FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

I still didn't know what I was. Even after all the time I had spent searching. There were parts of me that resembled something canine, like my nose, and the shape of my head, but no canine I had ever met grew my one-of-a-kind mixture of blue and black fur. The tufts on my ear tips added more mystery, and my tail looked like a merging of fox and a wolf. But most important of all were my purple eyes. There was always something about a person's eyes that seemed to give away their species. It was a sort of sixth sense to me, and yet my eyes told me nothing about who I was. I was a complete, unsolvable mystery.

Staring at my reflection in the calm waters of the forest pond, I tried to figure it out again. I had made a routine of this, thinking that one day I might wake up on a unique morning and recognize myself. Of course, once again I came no closer to finding out what I was or where I came from than any other time before. I leaned away from the water and stared up into the canopy of the forest, letting my mind wander. Though I couldn't see the sky through the thick web of pine tree branches, I could see rays of light finding their way from the clear sky to me. They turned the air to gold, and made the forest glitter.

Eventually I began to notice my campfire's warmth fading from my back. I took it as a signal to quit my obsessions for the day and prepare to set out through the forest. I stood up from the moist pond shore, stretching my body for the day's travels, still waking up from a night's rest on the firm forest floor.

I separated the glowing embers of the fire, using my boots to bury them in a layer of dirt until I was sure that they wouldn't burn down the forest. I hadn't made a tent for the night, opting instead to sleep on the ground, so I was able to clean up camp simply by picking up my already-packed bag, slinging it over my shoulder and onto my back. My short sword was already on my belt, but my bow, quiver, and arrows were set against a birch tree. I decided to carry my bow for the trip. Holding it in my hand had always come with a certain warm feeling, like holding a badge of honor, as if they made those for hunters.

I set out through the woods, crunching my boots against fallen leaves and sticks, and trying not to let my cloak or tail snag on any thorns. If I had to slow down to pick burs out of my fur, I might not make it to town. I had been craving a nice warm bed for the past week after going through months in the forest without one.

It took me the entire day to leave the great forest, though in total I had been hiking toward its exit for several full days. Like the rest of that trek, this day of hiking was uneventful, and after hours of walking I finally emerged from the forest's edge and into the small town which bordered it.

Briar was a simple village. It wasn't near any major roads, or any point of interest, and was so oddly placed that one might question why it was even there at all. Only a small community of furs lived in the town, and they didn't need more than a few buildings, with most built from wood that had been taken from the great forest. I had always thought that the place must have been a sanctuary for the people who lived there, as if they were running from something, but I had never stayed around long enough to learn if I was right.

I was stopping by the town to see Arya, a leopard who owned the local inn with her adopted, Tiger brother. So, I made my way there, finding the inn easily, as it was the biggest building among all the others.

I climbed the few steps leading to the old wooden door that was barely hanging on by its hinges. When I opened it for the first time in many months, sunlight poured around me, illuminating the dim interior of the inn until I stepped inside and closed the door. With the absence of the sun, the fire in the center of the inn took over, and warmed the room both with heat and light.

Arya wasn't anywhere that I could see, but her brother was working at the bar with his back turned to me. He was preparing some sort of food and drink, but I guessed that it was probably for himself. Other than the tiger, the inn was filled with nothing but cobwebs and lingering smoke.

So, I strode to the bar and set my pack of supplies on the floor. I took a seat, sure that Gram had heard the creak of floorboards on my way over. Strangely, his usually-sensitive ears failed him, and when he turned I could see the tiger jump with so much surprise that he might as well have been a tabby cat.

"Oh! Hello. Sorry, I didn't..." Gram pushed his food aside, as if to hide the bread and cheese he was preparing.

"It's alright Gram," I said. "Sorry for scaring you."

Gram frowned, studying me.

"Do I know you? And how do you know my name?"

Gram had never been great at recognizing guests. He had once told me that names and faces were like snowflakes to him. Every flake was different, but you could never remember any one particular design. Though I had stopped here more than a dozen times, I had to remind him.

"Well, still don't remember me as always? It's me, Skye. I'm Arya's friend."

It still took Gram a few moments, but he got it.

"Oh, Skye! Of course. You think I'd recognize the blue fur by now. Not many people with that color."

"Not any at all, actually," I muttered below my breath. "So, where's Arya?"

"She's out getting a new shipment of wine from Antler. The messenger just brought it into town. She'll be back soon."

Right on cue, the door to the inn opened. Arya appeared, pushing the door with her back and struggling to lift a crate of wine.

"Woah, let me help with that," I said as I left my chair. I grabbed a corner of the crate.

"Thanks," she grunted as we set it down on the bar counter. Arya let out a heavy breath and wiped dust off of her dress.

"Gram, why do I always get the wine? You're the strong one."

"You're the one who drinks it, so you're the one who goes to get it."

Arya growled at him as she finished wiping her dress. When she looked up at me her eyes lit up.

"Skye!" Arya threw her arms around me, so suddenly that I almost careened backwards. She giggled like a baby. "Oh, you're here! I haven't seen you in forever!"

"It's only been three months," I said.

"Don't ruin it."

When she finally released me from the hug Arya practically attacked the crate of wine that she had brought in, struggling to get it open.

"What are you doing, Arya?" Gram asked. "That wine needs to go to the cellar."

Arya finally managed to get the crate open.

"No, you dumb wagger! Skye's here! We're drinking all of this tonight."

"You're kidding," Gram said. He crossed his arms and tried to make himself look bigger, acting as if he was a great wall meant to block the way. "We need that wine, and you can't drink an entire crate of the stuff."

"Gram, I never kid about alcohol. As for drinking the entire crate, you two are gonna help."

An argument rose up as I stood there, awkwardly watching Arya and Gram debate about whether or not the wine was more valuable to us or to customers. They seemed to have completely forgotten about me, focused instead on their classic sibling feud. I imagined myself being a more confident archer and shooting the table between them with an arrow. That would get their attention. Arya would laugh. Then again, Gram would probably flip about the new hole in his bar counter.

I took a seat at the bar and relaxed until the argument got to a calmer point. Finally, I budged in.

"Hey, if you want I could be the customer who buys some of that wine off of you."

Arya had Gram by the extra skin of his neck, holding him like a kitten, her armed raised to hit him. She stopped and smiled at me.

"Yeah, bartender. Get the man some wine," she said. Gram rolled his eyes as she released him.

"Yes, your majesty."

Arya sat down in the seat next to me, acting like a pup who's eager to get a birthday gift.

"So? Did you find anything out there? Three months is way too long for nothing."

"No. I didn't find anything."

"Liar."

I smiled, happy to see that Arya was just as good at detecting a lie as ever before. I reached into my bag and brought out a large, golden dagger, placing it on the table in front of her. She immediately picked it up, gazing into the rubies that adorned the hilt, and studying the lettering engraved in the blade.

"I was tracking a group of mercenaries. They were suspected to have been a part of that riot in Malthas, and they might have known who caused it, so the town sent me into the forest to find their camp. Eventually I was able to find them. I kept my distance for a while, looking over anything they would accidentally leave behind in their camps for the night."

"And that's how you found the dagger?" Arya asked.

"No. I didn't find anything that way. These guys were careful. They didn't leave anything. They even buried their campfires and combed their camps for trash. Never left a trace."

"That doesn't sound like mercenaries."

"Exactly."

Gram set two goblets of wine down on the counter for us, and went to pour himself a third. Arya began to sip at hers, and we sidetracked, forgetting about the mercenaries and making small talk about the taste of the wine, which wasn't great, but wasn't terrible either. Eventually Arya got back on track.

"So how did you get the dagger?" she asked.

I had her hand me the blade, and pointed toward the edge of it, letting her get a better look.

"You'll notice there's some dried blood on it. What would be your first guess?"

Arya's eyes grew two times in size.

"You didn't pull it out of some dead fur's body, did you? Skye! I thought you were better than that."

I smiled and set the dagger back down onto the counter.

"I definitely didn't do that, which makes the whole thing much more interesting. I found the dagger in one of the mercenary campsites. Only problem is that this time the mercenaries weren't there. But unlike all of their other camps, their tents were still pitched, and their fire was still lit. Even their weapons and supplies were just sitting there. This dagger was right by the fire. Out of all the other weapons in the camp, this is the only one that had fresh blood on the blade when I found it, and it wasn't forged like any of the other blades in the camp."

"Interesting. So where did the mercenaries go?" Arya asked.

"There was blood on the dirt, right where I found the dagger. No body, just blood and signs of a fight. I think they were killed and taken. I don't know how, or by who."

"And I bet you'd like to find out."

"That's why I'm here."

Arya stared at the dagger for a while, contemplating something. Then she laughed and jumped up from her chair, taking her goblet and a lantern from the table.

"Gram, keep the wine out. We'll be back for it later."

"Will do," he said as he began to unpack more bottles. Arya signaled with her paw for me to come along, and I followed her into the usual dark room in the back of the inn.

Every time I walked into that room, I couldn't help but feel as if I had entered the storage attic of some grand library. Shelves of books lined the walls from floor to ceiling. Several tables were littered throughout, with more books piled on top of them. Other books were lying like dead birds on the floor. Yet nothing was dusty. Arya saw to keeping it all clean as if the books were as valuable as gold.

"I swear, you only like me for my books," Arya said, laughing.

"Do you think there's anything in here about where this dagger came from, then?"

Arya walked over to a seemingly random shelf and put down the lantern to light the room and start her search. I set the dagger down on a table and lit another lantern to join her.

"Might as well be. When else have my father's old books failed us? Books on this kind of thing were all he ever read. Smartest guy who ever lived in my opinion. What a shame."

Arya pulled a book from her shelf and opened it. She walked over to a table and, without closing or taking her eyes off of the pages, swept her arm across a table knocking a massive stack of books onto the floor. It made a loud crash that surprisingly reached Gram's ears.

"Careful in there!" he yelled from the bar. Arya ignored him.

"Put anything that might be useful here," she said, placing her book onto the table. I nodded and we continued the search.

In about an hour we had made a collection of at least thirty books on the table. Arya was finding them at a faster rate than me, of course, so after a while I simply began searching through the volumes that we had already picked out. Gram would occasionally interrupt us, asking if he could finally put away the wine. It was a request that he should have known Arya would never say 'yes' to. Eventually, he gave up, and brought a few bottles into the room with us, telling us not to spill any on the books.

When Arya stopped searching, we both read in silence with our feet up on chairs and tables. It was boring and quiet, but that was something I was used to. I was a hunter. In between kills, boring and quiet were good descriptions for the majority of what I did.

We found a matching description that could have linked the dagger to the ancient Clawyer civilization, but eventually came across the fact that they had a strong, probably religious aversion to rubies, and would never have used them to decorate a weapon. However, I made a note to explore a bit further if I ever I came across some of their ruins in the great forest again. I had learned a lot about the ancient cat race that could be useful there.

The Clawyer also didn't use the language of whatever was engraved on the blade. Arya and I couldn't decipher it, despite going through every book of language we could find in the room.

We worked late into the night, and the sun was already rising when Arya set her book down onto the table, still open. She picked up the dagger, examining it for the thousandth time. I was too absorbed in a book to notice that she was glancing back and forth from the dagger, to the book, to me over and over again.

Arya stood up, walking behind me, and I guessed that she was going to search for another book, so I kept reading. A few minutes passed, and Arya finally returned to her seat, setting the dagger down on the table again. She continued glancing back and forth from the dagger to me.

I eventually quit my reading and set my own book down.

"I don't think we're getting anywhere," I said.

"Well, you're wrong about that," Arya replied.

Before I could stop her, Arya picked up the dagger and began to dig the blade into the tip of her paw.

"What the hell are you doing?!" I jumped up and around the table, ripping the dagger away from her. A small amount of blood was leaking from her paw and pooling onto the table.

"Okay. So this is going to sound weird," she said. "The dagger was able to cut me."

"Well yeah! It's sharp." I grabbed a piece of cloth from my pack and wrapped it around her paw, applying pressure to the wound.

"But it wasn't able to cut you, Skye."

"Arya, we've been working hard all night. You're exhausted. We both need to get some sleep."

"The dagger is Eclyptian," she said. I paused at that, wondering if I had heard that word before, but continued to stop the bleeding on her finger.

"You've had too much to drink," I said.

"Of course not! You know drinking helps me think."

"Yeah, but not clearly."

Arya frowned, still staring at the dagger. When I had finished healing her finger, I helped her up to take her to her room upstairs. I laid her down and covered her with a quilt. She seemed like she was already half asleep, but as I left the room she managed to say some last words.

"Skye, I stabbed you with that dagger at least a dozen times while you weren't looking."

If I wouldn't have been focusing on getting some sleep myself, I probably would have been saying things that sounded just as crazy. We'd sort it out in the morning, after her hangover was cured.