FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

This is the second part of my birthday present for Ozone, and something which I have written myself. Just hope you like it when you do read it, since you definitely do deserve it, no matter what you seem to think. If you don't like it then just bite me :P

It was still in the forest. Snow blanketed the ground as far as the eye could see and even the trees were smothered in the white powder. The air was almost still enough for the forest to seem empty, but birds still chirped, and the sound of paws crunched on the not long fallen snow. Thick plumes of air rippled from the nose of the creature slinking through the forest on this still morning. A wolf, not often seen alone, walked cautiously. It was clear that this creature was in a sorry state, ribs showing through a pelt that wasn't as thick as it should be. Gaunt was the only word that came close to describing the look that this wolf had. A long muzzle led the way up towards a dainty face, the white of the pelt making the snow almost a pale imitation.

Golden and blue eyes gleamed with hunger, cheeks of white yet forehead and ears of black merely highlighting the unusual colour which hinted at a not so pure wolf background. A soft whimper left the silvery white throat which had only a splash of colour, the black which formed a teardrop upon the unfortunate creature. The lithe frame left no doubt that this wolf was, in fact female, and the fact that such a feminine creature was not just alone, but alone and in such a state was a shock. A soft shiver ran along the back of the female, the markings there as unusual as the eyes which held anything living captive. From the tips of her perked, alert ears to her tail she was covered in fur which was ebony in colour, and even her front right leg was black, matched on the left of her hind legs. Everything else was covered in that silvery white pelt that covered her frame closely.

She slunk close to trees and under bushes, seeking for some kind of food though she faltered repeatedly in the deeper snowy areas. She was cautious, always scenting ahead of her with an almost paranoid intensity, pausing frequently with a single lifted paw, tiny compared to most of her species. She looked as though she had barely reached a year of life, when she had indeed spent a full four years upon the earth, her spirit lingering on despite the sadness of the soul, the fragile body which housed them both. Her eyes were fixed upon a cabin, made of logs and built securely. Windows were on every side, and a chimney had a slight stream of smoke which promised warmth trailing upwards into the air. The she-wolf had approached from behind, the doorway through which the inhabitant entered and left towards the north. There were two things she was focusing on, the log-pile which promised shelter from the harsh weather, and the aluminium cans which held leftovers and scraps uneaten.

Another cautious step forward for the wary she-wolf left her without any remaining shelter. A quick turn of the head and almost negligent sniff left her certain of being alone. She leapt forward, bounded upwards like a fox on a rabbit and soon she reached the logs. There was a gap, between the cabin and the pile which she could worm her too slim frame into and wait. She panted, her chest heaving with the exercise which had used up valuable energy she needed for survival. White teeth snapped up a mouthful of snow, and swallowed, going partway to sating the thirst she felt. When nothing else moved but the faint rustlings of birds in the trees, and far away the bark of a deer, it was time for her to move. She was smart, had had to be considering what she had just run away from.

She bellied her way out from the small depression she had hidden in, her flank brushing the log-pile and threatening to bring it down on top of her. She paused; her breath being held before she relaxed, and focused all of her attention on the trash can in front of her. That delicate sense of smell caught the scent of food, something her stomach demanded at that moment with a violent clench. She moved closer, tried to nudge the lid from it before growling softly, just a soft rumble of noise and the plume of smoke caused by her warm breath on the cool air. Moving quickly, she leapt at the can, aimed to land on a snowdrift, the lid rolling off but landing without any sound. With a sigh of relief, she moved to the front of the bin, and tore open the bag inside the bin in order to free the food.

She ate her fill of the pasta which filled her stomach quicker, provided her with energy before she rooted deeper inside and found the crusts of toast. All this food she knew, she had been fed things like it before. With her stomach now filled, she backs out of the bin carefully. Not a crumb remained on the ground, since she raided these bins frequently in order to eat. She never knew the creatures which resided within, since she had been captured by anthros she had shied away from contact with everything, wolves like her not excluded from being avoided. She sank her narrow haunches into the snow, and lifted her white hind leg to scratch at the remnants of her captivity, the collar which jangled around her throat. She had escaped from her 'owners', the second she had been dumped with since her removal from the wild.

The first had been kind, treated her more like a pet dog than the wolf she is, possibly because they had thought her to be a wolf-husky hybrid if not pure husky. They had kept her indoors, fed her decent meals and once they had taken her to the vets, had her vaccinated and even micro-chipped to their home. They had named her Singer, the name which made sense to them since she sang nightly, cried for the wild at first. It had been them to give her the collar she still wore upon her neck, them who had provided the tag which she still wore around her throat. She had been spoilt, had gained weight until she was almost what she would of been had she been a larger wolf. It was only when the alpha female of the owners, who was a spotted feline, had fallen pregnant that she had been given away.

The second owners had had no clue how to look after the homesick wolf. One was a rabbit, the other a small dragon, neither of which had a single clue how to look after even a goldfish. Since both worked, Singer was left chained to her kennel all day, only released after seven of an evening when she was fed before being walked and chained back up. Naturally she went off her food, and the dragon was the first to notice that his pet, the one he had hoped to breed from was listless, no longer eating. Worried, he brought home better cuts of meat, hoping to tempt the slowly wasting away wolf into eating but to no avail. Soon came the day when he decided he no longer needed to chain her, leaving her in the kennel while he worked. She wasted no time, escaping the fence and therefore returning to the wild with a single leap which left her weak and shaky.

The past was shaken from her mind as a jug of ice-cold water was thrown into her face, causing her to tumble backwards in surprise. A slightly shocked mouse, wrapped up in a robe shouted at her, brandishing a long black stick which smelt metallic. When she stood, panic-scent filled her nose and the mouse lifted it to his shoulder. Another shout, unintelligible to her made her take a single step back and then turn her tail to run. A soft 'phut' of sound reached her ears, before burning pain rippled her ribs. Another 'phut' and her rump held the same burning pain, which made her whimper and limp. Blood trailed behind her as she limped her way deeper into the forest, heading towards the only place she knew she wouldn't be hurt.

She was making her way towards another log cabin, this time one which looked a little more rundown. This one place was where she had made her home, since it was miles away from anyone else, asides from that one creature which lived inside. He seemed to be as solitary as she was, hiding from life by keeping to the deeper forest, leaving only for food. It was an armadillo which lived here, who seemed to work from home and had no mate. She often looked in the windows while he was working, and as far as she knew, she hadn't been noticed.

The further she went the less that pain began to distract her, both areas growing numb in the cold as her blood seeped behind her. A whimper rippled her body as she stumbled, her eyes slightly blurry around the edges as stood back up, confused. She couldn't remember what she had been doing, but the dim shape of the cabin inside fooled her. She headed on towards the doorway, a place she had never before approached and scratched on it before she collapsed. Surely the events of the past year had only been a dream, and her two beloved owners would open the door and make her feel safe again. With her whole body limp upon the snowy front porch, she didn't hear the exclamation, or feel strong arms lifting her and bringing her into the warmth.

A soft paw stroked over her ears, tender yet pausing as it catches on the collar which encircled her throat loosely. The armadillo rolled his fingers along the collar until he found the tag, and read the name, trying it out by speaking it into the air.

"Singer...must suit her." Everything about him was gentle, including the way he had removed the shotgun pellets from her side and flank then bandaged up the resulting wounds. He had kept every single pellet, his anger mounting as he counted a full twenty of the little iron things within the emaciated frame of the female wolf. He couldn't stop himself from stroking down her side, fingers lingering on the ribs which protruded with a small frown upon his forehead. Scales overlapped over his body, and the long claws which most of his kind had were filed down into blunt claws. He was dressed simply, in dark denim jeans and a red checked shirt, something which kept his softer furred chest and belly warm. "Where is your pack, little one? They should have kept you fed better than this unless..." A worrisome thought filled his head, made him anxious for the she-wolf. Who knew how long she had been a pet, how far she had been removed from her pack?

He kept caressing her head and shoulders, taking care to avoid the doubtlessly painful spots where she had been shot. A soft drowsy murmur came from the unconscious wolf, and he blinked himself to full awareness, having been dozing. He had had an idea for what to get the she-wolf, rising up to go get her some food. He busied himself in the kitchen, preparing something light for her stomach to handle. As he worked, he hummed, the sound soothing to the slightly awake she-wolf. He soon had scrambled egg whipped up, minus the milk so that she wouldn't suffer any problems. Leaving it cooling on the side, he moved back to the living room of his cabin, and smiled at the wolf, kneeling down and offering her a hand to sniff. She winced, visibly recoiled as she moved. Pain sparkled in her eyes before she whined. He stood quickly, and moved closer to her, murmuring softly. "Calm down little one, let me help you. I promise I won't hurt you even if you do bite me."

He moved slowly, stroking a blunt clawed finger along her muzzle and giving her an opportunity take note of his scent, to realise that he wouldn't hurt her. With one swift movement, he slipped both arms underneath her and stood, cradling that slight wolf body against his. With a quick movement, he stepped away from the couch, moving to the kitchen where he lowered her to the floor gently. Once she was placed on the wooden flooring, he moved to the protein rich egg meal he had prepared and lowered it in front of her, along with a bowl of water he quickly filled from the faucet of his sink. He sank onto the floor himself, his back pressed against the cabinets as he watched her eat.

She was almost finicky, taking small dainty bites of the fluffy eggs which would help her gain weight. It took her a while to finish eating, after which she began to drink the water which had been left for her. She wasn't greedy, had left a few morsels of egg in the dish he had given her. Even the water she had managed only a few laps of before she yawned. When he stood, she flinched, before slinking into the living room she had been in initially. She crept; painfully slow to the corner, where she coiled up, her head resting on mismatched paws. Eyes of golden and blue kept a close watch on the armadillo, and the lupine female only relaxed when the rescuing armadillo took a book and sat down, engrossed in the book.

With him preoccupied, the female wolf was free to explore the room with both eyes and nose, unable to move thanks to the wounds constricting her weak frame. She could see bookcases on every wall, every shelf filled with books that were worn with reading. She could see the computer from which he worked, something which she dimly understood about. Wolves had a greater intelligence than most knew about, and something which Singer often held to her advantage just as she had when she had escaped those second owners who had been so negligent towards her. She stretched out, stifling a whimper of pain with her paw.

She dozed, not noticing the almost fond looks that the armadillo was giving her dozing frame. Sleep was what she would need to heal, and heal fast so sleep he would let her. He carried on reading his book, a fiction by one of his favourite authors. Soon enough, he too fell asleep, the book upon his chest and his head pillowed by it. Soft snoring began to emerge from both wolf and armadillo, both relaxed beyond what they should have been, considering the fact that the she-wolf could have reacted as though the armadillo, though larger, was prey and attacked him by now. Singer slept in fits and starts, waking up more than once due to the pain from the gunshot wounds that plagued her with odd twinges of throbbing.

The last time that this occurred, she woke up fully, and stretched, a deep seated ache making her tremble. It was towards the armadillo she aimed her mismatched sights, her eyes narrowed slightly as she advanced on shaking legs. With a soft whine, a slight exhalation of sound which exited her nose more than her throat, her head met his foot. Once she had settled in such a position, she sighed, relaxing completely as dozed here. Her tail swept the ground in her sleep, made her murr, that canine purr which was most rumble.

She flickered her ears, sleeping catching her and taking her away into dreamland. It was from there that the nightmare overran her. Her paws kicked the ground and soft snarls rippled through her entire body as she remembered back to when she was a normal wolf, back to when she had a pack and to when she was Omega.

'Teeth met in the scruff of the pup, and savage shaking made blood spill down the ebony pelt of her neck. Ruby liquid soon stained the white of her throat, made her look as though she had a collar before she whimpered softly, her only complaint. A deceptively maternal coo was all the prewarned the dainty pup. She was dropped onto the ground, left to sprawl in pain and in a small puddle of her own blood. This abuse was something she had become accustomed to, something she had suffered with for the last three months, since she had opened her eyes and been rejected by her mother.

She hadn't even slept in the den for the last two months, being thrust out after being attacked by the mother who has some serious issues. A soft whine spilled from her muzzle, and when a tongue touched her neck she cringed, abased herself on the ground. It was only when the familiar scent hit her nose that she relaxed. It was the other female in the pack, her fathers sister, and the only one who had nursed her after being weaned. The soothing movements of the tongue, touching the cuts and cleaning them made her wriggle closer to that warm body. She was silent now, not needing to make noise now she was being mothered. Her eyes shot open, the left more blue than it would be in maturity, the right golden and gleaming, as she caught the scent of blood which wasn't hers.

Experienced teeth met against her shoulders, avoiding the wounds which still oozed blood and the diminuitive wolf pup went limp in order to be carried. She was moved back into the woods, from where she had been dragged earlier and this time hidden with greater care. Feeling safe, she leapt at her aunts chin, and yipped, digging her nose into the crevase of her lips. A retching sound came from the stomach of the large black wolf and she regurgitated food for the pup. As soon as that pup began to feed on the half-digested chunks of meat, a white blur struck the black pelted adult, knocking the pair flying as fur began to fly.

Her mother was fighting her aunt, and though her aunt was fighting back valiantly, blood was splashing the ground with greater frequency and in larger pools. The white pelt of her mother was pink with blood, red splits revealing flesh beneath the thick pelt. Her aunt soon lay still, the large black and silver frame of the pups father eased out of the shadows, gave the dead form on the ground swift glance before dismissing it. He bent his tongue to the slightly smaller body of his mate, cleaning the wounds with the same care her aunt had shown earlier. Once the blood was removed from the silky white pelt, a growling roar came from that stern shape before it charged at the dainty female. She yelped and flinched, a movement echoed in her sleeping frame. She was seized by the scruff, and flung along the ground, away from the dens by that veritable mountain of wolf who was her father.

She whined softly, not having the spirit left to fight against his treatment. He threw and herded her violently towards the woods, the area furthest away from her fallen aunt, and triumphant mad mother. It was as her father seized her skull in her jaw that her mind veered away from this point in the nightmare, and she awoke to feel blunt claws caressing her head. She cringed, abased herself against the wooden floor before she realised she was moving with a little more ease.

The fact that her flank and shoulder no longer numbed her mnd and body made her stroke her tongue almost shyly over his hand, her mismatched eyes of golden and blue almost glowing as she lifted her head and then nudged for more of those petting motions which made her feel special. The scales tickled her skin when they stroked her, but she sighed softly and just accepted the movements that were so akin to those which her first owners had used. A yawn split her muzzle utterly before she eyed the armadillo in confusion. Why would such a kind-hearted critter live out here alone? She mentally shrugged, before leaping onto the couch beside him and resting her tail over her nose.

It was plain to the armadillo that she was nervous to sleep again, so he resumed humming, the sound lulling that dainty framed she-wolf. A soft whine spilled from her throat before she stretched out, wriggling to rest her head on his thigh and gaze upwards at him. Those mismatched eyes held nothing more than trust for him, a trust she was hard-pressed to show after the life she had had, yet something about this scaled male made her believe that he could build her trust up once again.

She wriggled a touch, and flinched, her eyes shutting as pain welled through her body. She had leant on the side that had been filled with pellets, which made her gasp and tremble a little before she slid off the couch. She decided to look around, since resting would only cause her to stiffen up, make it harder to survive when she was kicked to the wild again. Limping a little, she stared around noticing the worn red couch, the rugs which were tattered and the lack of many of the gadgets that most furs had in their homes. Again she struggled to understand why not, but it wasn't for her to pursue - even if she was able to.

Her nose wrinkled as she caught scent of a canine, a dog. It was clear to her that he has owned a dog in the past, that scent of male dog catching in her nose and making her sneeze. She snorted afterwards, but didn't have a single vestige of the territorial behaviour most of her kind would exhibit. She made her slow way in to the kitchen, licking the last bits of now almost rubbery egg from the bowl and then finishing off the water in her bowl. She could smell meat, and though she was still hungry, she would not beg for more food.

The armadillo left her to it, lifting his laptop onto his lap and beginning to tap at the keys at such speed as to become calming to the flighty female. He was writing a book, his third one to date and all fiction, writing about a lion cub who ended up being a test subject for a game better than virtual reality. He soon sank into his typing, forgetting that the female wolf had been wandering but now was curled on his bed, relaxing. A sigh rippled his chest as he finally blinked burning eyes, and turned towards the kitchen, listening. He groaned as he stretched, yawning widely as the pain in his back became more pronounced. "Singer, here pup, where are you?" When no click-clacking paws met his hearing, he stood, worried for the fragile she-wolf. What if she had succumbed to shock? Or had escaped to go and die? He would never forgive himself if that were the case.

He looked at the clock, and realised that more than four hours of the day had passed, and day had slipped truly into night now. Hunger had stopped him from writing, but now worry kept him from filling his gurgling, starved stomach. He wandered into the kitchen, noted the empty water and food bowls and smiled briefly, before making his way to the bathroom. That too was empty and he got anxious, making his way to the last room in the cabin he lived in. His room was the largest in the house, a king-sized bed the centre piece in the whole room. Emerald green sheets covered the large sleeping area, a brown and red rug lay along the bottom of the bed. A small bookcase adorned the wall, filled with books that while well read, were in better condition to the others in the living room. A bedside cabinet had upon it a small pair of reading glasses, a lamp and a book with a bookmark currently holding his place in the favoured book.

The one feature his eyes fixed on, however, was the small frame of the wolf. She had made a nest for herself in his blanket, curled up inside the folds of emerald green which highlighted the silvery white, and stood out against the ebony which was the rest of that gloriously coloured pelt. She was sleeping, of that he was sure and it made him smile fondly. She looked adorable, like a puppy playing where they weren't meant to. Another hungry grumble of his starved stomach made him back out slowly, and then turn back towards the kitchen. His dinner wouldn't take long, but he decided that making the next days meal now would be good, would soothe him before sleep.

He would have the same meal as the she-wolf tonight, scrambled egg but this time with milk, salt and just a tiny sprinkle of garlic powder, not to mention hot buttered toast. While the toast was under the grill, he chopped up chicken finely, and put it into a large pot upon his stove. Potatoes he quickly peeled and again chopped up into small pieces. The meat and potatoes were soon joined by peeled and diced carrot, sweetcorn and parsnip. Mixing up a gravy, he again added some garlic, enough to flavour the meat through before putting it on the lowest heat able to be used.

His meal quickly devoured, he filled up the water bowl for the she-wolf and stretched. He took time to drink a glass of water before he yawned, and carried the water towards his bedroom. A yawn split his mouth open before he made his way carefully to the room. The bowl of water is placed beside the doorway, before he slid into bed. A gentle tug on the cover allowed some of it to cover him, and he sighed as he turned over, switched the lamp off and slept the sleep of the kind-hearted. He was a deep sleeper, his paw finding its way to the fur of the she-wolf curled up beside him, providing him with the warmth he had long missed beside him.

She was the first to wake, having slept far too long and deeply for a wolf, though she felt better instantly. Every wolf healed fast, and despite her lack of body weight, she was no exception. Her body was a little stiff, something which was obvious with the way she rolled to her side before standing on the bed. From her position, she stopped, one paw lifted as she caught sight of the armadillo who had clearly saved her life by taking her in and feeding her so kindly. She lowered her head and rasped her tongue across his cheek before leaping from the bed, landing almost silently and moving towards the kitchen.

Such a glorious scent was brewing in that place, hunger making her stomach muscles clench, making her stomach complain loudly with the need to be filled. For now she silenced it the way she knew best, by drinking the water left within her bowl. She had other needs now to take care of, so she began to whine at the kitchen door, the sound increasing in pitch until she heard a soft voice grumble. "All right, all right i'm up. Just hold your horses." Her tail swayed as she heard him padding towards her, and she began to scratch at the door to highlight her need. As his paw brushed over her head, she turned it and buried her muzzle against his thigh. As a waft of icy cold air wafted over her skin, she padded out slowly, looking backwards over her shoulder as he watched sadly, having enjoyed spending time with her.

She moved deeper into the forest, in order to do what she needed to do before padding away to circle the cabin. Without approaching the windows, she could hear the sound of the lonely armadillo, who shouldn't live alone but did. Once standing and moving like a ghost across the snow, she saw inside. Her ears splayed as she saw him just huddled on the couch, wrapped in a blanket with his eyes closed. Her mind was made up in that instant. She stretched and howled softly, the sound almost sad at the same time as filled with fresh hope for the future.

With sure movements she made her way back to the same door she had exited from minutes before and scratched at it. She was unprepared for the surge of emotion that made her prance and him smile when he answered the door, fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, his paws petting her sides and his nose brushing her neck as he snuffled against her neck. "Welcome home, Singer, you are free to come and go as you wish. This will be your home as much as mine." A soft whimpering sigh of sound, followed by the sound of her tail wagging in a frenzy were all that remained of the winter scene, a wolf now home...an armadillo no longer lonely.