FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Thank you for opening the first page at the end of a long personal journey.

The story you are about to read is the product of nearly two years of dialogue on the subject of sexual abuse, separation from family, and the hope for recovery. While I have gratefully never been the target of the abuse experiences described in this work, I have witnessed first hand the effects of the unsayable on my family, my friends and others I've come into contact with.

Statistically, more than 1 in 6 girls and 1 in 10 boys will be sexually molested or abused in this country alone this year, without their consent by the time they are 14 years old. In reality, both my parents were targeted when they were 4 and 8 years old, respectively.

Like most child targets of abuse, they came from poor families in disenfranchised parts of the world. The experience does not end at the act however; the stigma of socieity against victims is often more damaging than a singular physical act, or even a single series.

I hope this story will entertain you, the reader, and help you understand that what people surviving trauma need to heal.

Dedicated to my parents and for the people I've known that need a voice for what they think no one would be wiling to hear.

T his story takes place in a world similar to ours but advanced technologically about a decade. Anthropomorphic beings known as Species, or Sentients, inhabit the planet. Species have advanced brain function, the ability to manipulate tools,and have evolved to have humanoid features (such as walking biped, extended fingers for tool manipulation, and evolved versions of their senses, but not the same across all Species). Species have developed their own cultures with limited interaction during their origins.

Genetically earlier members of the Species, called Animals, inhabit the planet as well. Animals do not possess the higher level brain functions and tool manipulation ability that Species do.Thus for instance, wolves and Wolves co-exist.

The history of the world is 10,000 years in the making of conflicts between carnivorous, dominant species and omnivorous and herbivorous species over resources and the management of Animals. Carnivorous Species sought to cultivate livestock from relatives of prey Species and expected submission. Non-carnivorous Species resistance built over time and led to numerous conflicts and wars

Reforms have come in the last two centuries to form societies and governments where Species can co-exist and socially advance. However, old prejudices and racial memory still foster distrust and extreme economic division, leading to organized crime in different areas that target the poor and disenfranchised.

Notes on language in the text: Each Species has its own language and cultural history, and there is a combined language called Dilectica that most Species in modern industrial socieities know. Languages of Species are also contextual based on combinations of words, sounds, body language, scents and displays. However, many words do not translate full meaning and Species will use their own words instead. Footnotes have been added to appellations, salutations, slang and other cultural references outside of what is written in a language we can currently understand.

Notes on clothing: Many Species are nude or partially nude. Cultural conditioning has made wearing clothing "unnatural." Clothing is discouraged among citizens in mild weather. Because of fur, the range at which species feel comfortable without clothing is greater. During winter months, cloaks, hats, gloves and permitted. Wallets are carried in wrist purses, fanny packs or most often around the thigh or ankle. Clothing is mandatory for industrial workers for protection and by institutions as uniforms (though these may be as little as a sash on a nude body for students or elaborate vests and kilts for government officials). Clothing as fashion is more popular among youth, but is discouraged outside of metropolitan areas because of the strong sexual connotations from bringing attention to sexual features. Overt sexual attention in public, such as erections or vulva on display, is taboo and illegal in many areas. Share surfaces to sit on are made hygienic by towels and pads that are washed, sterilized, and reused. Many carry their own personal hygiene towels for travel.

_Notes on gende_r: Males and females have facilities for traveling and for easy separation due to historical concerns of violence toward females. This includes public tranportation system, but not public areas. Males and females often have distinctly different lives, though they will come together often.

** Disclaimer**

This story is intended for entertainment purposes only. The subject matter covered in this piece is for mature audiences. These include m/m relationships, m/m sex, the sex slavery industry, minors in non-consensual and questionably consensual positions, kidnapping, transexuals, transexual sexuality, recreational drug use, addiciton, psychological disabilities, racism, poverty, rape, post-traumatic stress, and trauma recovery.

So, with that all, let us begin:

_ ** ** _ _ Love for Sale_ _ _

_ Let the poets pipe of love_ _ in their childish way,_ _ I know every type of love_ _ Better far than they._ _ If you want the thrill of love,_ _ I've been through the mill of love;_ _ Old love, new love_ _ Every love but true love_ _ Love for sale._

_ Billie Holiday, Cole Porter_

Chapter 1

A plane would have been faster, and a limo would have been more comfortable, but only a crowded bus could give Chero a familiar panic when it went through dark tunnels then bless him with sweet relief upon exit.

The young mouse left an impression in the bus like a chalk drawing that stubbornly resisted being erased. His winter cloak unbuckled and made the gold cartouche collared to his neck rattle. The engorged mother rat sleeping next to him with babies suckling at her breasts turned uneasily at the sound. She tilted her head over and a drop of saliva fell on his shoulder.

Chero refastened himself and checked his ankle holster to make sure to make sure the contents were secure. Nineteen fresh, new credit cards were still layered inside like a rainbow, while the mask of a healthy living mouse on his identification card reflected the colors.

At every stop along the way, familiar faces came on and then left the vehicle. He called out once to a friend he recognized, and then turned away when the passenger looked at him with unfamiliar eyes. After the second case of mistaken identity, he watched passengers only when they were not looking at him.

Nearly thirty hours of starts and stops came between leaving a place that no longer existed, to the sprawling city that seemed to be everything left of civilization, called Alladas

Chero was unceremoniously hustled off the bus on the dusty curb of an ancient bus station. Here the signs coated in yellow dust were dependent on trucks and hissing water-spray pipes to keep them clean and inoffensive to tourists.

He hid inside the bus station for over an hour with a phone book in his lap opened to a single page. New passengers boarded while others like him departed. When he was sure he was alone, he set the phone book aside and looked ahead at a faded map of the city on the wall.

The city of Alladas was enormous. The outer boundaries were marked in yellow like the soil outside. All the other territories were colored in burnt sienna and their names were so small and faded that they could have been mistaken for topographic symbols.

The first credit card purchase from a newsstand provided a more detailed map. Chero quickly read the names of all the major streets and parks, tourist attractions and government buildings. He traced the large river that slaked the thirst of the city and then the roads to the game preserves where food for carnivore-Sentients fed the servants of the city. He paused on a name, tapped it twice and then refolded the map.

Cabs slowly circled the bus station to catch late and lost travelers. Chero looked all around him once before standing on his toes and waving for attention.

The ferret that drove up to him first had a face half-shadowed by his gray cap. He tilted his head up and revealed long whiskers mottled white gray and black like his teeth. "Where to?" he asked.

The mouse inched back slightly. The driver was a decrepit shadow of a kind face he once knew.

"Unless you've got someone pickin' you up, we're about to go off duty," the driver grumbled. "So what'll be it?"

Chero cleared his throat. "C-C-Caribbean Sky Lane. How far is that?"

The ferret whistled and shook his head.

"But it's in the city...isn't it?" Chero cleared his throat again from the dust.

The ferret rubbed his fingers together. "It's here, but can you get there?"

The driver then openly looked up and down Chero's body. There was just the slightest exposure of a pink tongue before he spoke. "We can work something out...yana-chan[1,2]_..._give you a discount."

The mouse pulled his cloak over his genitals and lowered his ears. "I have money," he whispered.

The ferret tilted his head sharply and the mouse quickly stepped inside. Before Chero even closed the door, the cab accelerated and knocked him backwards. He yanked his tail in quickly before the cab door slammed shut.

The landscape was more interesting than the concupiscent glances of the driver. Instead of closely-spaced communities like in the coastal territories, here the homes were spread apart at sometimes unpredictable distances. Between these attempts at civilization were deserts, scrub plains and mixtures of sand, white stone fields and farmland. The center of the city was bulging with bright lights, tall buildings and attractions that promised its outlying appendages a steady source of nourishment for all their needs, no matter how demanding their appetites.

The driver stopped and tapped the meter. "Hundred and fifty."

"You said it would be a hundred," Chero protested.

"We hit traffic," the ferret answered gruffly.

The mouse looked furtively from side to side. Then he put a credit card forward and waited for the receipt. The ferret handed the card back to him with an overdose of self-satisfaction. The driver then happily left Chero at his destination, not realizing until hours later he had fresh claw marks in the rear leather seats.

Now the city was draped in dusky orange twilight. The Hotel Felicity was the host to a redundancy of jewelry stores, high-end restaurants and carnivores dressed in their best evening wear. Chero quickly stepped into the lobby and squinted at the bright lights. The receptionist's snow-white uniform made her only that much harder to look at her to get her attention.

"All deliveries are made in the back," the squirrel said without looking at him. "Just make sure you fill these out." Her orange paws jerkily pushed out a tablet with toward him.

Chero's ears became as red as his eyes. "No bolli-sen[3, 4] I want a room."

She looked up at her hair immediately fell out place. Chero shook his head disapprovingly of a product of cheap styling lotion and a hairstyle that should have stayed on the heads of the guillotined bourgeois during the Revolutions.

"You must have the wrong hotel Yana-san[5]. The rooms here are too large for your species."

Chero stood on his toes to make sure she could see his face over the desk counter. "I want a room. I want it very big and I want hot water and big windows. And I want a meal ready for me when I get there."

She did not have enough time to suppress her arrogant skepticism when Chero slapped a credit card on the desk. When she asked to verify the account, the mouse put his identification cards down so forcefully that she took pause and moved away from him. From then on she watched him warily from behind the counter that offered very little protection for her. She gave him his reciept and called a porter to bring him up.

The porter was no less surprised than the receptionist but attended his task without comment. The brown field mouse that escorted Chero to his room never even expected to receive a gratuity, much less one that made him blink at the reciept and speak out of turn to the patron.

"Yana-san, excuse me, forgive me, pardon me, but...did you place the decimal point where you intended?"

Chero checked the receipt. Then he made a mark on the reciept and passed it back to the porter.

"Is that better?"

Bolli-Servant-Santi looked down at the reciept and gasped. The gratuity now equaled his weekly stipend. He meant to protest, but when he met with Chero's hardened face, he simply bowed with his paw over his chest. He immediately escorted Chero inside and showed him the entire layout of the room with his head and tail tucked far down.

Unpacking was a joke. The contents of Chero's entire suitcase fit in a single drawer of a dresser. The room was so large that perhaps couple of dozen other mice like him could sleep in the remaining spaces of the corner suite. Like the bed, the washroom was laid in marble blues and white that magnified the size of the space. There was even a heated whirlpool set into the floor by the windows. Chero only requested that the bucket in the latrine for bones and blood be removed because it disgusted him.

The porter waited patiently while Chero finished his meal of insects, fruits and eggs. "Can I can do anything else for you, Yana-sama?" [5]

As soon the porter left and the door was closed, Chero went to the bath. He hadn't washed in nearly two days, unheard of!

Hot water gushed out with sudden pressure that almost scalded him. The water penetrated every place behind his ears, his armpits, claws, toes and tail. Every crack, crevice, orifice and inch of his body was washed with soap that was meant for heavy-fur-bearing guests and not for his delicate skin. Itching was a minor cost to pay for peace of mind.

Alone and drying in the room at last, he turned on every light. The darkness in the shadows of the room was a polluted indigo like the sky outside. He knocked on all the walls where there might be microphones and hidden cameras but found none. Every drawer and closet was opened silently, scanned, and shut again. The three locks of the door slid open firmly, but clicked back into place with questionable assurance.

Now there was an empty room and silence. Chero assumed a meditation position by the windows with his thumb and first finger together and his foot cradled on the other knee. Focus came and traveled from his crown to the tip of his tail.

A stream of consciousness moved up his spine and with assistance through subtle finger gestures. When consciousness entered his chest, he could barely inhale. When feelings moved through his throat he could not swallow. At the crown of his head between his ears, consciousness fluttered out like a wounded bird. He had been out of practice for weeks.

Television was now permitted. News was the only topic on the noise box worth watching. There were stories of the economy, politicians campaigning for election, then talking heads that had nothing to say and very loudly. None of the pictures told about what really mattered to the people. The commercials of products were made for people who lived in the sun, not denizens of the underworld. Maybe someday he would enjoy the noisebox like normal people did, he thought.

He heard a sound at the door. Quickly he stood up and smoothed down his fur. He kept his chin straight and walked with purpose to look out the peep hole.

Tonight, he and his friends had arranged a birthday party. What fun it would be! It would be better than the wrestling match last time, that was for sure. He could see their heads through the fisheye lense of the door looking impatient. They knew he needed time to look his best. They were so impatient!

Smiling eagerly with a little bounce in his step, Chero opened the door to meet a friend he'd only seen yesterday.

The laughter and the voices stopped.There was no one outside. The phantom smells of their body odors and perfumes still lingered as if there had been people who had vanished into the walls.

Now he remembered. The birthday party had been a year ago.

Closing the door and tightening the bolts brought reality back into the present. He put he his against the back of the door and stayed there. There was nobody. He was hallucinating, he knew it, and still could not stop it.

Staying alone in the hotel room was frightening. He couldn't stay there tonight. He needed to be around people, any people. But meeting strangers was also frightening; their stares, their judgements, their rejection or worse, their unwanted attentions.

Yet what was worse? Being alone with the dead, or being among the living? His phantom companions might call on him again, so he decided he would go. Besides, staying alone in an empty room seemed a waste of his first night of freedom.

He used memories to give him comfort. Groups of strangers judging his personal worth by how he appealed to their baser interests was nothing new. Now the difference was that he could go home alone without penalty. What a strange concept.

Wiping his eyes, Chero picked up the hotel phone. "Hi, front desk? Yes, Yana Chero, room Alpha-49. I don't know the town and I want to have some fun tonight."

Then he asked for the local clubs and bars. They didn't have that kind of literature? Well they'd better get it quick if they wanted him to book his convention and all five-hundred members there for the coming year. "Thank you...yes that's very sweet of you. Yes, send him up."

When bolli-Santi returned, he had sweat across his brow and a bundle of magazines. "You asked for these Yana-sama?"

Chero took them and forgot them instantly. "Any you'd recommend?"

The brown mouse shrugged bashfully. "My girlfriend likes the Gap Corral. Don't know what you...like..."

Chero glanced at his reflection in a mirror and smoothed down the fur on his head. "I'm going to trust she has good taste, if she picked you."

***

In thirty minutes, Chero stepped out of the cab in his summer best. Tonight the neighborhood was hopping. The Day of the Dead was approaching and phermones were running high before the holiday.

As he approached the Gap Corral, panic came like hot coals had appeared under his feet. He inched forward, then jumped back at a sharp scream of rowdiness from inside. Then he smoothed his travel cloak down and walked forward in time with the rythym of the bass coming from inside. The bouncer never realized how terrified he had just been.

Inside the club the ceilings were high and layered with streamers and decorations. Pumpkins, monsters of fantasy and the sexier versions of their mortal selves in black pointed hats made the rustic layout more cheerful. It was dark, but it wasn't black; it was small but there was enough room to walk between people. Exits were clearly marked and easy to see. Chero breathed more easily.

Bright orange hair flashed at him through the crowd. The husky that sported the daring color design was sleek, masculine and well-endowed. Loosely hitched to a group of friends, his sexy eyes wandered the early evening crowd for a prize. He was hot and he knew it. Chero walked away from the easy mark; tonight he did not want to sleep with the dead.

Soon the mouse realized that the club was haunted. More bodies and faces poured in from the night into a whirlpool of flesh and dreams of sex, love and fulfillment for something in the collection of their warm bodies that perhaps none of the patrons could describe.

Alcohol made their faces frighteningly familiar. Were these shades to comfort him, or calling him to join them? He hid behind a large glass of wine and watched the crowd through yellow and pink filters.

Now their true natures appeared. There were members of Desperation in one corner from those too old to be young, or too young to be rich. Other overwatered wallflowers lugubriously hid in the corner waiting for even a glance. Friends laughed and talked, but did not dare look over their shoulders at strangers who were either beneath them, or too far beyond them to reach.

Over the music came a tapping to get Chero's attention. A prairie dog sporting the club's signature leather vest and decals caught his eye. "New in town?" he asked.

Chero nodded. The bartender slid a red card to him on the counter. "On me."

Picking up the card, it read:

_ Fun for You and your Friends!_

_ Good for 1 free Fortune at the Gap Corral._

Glancing up again, Chero reached into his wallet for a tip, but the bartender lost his gaze. The mouse withdrew his paw and looked back into the room.

Slowly Chero's eyes adjusted and the candle light on a table became distinguishable from electric bulbs. He pushed his way through the thickening crowd using the card as a divining rod. When the crowd parted, there was a round table with a red table cloth in a pocket of open space. Crystals, cards and other objects were placed with ritual precision on the surface that made amoebic shadows in the flickering candle light. He did not believe in magic, but what was in front of him was better.

Outlines of masculinity emerged. White whiskers and green eyes were the only streak of color against the panther's black face. His paws showcased his trinkets in a dramatic flourish then folded back to his torso.

"Welcome, yana-san. Now in the season of the dead, all that is past and all that is to come is waiting to be revealed. What's your pleasure?"

The mouse instantly flipped through a mental picture book of libidinous acrobatics he wanted to try. Then he passed his card over the table and kept his paws on the table.

The panther opened his palm to beckon him. "Pick an object and I'll show you a future."

Chero pointed to the cards. "Ah...You like to see things with your own eyes."

"Now tell me something I don't know, honey-san."

The panther smirked and the cards flipped over to please him. "The Ship. You've just started a journey."

Chery kept his face blank. The fortune teller would not cheat from facial expressions.

Another card turned over. "Death. You've just left tragedy behind you."

The mouse still wouldn't change his expression. He looked at Death carrying white roses through a gate and thought he smelled the perfume of flowers.

"The Devourer. Your old life is gone."

Chero laughed. "Are your fortunes always this grisly?"

The panther laid down more cards. "Hey, you're lucky to be alive. Now the present...you...the Fool."

Happily dancing near a cliff, a young fox in the picture looked at the sun and could not see the ground crumbling beneath him.

"Now you're just being insulting, I didn't even have time to wonder if I liked you."

"It means you're free. You go where you want." The panther passed the card across the table for Chero to keep. Another window was flipped over.

"The Festival. A party is where the future starts."

"All rather vague isn't it?"

"Well if you want specifics I'll have to read the entrails of a fresh kill. You want to get me dinner?" The panther laughed at Chero's disgusted grimace and turned over the next card. "The Magician, a friend to guide you."

The mouse sneered coldly at the self-satisfied expression of the bear on the picture. "Looks like a con artist to me."

"Whoever he, or she, is, they're your friend." He flipped over another card. "Ouch."

"What?" Chero looked down. A pair of mice of indeterminate genders were embraced tenderly but oriented upside down relative to the rest of the pictures.

"Love blocked," the fortune teller said. He turned over another three cards. "The Mother. The Father. And the Child. Interesting..."

"What if I had two mommies?" Chero smirked mirthlessly.

The fortune teller took the sarcasm in stride. "This is what you're looking for," he said. "You trying to have kids?"

Chero began to leave.

"Wait, there's two more," the panther said.

With a frustrated chirp, Chero resumed his seat. When the next card turned, all his hot indignation turned to ice.

Thousands of teeth against a shapeless black mass in the card were devouring the two mice from earlier. The panther's relaxation was gone and his tail was flicking in short twitches.

Chero covered his mouth and laughed. "You want to eat me, right? Is that a hint?"

The panther shook his head. "They're telling you to be careful."

Forcing himself to be friendly, Chero leaned in with deeper interest. "About what?" he asked.

Hesitating, the panther turned over the last card. The card was a solid white block.

Even though this was a game, and even though Chero knew it was pretend, his heart was still pounding. He screwed up determination to calm himself down and wondered why he had been so agitated. Before Chero could find a platitude to exit the table, a black paw was extended.

"I'm Dante," the panther introduced himself.

At first, Chero offered a paw palm-down and bent at the wrist, then deliberately twisted his paw evenly and offered his name. Effeminate, but not female.

Dante pulled the cards away and looked intently in his general direction. "So was any of that true?"

"You're a horrible fortune teller, but you're very cute," Chero said. He had no qualms about direct eye contact.

"Thanks...I think?"

Chero smiled sincerely this time. "Can I buy you a drink?" he offered.

The panther smiled and Chero flushed with anticipation. He had a cocky and somewhat akward maleness to him that pressed all the right buttons. Oh, he was definitely top choice tonight, and Chero made up his mind right then and there that they would share the same bed that night.

"Not that I don't appreciate the compliment yana-sal[7], all the alcohol in Alladas won't make me switch sides, you know?"

Politeness dictated that Chero not embarrass his acquaintance. However, while getting their drinks, he cursed privately of hearing range.

Etiquette made it impossible to leave after making the offer and he returned hoping to end the embarrassment quickly. Instead, the panther started talking immediately. "Where you staying?" he asked.

Now that there was no chance of reciprocal sexual interest, the mouse became less animated.Chero gave a fake hotel name.

"That's good. You here for school?"

"I just came for a visit," Chero demurred. "What about you, bolli-fortune-teller?"

No one else was coming for fortunes, so Dante held him without release. Dante told fortunes by night and lived out of his car by day. Rich parents didn't matter when they lost it all in legal battles over unsuccessful civil suits. What these were, he didn't mention, but had had not stopped his pursuit of higher education. College only provided a business degree with liberal arts for attracting females, but Dante's real treasure was his car.

At least you got your degree though?" Chero said after a hiccup.

"Doesn't make me any money now in this economy," Dante annunciated. Chero had advanced to a stronger alcohol, but the panther was ahead of him by two glasses.

Now the club was packed shoulder to shoulder and claustrophobia triggered Chero to look for an exit. As Chero went to get more drinks, intending never to return, someone touched him along the arm in a way he liked.

The ringtail that touched him seemed middle-aged and not half-bad looking. Immediately he and Chero moved to a part of the back of the bar and began making out. Kissing was fun and the slight stale taste of smoke on his breath brought back good memories. His skin was soft and Chero liked the coarseness of his muzzle.

Erections in public were taboo, even in private places set aside for who Chero found interesting. Tonight though, he didn't care. The rest of the patrons did not exist and he did not care if he was thrown out. He released himself inside like opening a window and his erection came to full mast in mere moments.

The ring tail was wild with excitement. "Wow, you're big," he said barely containing his lust."Just...oh we're gonna get kicked out here, I know it..."

There was an instant of hestitation and the shoving crowd wedged between them. A group of boars a and nutria pushed and pulled them apart like waves. Shoving from the crowd pushed them apart and split them into the masses. Otters danced gaily and spilled their cold drinks between them until they had lost all site of one another. .

Chero pushed and tried to go back against the tide, until he hit a large solid mass of black fur and red silks.

Wow. The panther on his back was solid. Dante spoke into his ear but the noise washed out his words.

Chero pulled away to get back to his target, but Dante came louder. "Don't go with that sak!

Again Dante spoke, but this time Chero lost his patience. "SPEAK UP!" he demanded.

"I SAID HE'S GOT BUGS!"

Chero's jaw dropped just as he paws flew up to hide his face. Dante smiled uncomfortably at the snickers and snide glances they were getting.

He leaned in closer. "Just looking out for you, okay? Just be careful."

Chero turned away and pushed roughly back in the crowd. Drinks spilled and males were startled and tripped not seeing what had pushed them below their eye level. He was not going to be held back from what he wanted.

He found his mark and the ring tail was delighted. Chero turned up the charm to give an excuse for how red his ears had become. "Almost lost you. What's your name?"

At first, Ethan didn't remember, then filled the silence. "Where's your place?"

Chero made up another hotel. "Where's yours?"

Ethan grinned. "I don't have a place, but it's warm and private out back. Maybe get a little group action going, eh? You're so hot..."

Sex for the first time in weeks in a grubby parking lot did not sound attractive. Chero bowed his head and put his paw together for forgiveness. "Look, give me your number, maybe another night..."

"No!" Ethan pulled the mouse eagerly. "C'mon...I'll make you feel good. I promise."

That was exactly the tone Chero had been listening for. Tonight, for the first time in his life, he didn't have to tolerate desperation. With a smile like butter, Chero turned his body back and the crowd swallowed him back into ocean of flesh.

From there, salutations were rote. Other males were eager for his attention. Obvious jokes for squirrels about their nuts gave him new access to their toned bodies. His wit disarmed other males as well and gave him access to whatever he wanted to touch.

Suddenly Ethan was in his view. He gave a dirty look to Chero's current interest and back at the mouse. "Hey...I saw you first," he whined.

Right then, the amount of alcohol imbibed suspended normal etiquette. "Go away Ethan. When I want something sleezy, I'll call you."

Others laughed out loud while Ethan's ears folded down and his head tucked. The beaver that Chero was trying to seduce was then more openly harrassed to leave.

Another sip from his drink pushed Chero to the direct approach. "Leave me alone. I don't like you."

"Please? I'm sorry," Ethan begged. "I'll get us a nice room. I've got some money, please? You're just so hot. I want you bad!"

"Liars turn me off," he said flatly.Lights became too bright and voices became irritating for Chero now.

"I didn't lie!"

For a moment, Chero doubted his instincts. Only for a moment. When he ripped off Ethan's holster, and took out the identification cards, there was Irwyn Taksi, born in the month of Saknay

He threw back the wallet with an uproarious drunken laugh.

Irwyn, was trembling with rage. "You can't do that to me! That's theft!"

Chero giggled and couldn't stop himself. The ringtail's high voice was the funniest thing in the world to him then.

Irwyn began calling for help that only spurred the other patrons to laugh as well. He began screaming at the other patrons and cursing Chero out which made the mouse fall backwards with hilarity and knock over several drinks.

There was finally enough of a commotion that security came over and grabbed Chero by the scruff of the neck. An insult could be forgiven, but not a waste of liquid therapy. With a heave and a hold, he and Irwyn were both shoved out into the night.

Chero's head was pounding so hard it took him a moment to realize he was outside.

Irwyn came at him again. "You little bitch! You got me kicked out! I will skin your skinny white ass. You think you're so hot, you're just a stuck-up gutter-rat!"

Cab after cab passed the mouse hailing them on the street with Irwyn stepping closer and jumping back. Finally the mouse hailed down a taxi and jumped in. To his horror, Irwyn tried to jump in too and found his nerve again. "You got me kicked out! You owe me! Don't take him driver, he's a two-faced thief!"

Chero pushed the ringtail out of the car, but the driver was frightened. Even with an exhorbitant offer for escape, Irwyn's yelling scared the driver to kick Chero out and leave him in a cloud of yellow dust where he coughed himself back to sobriety.

Turning on the ringtail, he assumed a stance of superiority and disdain. All the charm of the club was gone and what was left was ugly. "Honey, if you don't get out of my way, I'm going to hurt you. That's a promise."

As Chero tried to walk around him, the ringtail grabbed his arm. Well, he'd been warned, hadn't he?

Only the mouse hadn't meant to punch so hard.

One, two, and DOWN the ringtail went. He hit the floor sprawled on his back and limbs spread in every direction. When the dust settled, Chero squeaked in terror and jumped up and down in place several times. "Oh Ghana I've killed him! Oh not now! No, no, no! Not now!"

After the panic passed, Chero knelt down and checked Irwyn's vitals. Except for a nasty black eye in the morning, the ringtail would otherwise live. Once he realized he had not committed a murder, he sneered down at his opponent. Idiot.

Dusting himself off, Chero realized he had an audience.

"Looks like you can take care of yourself, yana-sal," Dante said.

Chero dusted himself off. "You were coming to rescue me?"

Dante grinned with embarrassment and Chero rolled his eyes. "Take me away bolli-fortune teller? I'm not finding a companion here tonight. No one wants a mean girl and I'm tired of this place. I want something new."

Chero was on him fast before he could answer and craning his neck up with a tilt and a wet glimmer in his eyes. He did not touch the panther, but their proximity of bodies was closer than new acquaintances were permitted in public. "Please bolli-san? It's my first night here and I don't need much. A movie? Some music? A good mounting if you have a friend? Just...please save me tonight."

For a moment, the panther looked like he might laugh. Then he looked closer and saw there was no mirth or charm in the request. It was a sincere plea.

It wouldn't take an hour for Chero to regret asking Dante to be his hero tonight.

[1] yana -honorific prefix for males between the ages of 18-40.

[2] chan -informal diminutive suffix. As a compliment for pleasure at what they see.

[3] bolli -professional appellation for beginning-level employee in a field

[4] sen -honorific suffix for females

[5] san -honorific suffix for males.

[6] sama -honorific suffix for males of high importance, such as royalty, heads of government and highly empowered persons of industry. Also a term of extreme gratitude for generosity.

[7] sal - informal personal suffix; similar equivalent would be "dude!"

[8] savalak- noun, vagina; origin Feline.

[9] sak -slang term, noun: a person of questionable character; i.e., "creep", "shady", origin, Raccoon community, southwestern territories.

[10] Saknay -the third month of the year. There are 14 months in the year of the standard calendar.