FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Boots hit the dirt. The moon rose slowly over the horizon to signal the approaching darkness. The landscape was littered with graves dug in haste. However, the earth had been empty for quite some time as their participants rose back to life. Hollow skulls emitted an eerily green light. With a slow lumbering stride, the undead stood in front of a large gate. Stone, and wooden planks joined forces, to obstruct any would be invaders.

With a heavy swing, their ghastly necks stood no match against the sword that belonged to the first opposing assailant. A knight masked in plate mail stood at the forefront of battle. He let out a inspiring "For the light!" His mighty tower shield eagerly slammed against the undead with the intent of knocking them back into their graves. The reanimated failed to find an opening, as they mindlessly charged forward, before quickly finding themselves cleaved in half by the veteran's counter attacks.

A voice manifested behind the fearless knight taunting "Hey now, leave some for the rest of us. A figure with green scaly skin stepped forward to deliver a devastating smash from his trusty axe. The man was seven feet tall, and covered with light green scales. His reptilian snout, and crocodilian tail validated the existed of noble beast blood. With no desire for heavy protection, the lizard man chose to wear leather brigand armor instead. The man took an over aggressive lunge forward to make quick work of the deceased who were attempting to turtle behind wooden shields, which would soon find itself splintered in half. The green man hungered for battle.

Mindless drones of undead didn't hesitate to rush the now out of position reptilian man. Unfortunately, they stopped dead in their tracks as a flurry of silver bolts burrowed into the fiends skulls. A female with a green ranger's cloak covered the reptilian man with a flurry of suppressive fire from her short bow. "Too easy," she bragged. Her range complimented the others shortcomings, with the intention of unevenly splitting the battles plunder.

An intimidating roar was let loose, which made the thinning hordes freeze in place. A four legged wolf wearing white robes robbed the others of their thunder with the use of his magically cleansing howl. Finally, the last of the skeletons scattered helplessly across the ground. The regal canine let out a triumphant "Bork," before joining the others for ear scratches, and tummy pats. Unfortunately, the rest of the party was preoccupied by the need to pass the gate.

The group noticed a large wooden door knocker clinging to the entrance of that underground fortress. After casting lots, it was up to the reptilian lizard man to try his luck at persuasion. He gave the door a hard knock.

A voice echoed "Who is It?" from the other side.

The reptile replied with a monstrous "I am but a meager messenger of the High Lords. You must allow my party to enter as we bring vital news from the Crow of Crimson."

"What's the password," the figure questioned.

The reptilian man clearly had no clue so he took a wild guess. "It's uh," he stammered while looking around for some sort of hint. He spotted a nearby cemetery and went with "Boneyard?'

"Hmm close," the figure said. "Ok nine letters, It is standing outside, starts with an F," the Inspector questioned.

The reptilian man scratched his chin before remembering that the group had past several fields on their journey. He answered with a "Farmstead?"

"Oh terrible sorry, afraid the answer was fopdoodle, although we would of also accepted fustislugs."

The reptile repeated to slam the door knocker out of frustration until his nails turned blue. Getting nowhere, the knight intervened by giving the gatekeeper a piece of his mind. "You are cowardly to lock yourself behind a door, but it matters not. The Inquisition knows of your dabble in the black arts. In a name of piety, you will face punitive action, might as well open your door now or we'll be forced to break it down." He gave the door a mighty kick from his metal boot.

"Alright then, we're waiting," the shadowy figure declared, but the gate would not budge.

The elven warrior shooed the other fools to move out of the way. "Clearly this requires an effeminate touch." She took the opportunity to knock on the door. "Please, we are but weary wondering adventures. Wouldn't you be so kind as to open up kind stranger? The weight of our immensely large coin purses, is too much for our beautifully voluptuous curves." The ranger gave a purposely lustful moan as a sort of tease.

The crusader interjected at this notion with an indirect "We? Stop this madness, our curves are not voluptuous nor hourglass shaped. We are warriors of a noble and pure cause!"

"Actually, I might be a bit on the hourglass side" said the reptilian man.

"Unfortunately, we are not taking in any misshapen adventures at this time" the Inspector declared.

The dog of priestly attire tried to rest his front paws on the knight's chest plate in order to receive his rightfully due payment of attention. Alas, the now irate veteran was clearly not in the mood as he slapped the wolf with a "down boy!" To the regal wolf's chagrin, the party was much too preoccupied arguing about the shape of their bodily angles. Before the group could give up, and return empty handed, their loyal canine reached for the door knocker.

"Great, now the mutt wants to give it a go." The ranger rolled her eyes.

The knocker was lifted by the wolf's jaws before being released with an audible thud. "Bork!" shouted the canine.

"Enough, Be gone, Leave!" replied the unyielding Inspector."

The wolf put his head down with a submissive whimper, and whined at the door with puppy dog eyes.

"Don't give us that, Stop! Adventurers be damned. Go home, take your little toy swords, spine breaking curves, and pretentious attitudes out of our sight."

"Awoo woo" said the dog with a pleading gaze.

There was an exasperated sigh from the other side; "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you."

A low rumbling noise came from the nearby stone entrance. The wood gate lifted towards the sky, while the two stone slabs located behind their barricading counterpart split down the middle. With the freedom to enter permitted, the group raised their weapons warily, in case any ready beast was waiting to strike. The rangers responded with a baffled, "I can't believe what I just saw. The pouch actually did it."

The wolf of white robes looked at the others with a sense of confidence glinting from his eyes. Naturally, the others paid the canine no mind and simply walked onwards. A cold stone passage lit up with rows of consecutively placed torches welcoming them. The frontlines were held by the armored knight who swiftly moved forwards with a zealous stride. Ambient cave drips, and croaks of toads encouraged the other three to move forward with trepidation. Tail between his legs, the wolf found himself reluctant to move onwards.

Meanwhile, a hopeless sad weasel like creature was sitting in the cold darkness alone. The now homeless Sam curled into a ball with his stomach in a painful knot. With the realization that his new body had never eaten, Sam was sure he would never get to eat real food ever again. Pitifully, he kept his eyes forcefully shut, and the only noise he made was the occasional sniffle to sign defeat. Sam recalled the cozy twin sized bed he used to sleep in every night.

He couldn't help but feel something brush against him. His back was being rubbed as he could hear a soothing "There There." Sam ignored his surroundings, hoping that the nuisance would go away and leave him alone. Being still and quiet proved to be ineffective as the hairy creature soon decided to sit down next to Sam, and lean up next to him.

"Do you mind?" Sam commented.

"You smell like stress."

"That's because I'm trying to brood." Sam couldn't quite muster the confidence to tell the individual to go away.

"Who are you?" the unknown individual inquired.

"None of your business."

"Is too!"

"..."

"You taste like salt."

Sam shot up from his position as he had clearly had enough. "Why are you licking me?" He stared at the individual with a vehement rage. Sam could clearly make out the telltale features of his own kind. The almost entirely identical traits made Sam a bit uncomfortable. He backed up.

The figured looked at Sam, "Its ok, I like to cry too sometimes. And then the juices end up tasting really good. He was now scooting closer to Sam hoping to get another taste. "Comon, don't let your tears go to waste or they'll dry up." He was readily reaching for Sam.

"Can you stop being weird for one second!"

"Can you stop being a meanie for one second, and let me have a taste?"

"You already had a taste."

"Another taste than?"

"NO!!!"

The two squabbled for a bit longer until Sam finally decided he was too annoyed to sit around and argue, so he began to walk away. The other creature failed to take a hint, and decided to follow Sam in order to satisfy his own curiosity. The tiny monster had a white number seven proudly displayed on his thigh. He scurried over to Sam and inquired, "Where are you going?"

Sam replied with a rude "Anywhere that isn't here." He picked up his pace.

Number seven jumped in front of Sam's path. Trying to be helpful, he chimed "Great, I can show you the way. He received an unamused glare and promptly ignored it announcing "My name's Seven by the way. What's yours?"

"My name's Sam," he grumbled.

Seven tilted his head in confusion. "Silly, that's not a name. Tell me your name. No wait, I'll just read it myself sense you don't wanna tell." The uncomfortable Sam received several sniffs as his arms and legs were inspected. Sam's appendages were raised to check his arm pits, and when that yielded no results; Sam was toppled over so that the creature could check under him as well.

"Quit it," Sam complained.

The lost in thought Seven turned to Sam, "Alright, I give up, seems you don't have a name."

"I told you my name is Sam."

"Aww, Don't fret. I'll just give you one." Seven seemed to be mumbling something to himself while counting off his digits several times over. "Ok, our families' lowest number is one hundred fifteen, so you can be one hundred sixteen."

"What? You can't just rename me," Sam whined.

"Too late!" Seven put his paws together and concentrated.

A hot white flame burned across Sam's stomach. He tried to bat the smoldering image out, and when that didn't work he rolled over the mildew coated ground in an attempt to eradicate the flame. After several failed attempts of trying to douse the fire, the weasel thing realized that he wasn't actually in pain. Furthermore, he had received no bodily damage, although the resulting smoke bothered his now twitching nose. After a short moment, the burning sensation went away. The only thing that remained was the after image of a white one hundred sixteen. Sam could tell it was that number, because it had been printed upside down.

Seven gave an amused "Nine hundred eleven? I guess that works too." He tried to roll his head upside down which caused his body to rotate with a very clumsy cartwheel. "Wait, I see it now." He had one foot pointing straight towards the ceiling before he tumbled over himself.

The stunned Sam realized he couldn't simply wipe the mark off so he decided to do the next best thing. He covered his stomach with both his arms so that the other one eyed creature would stop starring at him. "Great, you spelled Sam wrong, good job."

Seven chuckled, "Aww never mind that, don't you like it."

"No," Sam grumbled, "You can change it back now."

Seven sat down with a defeated "Rats." His tail swished side to side as he went to thinking. Sam just stood there hoping Seven would change him back, or at least correct the number's position. Seven could feel an eye gazing upon him so he tried to change the subject, "So, did you meet the other numbers yet." The question made Sam, or perhaps One Hundred Sixteen, realize that whatever thing he had become, it was known as a number. To Sam, it just sounded like an idiotically simple name, and he didn't put it past the Inspector to come up with something like that.

"Hah, just meeting you is enough to drive me up the wall." Sam's squabbling was cut off by the sound of his painfully ravenous gut. Unfortunately, Seven sensed the other's hunger and smiled at him before deciding to get up. Sam gave a worried, "What, what are you looking at me like that?" He was being ushered down the hall by a now uncharacteristically quiet Seven. If the hungry weasel tried slowed down, the nuisance would just end up tugging on his fur even harder. Off they went.

Inside the stone fortress, a group of gamblers were sitting around a wooden table, and participating in a game of cards. Twenty Five inquired "Got any kings?" but the other two opponents gave a negative head toss. "Shoot," he was disappointed as another lost round was sure to become inevitable. The weasel thought about cheating on his next hand, but the immense boar man's focus was unnerving. Furthermore, he knew One Hundred One, wouldn't cease to hold the mistake against him.

Unfortunately, their game of chance would have to wait as a nearby wooden door was suddenly knocked down. Four adventurers rushed out and surveyed the room. The knight held up his sword, the brigand brandished his axe, the ranger knocked her bow, and the wolf wagged his tail happily. Not paying the intruders any attention, One Hundred One asked for "any threes." Unfortunately, the game was cut short as a silver tipped arrow penetrated his card, and stuck it to a nearby wall. The three got up from their seats with disdain, despite how the smaller creatures were actually just sitting on the table top. One Hundred One let out an irritated, "Hey, wait your turn!"

The boar man groaned "Come on boys, remember to use your manners."

The two numbers looked around at each with a bit of confusion before remembering to politely announce, "Hi friend, Hi friend."

The boar gave a displeased "Not those manners, the ones we use on unwelcome visitors." His voice stuttered out with a terribly strong cough.

"Die friend, Die friend," the weasels had tried again.

The lack of apparent threat caused the adventurers to let their guard down. With a taunt, the knight gestured the others to come forth proclaiming "I'll take you all on." His steel was ready to face the boar man who would be a far greater threat than the undersized weasel creatures. However, he didn't expect the tiny monsters to eagerly jump down from the table and step forth. The knight questioned, "Um, don't you think the foul pig beast ought to go first?"

Hearing the tiny weasel like monsters giggle, the boar man felt his blood pump. He questioned the children with an irritated "What's so funny?"

Twenty Five responded, "He called you stinky." One Hundred One elaborated, "And a pig."

With his full rage, the boar man punched the wooden table which caused it to fold in on itself. "That's it!" He picked up his barrel and gave it a hard pat which elicited a wooden thump. The two weasel creatures covered their ears before rolling across the floor in a writhing pain.

The adventurers were clearly confused, as they expected these kind of places to be less welcome. The undead were simple to slay, the gatekeeper was easily convinced to let them in, and the security clearly wasn't taking their jobs seriously. Seeing that their opponents were clearly outclassed, the ranger taunted "What are you going to do with that barrel, challenge us to a drinking contest?"

"Hah no, you'll see, just give it a moment."

Not wanting to waste any more time, the adventurers sprang into action. The knight took an eager stomp with the intention of crushing the smaller creature's spine, the brigand brought his axe up above his head, the ranger shot her arrows at the pig's fat, and the wolf perked his ears up before running off into the dark hallway. Weapons flung across the room with a brave hearted rage.

"Really?" the boar beast complained. "What the?" the ranger stuttered in amazement. The silver tipped bolts failed to pierce the creature's skin after bouncing off his raw hide. "That was just pure luck," the ranger elaborated. Speaking of luck, it was clear that the reptilian brigand had stopped stone cold in his tracks. He had ran his axe into the low ceiling. The pig man just looked at him like he was some kind of idiot, and the two unfortunate adventurers turned to the knight.

The knight was frantically swinging his sword through the air with a lack of direction. He let out a panicked laugh.

"Get a hold of yourself," the ranger ordered.

"Their everywhere, everywhere I say!" The knight dropped his blade before attempting to rip off his own armor. "Can one of you be my squire and get me out of this dreadful thing." It was as if he was attempting to do some weird dance.

"Kay!" exclaimed Twenty Five. Chewing and snapping could immediately be heard from the knight's suit. Next a small paw reached out from the armor's joints and threw out a piece of belt that was in the way. The metallic leggings fell to the floor, along with the under linens designed to prevent chaffing. The knight commanded the others to look away from his lack of piety.

Upon turning their heads, they saw something strange oozing from the wall. Huge black chunks of twisting mass was pouring out the cracks of the floor. Soon to be surrounded by all sides, the reptilian man questioned "What is that?" Upon closer inspection, the three could witness a sea of eyes. The two adventurers who still had decency wondered where their canine companion had gone. The group considered using their greater size as an option, but the shame that slipped down from the knight's waist weighed heavily on the back of their minds.

Black tails swished nimbly around their stomping feet. The many faces looked up with a "Hi friend, Hi friend." It became clear that the creatures weren't surrounding them from the start. They were called by a signal, or perhaps it could be considered a dinner bell?

The ranger turned to the brigand with concern; "I don't think I brought enough arrows."

Seven and One Hundred Sixteen walked down a long hall. Seven explained that whenever a loud bang could be heard they were supposed to meet up at the entry way to partake in a delicious meal. Sam was against the idea of eating raw meat, but he also didn't have the guts to starve to death. With a tough decision to make, Seven insisted that he needed to eat, and that he was being a brat. Naturally, Sam disagreed. However, he didn't have the energy or strength to escape his inevitable meal.

The two stopped by the dining room. Seven turned to Sam, "Don't worry, it's still fresh." Sam was mortified to see a pile of meat and bones. He tried to not look at the flesh. Several weasel monsters laid around the floor, too stuffed to finish their meal. Seven walked up to the grub and yanked off what could be described a delicious looking thigh. He explained that some dumb animals had probably decided to wonder in again. Sam could smell the savory protein.

A sanguine flavor tickled his nose. Far too smelly to resist, Sam's instincts overtook him and he nibbled his way through the meat. Seven took his share, and the two watched the others separate three piles of inedible clothing. Sam asked what they were eating, and Seven responded by saying it was "Steak!" The consistency certainly was tough. Sam wondered why they didn't bother to add seasoning, or why they didn't cook their food.

"Needs barbeque sauce," commented Sam.

"What's barbeque sauce?" came a curious reply.

Coming back to his senses, Sam began to hyperventilate. At first he had been too hungry, and distracted by the reptilian scales, but the rest of the corpses had eerily familiarly shaped bones. He couldn't believe he was able to stoop so low despite the fact that he was starving. Perhaps if the human like creatures were a matched size, he would have been quicker to identify them? Sam began to sweat nervously, and the fact that the flavor was so juicy bothered him. The old human Sam would have preferred his meat to be tender, but the small monster Sam craved for a tough chew, and a salty crunch. Mortified, he fell down and asked, "Why are we eating this?" He reached up to a munching Seven with the intention of getting him to stop eating. "We can't eat people no more," said Sam.

Seven batted Sam away, "Hey, Get your own," Seven exclaimed. He continued gnawing before he was able to swallow the remaining tendon in one bite. Sam just watched in shock as Seven consumed a piece of what was probably a person. Sam knew it would be difficult to convince the group to stop, maybe even impossible? He was tainted by the knowledge of its scrumptious taste. A bit too wet and chewy, but the bones provided a nice after taste, and the fat would practically melt in his mouth. Sam shook his head hard as he couldn't imagine why he was thinking about this. "Comon Seven, we can't eat this no more. These animals are clearly intelligent."

"If they are so smart than why did they taste so good?"

"That's what bothers me, I think the Inspector turned us into some kind of man eating machine."

"Is that bad?"

"Yes," Sam shouted before asking Seven if he had any prior memories from before he was a long tailed creature. Seven just shrugged him off as he clearly had no clue what the other was talking about. Not wanting to get into another carriage argument, Sam asked Seven to think really hard and attempt to remember anything unusual. Seven mistook Sam's interrogation as some kind of game and pretended to think really hard.

"I got it!" declared Seven.

"Yes really," Sam looked hopeful.

"You want all the steak to yourself."

"NO!!!"

Sam got up, and walked off. He felt tense thinking about his new life, Seven, and the Inspector. A bright idea hit him like a ton of bricks. The adventurers had wondered in from the outside, implying that there was life beyond the darkness. One Hundred Sixteen had no bags to pack, it was simply a matter of saying goodbye. The other weasels were taking their new possessions through one of the room exits. Sam inferred that they were hoarding their cache, so his best bet was to go the other direction. He ran with a guiltily obtained source of energy.

Upon moving forward, Sam discovered a light illuminating the end of the tunnel. He came close and looked out into the night sky. The stars wove an abundant tapestry. There was no pollution to obscure their light. The highest form of technology consisted of the occasional logging mill or granary. Near the gate, the soil was laid barren with the curse of the undead. However, wide pastures, and deep forests could be seen across the horizon. Sam's coat protected him from the battering night air.

An unseen force pounced on Sam's tail. He could hear the voice of Seven demanding "Hey wait up."

Sam flicked his tail away with an irritated "Why are you following me?"

Seven dodged the question with a "What is this place, what did you find." He hid behind Sam as a gust of chilly wind spooked him.

"What, you've never been outside?"

"Look at that it's all sparkly."

"That's the sky."

"Look at that its super green."

"That's a pasture."

"Look at that it's also green, but different?"

Sam sighed, "That's a forest." He tried to walk towards it but he was pulled from behind.

"Wait, you can't go there. It's against the rules."

"Did the inspector make these rules?" questioned Sam. Seven nodded so Sam replied "Welp, guess I'm going then."

A now concerned weasel thing meekly followed. "Wow, the ground is so soft and dirty out here. Ok, let's play a new game. It's called uh? See who's first to go back inside?" After getting a head start, Seven looked back and found that Sam wasn't playing along.

"Guess I lose," came Sam's reply.

Practically hanging off the back of Sam, Seven asked "What, why aren't we going back. What about the others?"

"Hmm, well I never really met them. You don't have to follow me if it's too hard for ya."

Seven thought about the obviously painful decision he had to make. "That's not fair, I can't let you go out on your lonesome."

"Let go off me," Sam demanded.

After much incoherent whining, Seven eventually lost the willpower needed to hang on. "Is there any way I can convince you to turn around? Comon, there is so many fun things to do back home, and this place is far too big."

"I like big," Sam said, "It reminds me of what I once was." Seeing Seven plead pathetically, he turned to him and explained, "Look, it's not like I'm going far, at least not at first. Just going to settle down somewhere that has food that isn't taboo."

"So what you're saying is, if it gets too hard you'll turn back?"

"That's precisely- "Sam looked at the other and could tell he was thinking of something diabolical. It was like there was a hamster wheel beginning to turn in Seven's head. Not wanting to be sabotaged, Sam ran fast with the hope of putting ground between the two of them. Of course, it would be all for naught as the older brother had the literal same pair of genetics, but with time to increase his strength and stamina over the years. Seven was on Sam once again with a playful pounce. The two went rolling down the hill.

"Dizzy," cried Seven.

After dusting himself off, Sam looked back and gave a commanding, "Leave me alone." He made his presence known with a hiss. "Can't you see it's hard enough as it is?"

"It's only hard because you are making it hard. It would be much easier to go back," Seven stood in Sam's way, "Think about it, you get a safe place to eat, sleep, play, and do other things. Why would you ever want to leave such a comfortable place?"

"Listen, I don't know what makes you think that place is comfortable, it's dark, dirty, and there is the Inspector who is a complete creep."

"He is not!"

Sam grumbled at the other before storming off into the forest. He put the thought of weasels aside, and looked at the many branches that had fallen from various trees. Perhaps, he could use them as a makeshift shelter, they might as well be tree trunks for Sam's small size. Remembering how his species had been able to efficiently chomp through bone, he nibbled the twigs to make them more usable. He realized that he could sharpen the ends of each stick, which would transform them into a crude spear. It would likely prove itself to be an inefficient weapon, to use against predators, but once he found a stream he could take a jab at the aquatic life before he hopefully caught something. Come to think about it, his thought process was all very human sounding, and he wondered if he would be better off tracking down his next meal, like some sort of cat.

"Why are you eating sticks?" questioned Seven, "That's weird." Seven took a taste, and found that branches had a very earthy and thus boring flavor. "Steak is way better."

"Look, don't eat them. I need them to be sharp, ok?" Sam collected branches, and put them behind him so that he could defend his hoard.

"What why?"

"First, I'm going to give the fish a good ol stabbing, and then I'm going to eat said fish in front of you, and all you can do is watch in envy. Then you can either catch your own fish, or go back and live your nice comfy life with the Inspector and the other rats."

"Hey, we aren't rats." Seven grabbed his own stick and began to sharpen it.

"What, what are you doing now?"

"Well, I thought that if I gave the fish a good ol stabbing, there would be none left for you. Then you could watch me eat the fishies with envy, and theeeennnn you would eventually get hungry, and we could go back to live our comfy lives with the Inspector," explained Seven.

Sam's tail swished and his teeth chattered, "Fine, suit yourself." The two went storming off in search of water. Unfortunately for Sam, Seven had decided to stay close. The two walked in single file until a cloud rolled over the moon, and it became too dark to accurately survey the surroundings. Sam took the opportunity to jump into the nearby nook of an oak tree. Seven almost passed him, but was able to hone his way back around, with the help of his button nose.

"One Hundred Sixteen?" cried Seven.

No response came, but Sam was obviously in front of Seven.

"Sam?"

"What?!"

"I don't think there's any fish here."

Sam's muscles felt like cardboard. He mostly ignored Seven's bickering and wrapped his new tail around his own body. It was more comfortable than the cool grass as it was soft like fleece, but his own blood flow provided a source of warmth. He let his shoulders relax, and his eyes droop lazily. "Comon Seven, there's no fish yet, let's get some rest.

Seven flopped over Sam, "alright."

"Arrrgghh," Sam complained, "Personal space!" Sam pushed him away.

"What, don't be so bratty, move over."

"Seven!" Sam lunged at Seven with the speed of a fox. He tried to use a hostile push to get his message across. "This is my spot and I will fight you for it so leave me alone."

"But, I've never had to sleep by my lonesome before." His eyes were begging Sam.

"Then go home and sleep in your bed."

"But, I can't let you be unsupervised."

Sam let out an exasperated sigh, "Look, you're not sleeping next to me and that's final."

"Hey, you can't boss me around I'm older than you."

"No you're not."

"Am too!"

The two argued about their age. Unfortunately, Seven didn't believe that Sam had past life experiences, and it became painfully evident that he wouldn't be able to prove his true age. The greatly annoyed Sam tried to convince Seven by talking about his old memories. He described the human culture that existed behind yearly celebrations. To add a sort of emphasis, he described the first birthday he could personally remember. It involved his overly excited parents giving way too many gifts to what was essentially a five year old Sam. In his excitement, the room was flooded with shredded wrapping paper. Looking back, Sam wondered if he had been spoiled, because it felt like he would get less and less gifts with each passing birthday.

What made the memory difficult to explain was that his parent's declining goodwill wasn't related to finances; he knew they started out broke but steadily rose up the workforce ladder. As it turns out, government jobs offered absolutely terrible starting pay, but Sam's parents would eventually find themselves making more than double the average civilian's income. Unfortunately, they had to survive the hell that was basic training, and that alone didn't get them their college degrees.

All of this was mind boggling to Seven who assumed Sam had an overactive imagination. However, he let Sam continue as his stories provided entertainment. Seven asked Sam if his imaginary parents gift giving had declined, due to dwindling parental love. Sam was greatly frustrated by the notion that Seven didn't believe him. Nonetheless, he elaborated that it wasn't that they loved him less, but each passing celebration desensitized him. In Sam's opinion, it wasn't the quantity of gifts that really mattered. Furthermore, it seemed like a pretty normal human behavior to spoil their child when they were much more cute and small. One of those life questions with multiple answers, Sam hypothesized.

"I don't care if you're not convinced, I need personal space, and that's something you and the Inspector can't seem to get into your thick skulls," Sam commanded.

Seven looked at the ground with a guilty expression. "I see, I just wanted to make you a bit more comfortable." He curled up into a ball and turned his back against Sam, not knowing what to think.

Sam had to blink his eye after witnessing a confusing sight. Did Seven finally listen to him? Not wanting to waste the opportunity, Sam closed his eye tight, with the intention of getting some rest. However, rest didn't come for the both of them, and Sam had a sneaky suspicion as to why. He looked at the others hairy back, and he could somehow tell that Seven was still awake, but he wasn't sure why. "Seven?" Sam whispered.

"Yes?"

"Where do you usually sleep."

"Home?"

"Ugh, let me rephrase. Where do the numbers usually sleep?"

"Just wherever it's comfortable, like in the walls where we can't get stepped on."

"In the walls?" Sam stopped himself for a moment before putting the conversation back on track," Never mind, I wanted to ask if you slept in groups of gigantic fluff piles?"

The analogy allowed Seven to let out a small chuckle. "Yeah, I thought that would be obvious. Fur is much softer than stone. Although, sometimes we chew holes through the larger animal's mattresses to keep warm."

Something about living inside the Inspector's furniture amused Sam. Nevertheless, he found himself being torn apart by both guilt and pride. Sam realized that the numbers had a very strange culture. For one, the others seemed to always be together, aside from Seven who was following him persistently. Sam remembered how close the others were standing or sitting during meal time. It looked very uncomfortable to him, but he also considered that he may have been insincere to Seven. Sam let out a guilty groan, before patting Seven on the back. "Hmm, I'll give your weird culture a shot. Just try to lie still."

"Ok," Seven chimed. His curiosity got the better of him and he peaked back at Sam.

Under his fur, Sam was practically blushing. He let his draconic like horns rest on the back of Seven.

Seven could sense the others wariness so he let him get comfortable on his own terms. To Seven, the other numbers served as platonic nap time buddies. However, Sam didn't really seem to understand. Seven suspected that Sam had some sort of problem with the way he managed his anxiety. Unfortunately, that kind of problem wasn't something Seven could solve. After all, fighting anxiety was up to the individual, and it was clear that One Hundred Sixteen had a lot. Seven decided he could finally close his eye as it became apparent that the younger brother wouldn't try to run off in the middle of the night.

After about fifteen minutes or so, Sam wondered if he had made some mistake. The constant up and down motions from Seven's lungs was very distracting. Sam didn't think this sort of thing counted, but he had never snuggled another being before. He wondered if the feeling was just as awkward for Seven. He listened closely to check on him, and found that he was apparently breathing?"

The sounds of soft snores repeated. Seven had managed to fall dead asleep instantly. Sam, did not want to change position, because it could wake the other creature. His now greyish feeling eye looked up at the forest canopy. "Great," Sam huffed.