FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Blue stretched across the vast expanse of the sky above, and blue stretched over the ocean water, dipping past the horizon where it met the sky. Blue also covered the nigh-infinite shark that approached. I saw him long, long before he saw me…. Though suggesting he saw 'me' is probably flattering myself. We saw him long, long before he saw us. Hundreds of thousands of us. Or even millions, if you count the whole larger metropolitan area, and I do, but I don't think it was a meaningful difference to him. He, after all, hadn't seen us yet. His eyes were up, looking a little more off to the ocean's edge, an eye to the shore and to the waters way beyond. Normally I would have pondered on mundane things, like wondering how much further out to sea he can see from his vantage point than from mine, or maybe how long it took him to get here from where he'd started. People like him, macros I guess, are so large, that even a single step might cover ground that would take me a few minutes to run, so where was he from? How far away was it? Had I ever traveled even throughout my entire life the distance he'd walked on a sunny afternoon?

As I'd said, though, I didn't have the room to wonder about that. The only thing I could wonder is whether he'd see us before it was too late.

Macros (I guess, I've never actually asked one, it seems a little… rude to just refer to them all that way… I wonder if they even care what we call them?) are pretty rare, out here, way past the red zone. They're all over otherwise, of course; we learn in schools and see on TV that they're everywhere. Numerous as we are, even, or so I've heard, even though that seems impossible. He could've jumped over my whole hometown, or enough of it, in a single bound; how the hell could there be hundreds of millions of people, his size? But, I'd never seen one this close in my life. At least, never unprepared. We communicate with macros, of course. I've played online games with a few. The vast majority of the time, you wouldn't even know someone was a macro, online, unless it came up. 'Hey, you're really cool, do you want to try to meet up? Where do you live?' And then they say they live in a city you've never heard of, so you look it up, and it's past the red zone, and you realize…… Wow. He's one of them. So usually, if a macro's going to come around, it's for a reason, and it's one we're given plentiful time to prepare for. I've seen a macro work way out at the beaches, a hundred miles from here, constructing levies and other things. There was a mandatory no-cross perimeter, giving plentiful leeway, a safe buffer to ensure there wouldn't be any chance of an accident whatsoever, and yet we could still see them on the horizon.

But this boy came without any warning at all. I think I saw him before most people did, though. I wasn't in the city itself. I'm a photographer, and I'd taken advantage of the weather to drive up into the hills outside of town. On our side of the valley, it's a pretty gentle slope all the way up, but on the other side of it, overlooking the desert to the shore, it's a cliff. I can see for miles and miles, overlooking the city. Sometimes I'd flatter myself by walking so close to the edge that I couldn't see the ground at all, and wonder if this is a macro's perspective, looking out over the valley….. But it wasn't, of course.

In fact, at my elevation, where I could look down in the valley and see my home city, I almost certainly didn't even come up to the shark's knee.

Anyway. He hadn't had a warning. I checked my phone, unconcerned at first, opening up a local news app. I expected a little yellow exclamation with the paw warning symbol. Macro in the area, watch their step, the usual thing. Maybe I just hadn't seen it that morning, but there was nothing. Now it's starting to worry me a little.

I looked back up at him again. My camera was in my hands, but I'd forgotten it existed. I couldn't think of anything else but him. He was blue, I'd said. A marvelous, royal blue, more like the ocean blue than the sky blue, but richer, almost darker. Stripes and circles ran up the sides of his body in an alternating pattern; circles, stripe, circles, stripe. A whaleshark, basically, rude as it is to just call a person by the feral creature they most closely resemble, but just run with it for now, okay? He had long, red hair, largely tied up in a loose ponytail behind him, and he rocked his head this way and that. I couldn't see anything on or in those long, back-pointed ears of his, but he must have been listening to music, or maybe just had a tune in his head.

He filled my view as much as he filled the horizon, but what I really couldn't tear my eyes away from were his paws. No, not like that, don't be fucking weird! Those feet of his were leaving craters that could've covered several city blocks. Probably more. He was still miles and miles away, and when something — some one — is that big, it's really difficult to gauge scales. When his foot lifted, it kicked up a wall of sand that I was sure would have reached me, even high up on the cliffs overlooking the city. When his foot landed again, it gouged so deeply into the earth I was SURE he was going to fall straight through. He was leaving footprints that would've killed me if I fell in from the rim of it.

It was only about then that I remembered I had the camera. Two, actually. One was on a tripod, ready to record a timelapse of the sun setting over the city, while the other was on a strap around my neck. I turned the tripod camera rapidly away from the city and towards him, hitting the record button, and then lifted the other to my eye, and held the shutter button down. The camera clicked merrily as I slowly ran the lens up the shark's body.

I stared again, as my view climbed his body. From his paw, up his ankle, his knee, to those… thick thighs, there isn't another way to describe it… He had probably the fattest ass I'd ever seen on a guy. … And then I saw his groin. And yeah, I'd noticed he was naked before, but I'd already mentioned I was kind of preoccupied with whether or not we knew he was coming, whether or not he knew he was coming. So it wasn't really until he was kinda…. Filling my view as it were that I took notice of it.

He was hung.

like, really fucking hung. Macros are more-or-less exactly the same as us, build-wise. I'd mentioned that you could be talking to a macro online without even realizing, and that even goes for sharing selfies or whatever. They're wearing clothes that must be made of miles of material, sitting in rooms that seem like they could be mine, and you would never know he was a million times your size or whatever, and usually, it's just as weird for them to be publicly nude as it is for us. But I guess this one was a bit of an exhibitionist, maybe. Or maybe he really is a long way from wherever he came from, and he was expecting privacy. Maybe another hundred miles up the beach was some fucking massive pile of clothes, a beach towel, a bag, a cooler of drinks maybe.

Whatever the reason, his dick was all the way out for every one of several million people in my home town to observe and admire, and there was a lot to admire. It was dark blue as well, but wasn't intersected by the stripes and circles like the rest of his body. That color went from the root, down a forearm-thick (and near enough as long) shaft to the tip. The tip peeking out a little bit was that lighter grey, though, as were the inside of his thighs, his abdomen and his chest, up his throat and over his muzzle. So were his balls. Wish I could say my camera had stopped clicking as I panned over his privates, but those nuts were worth drooling over. They were fat enough to get jostled obscenely against one another, sloshing ponderously over one thigh, then the other, as he walked. The tip of his cock was hanging quite a bit lower than his sack, and that was saying a lot. They were huge.

Okay yeah, smartass, but I don't mean huge 'cause he's a fucking macro, I mean relatively, if he were a normal size, he'd probably make an equine pornstar blanch.

I got knocked out of that…. That hypnosis by the thump. His foot had fallen a few seconds before, but it was only then that the earth seemed to complain about it. Or at least, that I finally heard it. And that was fucking bizarre to see. That whenever he took a step, it blasted a mile-wide crater into the ground (or so it felt), but it took whole seconds before I could actually hear or feel it…. But that really didn't take that long. A few more steps, and he was almost literally right on top of us. I had to crane my fucking neck back. I didn't know what my timelapse camera was capturing anymore, but I was staring real high up to see his expression, hoping he looked down. Begging. Pleading. The sound of his footfalls filled my ears and made my head throb. I think I'd started screaming, but I could barely hear it past his fucking existence. I don't know how much time passed. It felt like it was an hour ago that I first saw him, but it couldn't have been more than a dozen footsteps. That couldn't be more than thirty seconds or so, he wasn't walking very fast. Not relatively, anyway. For us, at his feet, I could see the fucking devastation underneath. The way those heavy toes of his moved over the ground, the whirlwinds they kicked up in sand, the way debris seemed to get sucked up into the air beneath his paw and chased it, carried by the wall of force he created with a fucking step.

I realized, then, that I was pointing my camera straight up, and I only noticed it because I lost my balance, and fell back. Thankfully, I'd planned to spend the night up here, under the stars, so when I did, I landed on my bag and the tent pack. Didn't feel good, but better than hitting the rock or something. But that also meant his paw was right above us. Above me. If he'd lowered his paw, it would have been fucking apocalyptic. The kinda shit we read about, that used to happen more frequently. When some fucking sick freak just came across us, in villages or tribes, and just smeared the fucking earth with us. That didn't happen these days, though. It hadn't happened for a very, very long time.

…. But accidents happen, don't they. We didn't know he was coming, it's not like they wear fucking transponders, and I could tell through my viewfinder that he wasn't looking down at us. He didn't know we were here, either. Like if he used the same info app we did, and I thought macros did, he would have known we were there on the map…. But he's naked. Where's his phone? Fuck, that explains why he didn't know we were there, that must be it. I had my phone, though, and it buzzed in my pocket, and made a little alert sound, like a severe weather warning alert. It wasn't the weather alarm, though. It was the macro one. It had come too late. I almost laughed. I'm staring up underneath a foot that seemed a mile fucking wide, and just now, the city's like “oh, by the way, macro in the area." Yeah thanks for the heads up.

I could hear it. The wind screaming overhead as his foot was coming down, or maybe that was just the sound of blood pumping in my ears, paralyzed by the shadow made by the bottom of someone's fucking foot. I noticed something I hadn't before until it was literally overshadowing me. There was a ring on of his four toes, a silver one. It sparkled just a little bit in the sunlight, but so did a relief. An inscription, carved into the bottom side of the ring, perfectly, obscenely, horrifyingly legible.

It said WATCH OUT.

How the hell did we last for so long, I thought. Macros are so fucking big that he's about to put his foot down into the middle of a god damn city and he's not even going to notice. Not until it's too late. He's not even gonna know. Me, my family, my friends, everyone I've ever fucking known and loved.

Then he stopped moving.

For everyone else underneath him, like DIRECTLY in the path of destruction, they couldn't see him, but I was on the outside of town. My camera was filled with the view of the underside of his paw, but I could still see his face. And I could see him looking down. I could see him…. is he smirking? He's fucking smirking. He hovered there, for just a second. One foot was outside of town, beyond the outskirts, but way, way too close for comfort, with the other right over hundreds of homes, thousands of cars, tens of thousands of people, and he had that fucking smile on his face.

He shifted his weight. His paw drifted away, slowly at first, and then casually. It landed in the desert sands what felt like miles away, and then resumed his walking speed, carrying on along his merry way across those sandy dunes. I hadn't had the thought at the time, but looking back at my photos, he looked just as good walking away as he had on approach. His ass was as big as promised. The back of his nuts were visible between his thighs, and the tip of his dick beneath that. I swear to god I saw the thing fucking throb; he'd gotten turned on a little, I'm sure of it. That tail of his seemed impossibly long, and it slowly carved a path in the air behind him as he walked. The bottom of that tailfin seemed to have been deliberately dragged as low over the city as he thought he could get away with; I felt the air get sucked past me and over my head in its wake.

I can't remember when I started breathing again, but it all kind of came back at once. I was still alive. The sound of my camera's shutter rapidly clicking away finally hit my ears, and I let it go, dropping the camera back to my chest. Normally I bitch about how heavy it is around my neck, but I didn't feel it at all, that time. I couldn't even get back to my feet; I crawled forwards to the edge of that cliff, looking out over the valley to my hometown, my city, where hundreds of thousands of people, or millions of people, it really didn't matter anymore, were still… Just fine. It seemed like nobody had noticed but me. I mean that was obviously not true, but I didn't see, or hear, anything amiss. I was up on the cliff to get away from those sounds. I imagined that there were probably thousands of horns honking, and that there probably had been some traffic accidents where someone driving had stared up at him passing by….. And probably hundreds of thousands of people who hadn't realized anything had even happened at all.

When I turned back around, I couldn't see him anymore. He was so big, so fucking fast, that he'd rounded the shoreline back behind the terrain. I looked back down at the camera, and snatched it up again, waking the dimmed screen. I hadn't stopped taking pictures, the camera had dutifully carried right on with its literally only job to keep on clicking so long as I held the shutter button down. I zoomed in on the last photo it had taken. Up his lower body, over that (fat) ass, his back, to his shoulder…. And then his face. I just stared in disbelief for a while longer. He was looking down at us, over his shoulder. He had an almost apologetic little expression on his face, but it was teasing; his tongue was out, he was winking a little bit. But his other eye was staring straight at…. Well, maybe I'm flattering myself again to think I was the only one he had seen… But it felt like he was staring straight at me.

---

I didn't spend the night on the cliffs afterall. Hopefully it's pretty understandable that I kinda wanted to be back in my nice warm bed after something like that, but when night came, I was really struggling to sleep. I couldn't get my mind off of that shark, and that's probably why the idea came to my mind at all. I opened up a popular social app, the one everybody uses. I scrolled down through about thirty 'new message' indicators, from all my friends. I didn't read any of them, but the little preview snippets were all the same, with some variation on 'did you see what happened today'. Yeah I fucking saw it. But I wasn't looking for my friends.

It took me a little while. I'm not even sure why I bothered. A shitload of people use the app, but not everybody. And even if they did, not everybody had their profile public, or not everybody let their geolocation be public, or their profile image, or their bio, or…. It just seemed like a real stretch.

I searched by a lot of things. By location (stupid, I didn't know where he was from), I searched by proximity (stupid, if he was actually near my city I wouldn't have needed the app to see). So I just scrolled the map by, towards the direction he'd come from. Hundreds and hundreds of miles. The big red line was impossible to miss, the “red zone", where you're perfectly allowed to go, but the demarcation indicated where you were not advised to walk off of the designated paths and roads. Free country, sure, walk where you want… But macros aren't watching their step, past the red zone.

You are.

Let's try here. I try proximity search again, and watched as another hundred thousand bubbles popped up over the map of a city that looked exactly like mine, but this one was on the other side of the red zone, and according to the little mile scale on the app, my entire city would have fit within one of these roads with room to spare. Useless, of course… But one more try. I add another search term, on the bio, this time.

Shark.

The list whittled way down. Who knows? Maybe some nudist, exhibitionist macro shark, that happens to live in the first city beyond the red zone, and happens to use the WeFur app, and also happens to have his profile, location, and bio public, ALSO happens to describe himself as a 'shark'.

Actually it seems like a few people did. There was more than one bubble. But there were few enough that the avatar on one stood out. Blue face, lighter-colored muzzle and throat. Red hair tied back in a loose ponytail, and a sweet little smile. I tapped on the face and looked at the first image in the gallery. Royal blue, slate gray. He was wearing a curious backless hoodie and a skirt. His dick wasn't really the size that could meaningfully be hidden by clothing, I'd have thought, but he managed to pull it off. The photo had been taken in a park, and he looked like anybody else I might have seen on the street. Early twenty-something, college student maybe. Playful. I skipped over the bio itself, for now, and just hit 'DM User'. If this much shit about him is public, then he's open to public DMs too, right?

Up it came, the little window. His bubble was gray, offline. But I wrote a message anyway.

“hey, were u past the red zone today?" I asked. Then bit my lip. I realized I had stopped breathing, and took a breath.

“on the beach?" I added. I called it a desert, not a beach. But maybe he didn't think of it that way.

I was about to turn my phone off when the gray bubble suddenly turned blue. I held my breath again, on purpose, this time. Then the little “…" chat bubble appeared. He was replying.

“oh sorry, were you there? Thought I was alone lmao" the reply said. My cursor just blinked at me as I stared, as paralyzed then as I had been underneath his paw. I remembered to breathe again. I wrote something out, then erased it; wrote something out, then erased it. Again and again, three more times, feeling stupider each time, knowing he was seeing it with that little “…" bubble that appears and disappears when someone is clearly waffling on what they want to say.

So in the end, I didn't say anything. I hit the little image button, and then I picked the very last photo in the library; it was the last one I took that day. It was him, from behind, from an extremely low point of view, staring up at his bare ass, his back, and his shoulder, where he had looked down and shown that silly, apologetic blep at us. At me.

I hit send and stared again for a few seconds, but he didn't have the same hesitation I did. His response was really fast. It was a sticker. Stylized little cartoon of his own face, making that exact same little wink-blep. Then, a few seconds later, that little bubble again, “…". It didn't go away, like mine did. He was typing something out, he was gonna say a little bit more. Maybe we were gonna have a conversation. I didn't really know what I wanted to say, but there sure is a shitload of things I'd never thought to ask a macro about until today. Maybe I'll ask him if they call themselves 'macros' or if I should use another term. Or maybe I'll ask him how far out he can see over the ocean from his much, much higher point of view.