FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

A kingdom sat beneath darkened wastes and wilderness, a kingdom that welcomed all into its embrace. Hallownest was its name. You simply needed to find the little town of Dirtmouth hidden between a valley and a mountain in order to begin your journey into the kingdom. Lanterns emitting a white glow lit the way down into the town where dust had gathered over the rounded buildings. A few of them had seen better days and the old stag station that would have transported travelers to near anywhere in the kingdom had been shuttered off by hard metal gates. The well that led into Hallownest itself was chipped around the edges, moss growing along the sides creeping up and into the well. There were no joyous villagers to welcome those into their town, no knights or guards to ferry those who wished to go down into the domain of Hallownest. Only the ash and dust remained with a few select individuals wandering beneath the lantern lights living their lives as best as they could while ignoring those who chose to wander down the well. What was one more fool with dreams clouding their eyes? Nothing to gawk at. Nothing to care about. Hallownest had once been a gem beneath the wastes promising safety and prosperity for all but now it attracted a different sort; treasure hunters and gloryseekers.

The well from Dirtmouth fell into a forgotten crossroads. A patchwork of caverns and highways leading all around built with rounded rubble and metal signs that pointed the way toward different locations in the once beautiful kingdom. There were no visitors. No cheery merchants or travelers wandering about. Only strange individuals that might have once been those things but now were simply meandering oddities with eyes glowing orange and bodies twitching toward an unknown sight.

A stranger descended from the well wearing a gray cloak made of old molt and a mask of white. The chain descending into the forgotten crossroads rattled as he slid down before all noise ceased as he dropped. He looked from left to right once he landed on solid ground before wandering toward the left with his weapon out. A needle; a slender and long piece of tempered ore with a sharpened point and two edges. His was an old one, gray and even cracked in a few places but it had served him well over the years. For the most part, he avoided confrontation with the orange-eyed bugs and kept to himself while searching through the rubble. Fences made with tough ore sprouted here and there with black pointed tips that he touched every so often as if wondering if the scrap would be worth something but he knew better.

Treasure was what he wanted. Treasure that would twinkle in the light and catch the eye. Boons that would bring interest and desire. Money would be fine, currency was always fine but a kingdom like this brought more than simple riches. He could feel the weight of the kingdom itself bearing down on him as if it were still alive and breathing as if the souls of those that had been lost were glowing brightly. It was just a remnant, however, but he knew that there was something deep within waiting for him. A prize worth risking his life.

He continued on until he found himself at a chamber stopping at an edge. Over said edge was a chasm where platforms were held on blackened chains, a few of those chains descending ever deeper and deeper into what he had to assume was the actual kingdom itself. From out of his cloak he took out a map. A rather bored female insect had sold him an incomplete scribbling that her husband had drawn but it was enough to tell him where he was and that he needed to go deeper in order to reach the actual kingdom itself. That was where his treasure would be, and that was where he would earn the most. Or perhaps he'd find the most danger.

Bastille could not help but chuckle quietly beneath the mask. A bit of humor in dire situations was always a nice little thing. It made the encroaching atmosphere of the dying kingdom around him feel less oppressive and brushed aside the odd orange light he could see at the edge of his vision. Whatever had taken the kingdom could very well come for him as well as it had those other insects with their glowing eyes. They didn't seem to be quite in their right minds anymore as if infected by malevolent fungus. Except, he didn't see the signs of that infection. Instead, they seemed perfectly normal physically. Some of them had lunged at him wildly proving that they weren't normal but these wandering corrupted insects did not warrant violence, instead, he had opted to avoid them and feel pity instead. With a breath, he put the map away into the pockets of his cloak and leaped into the mists of the chasm to continue downward.

The white light of the lanterns still flickered quietly, the roads and paths still maintained well despite the signs of neglect showing. Smoothed metal pathways with laid and shaped stones. Oh, how the travelers must have stood in awe of the creation. There weren't that many places out in this land with such finery. On his way, he found a few chests. Some of them had been cracked open while others were simply tucked away. Most of them had the currency of the kingdom in them. Spiraling stones that were called geo and of course he pocketed what he could but it wasn't enough. Spare change could only give him so much when the possibility of real treasure existed. Glittering artifacts, rare gemstones, and objects infused with the life of the kingdom itself. So far, he had found nothing worth being excited over but he had not expected to find anything in these odd roads. There was, however, a hidden chamber beyond a wall with a singular chest that looked more ornate than the others. The wall itself had seemed normal until he had touched it and watched it glow white before fading away, and the chest now sitting in the room held that very same glow around it along with an unfamiliar sigil.

As he approached the chest, he stopped as he saw a needle flashing through the air embedding itself into the ground just before the chest. There was something shimmering in the air behind the needle but he didn't have time to see as the owner descended and took hold of the hilt. A cloak of scarlet surrounded her body making him think of a tuft of fire. She stared at him with eyes of black on a horned head covered in white shell and her fingers gripped the needle to pull it from the ground before she pointed it toward him. He could not help but note the loop at the hilt of the weapon, a loop that made him curious for just a moment before he heard the stranger begin to speak.

"Scavenger. Are you not satisfied with what you've lined your pockets with? Must you further desecrate this kingdom and endanger yourself?" She asked without hiding her hostility.

Bastille kept his stance neutral as he answered carefully, "There's always more to be had in a place like this. The risk is part of the job."

He heard her practically spit, "This place will tear you apart if you are lucky. Surely you've seen the ones with orange eyes who wander without a thought in the world until they see you? That very same corruption could claim you and your journey would end as a mindless puppet."

Instead of taking her warning and feeling fear, he touched his chest and felt warmth as he sighed, "Thank you for your concern. It really does warm my soul but I'll be fine. Whatever light pulls them in won't catch me and whatever dangers await I'll be able to avoid. I'd rather not fight but just be on my way."

Her needle lowered for a second before she cut through the air and took a stance, "I doubt that you are able to handle yourself and I cannot allow you to freely feast on the corpse of this kingdom. One last warning; turn around and be gone with what you have or face me."

He had not expected a fight and did not enjoy the idea of fighting someone who had enough compassion to give him a warning but he readied his needle and said nothing else. No name had been given, but she attacked as soon as she saw that he had ignored her warning. She lunged toward him needle first as if she were flying and he darted to the side to let her pass before he saw that she had indeed been floating off the ground. He brought his own needle up in time to parry her blow as she stopped, turned, and swung at him, catching him nearly off guard. Bastille had expected her to continue with her momentum but she had turned like a dancer with a sudden and fluid motion that did not befit the strength of her blow ringing against his needle. The weight of her blow was fierce! Her speed was something to behold but the strength of the strike had been enough to send him and his old needle back a few steps as she jumped away. In the air, she stopped and again he saw the shimmer this time surrounding her, and again he had little time to take note of it.

That scarlet flame dove toward him with her needle held out like a stinger and he hopped back just as the needle plunged into the ground. She pulled it free and lunged again, stabbing the air as he began to move and weave along with her. He ducked and swung, parried her thrusts, and moved in for his own before needing to get away as she leaped and planted a firm kick to his shoulder. When she landed, she rushed forward and their needles met, both of them adjusting their stances trying to get the better of the other. They were locked together for only a few moments before she jumped away and again he expected her to lunge after him but instead, she threw her needle. It came much faster than he expected and he barely got out of the way, the material of his cloak whipping against him.

As her weapon began to fly back to her, he caught sight of the shimmer again and brought his needle up to catch whatever it was. Her needle bounced off of his as she pulled it back before continuing toward her but that little movement had been enough for him to see the silk. He could even see it clearly now as his opponent needed to redirect her needle back to her hand in an odd arc since he had struck the line. As he stood there, he rubbed his chin and tilted his head crunching a few numbers.

"Confused by the sight, or has something else distracted you?" She said from her perch.

He chuckled and shook his head, "I'm just wondering how much all of that silk would sell if I collected it in a spool. I couldn't even cut it!"

She scoffed, "Is your life worth so little that you would dream of such things while in the middle of combat?"

When he thought to answer, she came down again with her needle. He backed away and expected her to do the same but this time she rushed him. She thrust and he batted her needle away before finding himself having to twist to do it again. He couldn't just stay on the defensive forever and so he swung as they clashed, as he avoided her blows and attempted his own. Swing and thrust, push and pull. Their battle continued, their dance maintained near the center of the room until he felt something odd brushing along one of his arms. Thin and strong, something that strained at the material of his cloak and bit into it, and bit into his arm the more he remained. He broke free of the melee and darted away just in time as a set of silk threads began to lash around his opponent. Instead of fleeing, he started before the barrage of wires ended and put out his needle. Though she seemed unphased, he could feel the surprise in the expression on her body.

A jolt throughout her movements gave enough pause for him to slip through as the onslaught ended. She pulled her needle just in time to cross paths with his own but her arm was flung back from the force of his blow. One more thrust brought him forward and her own arm swung, and they found themselves at a stalemate of sorts. The tip of his weapon had pressed itself to her throat, while the blade of hers found a resting place at his shoulder and near his neck. She seemed ready to continue fighting, those dark eyes of hers seeming to twinkle as she gripped her needle tighter. Bastille responded in kind by gripping his own in much the same way. Slowly he sat down cross-legged and breathed aloud with his masked eyes peering up to the ceiling as he stabbed his needle into the ground.

"I thought you'd run me through a few times there. I can only assume you were holding back out of consideration for my well-being." Bastille sighed.

His foe flicked her needle to the side before stabbing it into the ground across his, perhaps in some sort of symbol of respect before she settled in front of him in a similar manner and sniffed, "What is your name, scavenging warrior?"

He chuckled and shook his head, "My name is Bastille, and yours?"

She stared at him for a few moments before shrugging, "Hornet."

"Well, do I have your blessing to continue my journey?" Bastille asked with a hum.

Again she stared before she looked away and began slowly, "I'd rather you just leave. You'd be even more dangerous corrupted by whatever has taken everyone else and I do not want to see this kingdom desecrated, although, perhaps it is too late for that. Even still, I will protect this place as best as I can." She then looked toward him and tilted her head, "Tell me, for what reason do you need riches?"

From his cloak, he pulled free a glass bottle containing a liquid hued by amber and honey. He popped it open and lifted his mask enough to drain a mouthful of the spiced sweetness before he offered it to her. Once she took it tentatively, he breathed out, "I am just looking to survive. At one point in my life, I made medicine and tinctures for those who would want it but another path found me and so I took up the needle and began searching for my fortune."

Hornet hummed, "Why not return home and continue your trade?"

As she took a careful sip, Bastille muttered, "There's not much to return to. I hope to someday fix that."

His hollow words seemed to strike her as she paused mid-pull before bringing the bottle carefully down to cough, "Stronger than I imagined..." She then looked away, her words said slowly, "What happened to your home?"

Bastille chuckled as she offered his bottle back, and he took it to cap it and put it away within the pockets of his cloak, "Curious aren't you? And yet you've said nothing about yourself."

She scoffed, "And why do I owe you my story?"

He brought his hands together once and hummed, "And so you have my answer."

Hornet stared at him plainly before looking down and it almost seemed that she had been scolded, a student reflecting on her actions as she kept quiet for a few seconds before answering quietly, "I apologize. I recognize that I was over-eager in my curiosity and I should not have pressed you as such, nor been as critical in my response."

Bastille shook his head, "Ah, it is past us already. What is a mistake or two between good friends?"

She looked up while tilting her head, "Good friends?"

"Of course!" He said while opening his arms, "We've shared the kiss of a bottle! That is the first step to becoming quick friends when traveling. And we haven't killed each other, that's the second and very important step."

Hornet stared at him and he almost thought that his teases would earn another tongue lashing but instead, she began to giggle quietly, her hand hanging under her mouth as she sighed, "Friends, huh? I suppose I can accept that."He watched as she got up and retrieved her needle before pointing it toward the chest, "I've decided to help you find something worth your time. A gift instead of something stolen. Take what you find in the chest and I'll lead you to where you need to go. Not all the way but enough that you should be able to find your own way if you truly are as capable as I think you are."

Bastille got up with a grunt and pulled his own needle from the ground before going to check the chest. He placed a hand on the mechanism near the front and the top cracked open, the white light dispersing. There was geo inside but what he took from the confines was something else. He brought up an egg-shaped stone with a jeweled crest engraved onto it. When he turned to thank Hornet, she was already walking out of the chamber. He supposed he would have to thank her whenever he saw where they were going, and so Bastille followed along.

To call her a knight or warrior would perhaps be an insult. He watched her move quietly with an air of grace and she avoided confrontation as much as he had. Hornet had been fierce in battle but even then her movements had almost seemed like a practiced dance. Well trained and bred well. He almost wanted to ask her if she was some fallen nobility of this kingdom but as he had not wanted to answer questions about his past, he doubted that she would want to speak of the recently deceased if she were related to them.

Together, they doubled back through the crossroads and that chamber with hanging platforms with chains. They ascended into another route and on occasion she would turn toward him to beckon him. She darted and waltzed forward without much of a problem but he ambled on at a steady pace regardless of her misgivings. It was difficult to hurry in a place he wasn't accustomed to, not because he couldn't reach where she was moving but simply because he wanted to be careful. He also could not help but admire the sights. The chipped architecture of a road leading to many places, the raised metal fences and doors that eventually led into a pathway that took them into another world entirely. It was beautiful and oddly sad all at once.

Greenery sprouted everywhere and caught him off guard. He raised his head and looked all around as he walked, the sound of rushing water taking his sight as he took note of the falls lapping over stones in the distance. A metal bench sat near the center of this path with a lamp held on an ornate spire. Hornet waited by the bench while looking toward the falls before her attention turned toward him. She didn't tell him to hurry, didn't motion for him, instead, she slowly looked back at the waterfalls and waited.

He moved to stand next to her to take in the sight while muttering, "A beautiful place. Hallownest must have been quite the sight to behold."

"Not long ago, I would have felt nothing but pride and joy to bring you along this path. To pull you toward the center of this kingdom but now I only feel cold. This wound will heal but even then, Hallownest may remain broken." She said quietly.

Bastille stood at her side and inclined his head as a show of respect while she watched the falls. He heard her start moving again and he followed along not minding the quiet, and not minding her lack of words. There were many dangers in this place compared to the forgotten crossroads. Corrupted insects burrowing out of the ground seeking to bite and gnash, some of them with spines growing from their bodies, and others that emitted a strange gas when felled. Hornet hurried him on a bit more this time and he followed along as they made their way through the area. That being said, he couldn't help but stop on occasion.

There were flowers and herbs hidden among the foliage, fungus as well that he remembered that could be used as ingredients. Some of them had strange markings that made him throw them away but others that seemed in good condition he would pluck or cut to put into a pouch before continuing on. Hornet didn't express annoyance when she noticed him stopping, and at one point she knelt down next to him to watch him carefully collecting a type of fern.

When he noticed she was watching, he quietly began, "The roots of this plant can aid in healing. Particularly for swelling joints when mixed into a broth of a kind. I'll have to examine a lot of these more closely later on as I notice that strange orange corruption on a few of the plants. Consuming it, no doubt, would be no good and anything mixed with them would more than likely cause some unintended side effects."

Hornet touched the petal of a nearby flower and hummed, "Tell me about what you see on this trip of ours. I'd like to hear."

He tilted his head but said nothing for now as they both rose to continue their journey. Bastille remained quiet until he saw something of note; a medicinal herb or something more toxic, and he would detail quietly how he would use it before moving on. There were a few things that he had her help him collect, a few things that turned out to be strange creatures in disguise, but they kept moving at a steady pace all while he filled the air with his voice. It felt odd being the only voice but Hornet seemed at peace with it. In fact, she seemed to be relaxing quite a bit. She kept her needle ready but it was lowered and her eyes remained on him as he spoke. On his part, it did feel nice sharing in old knowledge again but he couldn't help but feel like he was blabbing on a bit. At a certain point, they got to a nexus in which there were several different paths, one leading downward and the other on a ledge above.

Checking his map at the edge, he could see that the city he wished to go to was deeper within. Hornet stood next to him and breathed out, "I thought to leave you here to your own devices and test you but I've grown fond of the sound of your voice. It has been long since I've been taught, long since I've been lectured and told something. I've found myself relaxing, found myself losing my edge, and needing to bring back my guard as danger surprises us. It is strange that a learned bug like yourself needs to resort to scavenging but I won't push you for your reasons."

Bastille looked toward her as he rolled the map and as he tucked it away he chuckled, "I can't tell if you're annoyed with my presence or if you've enjoyed it thoroughly."

"Both," Hornet said simply before leaping into the abyss.

He looked down uncertainly for a second before he followed along. Hornet continued to be a steadfast guide, though he suspected that she had meant to test him further by leaving him behind. Why she had not done that, he wasn't quite sure, but they continued traveling together and he didn't really mind that at all. What changed now was that she asked him questions and told him things without much prompting. She remarked on the place that he now knew as Greenpath and how it reminded her of the Queen's Garden. Plants and poisons became her area of interest, as well as the rare thing he saw that could be concocted into a bomb. She also asked if there were any plants that could cure corruption such as the odd light permeating through Hallownest and sadly, he did not have an answer for that one.

They made their way through an area he had much less good to say about next. An area permeated with fungal growths that all spelled danger. He barely wanted to breathe the stuff in but Hornet had promised him that nothing would happen as long as they moved quickly, and for the most part, they did. Bastille had never seen living fungus before in his entire life but there were creatures that were not made of flesh that simply sprouted out of the ground and wobbled along. Some of them were violent while others seemed to be aimless. He couldn't help but feel a bit squeamish around fruiting fungus while having seen the effects of the parasitic kinds firsthand. That being said, their trip through the Fungal Wastes ended at an unexpected locale. A village.

Hornet told him to wait for a moment near the entrance while she addressed the guard, a mantis standing tall with claws folded but eyes peering past her and toward Bastille. She returned after a short conversation and muttered near his head quietly, "The mantis tribe approves of me and will allow you as my guest as long as you can best the guard. Normally, you'd have to face their leaders so be glad of this boon."

He tilted his head and looked toward her before looking at the hulking figure of the mantis guard unfolding its scythe-like claws. Dryly, he commented, "Thank you."

Bastille swore he heard something like a chuckle from her as he made his way to the guard. He brought his needle outward and inclined his head and was surprised to see that the mantis returned the gesture. When they both rose to full height, the mantis made the first move. A swing in a wide arch that he found himself needing to leap as those scythe-like claws cut through the air and marked the ground where he had been standing. The other claw lashed out and he swung his needle in return and bounced back when claw and weapon bounced. As he landed, he rushed forward and under another swipe before cutting up at the mantis' chest. The armored chitin received a new mark but the mantis scurried back on multiple legs before coming back swinging in a flurry of blows. He hopped back and continued to avoid the mantis before jumping over it.

A fatal mistake to many. He heard even Hornet gasp as the mantis turned to swing at him. Bastille breathed out and let his wings unfurl to beat once and take him backward, his cloak wrapping around him tightly as the wind pulled him away from danger. As he landed, he spread his wings and white light carried him forward fast enough to catch the mantis off guard as his cloak spread apart. Its claws found nothing but the ground as it swung them downward and he ended the bout with his needle pressed to a softer part of the mantis beneath it rather than its chest. The mantis folded its claws and bowed slowly to mark the end of the duel.

He stepped back and lowered his guard while breathing out as Hornet wandered toward his side, "It seems you had more to show me."

Bastille found himself smiling beneath the mask as he shook his head, "I'll show you everything you want to see from me in due time but for now I'd like to find a place to sit."

Hornet extended her hand to touch his shoulder through his cloak, squeezing a bit before moving ahead of him. With that, he was given admittance to the Mantis village. It was a place of wood and bone, of strange materials and platforms with a few homes here and there. The mantis themselves were tall, and many of them appeared as if they did not like the sight of them. However, there were one or two that bowed to him and of course, he bowed in return. He had been expecting Hornet to take them through and out of the village but instead, Bastille found himself standing in a room with two beds.

"I thought you could use the rest." Hornet said as she leaned her needle against the wall near the entrance.

Bastille placed his own near hers as he stepped inside while looking around, "Huh, I didn't think we'd ever have a room to ourselves in this place. Speaking of, I'd be fine sleeping outside if you'd like your privacy."

For a moment, he thought she might take him up on the offer as she brought her arms out of her cloak to cross them while tapping her carapaced cheek with a raised hand. Instead, she hummed, "Are you saying that you would do something that would require me to value my privacy?"

He coughed and shook his head, "Not at all."

Hornet got onto her bed and sat on it cross-legged leaving her shape obscured entirely by her cloak as she sighed, "Too bad."

Too bad? What an odd response. Unless she wanted him to try something? Closing his eyes he reached into his cloak and pulled out the glass bottle they had shared. He opened it before taking a quick pull. When he opened his eyes he offered her the bottle and she took it to down what was left of the mixture. Bastille watched her before pulling off his mask to let it rest at the side of the bed, teal eyes and fuzzy antenna revealed.

When she saw his uncovered visage, she commented quietly, "A moth. You're a rare kind around here."

He pulled another bottle from his cloak and opened it to take a long pull before sighing to the air, "My relatives can be a bit odd but I admit that I was hoping to see at least one around here."

Hornet set the empty bottle down and took the fresh one when offered and after she took her pull she hummed, "Am I not enough?"

Had the fermented concoction already gotten to her head? That wasn't possible, her tone seemed fine and she'd only had a few mouthfuls. Finally, he decided to play along and respond, "It is nice to see my own kind now and then, to hear what they have to say and what dreams they see but I will admit, you are the most beautiful thing I've seen of this kingdom so far, so I don't feel any remorse having not seen my kin."

For a moment she raised the bottle as if she were going to take another drink before she instead offered it to him. When he touched the glass, she muttered, "In battle, I am near unmatched. I have been taught in so many ways but I find myself slipping in this game. I keep thinking that I should act coy, that I should tempt you into it but I am nowhere near as graceful as I am in battle. At least, not in this respect, so let me be blunt. Would you like to share a bed?"

Bastille would have dropped the bottle if she hadn't been holding onto it. To be frank, her direct approach was still somewhat lacking compared to what he had experienced in his time but he still had not quite expected it. She didn't seem the type and yet, how many chances had she had during this troublesome time? He could tease her about it a little bit, he could play with the notion a bit aloud and try to get a more direct confirmation about her but there was something in her expression that had seemed to change, a touch of peach to her face if he wasn't imagining it. Was she blushing? Did he see her fidgeting? Bastille did notice her fingers twitch as he took the bottle away, as he set it down by his bed, and looked toward her.

Why not? He was tired and had spent enough time alone that her company had been more than welcome. Wandering from kingdom to kingdom, from little settlement to settlement often did not leave him time to enjoy the more carnal things in life. Bastille shouldn't spurn such an opportunity and so he got up while humming joy, as his pointed digits plucked away the binding keeping his cloak together before he let it fall to reveal his nude form. A crest of dark fur around his neck with the rest of him touched by gray spotted with a lighter teal than his eyes and wings. Between his legs grew his answer to her question and desire, and he waited until her gaze was on it to begin moving to accept her offer.

With his idea of her being nobility, he took what should have been the first step in courting her and bowed while extending his hand. As she laid her hand on his touch and he planted a kiss atop of it, she muttered, "I don't know whether to be annoyed that you presented me with such boldness before pretending to be noble or if I should find it humorous."

He kissed her hand again before letting his touch drift up her arm and through her cloak, digits brushing along her bare shoulder as he spoke, "I can take my time to enjoy your offer."

She leaned back on the bed, her body shuddering as his fingers began to brush along her chest as she breathed out, "I thought of you as a common vagrant and thought it would be nice to pit myself against that. Here I see again that you prove me wrong but I suppose I should let you know that you have my permission to act like a vagrant. There is no court watching, none of pure blood and make who seek to understand if you've made all the correct steps before taking me." And quieter she added, "So do as you please."

The offer had a certain edge and charge to it that warmed him to the soul. He moved to plant a knee on the bed while he took his hands off of her. Bastille tugged at the hem of her cloak and brought it up. He stopped when the wrap was near her neck, stopped when he could easily pull it off just to let their mouths meet. A gentle peck, a little kiss that seemed to catch her off guard as she made a quiet noise like a chirp, a chirp that drifted into a hum as he kept his mouth against hers. He remained rooted to her like that, allowing their warmth to be shared as he pressed closer to feel her chest against his own.

Bastille kept her cloak held up with one hand, but the other drifted between her legs to let his fingers begin exploring. One digit slid along her heat before dipping inside, before twisting within causing her to tremble against him. He heard a muffled moan escaping their embrace of lip to lip and he dipped his finger in deeper. She was already wet, already warm, and ready for him to plunge inside. It was true then, she had been hoping that he was a vagrant who would plunge himself into her body without thought. It would be difficult to resist doing just that. When he let their kiss part, he pulled his fingers out of her and helped her out of her cloak fully as he leaned back.

There sat the lithe figure of the gem of this fallen kingdom. A strong figure touched by smooth hide and black carapace, thighs displaying a strength that he had felt in her blows. Her chest rose and fell as if she were out of breath, and it did wonders to show off her breasts. It seemed that his staring, that his admiration had inspired something in her, or perhaps her patience had simply worn thin. She brought her hand down low to grab onto the base of his member, squeezing gingerly encouraging it to grow until he could feel the throbbing sign of his full arousal pulsing in her grip.

"Sorry that I'm taking my time. I just wanted to admire what I stole." He said in purrs and chirps near her cheeks.

The fingers at his shaft twitched before she huffed, "Don't say it like that. You have not stolen anything as this kingdom remains my home, and remains the place I will stay."

Bastille moved to touch her hips, fingers trailing to her thighs where he gripped as he shoved his chest against her own to urge her onto her back. As she remained steadfast against his pushing, he added quietly, "But a vagrant would try to steal you, to desecrate you. Isn't that right?"

She placed a hand on his shaft and her grip on his shaft tightened a bit but she began to lean back while muttering, "So here are your true colors. Show me more."

Mouth to her neck, he nipped. He nipped and bit carefully, pushing against her further and further. Grinding against her hand as he continued to encourage her onto her back while his hands felt over her outer thighs and up to her sides. She uttered a quiet sigh as he let his tongue out of his maw to lap along her neck and down to her chest, her back finally touching the bed and her legs spreading for him immediately. The fingers that had been on his shaft moved away to feel around his back along his fingers, another hand soon joining them as she embraced him without concern.

Bastille took hold of his own heat to ease it against her slit, to push and press against her warmth to start teasing her entrance rather than dipping in immediately. He wanted to savor this for a bit more before acting like she wanted him to, before acting the way he really wanted to as well. His own heart and soul stirred with desire, burned with the need to press deep inside of her. What remained of his mind held him back from turning into a breeding beast and yet, there was something about the bug beneath him making it difficult.

Was it her touch at his back pulling him just a bit closer? Was it her hips rolling upward to grind his shaft against her warmth? Or perhaps it was her sighs and purs threatening to erase his mind? Regardless, he took his time and kept on grinding away his senses until he could stand it no longer. Mouths connected in a firm kiss, his hand moving to touch her cheek. Smooth and cool under his touch with a sort of warmth that kept on growing with the embrace of their mouths turning more heated. Tongue to tongue, hips to hip, his shaft began to press inside of her now, to dip into those inviting shallows sticky with her desire.

With one thrust she pulled back to gasp aloud, to lie flat on the bed and look between them as if she wanted to see it happening. Inch by inch he pushed inside while grabbing onto her chest, a thumb along a nipple press and toying while he moved jerked his hips forward again and again to fit more of himself inside of her. The voice inside of him whispered for him to breed, for him to go wild, and at that point could see the orange light at the edge of his vision. Whatever that light had been seemed to be torn away by a flash of white, his eyes shutting as he leaned in to press his head against hers and thrust once more to fit every single inch of himself inside of her cunt.

Trembling beneath him, Hornet breathed out while her hands moved to rest on the bed, "Don't hold back."

It wasn't that he was holding back, more so, he was just going at his own pace and taking his time to enjoy what was happening. He could rush, he could start pounding inside of her, and that did sound appealing, but right now he just wanted to melt into her. Bastille eased back nice and slow before pushing forward again. He started to get into a steady rhythm as he felt her digits pressing against his chest. She remained still for now but it seemed that she would start making her own movements soon enough. Bastille could feel it in her shivering, could feel it in the way she hummed and almost seemed to whine.

Breathing out, he began to push a bit harder and began to move with more force and speed while he shut his eyes. The heat pulsing through his body willed him forward, willed him to sink into her and bury himself inside of that passionate heat that called for more of his power. Her hands were now at his arms almost as if she were urging him further, as if the steady increase in volume of her voice wasn't enough. Hornet's sighs and hums had turned to purrs and moans, her hips jerking on occasion to join in on his thrusting.

It was almost too much to resist right there. He could feel the possibility of himself slipping into languid bliss but he pulled his back upward, tightened his abdomen, and grunted as he kept his pace without blowing his load too early. Bastille opened his eyes when he felt her touch his cheeks, her fingers running circles there as he watched her look up at him with pure lust hidden behind the darkness of her eyes. In that darkness, he could almost see a light radiating deep within, one that he answered by leaning forward to capture her mouth for a few seconds for another brief but heated kiss.

When he pulled away, he could feel the sharpened points of her digits grazing down his arm as if she were trying to claw him as she breathed out, "You should have laid into me like this when you beat me. Taken your ill-gotten prize and the crest of this kingdom in one fell swoop. I was holding back but it would have been my mistake."

There was an edge to her words, a firm and heavy one that struck him in the gut but did not displease him. He shuddered and found himself thrusting faster, coaxed by her words as he wrapped his arms around her and brought her tight against his body while he rumbled, "You're just as bad, aren't you? Greedy for heat? Am I not the moth? Am I not the one attracted to the flame?"

He pulled away slowly as he felt her fingers along his chin, as he found the tips oddly sharp while she sighed, "I wonder if you know just how brightly you burn? Show me more, and I'll show you more of my greed. You don't even have to pull out."

Again he felt that coaxing, the humming inside of his body growing more violent as he doubled his efforts. To breed such a gem would be truly terrible, would truly be an affront to this kingdom if she were nobility, and even if she wasn't she was still something amazing to behold here in these ruins. The desire to do so was there, and he could even feel her strong legs around his waist ready to keep him in place. It seemed if he wanted to be responsible then he would have to best her and yet, the grip was loose. It was an illusion of a hold. Whether he pulled away or remained he found that the choice was entirely his and perhaps her legs were there as a way to give him an excuse. Everything about her was a temptation. The silken red of her cloak had been a sign that she was the last flame of this kingdom and he had indeed been drawn to her.

Every thrust carried him into her deepest spot. Every push threatened to release his desire inside of her and even that risk was enough to make him tremble as he struggled to hold himself back. Hornet only sighed and moaned, her chest rising and falling as she watched him and he had to wonder if she enjoyed watching him struggle with temptation, or if she simply would love whatever he decided on. Finally, he had to stop.

He planted his hands on her shoulders and breathed aloud while hanging his head, "I should pull out."

Hornet shuddered and looked up past him and to the ceiling as she muttered, "Just a bit more. Take it slow if you must but I need this warmth of yours for a little more."

It didn't take long for him to start doing that and as he did so, he chuckled while shutting his eyes, "Honestly, I didn't expect you to ask me to plant my seed inside of you. What would happen if it bore fruit?"

She hummed while rolling her hips upward, a sudden movement causing him to wince and open an eye to see something like humor on her shell as she spoke, "I suppose I would have found a good place for the egg. I know of one or two."

Somehow that had been too much for him. It hit his mind. The lust of her words, the lust of her suggestions, and the hunger gnashing deep within broke free. He pulled out and rolled her onto her front, Hornet gasping as he leaned forward to clutch her hands and pin her down while he mounted her like a wild beast. He humped and ground, pushed and thrust until he found himself all the way inside. The pulse of his shaft grew more violent, the pulse of his desire growing by the second as he felt the leak at the tip of his shaft continue to drip more and more. Bastille could have emptied himself inside of the moaning gem beneath him, he could have and even wanted to so badly, but instead he pulled out after feeling her insides gushing around his member, after feeling her tightness pull him over the edge.

He yanked out with a grunt and painted her dark rear, his hands shaking as he leaned back. One continued to pump his shaft while pointing at her trembling rear while the other rested at her haunches, holding her steady. After he finished, Hornet remarked with a quiet sigh, "You would really have bred me with that. Perhaps next time you won't be able to resist."

Bastille crawled into bed next to her to lie on his stomach once he finished, his arms crossed under his head as he hummed quietly, "Hm? A next time?"

Hornet laid flat on her stomach with her body pressed to his, with a hum pouring from her person that seemed to mimic his own, "It is difficult to keep vagabonds at bay."

He shut his eyes and chuckled, leaning against the warmth of the soul next to him. It didn't take long for sleep to find him and didn't take long before he felt her weight pressing against him. She was leaning against him fully in the bed, as close as possible, and one of his arms had moved to loop over her, to bring her as close as he dared while they rested beneath the pale light of the room in the mantis village. How long had it been since he had found himself peacefully slumbering with someone in his arms? It felt as if it had been ages, and perhaps it had been. More than a few months. More than a few years. It was almost tempting to stay to help with whatever cause Hornet had, and yet, he had his own life to return to, his own things to repair.

Bastille awoke feeling stiff and groggy. Oddly cold as well. He pushed himself up onto his side and blinked slowly to see that he was alone in bed. Stretching, he turned and rose onto his rear to bring his legs off of the bed. Her scarlet cloak and needle were gone but there wasn't a note and no sign of where she had gone. Getting up, he brought his arms up to stretch and winced as he felt the creaking of his body telling him that he might've needed a bit more in bed to make up for the long journey to Dirtmouth.

Just as he found his discarded garments, Hornet's voice came from the doorway, "Just now getting up? You sleep like a stone even when there is so much to be done."

He turned with a touch of joy on his expression as he spotted her in all her scarlet glory. When he opened his mouth, she tossed something toward him. It was something wrapped in a leaf and when he squeezed it a bit he commented, "A romantic meal before we get going?" When he looked up and saw that she wasn't laughing, he chuckled and shook his head, "Sorry, couldn't help but tease a little."

She brought a fist up to clear her throat as she looked away and added, "I thought of it as bold and out of turn but I wouldn't say I hated the tease. Eat and take your time but know that our journey will be safe as I've already scouted our route."

Bastille opened the leaf to find a mixture of mushrooms and nectar within. He wasn't thrilled with eating fungus after what he had seen but he took one into his mouth and chewed and swallowed before speaking, "If that's the case then our destination nears."

Hornet looked toward him and nodded, "That is the case. I'll show you where you will find your treasure and then we'll leave. It isn't a place that I want to linger in."

His meal was finished in no time at all, and soon he was joining Hornet at the door while checking his needle, "Then let's be off."

She looked down for long enough that he found himself wanting to ask if she was okay but she breathed out before he could say a word, "Let's."

And off she went at a brisk pace. He left her lingering alone and followed quietly. The inhabitants of the village bowed to them on their way out, but they continued without pause until they got to the edge of the village. A gate welcomed them into another stretch of the fungal wastes and they continued on in the same silence. He did not wonder if it was some sort of insult that he had put onto her, or if he should have done something differently, only because he figured that whatever was bothering her would come out eventually, or it would remain hers to keep forever.

Hornet only spoke when they got to a long metal bridge that spanned the length of a lake of bubbling acid beneath them. As their steps tapped onto the metal surface, she spoke aloud, "All bugs were welcomed into Hallownest. The King extended his invitation to the mantis tribe. They spurned that invitation and held tight onto their pride, and have outlived Hallownest but still, they guard the way to my other home, and still they keep this way clear as well."

"Your other home?" He asked quietly.

She tilted her head and hummed, "Where my mother lived. I only got to speak with her a few times but I learned much from her and the beasts that make Deepnest their home. To spin silk, to fight fiercely, and more. She dreams now for the sake of the Kingdom, to hold back the corruption."

Bastille allowed those words to remain in the air between them. He didn't have much of an answer, and couldn't fully understand what she had gone through or what she was going through but he would cherish the fact that she had decided to share a bit of herself with him. They both stopped once they got to a great statue waiting by a gate. Hornet touched the statue before letting her fingers drift to an indentation. He stood next to her and looked upon the massive figure of what appeared to be a knight.

"Great Knight Hegemol. One of the strongest of Hollow Nest's warriors. Where he is now, if alive or dead, I do not know but having him among us would bring an immeasurable joy to my soul." She then looked toward him, "Place the crest you found on that spot here."

She moved aside to let him take out the crest he had found in the chest so he could fit it in. He watched as the mechanism clicked into place and as the massive gate near them began to clank open, the sound of chains being pulled joining the noise of metal rising. Hornet breathed out and turned toward the open gate and strode through without another word, and he followed wondering if perhaps it was too late to say that he would be satisfied with simple geo.

What awaited them was an ornate pathway in a building made of smoothed stone and metal. There was still ruin here but he could see the beauty in it more than he could in other places. They continued to walk until they reached the edge where he began to hear the oddest sound, as if rain were falling. It was at that point that he could see it. Through the glass face of the building, he could see darkened raindrops falling from the sky down onto a massive city of buildings crowded together rising higher and higher as if they wished so desperately to bring themselves to the surface.

"Here it is. Our City of Tears." Hornet said quietly.

Finally, Bastille muttered, "Having met you, having seen this ruin for myself, and knowing that it is your home, I don't know that I could take anything precious from this place."

A chuckle echoed around them coming from Hornet as she shook her head, "Think of it as a gift. I've enjoyed our time Bastille, and just as I find myself wanting to go with you, I find myself asking if you would fight with me. No need to answer that."

Bastille remained at her side for some time as they stared at the rain falling, as they watched the remains of the once grand city weep. A lift bore them down to the ground floor where they found patrolling guards with their nails and shields still held proudly, but their eyes full of strange light. They moved like trained soldiers when fighting but right out of a book as if they could only mimic what they were remembering instead of applying it.

Together, they stepped out into the rain, and Hornet hurried along over gaps in a large courtyard with a massive fountain at the center with another large statue of a knight. This one wore a cloak and had a massive horned shell for a head similar to his companion. There were three other statues alongside it and Hornet stared at them all beneath the rain before he got to her side. She turned and moved, wandering toward the other side where another building awaited him.

She brought him onto another lift and looked up as they were taken higher until they got to a floor, unlike the others. There were beautiful pieces of furniture and metalwork all around, rooms that had been sealed alongside wandering bugs that appeared to be citizens of the city instead of soldiers. Hornet did not attack them and for the most part, those corrupted citizens ran away or flailed at them. Bastille followed suit and avoided them as best as they could until they got to a chamber.

Hornet sealed the door behind them and wandered deeper inside touching lanterns that began to spark with warm light illuminating a room full of velvet cushions and bedding. A chest lay against the wall where Hornet kneeled down to set her needle by it. As she opened the chest, she spoke aloud, "Your prize is right here."

He moved while looking around before his gaze fell on the contents of the chest. A spool of what appeared to be silk kissed by the light of soul lay there alongside a needle that appeared to be the reason for the chest's length. When he rose and opened his mouth to say that he shouldn't have either. Hornet took hold of the needle and brought it out to offer it to him.

"Hornet." He said while lowering his mask, "I can't."

She pushed the needle toward him with the tip pointed downward as she huffed, "That old needle of yours is chipped and cracked all over. You needed a better weapon. The silk is strong and infused with power that'll make any merchant swoon. Anything made with it would be precious. If I could fashion you a new cloak, I would, but I don't think you want to wait around for that and I don't think you'd want to get rid of your own."

Bastille set his mask down nearby alongside his old needle before taking the one offered to him in both hands. It felt lighter and yet, much sturdier. It also had a pale glow to it, a sort of refined sheen that made him think of a pure ingot of ore ready to be pounded out into shape. When he set it near her own to let it rest, Hornet had the spool of silk in hand. He took it gently and put it into the confines of his cloak before looking toward her. Again he found himself alone and in a room with a beautiful soul. A flame that had led him down into the ruins of this kingdom and had given him a gift instead of sending him out on his rear. It would attract eyes, and it would attract more than that with the glow it held, with the power he felt humming inside of it.

Fingers over the spool and over her hand, Bastille spoke quietly, "My home is a village beneath the ground far away from Hallownest. Greenery all around. We thought that our growing community would be safe there among the flowers, among the herbs, and loving sights. It was when we felt our safest that we were set on by a sole hunter. One by one we were lost. When there were no warriors left, I took up a weapon to fight but in the end, I was the only one who survived. I'll leave to that place to build something and I hope that someday you'll be able to see what I build, just as I look forward to seeing whatever you may salvage here."

Hornet watched him, her hands touching his face to feel his cheeks while she remained silent. They had shared their lives, they had shared their pain and drive. There would be time for more, another time. Both of them leaned in to let their mouths meet, a firm and warm kiss full of light that had his heart fluttering. The spool was set aside for now, left alone glowing in the dimly lit room as their focus turned to the flames of one another. Cloaks were removed and tossed to the side. Bodies pressed as close together as possible before Horney grabbed his wrists. She pulled him toward a set of cushions and brought him there nice and slow, each step another brushing of tongues and breath.

When he thought that she might sit, instead, she broke their kiss and turned with him to push his rear onto the bed and clap her hands onto his thighs while their eyes met. It was at that point that he noticed the silk surrounding him, the threads hanging above his gaze, the fine silk brushing along his arms and legs, pressing down and around his thighs but never tightening. There was even a bit of thread around the base of his shaft. She laid her fingers delicately over the tip as she kneeled to allow his member into her mouth, to grace it with the feeling of her tongue as he remained perfectly still.

Bastille closed his eyes as he allowed the sensations to mix over him. A tongue over the tip, long and sticky wrapping around and around as she lowered her maw over his member. Silk, softer than he had expected, touched his body as if letting him know that he was caught in a web, and yet, he could still move if he wanted. It was draped over him and nearby; a constant reminder of her presence alongside the maw over his shaft bobbing up and down. As he opened his eyes, she brought her mouth up with a hand at the base of his shaft, a string of pre and drool combined together acting as the silk connecting her maw to his shaft.

She rose slowly while bringing her fingers up his member, while breathing out in a purr, "No more pulling away."

Was it the silk covered in that twinkling white that had him enraptured by her light? Or something else? He sat there waiting for the moment she took to his lap, and watched as she eased the head of his member inside of her. The warmth of her body enveloped him, her insides tightening around him, her hands drifting up to his shoulders as she began to raise her hips before bringing them down. Every inch was brought into her but she did not begin to buck and bounce as he expected, instead, she placed her head to his and began to hum.

"Move with me. Don't just let me do all the work." She said quietly.

He answered as if he had just woken up and with a breath, "Sorry, it feels like quite the dream right now."

Sharp digits dug into his shoulders before moving around to his back and there they remained as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Humming joyfully, he began to push his hips upwards to grind into her. She bounced in return and uttered a delighted sigh, her digits grazing down his back before coming back to the shoulder. While he aimed to take his time and enjoy the dream, Hornet's body was moving to her own speed and her own desire.

Quick and firm bounces, her breaths growing ragged, her fingers slipping away so she could lean back and hold onto his thighs while bringing her hips down hard. That heat, that fire of hers could not be resisted so easily, and yet he did so in order to watch her for a bit. Her breasts were on display as she rocked herself forward and back, up and then down as she bounced on his lap. His fingers moved up her sides and to her chest, around then to her back, and up to her shoulders before he finally had enough of just staring.

It seemed like she was about to say something, a huff on her lips escaping before turning into a gasp as he drove himself into her hard. He breathed out and clung to her body while slamming inside harder while pushing in as deep as he could until he felt the entrance to her womb kissing his cock. It did not, however, seem to phase her beyond the pleasure pouring from her mouth. Instead, she drove her head against his, eyes shut as she breathed out her heat and delight while her hips matched his movements thrust per thrust.

His hands grabbed onto her wrists, his eyes shut tight as well now as he focused on the sensations wrapping around him. Tight heat that threatened to milk him at any point, alongside a delightful coolness emanating from the silk touching his body. Her kindness, her ferocity; were such beautiful things to treasure. Such fantastic things to covet and take for his own but a twinge of regret touched him as he thought of this. He couldn't.

Bastille found himself pulling away a bit to begin uttering these regrets, his vulnerabilities on display but she took him by the shoulders and eased him down to the cushion while muttering, "Not now. Please, let's enjoy this."

Again their heads met, and again they closed their eyes to sink into the moment and let it fall around them. Her hips crashed down over and over again, the heat and pressure building inside of him. He could feel her climax tightening around him, her body shivering violently, but still, she continued to rock her hips back and forth. Part of him wanted to warn her of his nearing orgasm but it felt better to just let go and let her have what she wanted, to let himself enjoy this moment to the fullest as he dipped deep inside of this scarlet flame. Finally, he thrust into her. Finally, he let his load loose within her as the pressure became too much to handle. She planted her hips down firmly as if he would try to push her off as if to say she wanted every drop within her. They looked at one another and embraced, warmth turning to delightful height as his shaft bounced and twitched within her. She breathed out and sighed near his neck, his body trembling as he painted her insides and left her with a gift she would most assuredly remember.

When he finished, they lay together for a time. The sound of the rain outside could be heard muffled, but it was nothing compared to the gentle tone of her breathing. He watched her tug away the silk she had laid with an idle digit, a quiet hum escaping her as she worked. When the threads were gone, they were left against one another without the odd cool touch binding them together. Nothing keeping them bonded. Soon enough, it would be time to leave.

Out in the rain, they sat on a balcony watching it all fall. The raindrops cooled them and their cloaks waited inside for them but for now, they allowed it all to soak in. Nothing was said between them and maybe it would have been right to say goodbye at that moment but neither of them wanted to. They gathered themselves quietly. Got ready with their weapons sharp and their voices silent.

From the City of Tears, they traveled back through the Mantis Village and into the fungal wastes, up into Greenpath, and toward the forgotten crossroads. Hornet did not remark on anything and neither did he. She saw him to the well where they both climbed the chain leading up and out of Hallownest. Dirtmouth sat before them, wind broken by the buildings whipping about. When they got to the edge of the town, Hornet pointed her needle at him.

He lowered his mask and brought his new weapon against hers and they both bowed. When they stood straight, Hornet let her needle drift downward as she remarked to the air, "Someday I'd like to see whatever it is you build, I don't know if I'll succeed here."

Quietly, he touched her hand and leaned in to whisper, "An oasis in the east where the white flowers grow at the entrance of a cavern. It is hard to miss." With that said he let go of her and sighed, "I'm not sure what I'm hoping for back home but perhaps with a shiny trinket or two I'll attract eyes, and with that thread you gave me it'll serve as a beacon for those who can feel that light."

She hummed, "And here I thought you'd pawn it off."

Bastille laughed as he took the first step forward, "No, what good would that do?" He then returned his mask to his face and breathed out, "I just think I don't want to be lonely so I'll keep traveling for a bit until I can catch a few followers. Perhaps I'll even become a King." He then shuddered, "Never mind. Too much responsibility for a simple moth."

Hornet did not laugh as she mused aloud, "King Bastille. The Silk King? The Wandering King? What will your title be? I know so little about you and still have so many curiosities but we'll see each other again."

She left it at that and did not suggest otherwise and so he simply nodded before turning his head toward her, "Until then. Be safe and good luck."

With that, he walked away. He walked away from the remnant of a dying kingdom, a scarlet flame that burned brightly even as he closed his eyes. Bastille continued walking, ignoring the desire to turn around to see how it all ended and turned away from the odd orange light that had been ringing in the peripheral vision any chance it got. Whatever that light was would not catch him, not in his dreams, not in the waking world. He had his own will, his own goals in mind; and in his dreams, he would pray with all his might that Hornet would achieve her own goals and escape whatever nightmares chased her. As the maelstrom of whipping winds outside of Dirtmouth began to wrap around him, he held his cloak tight to his body and cut through the dark as white light flickered around him.