FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Sylvie woke to a pounding on the door. A look at the clock beside the bed showed it to be 8 AM on the dot. Growling, she pulled herself up, wiping the drool from the side of her mouth as she stumbled down the hallway, trying to pull a t-shirt over her head. The pounding came again and Sylvie's stretch ended in closed fists. This is not the way to start the day. A third pounding started when Sylvie looked through the security hole at a knot bobbing at the bottom, almost out of sight. Giving a sigh, she opened the door.

"How can I--"

"One week rent due!" the landlady said, pointing her walking stick at Sylvie. She was a stereotypical mix of red panda and clipped English which Sylvie had initially found endearing and now loathed.

"Yes, Ms. Xi, I know. I'll have--"

"You have job?" Another stab of the walking stick. At four foot tall, Sylvie thought Ms. Xi wouldn't have far to fall if the stick was thrown across the road or unceremoniously shoved somewhere else.

"Yes, Ms. Xi. I start--"

"Rent due one week!" Ms. Xi said again, before tottering off, muttering something in Mandarin.

Eyes closed, Sylvie ground her teeth and tried to center her emotions. It was when she received a honk from a car passing by that she remembered the door was open and she was wearing only her t-shirt and underwear. Warm with embarrassment, she hastily closed the door.

She yawned, stretched, felt something in her back pop, and sighed. Standing for a moment beside the futon, she closed her eyes and tried to calm herself. She gave a groan when she realized her body wasn't going to let her go back to sleep and went into the kitchen. As per habit, she opened the cabinets, hoping to find food and, instead, found a bowl here, a plate there, a mixer over here. For some reason, she expected food elves to come in the middle of the night and mysteriously fill her refrigerator and cupboards with gourmet cuisine, steaming and waiting for her. For some reason, she thought they all must go to their version of High Tails before reaching her house and never complete the trip.

Closing the cabinets, Sylvie took the canister of dried oatmeal from the counter top and read the directions which, given her financial situation, she had memorized long ago. Setting the kettle on the stove to boil the water, she went to the bathroom to clean up. A shower would come after breakfast but the urge to brush her teeth was overpowering. After a brief stay on the toilet, she returned to the kitchen to find the water in its eternal pre-boiling state and grabbed the last of the brown sugar.

Eating the porridge, she reflected on the fact that, perhaps, she should have saved a bit of money from clothes shopping and bought some different food instead. Provided that High Tails_worked out, however, she would have funds to meet the necessities in the very near future. And, if for some reason the funds weren't forthcoming, there was the very possibility the things she'd bought would return to the stores from which they came in the form of donations while she tried to find some other place to live. _I could move in with Tiffany, she thought, though not really giving the idea credence. If she didn't work out at High Tails, she wasn't sure Tiffany would want to be friends afterward. That said, there were a number of preconceived notions she'd had to throw out in regards to the tiger and she could very easily be wrong.

She considered what to do with her last full day of unemployment and realized she was more excited to get to work than sitting around all day. In the few months she'd spent in the city she'd never become close with anyone for any length of time. There was always the one or two people she'd temped with who were friendly enough but they'd never offered to associate outside of work and Sylvie had promptly lost contact with them after leaving the job. She sourly reflected that she didn't offer to hangout, though, so they weren't completely to blame. The only person to have given her their number was Tiffany and Firgil. She suspected the latter was more for questions about the job than socializing and she didn't want to wear out the welcome Tiffany had extended.

Bowl empty, she quickly washed the couple dishes in the sink before hopping in the shower. She took her usual amount of care to ensure everything was completely washed, especially her tail. She was consciously aware how others viewed her and, especially, that area of her, even if they didn't understand the mechanisms involved. Not for the first time did she wonder how her life might have been different had she been born a raccoon or even a groundhog. Those species she might be able to identify with a bit more, which made the wonderings of what it would be like to be a beautiful lioness or vixen that much more remote and fantastic.

Wrapped in a towel, she teased her hair in a variety of styles before finally settling on her usual brushed down look, albeit with a pony tail. It may not be the most impressive look but it was functional and she suspected functionality would be foremost in the coming week and, hopefully, beyond. Brushing her tail took the most time and, like her hair, she experimented with various styles. Besides her curves, her tail was the other aspect she truly liked about her body and she took care to keep it free of tangles. For today's pattern, she brushed the two white lines towards each other every few inches, giving her tail a vaguely braided appearance. Unlike her shuffling through hairstyles, she left this intact and went to get dressed.

Standing in the living room she realized she still didn't have a clue as to what she was going to do. The past few months had involved in getting up early enough to hop on the bus to get to work or filling out applications and hand-delivering them. Though she _knew_she had a job which didn't start until the evening her body had gone through the usual routine without her supervision. Now she had a few minutes - or more - to do what she wanted and she didn't know what that want was.

Turning on her laptop, she checked the news and was shocked to see not only the figure who had been stumbling towards the bus last night was a victim of murder but also Emily's house in the background of the photo. She felt cold when as she realized she'd been there whenever he'd been shot - had likely heard the gunshot which killed him - and shivered. She quickly moved on to a different site which was much more lighthearted and stayed there for a while until she could forget about how short life could be.

Pulling up a local events page, she saw a professor was giving an open lecture at the college about anthros and ferals which was due to start in about an hour. Switching over to the bus schedule, she chose a route which would get her there with a few minutes to spare. She wouldn't have time to find a good seat but people like her didn't get good seats anyway and she would have chosen to sit in the back even if not relegated there. She put the computer to sleep and grabbed her jacket before considering and taking part of the money she had remaining for dinner. She was banking on the job at High Tails working out and hoped her meager funds didn't run out before she got paid.

Just when I finally get a job and get the apartment in order, she thought to herself and walked out the door.

/ / /

"--which is why feral species aren't so different as anthros when it comes to mating and reproducing," the otter walking across the stage addressed the assembly. "Mammals may mate with mammals, marsupials with marsupials, and so on. Ferals tend to stay within their respective classes and sub-classes when searching for potential mates. This is a biologically determined survival mechanism which has been serving them well for millions of years.

"Anthros, on the other hand, have been making a go of anything morphologically similar, never mind the consequences of offspring. Very often, if one stays within one's major class, viable offspring are an outcome, though the chance of reproduction is greatly reduced. When one wanders into a different sub class or another major class, all together, the chances of reproduction are slim and any subsequent offspring are likely nonviable.

"Ferals know this instinctively, anthros...not so much." This received a round of polite laughter. "Why reproduction between species of the same class can happen in anthros, however, it is due to a common genetic ancestor who appeared on the scene approximately...."

Sylvie tried to hide a yawn and stretched within the confines of her seat. The speaker was good and gave a lively presentation but his use of some words and terms left her grasping for their definitions and piecing together what he was trying to say. Doing this caused her to miss some of the next things he said and she felt she was only receiving about eighty percent of the presentation. Nevertheless, she had learned a few things and didn't feel her time had been wasted. She didn't know what she was going to do with her new found knowledge but it hadn't stopped her from thinking about the few hybrids she'd known. Like her, they'd been considered outcasts but, unlike her, not considered a liability unless they were part skunk.

The lecture lasted until a little before noon, when the speaker closed with images comparing hybrid anthros to the hybrid feral counterparts. She clapped along with the rest of the audience and waited until most of them left before exiting herself. The sun was high overhead and groups were moving to wherever they were going, likely for lunch, but she walked alone across the campus.

"Miss? Excuse me."

She turned to see a rather handsome, and young, cougar jogging towards her. If he was twenty she'd be surprised. "Are you talking to me?"

"Um, yes," he said nervously. "Um, would do-- Do you think--" He was unquestionably uncomfortable and glanced behind him. Sylvie followed that glance and saw a group of males all dressed similarly, laughing and smiling. Sylvie frowned and bit back the rising anger.

"Are they wanting me to spray you or fuck you?" she said directly. The cougar's eyes flew open and his mouthed moved, no words coming out. "Look, I can't help what I am and I can't help you. Sorry. Go find some other way to humiliate yourself." She turned and left, not expecting him to follow and wasn't disappointed.

"They'll only want you for one thing," her mother said when she was younger. "One thing" then become "sex" when Sylvie had her first period and mother felt it was time for the talk. On her more ambitious nights, usually after she had experienced Jack, or Johnny, or even a bit of the Captain, "sex" turned into "fuck friend" or "cheap lay". One night, after telling Sylvie she needed to go on a diet, she had poignantly said Sylvie would only be a "cushion for pushin'". It hadn't been the worst thing her mother had ever said about her but had made the top five and Sylvie couldn't bring herself to forgive her, even after a decade.

Now, dwelling on the memories and the offer by the cougar, Sylvie found her good humour had dried up and the day starting to turn south. This was her last day off - she didn't want it to be a waste. She paused at a posted transit schedule and made her way to the queue for the trolley. Its route was nearly circular and, though it wouldn't take her home, it would take her some place more agreeable and leaving her less likely to be used in a frat house hazing.

She had a few minutes to stew, then calm herself, before the street car arrived. She climbed on and sat in the back on the outside out of habit. As usual, the bench next to her was almost the last to be filled. A family of minks took up the remaining area, their mother giving Sylvie an apologetic smile as the baby began wailing. Likely it needed changed or fed or both but Sylvie couldn't help but feel it was because the infant knew her species.

What are you doing? This is your last day before work. Stay positive! Internal pep talks didn't usually work but this time was an exception. She _did_have some place to be tomorrow, some place where she could earn a paycheck and pay rent and not have to worry about her next meal. _As long as you don't--_She shoved the thought out of her head and smiled at the baby as they trundled down the road. Waggling her fingers, the child stopped crying at stared in fascination.

"That's the first time she's been quiet all day," the mother said.

"I'm good with kids," Sylvie replied, not completely knowing if that was true outside of Emily and this one.

"She likes you." The mink made to say more but had to stop two of her other children who'd just started fighting with each other. Threats were made, promises of grounding and abandonment finally getting them to stop. Regardless, the mother made sure her children remained inline for the rest of the trip, which was fine with Sylvie as she should concentrate on the littlest one.

They rolled up to a busy intersection and the mother gathered her stuff, including her children, and mouthed _thank you_to Sylvie as they abandoned the car. Pulling away, Sylvie could just make out the infant starting to cry again and she gave a small smile.

Two stops later, Sylvie got off the trolley in front of the library. Without being actively wanted at most other locales, her species and other "less desirables" had become used to finding sanctuary at "less cool" places to be. The irony was skunks, opossums, moles, warthogs, and other assorted less popular species tended to be the best educated. When something strange was happening or the "others" couldn't find an explanation, members of Sylvie's clique would usually step in to provide a succinct, and often correct, answer the first time. After that, they were forced again in obscurity until such a time as needed, being replaced by handsome tigers and photogenic antelopes.

Opening the massive door to the neo-Gothic building, she was greeted with the mixed smells of air conditioning and old paper. She quickly found her way to the fiction section where the latest book by Carolyn Berry was on display. Sylvie had read the other nineteen books in the series and hadn't been aware this one was available yet. Looking around at the other patrons, she took the book and stole off to a corner where she knew a particularly poofy, and usually unoccupied, beanbag chair waited.

The clock rang six and she shuffled out into the light again with the other patrons as the library shut its doors for the night. She'd almost made it through the whole book but still had a handful of chapters to go. She felt bad for checking it out only to likely return it the next day but the story had been getting good and she couldn't wait to find out what the mis-matched couple were going to do, either with the aliens or each other.

Her stomach growled and she remembered she'd missed lunch. Removing the cash she'd pocketed earlier, she unfolded and counted. She swore at herself when she realized what she'd thought the five she'd grabbed was instead was a one. "That's gonna limit your options," she said to herself, wondering what she'd get for six dollars and looked around for street vendors. The idea of sitting down in a restaurant, even Steak 'n Shake had been a possibility, but after a tip she'd be short and she didn't want to shaft the server. She laughed - she would be the server soon enough.

Eventually, she ended up at a Dairy Queen which was having a sale on chili dogs. Between those and the shake, she knew she wasn't eating the healthiest but eating healthy cost money. This was something her mother reminded her of at any given point while she was growing up. Even at that young age she knew she should be eating more fruits and vegetables but nearly everything brought into the house was processed and cheap. Any money saved disappeared somewhere and it was only a number of years later Sylvie had even began to think about that.

Watching the couples come and go, she wondered if she might one day join their ranks. Girls and guys looking at each other over their shared shakes. A younger boy and girl sharing a banana split. Even the two guys of different species sharing an ice cream cone inspired envy in her. Was she always to be alone? If two men - which discounted half the population - could find someone, then why couldn't she with, theoretically, the whole population find just one person? Then the thought of the playful offer from Tiffany entered her mind and she blushed furiously.

The ride home was met with much less excitement than the previous night. Couples were taking up their seats, making small cooing noises and laughing, but these drew her attention much less than the old women sitting alone waiting for the ride to take them to wherever. She attempted to read her book but the image of one particularly lonely-looking badger wouldn't leave her mind and she had to stop. Looking up, she saw the woman had left and hoped she was going to home to meet someone who hadn't been able to travel with her. I hope that isn't me in fifty years, she thought and sufficed to looking out the window for the rest of the trip home.

With how the morning began, Sylvie's biggest worry was that, for some reason, Ms. Xi would be waiting for her when she returned. Her concern was needless, however, and she entered to find, on first glance, a stranger's apartment. When she remembered she'd cleaned and organized it only a few nights ago she frowned and realized how much she'd been having to remember lately. Is the job drawing away my attention or is it _my impending spinsterhood?_She hoped it was neither because then she could explain it away. She'd known enough people, like her mother, who'd look up symptoms like this on WedMD and in fifteen minutes convince themselves they'd contracted some form of cancerous meningitis with a bad case of foot fungus. This was neither of those things, obviously, but her mind was too active subconsciously for her liking.

She stepped into the bathroom long enough to stop the drain and start the water running in the bathtub before shedding her clothes in the bedroom. She walked out to the living room to get the small radio and set it on the toilet. Pulling one of the Beethoven symphonies from its CD sleeve, she put it in the radio and pressed play. She dropped a few of the aromatic bath beads in and allowed them to fizz before climbing in the tub. The warm water was heaven and, though she didn't need to take a bath, she knew the soaking would help to soothe and calm her mind. Adjusting herself so her head lay back against the angled wall, she reached up with a foot and turned off the faucet. The fizzing provided a pleasant backdrop to the music and she closed her eyes, trusting her body to know how to relax itself.