FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

A sweet aroma was in the air as Rodent was enjoying an afternoon smoke; although one could have believed he was giving himself the relief of a cigarette or a fine cigar, this wasn't the case of this situation.

For the flavor and the effect, he was partial to the goodness of the Mary Jane, an element that made one's life better, when one wasn't abusing it. But it didn't mean to be afraid of it either; he embraced it, knowing what he was doing.

He was a rat, rather modest in size, being around three feet in height; he didn't care about it, for he was an average size for his kind, making this sort of worry useless in his eyes. Covered with short, brown fur, he was also wearing a baggy pair of jeans at the moment, for he found them more comfortable than the other clothes he had.

As he took his last inhalation, the joint rendered useless by the flames, he took a moment to reflect on his situation as he tossed the remains away, trying to aim for the ashtray, but missing his target by not much.

April twenty was coming closer; was his stock was ready for the event? The holiday was arriving fast, after all. The ashes could wait; the idea was now in his mind and he wanted to assure himself that there was still enough, until he would find another fun idea to pass the time.

Rummaging in the desk close to him, he was unable to find an item that stirred his curiosity; perhaps it was deeper in the drawer, hiding behind some of the documents and items he placed there to discourage curious people from investigating. Of course, if one wanted to search his belonging with rigor, his hidden stash would be discovered, but that was a possibility that he tossed away; who would want to invade his privacy to empty a desk so they could find few grams of herbs?

As he searched the desk, wondering where he could have placed the bag in question, he faced several documents and files that puzzled him; they seemed filled with important information and a message that he couldn't ignore. Were they official documents or letters he received before? He had no idea on the nature of their origin...

They could be excellent supports for future joints he thought, as he grabbed them and placed the pile on the top of the desk, resuming his search for the elusive herbs. Perhaps in his desire to hide them, he placed them somewhere else, but that wouldn't make sense; when he was in the mood, he needed to find with haste, not search the apartment for hours until he would be able to find it.

As he stretched his hand, reaching into the depth of the desk, he felt a bag moving under his grasp; there it was, the elusive object of his desire. It was curious that it was so deep inside, but since he found it, he had nothing to complain about, for in a few moments, his mind would be at peace, the worries that were gaining on him would dissipate, leaving only a pleasant taste in his mind.

Pulling on the bag, he succeeded in taking it out of the desk, only to realize that it was now empty, a deception wrapped in a transparent veil. He wondered why he would leave an empty bag in his desk when he saw a little note in it.

I own you a bag of weed said the note, in his own handwriting, although it was a bit sloppy and blurry. He must have written it when he was high, thinking that his future self would be able to read the message and find a replacement for it.

But now it was too late; he wanted to find a replacement now and time was running out, in theory. He could always depart to the medical clinic, claiming that he was living in horrible pains and thus needed the herbs to live a rich, fulfilling life. But to do so, he would need another note, for the one he used wasn't up to date anymore; the fact that the doctor's office was closed today didn't help either.

But at least he was feeling joyful, although his hands were cold; to find a way to warm them up, while he would be finding a solution to the problem that he was facing was a challenge, but he was up to it, for it would assure him a solid supply for the event to come while restoring his temperature.

He pondered on the subject for a moment, interrupted a few times by his growling stomach; he was getting hungry, but he wanted to find a solution before getting a snack, for if he decided to take a snack, he would lose tracks and interests.

The munchies were a dangerous foe for a coherent thought pattern; speed was of the essence, or the food would trap him, making him lose focus. He was sure that there was a path, one that didn't take too much time or would force to run outside; it was cold, spooky and windy. Who would want to wander outside, when the inside felt so comfortable?

What if he could create more Mary Jane? If he could find a lamp and rub it, then he could wish for more and maybe even share it with the genie, but he knew that there was no such thing as a genie, well, no such thing as a relatively close jinni.

But why would he need a djinn when he could do the job himself? As he remembered from what he perused in some crumbling books, or an ancient magazine since he was unable to remember the exact source. The important point was that with a right formula and gestures, he would be able to transform any object into the item of his desire, meaning that he wouldn't need to undertake quests at all.

Now, his only task was to remember the words, for a mistake could change the process; he could the start of a panic attack, but then he asked himself; why should he worry about some minor modifications? It's not like the plant wouldn't appear; a change in color or size wasn't a modification he cared about...

Unless the plant was alive and was planning to eat him; he could visualize it, standing tall, looking at him with envy, as he would try to escape its leafy vines while it would capture him and bring him closer...

If he would fail in his mission, he could always cook himself a sandwich; a tasty, belly filling meal that would melt in his mouth. As he would assemble the bread, the lettuce, the tomato and the meat together, he would then acquire an amazing snack...

He shook his head, trying to chase the rising hunger away; it wasn't the time for the munchies. Taking a moment to breathe deeply, still smelling the sweet aroma of the herb in the air, he took one of the pieces of paper, determined to write was he remembered about it, so he could perform the ritual.

Grabbing a pen, he wrote feverishly what came to his mind, wondering if it all made sense; it mattered little for now, for it would be noted in case he wouldn't remember the words when he would be reciting them.

Satisfied with his result, his hands finally warming up from the activities, he took a permanent black marker and traced a sign on the ground. He could always reuse it later or just paint it over when he would be done...

He knew he was to chant the words, but he wasn't in the mood to sing today; instead, he decided that he would recite them for a while, then he would try his luck at rapping some of the lyrics, for he was feeling angsty today.

Taking the paper in his hand, he read the words, wondering what they meant for a moment, before letting his mind run free with the prospect of the plant that he would bring in this world and the happiness that it would provide.

In the middle of the improvised ceremony, he decided that it would be the best time to start a little jig, for he wanted to use of some energy that was bothering him. Dancing, as interpretative as it could, felt natural to him; he had the feeling that it was adding emphasis to the ritual, making the formula stronger. The result would only be better if he was able to perform it better, although there was so much he could do...

He sang for appeared to be hours; he wasn't sure, for the clock on the wall was broken and he didn't trust his watch. There was a trait of that character on it that he didn't like, but he couldn't put his finger on...

The ceremony ended when he took and made a little ball out of it; it was boring that there no waste basket nearby where he could throw it, but for the moment he was feeling great, for all there was to do was wait for the spell to take effect.

Perhaps he could even have time to assemble that sandwich, although he had the impression that an event was about to happen. But for now, he had the time to finish that sandwich; since he had no clue about the effect of the spell that he just cast, there was no point in waiting for an effect to happen. In the meanwhile, he could take the time to grab a tasty snack, until he would observe some results...

He didn't wait long for the results to happen; as he was walking toward the fridge, he started feeling strange, as if his skin was starting to melt. But that was probably his imagination, just like the last time when he thought that the colors on the walls were dripping, when they weren't. Perhaps it was due to the fact that he danced while chanting...

Or was it reality? As he tried to open the door, a quick glance as his arm made him realize that the spell indeed worked, but not in a way that he wished. He could observe that his fur was not only turning green, but also changing texture.

He passed a hand on it, trying to determine what was happening to him; as he felt the fur on his arm, surprise filled him. It didn't feel like fur at all anymore, but it felt rough under his digit, as if it was growing. It felt floral, as if the spell was affecting him; it could always be a possibility, although he could have spilled a liquid on himself...

His impression faded as he looked again; instead of his arm, all he could observe was a vine, the same color as the fur like substance he saw grow on his forearm. He was surprised that he felt no pain in the process, but since he was still high, this could be his dazed mind playing tricks on him.

He decided that it wasn't important for the moment; the matter at hand was the sandwich he wanted to eat. Trying to grab it, he stretched a bit, only to watch the vine move instead of his arm; it surprised him a bit, but at the same time, he admitted to himself that it was quite interesting. He was surprised that he still had mobility, for it wasn't an arm anymore, but a mere vine, a part of a plant; it made him wonder what was happening to the rest of his body.

He tried to move his tail, only to feel nothing; he was feeling quite stiff, but content at the same time. His mind was pleased, drifting away; he wasn't sure how it was possible, but he was now euphoric, as he was unable to move his body. Perhaps there was an ironic element about it, but the smell enchanted him...

It didn't take him long to figure out the smell; it was marijuana, and not the terrible stuff. This was amazing quality he could smell, one that he would pay an arm and leg to savor a few grams of it.

If only he could smoke some of the leaves that were now growing on the vines that replaced his arms; it would be an amazing experience, one that could define his life, although he wasn't sure he would be able to remember it.

As the light dimmed out, his sight fading on him, for the foliage was covering with an increased pace his transforming body, he had a last thought, one that could have made him giggle, if he was able to do so in the first place.

``So I suppose that is what they meant when they were talking about being a pothead'' he told himself, as his mind embraced the darkness, the light escaping his grasp...

A day passed, before a few knocks were heard at Rodent's apartment door; it belonged to some of his friends that shared the same passion as he used to do. They weren't the closest people, but he still trusted them, enough for them to have a spare key of his apartment in his case that an accident happened.

``Rodent, are you here?'' asked a voice, while footstep were heard in the background; the lack of response to their question made the group stop for a moment, before they moved once again.

``Rodent, are you in here? Are you alright?'' said the same voice, as the sound of the door closing was heard; it was apparent that they weren't panicking enough to fetch the authorities, but were worrying enough to call him again...

The group moved toward the kitchen, stopping once more; an obstacle stood in their way, but it wasn't one that was threatening. It was a mild surprise, one that made them forget about the absence of their friend.

``Would you look at the size of that plant! There is enough for the entire neighborhood in there!'' said another voice, as it tried to grab a few leaves, only to rip an entire branch in the process.

Rodent was aware that a branch was taken, but it didn't hurt; he was also the branch, as his conscience transcended his own body. It was strange to hear the voices, but not be able to watch the people; it was a consequence of being another being, but at least his position was enjoyable. He was at peace and there was nothing that could bother him anymore; the only element that he wondered about was would happen if they used that branch they took from him...

``I wonder if this is strong stuff'' said the voice that grabbed his branch, as he could feel him transports it, dropping him on it on the desk for a moment while he was grabbing the paper that was lying around.

``You go ahead; I'll grab myself a sandwich then joins you. I admit that this plant has a strange look, but Rodent always had a knack for these plants. The fact that everything is ready for usage, including the food, is a nice touch; we will give our thanks to Rodent when we will meet him again'' said another voice, as the door of the fridge was opened, the hinges cringing as the weight shifted to them.

He felt the leaves being stripped from the branch; it stung him a bit, but it wasn't an unpleasant sensation at all. He was the parts, dividing himself, feeling each part as a section of himself, independent, but still linked to him.

As the chopped leaves were placed in the paper and rolled, he felt a bit sick; all this movement was giving a strange form of seasickness, a feeling that could have made him laugh if he would have been able to do such an action.

He could feel the heat from a flame; there was a probably close to him. As the flame touched him, a sudden burst surged through him; he was once again moving, his form altering due to the changes inflicted to his reality.

He was now the smoke that was inhaled, filling the lungs of the one that smoked him; as he was filtered and decomposed, he could feel the euphoria fill the one that used him. It was a strange, yet wonderful sensation, as he could be one with the consumer; he could share the pleasure and the high that he was getting, while increasing it.

As he was shared around, he soon felt the other one euphoria, making him wonder how much he would be able to feel; there was so much he had to test, to experiment with, in his new state, for the sake of knowledge...

``Man, this is awesome stuff; what do you say if we brought with us, so we could share it at the next party?'' said the first voice, getting no answer in return; it was evident that they would bring it with them.

To be shared by a group... That would be one hell of an experience...