares. I blame the nerves."

With a laugh, the female fox walked over to the couch and sat next to her son. Ramiro leaned on her, and two arms draped around his shoulder for a tender hug. He let a yawn escape from his mouth and the fox caressed his head.

"Same but I have faith everything will work out," she said. There was no response from the boy so she continued.

"I was thinking about taking work off. We could spend the day together while we wait for the news."

"Don't-"

"Already used the vacation day."

Ramiro looked up and stared, which only elicited another laugh with a hair ruffle in tow.

"Whaaaat? I can't have a day off? The man of the house won't allow it?" She poked his nose which made the little hybrid draw back, covering his nose with a paw so no more poking could be done. The staring returned. When did his mother get so playful?

"We can play games if you want. What do you want to play?"

Ramiro thought about this, the paw over his nose now resting against his chin. A small humming noise came from his mouth, which made his mother smile. Her hair was frazzled and matted. Instead of it's signature flowiness, she decided to quickly tie it up in a bun. That's when Ramiro realized how tired she must have been.

"The Assassination of Brennan Bear!" The older fox grinned.

"You're on."

Let the games begin!