FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"I need no food as of now. The Sisters feed me well." she added and looked off into the distance. She tried to remember her family. She had come to mother as Fury. She had left her family as Cassandra-Cassie. She couldn't remember where she came from or her last name, but she remembered the grisly scene she had left. The soldier was right; men were cruel creatures. Some of the twisted in ways she had never imagined. "I have no family save the ones you are burning to death as we speak." she said tonelessly. The static turned black and she fought against it. Her gift came with many harsh truths. One of them was a pronounced personality disorder. Not usually a problem but it had been in years past. It was uncontrollable and not hidden easily. Fury was one that no one could or would miss. She was...difficult to say the least. She knew she changed at least and if she had time to meditate, it usually didn't happen. But sometimes inducing static for long periods of time turned it black and then there would be no static. There would be no thoughts. It was just dark space and base instinct from there. She became feral and wary of everything. It was all temporary, but very dangerous. He lowered his head when she spoke of one of his greatest sins emotionlessly. For that, he would surely go to hell. He'd committed many atrocities, and he could already feel karma tossing him to the lowest levels. He sighed and stood, too tired to try and defend his harsh actions. "Well, Mitch," he chuckled, "Then I guess we'll be on our way now. Still light, so we march until dark." he offered no explanation of where they were going or why. As he stood she could suddenly see that he was tall, slightly over six feet in height. Tall enough to tower over her if he so chose. Through the tatters of his clothing, she could see he was in impeccable shape. His training had cut him deeply all around. He was v-shaped, with thick, powerful shoulders,and a toned waist that lead to slender hips and powerful thighs framed by two deep sex lines. He had a long reach, and weathered sword and hatchet to go with it. He kept his sword tucked safely in the scabbard on his belt. His hatchet tucked behind his back, slung into the same heavy duty belt. He didn't know what to do with the girl. Escape to a foreign land? Dump her somewhere? He had no idea as of yet but his primary concern was with rest and food. "Come along." he said again, picking his way down the bluff and through the forest again. His plan was simply to stay in the forest, and keep out of sight. His well notched steel blade rested heavy and familiar in one hand. She could tell just by glancing at it, that the weapon had seen more blood than most. Snapped from her thoughts and blatant observations, she knit her brows together in annoyance. "Mi-cha," she said slowly. "Not Mitch. Not Micky. MICHA." she growled, clearing her static momentarily as she rose and gave him a cool once over before trailing after him in complete silence. Not even her feet on the ground made a sound. She had many names already. She wasn't looking to add more. So many that sometimes she forgot them herself until they emerged. "If you insist upon it then I will insist upon calling you an insufferable pup." she said with a small scowl his way. Micha always had been a bit of a spitfire, too sassy for her own good and a mouth like spiced honey. The only weapons she carried were her tongue and a small dagger. There were blades in the soles of her shoes. They popped out when she stomped her foot hard enough and made for excruciatingly painful kicks to the groin, stomach and anywhere else her foot could reach. And when in panic, her foot could reach quite a few places. Jason shrugged as he walked, "If you wanna to call me that, feel free. I don't care for your nicknames m'dear." He quickly rebuffed. He tried to turn the light barb into a playful joke but mostly he just felt like he had made it worse. "Look, Micha, we're on the run. We'll need new names, new clothes...You especially, in that getup. You'll be easy to recognize. Don't you have anything that doesn't show so much of your tits? I mean, don't get me wrong, they're lovely but they'll attract more attention than we're looking for." He kept his focus on the paths ahead, but stopped abruptly after a long while and knelt down to examine the ground. He took in the clumsy tracks and pursed his lips. A bear nearby. He glanced at her and saw she wasn't concerned. He shrugged it off as her already knowing on accunt of having stronger senses. He pushed on. "For this town, I shall be Puppy, and you shall be Mitcha, if anyone asks though it's doubtful they will, but just in case, aye? We might be able to find some work as well, get our pockets full of traveling money so we might get further away..." he tried to sound hopeful, but his expression was grim. He hoped the sight of his unsheathed sword would drive most away, but feared it might also attract real danger. He sighed and took everything in stride. He found women hard to deal with. The few he'd known had been bitter, argumentative creatures and thus far aside from following him, she had proved to follow the trend. He thanked the Goddess that he'd never had time for a girlfriend, although he feared she might realize his lack of finesse with women soon enough. "Why a pup though? I've slain men, defeated great beasts, and won tournaments! What pup could claim such fame?" he boasted carelessly. What he said wasn't entirely true, but she snorted at him all the same. He was so foolish. "Murder does not make you a man." she said. She shook her head and scowled at the sky. This kit would drive her to distraction, she was sure of it. "And as for my...tits you called them? They used to fit in this quite well. Eight years ago. Then I grew. Everywhere." she said, looking down at herself in amusement. She hadn't looked at her body objectively in a long time. She ignored his semi-snide remarks and picked her way around him for a moment. She veered off to the right, tugging him along. "There are bear cubs." she said simply. And where there were cubs, there was a mother. And there was nothing more deadly than a mother bear with her cubs. Fiercely protective, they would attack anything and everything. Even things that wouldn't normally be perceived as a threat. "We can go where you were going from here." she said softly, looking about warily. "She would come for us where we were." she added and finally let go of his arm, her ears falling flat against her skull in agitation. She didn't especially dislike bears, but feral bears could make most Furs quake. He frowned at her verbage and looked down at his sword. "I wouldn't say murder. I've done a lot of protecting. And protection can lead to death..." he defended, but it sounded weak even to his own ears. Notched and ugly, it still managed to stay sharp as the day it was pushed out of the forge. He allowed himself to be led, not making a fuss about it. She was a slinky, beautiful creature, and as he was tugged along, he finally got a good long view of bosom and rear, but adverted his eyes off her quickly enough.It felt wrong to stare at her in such a way, even if for only a moment or two. "Alright, my turn," he said, taking the lead. They traveled across a flat valley for a long while, allowing him to lead her easily through the high grass. A long mountain range was nestled in the distance slightly before them. He took her south, in hopes of outrunning winter. He ranged ahead, but never too far. The girl needed to cling to something, and like it or not, he was the only one left, despite her seeming distaste for him. It was many days before they spoke to one another again. The silence was far from awkward, but it was heavy with unspoken accusations and defenses. "No fire." he said simply. "If you got any extra covering, use it. If not, you can use the cloak. We're in for a chilly night." he said matter of factly. "I don't think we need to keep watch tonight since we're pretty far away." Their camp consisted of a series of large rocks and boulders settled in a semi-circle. "Best get snuggled into your blankies 'n shit, it's gonna be one hell of a night." He said cheerfully.