FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Gisha blinked the haze from her eyes, realizing she was pinned on her back. Her heart rate jumped a handful of beats, then returned to its normal rhythm as her eyes, six to be exact, adjusted to the world's atmosphere.

Oxygen, she discovered, closing her gills as she sucked in one mouthful of air at a time. Breathing came a little easier now, and as her head ceased its throbbing, she squinted at the shadows to her right.

The jump between worlds and planes alike was never pleasant, and she never knew quite where she was going. Only when she left, and when she arrived.

Zek. She winced when she tried to move. Whatever had fallen on her wasn't something she could quickly dismiss and roll away from. The hard material bit into her ribs, and she was almost certain she had a cracked breastplate somewhere, if not worse.

Go slow. Wiggling her fingers, she found all ten as well as her palms and wrists to be unharmed. She went further now, taking a shallow breath as to not experience a stab to her chest or abdomen. She moved up her arms, one breath at a time, testing the scales on the top as well as the exposed flesh of her underarms for bruising.

Still good. The plating on her shoulders likely saved her from a crushing blow. She already knew she could move her head, so a spinal injury didn't come off as much of a concern. Still, moving the wrong way during a post-jump inspection could change that rather fast.

She walked her finger pads up the side of her neck, feeling three gills on either side. They also were left unscathed. No nicks. Not even a tear. Her face was next. The bone-like ridges above her eyes were sore, but other than that, her snout, nostrils and cheekbones were just as untouched as the rest of her.

However, when she reached up to check the ivory bones jutting from the top of her skull, she grimaced. Zek. Zek, zek, zek!

"No, no, no," she hissed under her breath, fingering the sizable gouge in one of her horns. "This won't do. This won't do at all."

For the Otherworlders, their horns were something to cherish, to look after and keep in fair condition. The length, shape and health of her horns was something Gisha prided herself on. Of all the other researchers, she'd been the one with a pristine track record.

A crack to the breastplate may have been painful and dangerous, but at least those healed! An Otherworlder's horns only grew once, from the time they were born to the time they either broke off or the individual passed away.

Gisha exhaled. And they were just starting to curve, too, she thought, tears of frustration burning at the backs of her eyes. Zek this planet. Zek the elders. And zek this trip!

Closing her eyes, Gisha took a moment to collect her thoughts, pulling her hand away from the injured horn before continuing her inspection. She paused once she found where the object pinning her had first contacted her skin. It lay on her right side, just above the hip, reaching across her chest. She couldn't tell if the hip was sore, bruised, fractured or broken without moving what appeared to be a strong metal beam from her body.

So, holding her breath and with great care, she placed her hands under the beam and pressed upwards. Even with her masculine physique, she couldn't get as much leverage as she would've liked. She could've called for help, but without knowing where she was, what creatures inhabited this place or the language of their world, her cries would've gained unwanted attention.

You can do this. You've faced far worse. She'd tumbled down cliffs, been bitten, cut and shot. Getting pinned by a beam was nothing.

At least those injuries were localized. There was still no telling just how bad her injuries were until she could get the protruding metal away from her skin.

She placed her palms around the underside of the beam once more, arcing her back while using her long, reptilian tail to press her hip away from the ground. Her right leg burned, and as she pressed her beautiful horns into the hard soil, she was finally able to get the beam up and off.

Gisha let the pillar drop at her side, wincing as much from its heavy thud as the gut-wrenching crack that came from somewhere above her head.

Pressing her palms against the ground, she sat up, slowly, resisting the urge to shake her head when the world spun around her. She closed her eyes, drew in a handful of tiny breaths, then tried to breathe even deeper. The crack in the left side of her breastplate hadn't gone as deep as she expected. The beam had damaged the large scale, but the flesh underneath was just fine.

Not that having an injury on a new world before she could even begin her research was ideal, but it could've been worse. So much worse.

While her torso was largely plated, the scaling on her stomach and abdomen was fine, covered in a plush layer of fur for added protection. She wore no clothing as she honestly had no need for it.

The static of what sounded like a radio filled the air. Gisha bowed her head and pressed her fingers to a gem at the base of her neck, just above her vocal cords.

"Yes?" she hissed as she went to stand.

"Why have you not reported back? It's been hours."

The General. Great. "If you'd bothered to look at my readings, as I know you usually do, you may have seen I was otherwise occupied."

"I did. Your adrenaline was up, as were other, less obvious hormones. I thought--"

"I lost a horn, Sir." She released a breath of air as she inspected the growing crack to one of the horns on the left side of her skull. Am losing one.

"You know that would result in a different readout entirely. Stop making excuses, scout. You're running late. Get a move on it. I expect a report within the hour."

The static of her com abruptly stopped, and Gisha tapped the gem once more to turn it off.

Right.