FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Her paw pads stepped lightly over the threshold and rose onto the cool, silken floor. She arched her waist back a fraction so the low doorframe brushed the tips of her tall ears. Her elegant silhouette fell across the nearby finished garments; their delicate weave betrayed exquisite craftsmanship, casting a soft, dark-gold halo. Xeevnarian foxes were renowned for their petite, slender builds. This visitor’s ears rose long and fine as bamboo leaves, her hind legs long and lush, her bearing towering well above the fox shopkeeper.

She lifted the hem of her skirt lightly and settled into the seat, bare shoulders resting against the chairback. Beneath the side drape, her hind legs showed a gradient from warm orange to deep black. One crossed elegantly over the other, the line from toes to knee sumptuous and flawless. Only when seated could she meet the standing shopkeeper at eye level.

The little shop resembled a delicate painting from an academy studio. With her inside it, the painting became a treasure framed upon carved beams and painted rafters.

“Shopkeeper—”

She tilted her head slightly, sharp ears turning toward the male fox.

“Madam, this humble shop is infinitely honored.”

He steadied his breathing, suppressed the tremor in his voice, and bowed deeply.

“To craft a gown for you is already a priceless honor. We never imagined such an opportunity.”

The curtain drifted aside. A low-cut evening gown in muted yet luxurious tones emerged from the wardrobe beside him. A holographic projection filled in the lady’s figure, adding the final spark to the artwork. A few clean lines formed the axis, flaunting the customer’s tall, perfect proportions. Sparse, refined colors harmonized with her darker-than-average fur, turning her into something like a walking sunset.

“Miss, the down at the gown’s neckline comes from fabric of the Xeevnunsonson sector, from the renowned PurePaw Workshop. We…”

The honored guest shook her head, showing little interest in lengthy explanations. She leaned forward with fresh curiosity. Beneath cream-colored collarbones, black-furred forearms half-veiled her full breasts. Then her forepaw rose to her own shoulder.

“Help me try it on.”

“Uh… eh?”

Click.

The shoulder clasp released. The fabric bloomed open like petals and slid down. Half her soft body caught the lamplight, the fruit at its tip bare to the air. Her arm span was far wider than the shopkeeper’s. Save for the absence of feathers, the motion of her raised arm resembled a black swan spreading its wings.

Whoa!

The shopkeeper recovered. “Miss, I’ll fetch our female assistant, I—”

“That would be too slow.”

Her other forepaw moved to the opposite clasp. Pop. The right side of her top slanted and slipped halfway down. In the lamplight, the shadows of her navel and abdominal lines became an inscription across her cream-colored belly.

“Boss,” came an employee’s voice through his earpiece.

“Don’t dodge! Noble foxes don’t mind servants seeing them naked… I read it on the forums, it should be reliable. Just obey her!”

The fabric fell with a soft, smooth whisper. Between the displayed curves and the painstakingly tailored cut stood only one flustered fox. Long legs slipped free of the trousers; silver rings on her inner thighs caught the shopkeeper’s bewildered gaze. Elegant toes spread and clenched, pressing feather-down indentations into the rug.

Obey her. Obey her.

“I’ll open the box for you—hey!”

The shopkeeper retrieved his proud creation from the display case, only to have it snatched away before he could decide where to rest his eyes.

“Help me.”

Glossy fur covered limbs whose bones and curves proclaimed dazzling youth. The visitor was so tall that the shopkeeper’s eyes barely reached her chest—and the two full swells there.

“Madam, this…”

“Hurry.”

The circle is the most graceful shape in the universe. The arcs and curves that form it are the strokes that write the word “elegance.” Dark-gold curves glowed with halos under the warm light. The shopkeeper’s task was to drape upon them another curve woven of silver thread. Her near-black legs were longer than any fox’s limbs; even a shopkeeper who had measured countless customers had never seen their equal. Her paw slipped into the opening at the gown’s spine; her tail brushed his side in passing. Deep-blue eyes, half-veiled by lashes, showed no hesitation at her own nudity.

A figure like this, like a crane… Truly worthy of a noble fox who walked beside the phoenix sovereign. Every stretch and flex of her limbs resembled the flourish of calligraphy.

Holding his breath, the shopkeeper performed his duty, fitting the gown’s hem to her hips and matching the velvet collar to her barely exposed collarbones. He rose onto his toes now and then—ears lowered, paw tips raised—to adjust the shoulder straps for her.

In the mirror the honored guest twisted her waist and lifted her legs. A trace of satisfaction, nearly imperceptible, softened her cool expression. The finishing touch: the moon of youth sparkled like diamond.

“Not bad. You’ve done what you’re supposed to.”

She adjusted the velvet knot at her neck without sparing him a glance.

“It is my greatest honor.”

The shopkeeper, nose damp with sweat, had no time to wonder whether “what you’re supposed to” meant making the dress or dressing her.

“Without honored guests like you, madam, our little shop could never earn any reputation among… nobles like yourself. We…”

“Then, until we meet again.”

“Eh?”

She left him with one last deep-blue glance and strode out with long, confident steps.

The hem of her gown stirred a light breeze before him.

“…Oh, take care! May the fox god light the path before your paws!”

Watching the tall figure recede, lingering fragrance clung to the doorframe. The shopkeeper barely heard his assistant’s hurried footsteps. “Boss, she hasn’t paid! Should I chase—ah, don’t pull my ears, boss!”

“That money doesn’t matter, you silly fluffball!”

“But that gown was really expensive. You stayed up so many nights for it.”

“No, no, no. Look, she must be some rebellious young miss from one of the great families. Foxes like her know nothing about things outside the palace. She probably doesn’t even realize custom orders require payment.”

“Um, then should we go to her family to collect? Ah—don’t tug my tail!”

“First, the family that follows her around settling bills might notice us. Second, she’ll wear the gown I made to certain events—that’s the best advertisement. A celestial noble wearing my work! That’s worth more than projecting our logo onto a dozen moons!”

The shopkeeper pulled his assistant into his arms.

“Kid, we’re going to get rich!”

……

Characters in this episode:

[Selen Strix]

A tall, seductive dark-gold female maned wolf with black fur on her limbs and muzzle.

Her bearing is cold and glamorous, her movements noble. The foxes believe she is of celestial blood.

[Garnetquill]

A slender, beautiful female red fox with a warm-gold body, black limbs, and snow-white fur on her chest, belly, and tail tip. She works part-time as a junior accountant outside her studies.

……

Selen Strix gave a slight nod and walked on tiptoe. Her paw prints on the carpet bloomed like plum blossoms—as a true noble would.

Foxes were blessed by the phoenix. The latter had glided down from the starry sky to the foxes’ grasslands. They whispered the secrets of the universe to the foxes and engraved the methods to surpass lightspeed on the title pages of their scriptures. Thus, fox culture took birds as its highest standard. Nobles bore bird surnames; commoners took bird names.

Her demeanor and attire followed the same principle. The gown’s long train reached the floor, shimmering like phoenix tail feathers. Her eyes narrowed; in her vision were the fluffy heads and ear tips of her fox business partners. Most of them lowered themselves slightly in the tension of first meeting a noble.

She sat, right leg crossed over left knee. The train and ankle chain left silver arcs in the air. Her bare shoulders tilted back slightly; every fox present was beneath her jawline. One glance revealed the partners’ roles—the longest whiskers belonged to the head fox, the most immaculate attire to the rules advisor. This one lacked confidence, that one looked like he was drafting a speech in his head, another was suppressing the urge to peek, and yet another…

A young warm-gold vixen. Her brows and fur were fresh and neat, almost radiating sunlight. Constrained by status, her body was lowered like the others’, but her amber eyes disobeyed, staring straight at Selen Strix without much concealment. She seemed far too young compared to the rest. The daughter of one of the other executives?

In such gatherings, few dared meet her gaze. A pretty little fox kit was the exception. But Selen Strix did not let her eyes linger—every smile or frown calibrated to the millisecond by long experience. The fuel of a noble halo was precise manipulation of fox hearts.

The final moment was used to regulate her breathing, making her voice as cold and clear as autumn mist.

“I trust you are all well, gentlemen.”

……

Selen Strix turned her face aside. Lamplight traced the perfect shape of ear tips and jawline. The smile at the corner of her mouth was one that inferiors rarely dared approach, letting cold sweat on the back of necks sink into shadow.

Selen Strix needed the foxes to believe her. Believe in her birth, her wealth, her ability, her connections, everything. With words, with service, with bearing, with expression, with charm, and even with psionic tricks…

“…My clan will share this price difference with you all. Half each is enough.”

She forced herself to slow the movement of her gaze, using her peripheral vision to observe the little vixen.

Amber.

Those amber eyes hid among the foxes’ fur colors and the hall’s décor. Striking. So striking.

“…Madam, our firm must still respectfully request a little more. After all, the soil of Xeevnungara is not suited to fruit cultivation. Our transportation costs may be slightly higher than you anticipated…”

Selen Strix knew the young vixen was still staring at her. The other had even tilted her head slightly—that was an instinct engraved in fox genes, used to precisely gauge distance and speed while hunting.

She pretended to close her eyes while secretly watching the little vixen’s expression. “Well, well, well. I wonder if your astro-assistant reminded you: the next time a cargo ship enters the Xeevna system, this planet’s orbital position will be closer to the Xeevnusonson hyperspace entrance. That means—”

She disliked the look on the girl’s face.

She opened her eyes and drew a line with her fingertip from her own ear root to her collarbone. “Sublight travel time will be shorter.”

The number and duration of times the young vixen looked at Selen Strix had long exceeded the threshold. Selen Strix was certain something was sprouting in the girl’s heart. Doubt. What was sprouting was doubt. Look—those amber pupils kept switching between Selen Strix and her own boss. She was almost forcing herself not to speak.

“‘Shorter’ can save nearly twenty percent of transit time. That brings substantial cost reductions. Therefore—”

She lowered her voice and leaned forward slightly, bare shoulders slowly inclining toward the foxes.

“Selen Strix does not believe that cost-based concessions are reasonable.”

Her voice was low as a whisper. Her right forepaw slipped behind her back. Purple psionic flame ignited at her fingertips. The flame stirred a breeze that carried the whisper to every fox. Back and forth, the thin psionic stream stole the girl’s thoughts.

Selen Strix could hear her own heartbeat, could hear the faint friction of her fur. The former came from fear of doubt; the latter from the young vixen’s frequent blinking. The little vixen was doubting something. She had noticed the flaw her own boss had missed.

Thump.

Thump.

It was a report.

She wanted to report it.

Selen Strix read the girl’s mind. The little vixen wanted to leak some secret to the others.

Cold sweat slid down her spine.

The down on the girl’s neck looked like milk-white morning light. Her heartbeat quickened by two beats. Selen Strix wanted the little vixen to keep that pink-nosed mouth shut. She wanted to sink her fangs into warm, fluffy softness.

Yet she did not lose composure. No soul in the room could detect anything amiss with the celestial noble. Long years of performance let her force her paw tips back and draw a small semicolon over the meeting with her ethereal voice.

“Furthermore, do any of you have objections?”

↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓

To a psionic, the emotions of the masses were like colorful spider silk drifting in the air. One end at the observer’s heart, the other at the observed spirit. Calm yourself and distinguish the colors of the threads, and you can always find prey waiting at the end.

A warm-gold thread floated among the carved beams and painted rafters. The club was set in a high tower that rose above the clouds, so the VIP suites were always at the end of the corridors and halls.

“Go back. Do not appear before me again.”

The command held no warmth. Her gaze did not lower for the attendant even a moment. She excluded the increasingly dim thread of the retreating servant. The warm-gold strand belonging to the prey almost began to leap.

The fresh scent unique to a young fox was nearby. She had never lost a quarry, let alone one who had dared approach her true identity.

And her fox quarry was right there—dressed in an oversized shirt, slender arms bound behind her back, black-furred feet neatly together, standing gracefully. The little vixen panted, gazing straight at her just as she had during the earlier meeting.

“Sister!”

“…”

Selen Strix walked toward her; the girl trotted on tiptoe toward her—as if the chill in her eyes did not exist.

This bold? She truly wanted to flaunt the truth in front of her? With those watery amber eyes and willow-leaf natural eyeshadow, smiling in declaration of war?

The girl rose onto her toes, forepaws behind her back, tilting her face up.

“Sister… heehee…”

The little vixen who had followed her all the way was damp; the fur at her temples curled naturally from moisture. The fabric clung to her youthful contours, catching a faint halo from the lamps.

“…My name is Garnetquill. During the negotiation I discovered…”

A smile like a little sun.

“…a secret none of the others noticed. I… mmm!”

Selen Strix seized the girl’s cheeks, imprisoning the watery voice and glistening lips beneath her own. Her other forepaw grabbed the collar, lifting the much smaller fox entirely off the ground. Mmm, mmm, mmm—every word the girl had not yet spoken was plundered by voracious sucking, turning instead into suddenly racing heartbeats. The light body was pulled into her arms; warm thighs rested on Selen Strix’s forearm. The amber pupils visibly contracted. Sweet, sticky whimpers leaked from between their mouths and noses.

The prey’s mouth was sealed, then her back and calves were embraced. In a daze the little vixen was on the bed; the corridor background behind her sister switched to the bedroom chandelier. A tongue scraped her gums; fingertips wandered her spine. She unconsciously arched her chest and belly, only to be pressed back down by a palm on her abdomen.

“Mmm!”

The tongue withdrew from her lips. The conqueror’s graceful cunning hovered only inches away.

“Sister…”

Slender fingers pressed against her mouth and nose. The dominant figure became a silhouette against the lamplight.

“Hush—”

“Mmm—”

Numbness spread from the tip of her heart. She obeyed without hesitation, as if born to be the other’s watery little maid. Beneath the superior’s lashes, deep-sea eyes reflected the trembling tips of the girl’s brows. The other’s limbs were long and lustrous, making the girl beneath her seem like a pup. Fingertips traced her jaw, moved along her cream-colored neck to her collarbones. The collar tie formed a delicate little flower; pinching the calyx would make it bloom. Breath dampened Selen Strix’s paw. A hundred-flower tassel spread across youthful mounds. She leaned down again, muzzle reaching the girl’s eye. She licked the glistening corner of her eye, then opened the second button. Fangs grazed black-and-gold fox ears; fingers freed the third hidden clasp beneath the overlapping collar. Long claws slipped under the lapel, stroking the delicate skin over her heart amid whimpers.

Thump, thump.

She gently parted the collar. Snow-white mounds swelled like fruit on branches. Fingertips climbed to the peaks, lightly brushing the slightly raised little beans. One-two-three-four, her claw tips swept over them in sequence, making the body beneath tremble with the rhythm. One-two-three-four, again and again. She stroked round after round until honey-like gasps spilled out.

“Ahh…”

“Mmm, ah—”

She drew out the sounds, repeating the girl’s moans like a pup learning to speak.

Her paw closed around them. Gently squeezing the soft clouds, long black-satin knuckles moving over the snowy-white breasts.

“Ah!”

“Ah—”

To her, the teardrops at the corner of the girl’s eyes and the misty breath from her nose were as addictive as the scent of prey’s blood.

She was so wicked, wicked like the hawk-owl in fairy tales that would snatch away fox maidens. The girl’s hind legs slid lightly on the sheets, her shins pressing against Selen Strix’s knees. She drew her limbs in tighter, confining the sweet prey with her exposed chest in an even smaller cage. Another round of kneading, and the girl’s hind legs kept pressing together while her body trembled uncontrollably beneath the much taller sister. The girl beneath her was far smaller and softer; she knew the size difference had ignited some fear the moment she pinned her down. But a struggling quarry was the cutest, wasn’t it?

Her muzzle reached the girl’s neck. She opened her mouth wide, sinking her fangs into the soft down. The forepaw’s movements followed the rhythm of her muzzle; every squeeze was accompanied by pretend tearing bites. The little vixen’s paws rested on Selen Strix’s ribs amid whimpering moans, pushing lightly for a moment before hesitantly sliding upward, unsure whether she was resisting or clinging.

“Mmm, sister…”

“Calling me anything is too late now, little sister.”

“Sister, I found… I found…”

“Hush—shut your mouth.”

Amber eyes shimmered with moisture, rippling with each breath. The glistening waves fell upon Selen Strix’s chest, upon the magnificent curves beneath the evening gown.

“What are you looking at?”

“…!”

The girl’s ears flattened against the back of her head like a pup caught misbehaving.

Selen Strix laughed. This little vixen who dared threaten her with the truth was nothing but an unripe fruit. A few pecks and kneads would warm and ripen her, then squeeze honey from the ravaged places.

Her forepaw followed the waistline to the hips, skimming the stamen through the fabric like a dragonfly touching water. It slipped under the short split skirt and pinched the outer thigh without mercy. The girl’s soft cry stretched long; her elegant legs trembled, caught between advance and retreat. Scorpion-like knuckles slid toward the petals, unsurprisingly dampened by dew. The scorpion wandered, probed, and pecked left and right among the petals. The little vixen’s garnet pupils visibly contracted. She whimpered and struggled, using hands, feet, and tail to rub against the superior’s cage.

“Eek… Sister, I found…”

Peck her, sting her, bind her.

“I… mmm!”

The little vixen’s voice grew softer and more ruined, nearly drowning in her own pleasure.

“Mmm-eek…”

Peck, sting, bind.

“I know… ah-mmm!”

The fingertips of her left forepaw invaded the girl’s lips. Warm, slick moisture gilded the back of her luxurious dark-gold hand. I know, I know… She almost rolled her eyes. Still threatening me even now? Her knuckles curled, the stimulation at the root of the tongue nearly making the girl convulse. Only her thumb and pinky remained on the girl’s cheeks; her right paw’s invasion never paused.

Threaten.

“Mmm! Ohh!”

Threaten?

“Mmm-eek! Ohh!”

Tears overflowed with the invasion of her mouth. Floodwaters surged together with her sister’s interrogation.

The little vixen’s eye makeup smudged, leaving golden, glistening streaks on her pretty face. She instinctively pushed at Selen Strix with her paws, only to be crushed deeper into the mattress by the other’s weight.

“Mmm… eek…”

Threatening and resisting at once. Showing teeth that barely counted as fangs before her.

Selen Strix’s patience burned a little more, flowing down to congeal into merciless desire for power in front of the girl. The petals kissed her claw tips; every inch of down was soaked and matted. The huntress gave the girl no moment to breathe. The sounds of water and whimpers mixed; struggling and convulsing never stopped. Thump-thump—the girl’s heartbeat was almost audible outside her own chest. Her pupils contracted with every motion of Selen Strix’s right paw. Oh dear, even the mouth amid the flood still wanted to quibble and threaten. The little vixen held the long claws in her mouth; the words her throat could not utter tickled her sister’s fingertips.

“Mmm!”

Selen Strix leaned down. Even her gums itched from the girl’s breath. Her eyes were only inches from the girl’s messy, beautiful little face. Their pupils locked. She rarely misread anything in a gaze. Her right paw changed speed and force, never letting the snowy little belly ebb. Yet the prey’s eyes refused to dim even at the peak and trough of the tide. Selen Strix had rarely seen such a gaze—only in foxes whose minds she needed to burn out with psionics.

You really won’t give up? Hmm?

She was almost pressed fully against the girl, soft breasts colliding like clouds against clouds.

The girl shook her head in struggle, as if refuting a voice she had heard in her heart.

Selen Strix knew. The little vixen still wanted to spit out words she disliked.

“You brought this on yourself.”

She dragged the girl over, flipping her onto her front so she knelt bowed beneath her. Selen Strix was far taller than foxes; the girl, who was not short among foxes, was almost a toy in her paws. The right paw that had temporarily left the petals returned to the girl’s side—underarm, breasts, ribs, hips. Then, like a scorpion finding soil, it crawled finger by finger to the edge of the petals. She paused, letting the girl who was staring intently at the right paw freeze for one second, two seconds.

The instant the girl wanted to speak, the paw slipped inside, returning to the petals amid unprepared whimpers. The little vixen cried and melted, only to be propped up at the tail root by her sister’s knee. The claw tips came and went, never letting the prey rest.

Kneel. She commanded silently.

The girl turned to soft clay under the dominant’s guidance, collapsing between Selen Strix’s legs. Beside the little vixen’s face were her sister’s calves; the muscle lines beneath black fur pressed close to her mouth and nose. She whimpered and whimpered, her breath condensing around the silver ornament on Selen Strix’s ankle. She no longer gave her a chance to open her mouth. The fingertips moved like fish slipping into a water cave—hook, stroke, tickle, again and again. Crystalline liquid flowed from nail to wrist. If the little vixen wanted to run, she would clamp this ignorant, arrogant bad child even tighter. The warm-gold head could not move; the flood-damp tail root trembled with every motion between the claws.

“Sister is starting to like you, little thing.” Selen Strix slowed her movements. Psionic magic clamped the girl’s lips. She laughed, watching crystal and moans spill together from between teeth and gums. “But once some things leave your mouth, what happens next is no longer up to you.”

Silly girl. You shouldn’t have been clever enough to see through my disguise, bold enough to face me directly, or arrogant enough to threaten me with the truth.

The little vixen moaned. Instinct pushed her to drown in pleasure; reason shouted for her to make futile resistance. But this tide was not enough. Selen Strix needed several times the pleasure to fuel the spell that would melt memory. Amber eyes soaked in tears, the girl looked up at the sister above her, shedding helpless tears yet stubbornly lifting her head. She gazed into Selen Strix’s eyes. The faint purple between the superior’s long eyes gradually brightened, then ignited with cold flames—the warmup for a more powerful psionic spell.

Memory and emotion were like countless threads: woven into a spiderweb, ingenious yet fragile as moss. Overload the body with climax, then burn the thoughts with psionic magic. Fire borrows wind to ignite the soul; the collapse of the spirit would bury the memory of the truth.

Psionic tide flowed from purple faint eyes into amber ones. The girl convulsed toward the peak. The motions between the claws stopped, but her body continued trembling in aftershocks, replaying the rhythm of the superior’s invasion. The little vixen was hot as if freshly baked, wet as if freshly bathed. Her feet kicked in release, yet her cheek pressed tightly against Selen Strix’s limb.

“Little thing, you really are a bad girl. I like clever girls, but you only leave me the broken ones.” Selen Strix lightly pecked Garnetquill’s forehead. Her claw tips lovingly squeezed the softness of her chest. Amid whimpers and loving cries, she licked the warm-gold ear, kissed the tear-streaked eyeshadow. She continued to ignore the whimpers from the girl’s lips, refusing to let her speak those poisonous truths. She had grown fond of this clever little thing and wanted to possess her a while longer before taking her memory. The sun slanted westward; the glow between the sheets took on a warm tint.

Selen Strix had to leave. Her life was countless lies and performances; she could not miss the next one. Otherwise everything she had directed would collapse like dominoes, stripping this maned wolf bare and hurling her back beneath the lamps of the slums.

Forget everything—this is the punishment for seeing through Selen Strix: I am not a slum maned wolf. I am forever your foxes’ noble.

Not a moment could be wasted.

Claw tips lifted the girl’s fluffy chin. The magic clamping her lips dissolved.

“Your last words.” Selen Strix’s eyes blazed with even more brilliant flames. Currents from beyond the physical universe converged into a flood that would strip away memory. She only waited for the last words before releasing the torrent.

Thump.

The girl crawled up from her own mess and threw herself into Selen Strix’s arms.

“Sister…”

“I’ll give you five seconds. Five…”

“Sister, you’re so amazing…”

“Four.”

“I’ve never experienced anything like this before.”

“Three…” Don’t soften. This isn’t the first time you’ve burned a fox’s memory.

“But I have to tell you…”

“Two.”

“The contract has a trap.”

“Huh? What?”

The psionic flames that could overpower sunset extinguished in an instant. The world’s colors returned from faint purple to warm gold.

“A trap? Your so-called ‘truth’ is a contract trap?” Selen Strix gripped the girl’s bare shoulders.

From the beginning, Garnetquill had never realized Selen Strix was not a fox noble.

The little vixen swallowed a sob, slowly kneeling upright with feet together. The remnants of tide on her lower belly and waist, and the crystal at the corner of her mouth, reflected the sunset glow.

“I just double-checked the contract details and found a very hidden clause! It… it’s buried in the appendix. The payment calculation method isn’t an ordinary discount at all—it’s a compound function! That means… on the surface they enjoy a discount, but the actual payment amount increases with each period! If we don’t handle it in time…”

She held Selen Strix’s forepaw and pressed those long, wet fingertips to her own chest. Thump-thump. The girl’s heartbeat transmitted through the predator’s forelimb. “We’ll bury all the profits inside. I…”

From the beginning, the girl had never harbored the slightest thought of blackmailing her. Please, please! Please say you didn’t see through my lie!

Selen Strix forced her mouth shut and leaned down to pull the girl into her arms again.

“What about the other truths?” She lightly bit Garnetquill’s ear tip, unable to hide the tremor in her voice.

I don’t have to take her memory. I don’t have to burn her soul.

“My employers won’t listen to me,” the little vixen sobbed, as if venting all the grievances she had suffered in bed as well. “They refuse to see me. I… I could only come to sister. I… mmm—”

A tongue pried open lips and teeth, greedily sucking at the girl. She pulled her tightly into her arms as if embracing all the wealth in the world. She let the girl cry against her chest and swore to every star beneath the sky that she would tolerate everything about her. It was as if she had never kissed before in her life; she kissed the damp girl wildly from ear tip to tail tip.

“I’ll handle the contract. I will.” Selen Strix swore to her garnet.

Before rushing to the next performance of charm and cunning, she possessed only the space of a finger snap.

Before rushing to the next performance of charm and cunning, she possessed everything in the world.

(End of episode. Series to be continued.)