FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Pop. Pop. Crackle.

I laid by the glowing hearth, flames dancing in front of me. Sounds of water tap-tapped along the roof and windows as droplets collided with obstacles that impeded their flight from the heavens to the ground. I find it so easy to fall asleep on days like this; fictitious journeys and experiences into my subconscious brought about faster with the aid of the dreary-grey sky, rhythmic taps of rain on the roof, and the gentle crackling and warm embrace of fire. This is my favorite time of year; cold and wet is my sunny day.

I pulled myself up from the fireplace, lazily shuffling over the soft, oak-log floor to a window that viewed the forest that surrounded my quaint cabin. My surroundings lit only by the fire in the room adjacent and the moody grey falling liquid-sky. I watched the clouds' tears as they rolled down my window, leaving clear, wet streaks in their wake.

My head laid atop my arms on the window sill, allowing my eyes to droop. My eyes began to flutter; the forest and rain became a blur, as I no longer focused on my vision. The lulling sounds of the hearth crackling and the pitter-patter of rain around me became amplified.

Soon, my auditory state, too, became distorted as my consciousness slipped away and washed over me. My breathing became measured. I was asleep.

I Slowly regained consciousness. Laying for a few minutes before opening up my eyes to an almost identical scene as I had fallen asleep to. Everything the same, save for the fire, which, was a little low. For a few more minutes, I lay, dreading even the thought of moving again, for I was perfectly content. Soon though, a familiar sensation found me to move. My stomach complained to me about it's lack of food.

With a groan of displeasure, I wiped my drool from my face with my forearm, groggily standing up. I let out another groan as I yawn and stretch, rubbing my eyes, and making my way to the doorway on my right. I slide my pads over the cool, rough, oak-laden kitchen floor.

I opened the refrigerator and was met with a soothing chill -- cold tendrils wrapping around me, as it attempted to pull me in -- and the faint smell of food greeted me, as I surveyed my options.

I spotted some left-over pasta wrapped up on a paper plate.

The weight of the noodles made the middle of the plate sag.

Now, I felt a bit more awake from the jolt the refrigerator had provided.

I stood in front of the microwave and unwrapped the plate. Upon lifting the thin, plastic film, cold, moist condensation rubbed off onto my paw.

I wiped my paw on my pants and tossed the plastic to the side, sticking my food into the microwave.

Two-minutes. Cook.

A light came on inside and a buzz emanated from the machine, my food slowly rotating inside. Waiting, I leaned on a counter and played with the drawstrings on my hood, glancing at the timer every few seconds.

With thirteen-seconds left on the timer, I opened a drawer and retrieved a fork, closing the drawer right as the buzzer sounded. I could already hear the sizzling of the sauce before I opened the door.

I was met by a wall of heat and the sweet smell of tomato sauce, upon opening the microwave door.

I sat my food on the table and grabbed a frosted glass cup. I dropped a few shiny ice cubes into the glass and poured myself some icy water.

I sat at the table and stared out the window. The fire had died, and the rain calmed a little bit. I sat and ate in nature's soothing grip.

Night soon befell my cozy castle. My cabin glowed, a candle in the pitch-black night, leaking into nature.

Again, I lay by the busy hearth, this time on my back, freshly added logs disintegrating inside. I lay with my hands behind my head, watching the spectacular recital of the flames. I watched as they leaped and twirled from the walls to the ceiling, pirouetting and flipping. I laid and watched these fantastic shapes for days, seemingly, but, glancing at the clock, I found that I had, in reality, only lain for fifteen-minutes. I laid there, playing with my tail, listening to the symphonic beat that coursed through the spastic flames, seeing warm flickering light in my peripheral vision. I looked into my mind and waded into my pool of thoughts. Happy times. Sad times. What-ifs... Coming to, forty-five minutes had past since I had last checked. I rolled over to lay on my side. I felt the flame's hand on my face.

No worries, no problems, no needs.

---

I trudged through the dense snowy-forest, ice crunching under paw, the seething wind howling, trees whipping around in it's ferocity. Ice pelted my face, even with a full set of gear. I used my arm as a shield against my invisible foe, whom tried with all of its might to knock me down.

I watched in horror, as suddenly, an uprooted tree was sent hurtling towards me.

I couldn't even make my legs move. I screamed. I screamed a scream that not even I could hear, for my voice was stolen by the wind, and carried far away. I shut my eyes tight, covering my face with my arms.

Silence.

The howling wind, the blizzard, the snow, it was all gone.

Slowly, I opened my eyes and brought my arms away from my face.

I was no longer standing, I was sitting. I was sitting on a chair surrounded by warmth, and the buzz of business.

I spotted a waitress walking towards me, a young, pretty fox. She had a small frame, and a kind face, looking to be in her mid-twenties. "Another round for you, Mr. Lars," she smiled, arriving at my table.

"Sure," I returned the warm smile, with a glance at her name-tag, "thanks, Jessica." I added with a wink.

With warm cheeks, she left back to the kitchen.

It's weird, I've never been in here before, but I must have, since Jessica knows me by name.

Jessica returned hastily, a small glass of whiskey in her grasp. She set it down and slid it over to me.

I watched the glass glide over the marble table, whiskey sloshing around inside of it's cube-like containment cell.

I thanked her and she told me to holler if I needed anything else. She smiled and nodded before scurrying off to satiate the customers of the busiest hour of the restaurant; not though, before returning my wink from earlier.

I held the whiskey in my hand, taking in it's strong scent.

I don't drink.

I raised the glass and tipped it towards my mouth. I felt it's warmth on my lips and closed my eyes as I enjoyed the rust-colored beverage.

After half a sip, I opened my eyes again.

My feet were, again, freezing. I had a heavy jacket, and a ski-mask on. I no longer held the glass, and the fuzzy feeling of alcohol soon left me.

I stood, blinking in the early morning light. Shimmering icy-blue walls flanked me on either side, darkness directly behind me, sunshine refracting from hanging icicles above. I stared out of the mouth of my frozen fortress and scanned my surroundings.

Snow lightly fell, each snowflake it's own icy planet.