FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The kingdom of Kevanim was at peace, not an arrow's flight or a sword's draw in nearly two years, an unspeakably calm time for the peasants and royalty alike, which was also an uncertain time, but one appreciated. When the cities had been nearly burned from the map by the wars of years before. Somehow the wars ended suddenly, efficiently, and Kevanim was victorious, when the odds were stacked so heavily against their forces, four rival armies had suddenly surrendered, no doubt out of fear of the ruthless commanders, or perhaps a miracle. The peace was simply unimportant to most though, who had their jobs laid out for them, the diplomacy and war of the regales were no concern to one Half Breed wolf and fox, tending to her feral chickens.

Wuf, the folf, was far from a regal, her life and shire remained unaffected through all conflicts, her only knowledge of the politics out of the view of the hills was what the town Crier would bark out every so often, her grey and black tail landing directly into a water trough as she turned around to face the elder fox walking into the fenced in area. "Has Sebastian done his rounds dear?" the elder asked, a hopeful smile on her face. "I'm afraid not, Myrtle, but you can simply have one if you've the gumption." Wuf replied, sighing aggravated at her now dampened tail. "I've not a complaint." The Elder said, wrapping her aged paw around the neck of a chicken, and grasping a cleaver from the nearby fence post, as she walked toward the bloodied log, Wuf walked past her, the audible thump of the log only audible as she walked inside her house.

"See you next time, lovely." The elder's voice could be heard saying, the audible clinks of shillings rolling under the wooden door. She sighed, looking to the window, cracked and dusty, her hut had seen better days, but after two different kingdoms, and three generations, it was aged, but in her position as a chicken farmer, there was little for her to do other than pray the hens laid, and the shillings would eventually amount to an escape, a slow but honest life, not a chosen one, but the one she was most used to, and had no intention of changing.

The wooden door creaked open, and in stepped Sebastian, the long haired middle aged bloodhound who assisted Wuf with her day to day farm work, his face usually filled with simple, humorous laugh lines, now baring a look of concern. "Seb, is all well?" Wuf asked, turning around to face him. "No, I am being re summoned." Sebastian said with a sigh, his gruff expression showing he was serious. "For what purpose?!, are the conflicts not over?" Wuf asked, clearly sharing his anger. "I fear not, there is always a place for an old jester." Sebastian replied.

Four years he had served as the court fool to the old king Frederich, and had even built a companionship, but during a war that took place even before Wuf was old enough to walk, the king had been slain in battle, when the new king rose, they did not have the same sense of humor and had Sebastian fired, and sent to toil as the peasants did, this was his life now, and to re summon him to the capital was equal parts insulting to exciting. "Under him? I am doubtful." Wuf said dismissively and walking toward her savings box, unlocking it with an old steel key and reaching for some of the shillings that lay in it.

Sebastian kindly placed his hand on her shoulder and shook his head. "If you take one coin from that box, I'll grab my lute, and we both know your windows won't resist another high note." Wuf only could chuckle as she embraced the old bloodhound, his arms wrapping around her frame in return. "You've no money to depart for Kevan, though." Sebastian simply shrugged and replied. "Our dear king has provided that." He said, walking toward the door, Wuf following behind.

The pair exited the hut, to observe the carriage outside, the majestically constructed wagon was nearly as large as the front of Wuf's home, the four feral stallions all purebred Clydesdale of white fur hitched to the front, as the door was opened by an armored guard, who stood in front of the now ajar door, his sword gleaming in it's sheath to the sun. "Sebastian, we've not the time for mucking about." a voice from inside the carriage beckoned. "He did before you rolled yourselves uninvited to my home." Wuf said, her anger clouding her judgement.

Sebastian who had already half entered the carriage had tried to speak but was stopped by the black leather gloved hand that placed itself upon his long hair, Sebastian went silent, looking to Wuf with a pained expression before going plain, and sighing "Please, do not cause a ruckus, my dear." He said, climbing into the carriage. "I...I..." Wuf was speechless, as the figure who had planted his hand upon Sebastian's head had walked forward and slowly exited the carriage, the armored guard taking a knee as he did. "Do you wish to file a complaint to the Crown of Kevanim" The man asked, as his nearly immaculate black boots landed on the dirt path below him.

She may not have been so educated as to know the details of the conflicts, politics, or even succession of royalty in Kevanim, but the faces of some would be impossible to not recognize, she just found herself in even further realms of speechless muttering as she matched the authoritarian glaze of the regal in front of her. "Father, father, it's the Blood-render!" said the excited voice of a young squirrel boy, walking with his father, his father simply nodding to the figure as they quickly ran in the opposite direction.

The man simply chuckled, his black and orange combination of armor and tailored robes and leathers, with an adorning cloak emblazoned with the coat of arms of Kevanim on his back, his weathered claymore clinking as he rested one hand upon it, his other on his belt, the dark orange fur of the purebred wolf nearly a perfect match to that of the Kingdom's colors. "Girl, answer my query." He said, looking back to Wuf.

Elykan, the Blood-render, the highest general in Kevanim's army. This wolf survived four seiges, and countless battles, he had earned his nickname through a rumor that his men had brought home with them, that he had destroyed an entire armada of forces simply by asking them to fall upon their blades, A story that Wuf believed as much as most, as a tall tale the royal family spun to add respect to their warrior, but nonetheless standing in front of the Wolf was terrifying, as his presence did render those under him fearful.

"I uh, I offer no complaint." Wuf replied, gazing at the General's weapon and bold form. "Very well, your slave's services are required for Princess Victoria's birthday celebrations, he shall be returned in four days time." Elykan firmly said. Wuf scoffed, and crossed her arms. "He's no slave, he chose to assist me." The General coyly grinned as he removed his hand from the hilt of his sword and leaned down, running his hand over the blond hair of the Folf. "He has not a choice, nor do you in this matter, now, enter your home, and silence yourself." Wuf wanted to slap him, his cocky grin, his regal demeanor, his arrogance, but she found herself walking back into her hut, and shutting the door calmly, as the audible clanking of the armored guard entering the carriage outside, whip crack, and departure was heard.

"A visit from the Blood-render, what an honor!" Said the elder Fox from earlier, in a hollar more meant for the neighbor. "Eehh, that half-breed is a lucky one!" Replied another neighbor, Wuf felt her heart racing, other than supplying the shire with chicken meat, she'd not had this much attention, and it wasn't setting in well, but more concerning to her than the feeling of the entire shire bearing witness to the sudden, unwelcome visit of the General, was how she simply walked away as Sebastian was taken, and how calmly he entered the carriage in the first place.

Later that night, as she laid upon her uneven feathered mattress, Wuf tossed and turned in a dream, helpless feeling washing over her, her skin burning, her anxious breathing sending her upward with a start, her free hand gripping a dagger she had tucked under her pillow, as she held it at the ready against a non existent enemy. Taking a deep breath, she re hid the dagger, and sat up, striking a match to her lantern as she made her way outside toward the cesspits to relieve herself. Upon returning to the hut, she placed her hand on the door, as a feeling of dread sank in, her eyes looking to the note placed firmly and elegantly on the wall of her hut, the coat of arms of Kevanim. She took the note in her hand and using the light of her lantern read the text, feeling as if she was being watched, she walked inside and shut the door as she did, the words almost being spoken inside her mind, she dropped the note, taking a step away from the note.

"Wuf of yonder shire, thou hath been beckoned to Kevan City, under order of General Elykan the Blood-render. thine chariot shall departe in the time of four suns. Thou presence be mandatory under punity of the Crown"

What could that egotistical, tyrannical barbarian want, why her, why now? None of that scared her deeper than the sudden, sharp realization, those words from before...

"He has not a choice...nor do you..."