Slutcat and Sworddog #30
#32 of Slutcat
A Dog's Tale.
In which Sworddog gets her own much-deserved post. I only wish I could pose her more, but options are limited.
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"Oh FUCK!" Sworddog thought as she saw her friends go over the falls while she raced to get back to them, too late.
"Maybe it won't be so bad. Maybe it ends just a few feet down," she thought as she ran to the edge to peer over.
She was soon disabused of that hope.
"SLUTCAT!"
No answer.
"SLUTCAT!!!"
Nothing. But worse was that, with the noise from the waterfall, she could be just a few feet away and still couldn't hear.
"Oh FUCK!" Sworddog thought again. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck."
She looked at the rocky sides of the waterfall. No way she could go down that way. She'd have to take a path. She looked around and found a likely one on the right side of the falls and started the long trot down.
A bridge crossed the falls not far below, but looking over, Sworddog saw nothing but miles of falls continuing on below her.
"Dammit Slutcat, why did you have to go over with her?" she thought as she went back off the bridge to the trail. "I liked her too, but now both of you are gone!"
"SLUTCAAAAAAAT!" she called, knowing full well there was no way she would be heard.
"Well, it was bound to happen. Now, here I am. Stuck in Old-time Skyrim alone. The only sentient talking dog, and not a soul here who knows where I come from," she thought.
"I'll probably be killed as a devil or something, and no psychomechanics available to show I'm anything else. Dammit, Slutcat, I miss you already!"
"Miss WHO?" said a dog she hadn't noticed, sleeping in some flowers near the trail.
"WHAT THE FUCK!?!"
"Hi! I'm Barbas! But you were saying... who do you miss?" the creature said in a heavily accented but perfectly understandable speech.
"I... Um... A friend. Slutcat. Who the fuck are you, and why can you talk? Dogs can't talk until the Great Genesplice revolution that won't happen for thousands of years!" Sworddog asked, flummoxed.
"Oh, I'm not really a dog. My master just likes me this way. Slutcat eh? Funny name for a friend."
Sworddog sighed. "Funny friend. But it describes her to a T."
"I see. Say, you wanna fuck or something?" asked Barbas.
"Hell yes, but I can't right now. My friend went over the falls and I'm trying to find her."
"Them," Barbas corrected, sniffing Slutcat's ass.
"Them? What do you mean? How did you know she was with a friend too?"
"I didn't. I meant, by now your friend will be in multiple sections. You're looking for them."
"Fuck, you're probably right."
"So then, you've got nothing better to do! Your ass smells good. Hell, I might even impregnate you! Not sure if I'm really a dog or not as far as that goes."
"Wait, if you're not a real dog, why did you smell my ass?"
"Instinct comes with the package. Maybe. Or maybe I just like to sniff asses. I dunno!" Barbas pondered.
Sworddog considered his offer, but decided against.
"Sorry Barbas, I need to find out about my friend first. You wanna come with me?"
"Na. I gotta wait here. Master said. But maybe I'll see you again sometime?"
"Sure! Your ass smells good too. If we meet again, let's fuck."
"Sure thing," Barbas said as she turned to continue down the trail. "It's a date!"
"HEY!" he called a moment later.
"Yeah?"
"What's your name?"
"Just call me Sworddog!" she called back.
"Because of the sword on your back, right?"
"You got it!"
"Okay! I'll be on the lookout for you!"
"See you later Barbas!" she said, and began calling for her friend again.
Finally Sworddog rounded a corner and saw that she was finally at the bottom of the falls. She looked up and up to where they originated high, high above, and her hopes were dashed.
At best, she probably was looking for "them" now.
But she saw nothing, of course. Not even the flash of the bright red air mattress. Nothing but water, mist and rocks.
She crossed the bridge at the bottom of the falls and looked over its edge. The mist from the falls dampened her fur a little, but she didn't care.
Slutcat had always been a friend to her, even back where they'd come from. Their bodies were too different to be more than friends, but no matter what had happened, they'd always had each other. Sisters of a sort, she supposed. But now her friend was gone. Dogs don't cry, but they do howl.
She let out a howl for her friend, then stepped back away from the falls.
"Well, better figure out what you're going to do now, Sworddog," she thought to herself. "Looks like you're on your own."
She looked around and spotted some smoke from a small village on the far side of the lake at the bottom of the falls.
Then she looked closer.
"Holy SHIT! Is that?!..."
She began to run.
