FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

-= Complete and Total Disclaimer of all Responsibility for what YOU do =-

If you aren't mentally mature enough to read about various forms of sex, then go away. I don't care what your physical age is, if you're too repressed/undeveloped to be reading about sex, why are you here? This story not intended for use during operation of nuclear facilities, aircraft navigation/communication systems, submarine vessels, nuclear weapons, sharp pointed objects, or any other hazardous activity in which failure could lead to death, injury, property damage, environmental damage or lawsuit. All natural; No preservatives; 98% Fatuity-free. Close cover when striking. Practice safe sex ... practice, practice, practice - until you get it right.

¤º°'°º¤Ø,¸,ؤº°'°º¤

Final Edit - Deepest gratitude, thanks and hugs to those faithful readers who spotted typos/errors and emailed me.

¤º°'°º¤Ø,¸,ؤº°'°º¤

Chapter Five

¤º°'°º¤Ø,¸,ؤº°'°º¤

Warrior, Sailor, Scholar, Thief

¤º°'°º¤Ø,¸,ؤº°'°º¤

Second Week, Summer 2, Year 1580

It was a lovely High Plains Summer day. The greying badger yawned widely and stretched as the late-morning sun streamed in through his bedroom window. He glanced at his clock and winced as he realized he'd slept almost until Noon ... again. [Oh well, it just does not matter,] he thought. [Like I have any urgent appointments.]

David Strianach snorted in self-deprecating humor - he had been forcibly retired for ten years now and still hadn't adjusted to being "redundant to the needs of the industry" - any industry. It had really ruffled his fur to repeatedly see the reaction of the Furr Resources people each time he applied for a job. They always looked like the very thought of signing him on would dirty their claws. [You turn fifty and you are too old to work,] he thought bitterly. [Thank the All I made it all the way through a Naval career! I would really be shaved starving and homeless now if I had not.] There were times he enjoyed fantasizing ripping the throats out of personnel managers.

As always, he carefully checked to see if his wee feline mistress was curled up asleep on his feet, before tossing back the blankets and sliding his legs out of bed. Nothing started a day out badly like aggravating one's pet cat.

He grabbed his cane and used it as a brace whilst he slowly stood up. [Hrm. Good. No dizziness and no more than the usual aches.]

Slowly, he stretched to his full height of five feet and scratched hard at his fur, starting with his long, thick, white headfur, down his shoulders, down his chest to his balls. "Ahhh ..." He scratched on around to the pit of his back, then arched until he felt his spine crackle as it loosened.

Using his stick to maintain balance, he walked to his kitchen. After preparing a small steak and coffee for breakfast, he looked down to see a pair of expectant yellow eyes. "Hmph. Bastet, why could you not be a lovely felinoid fem instead of 'only' a cat?"

Of course, all he got for reply was a slightly-indignant chirrup, informing him that she hadn't eaten ALL night and was going to STARVE to death unless he IMMEDIATELY fed her.

"Yes, dear mistress Bastet - your slavefurr will serve your breakfast promptly - may he have his coffee first, so he can see what he is doing?" responded Strianach to the demanding little cat. She just glared at him. He snickered and quickly cut up some fish for her and warmed it for her. As she ate, he sipped his coffee and smiled at her.

~=~

An hour later, having completed the daily feeding and ablutions, dressed in his customary bright-blue woolen jacket and kilt in a tartan of blue, white and green, he slowly walked from his front door down the short hill to his mailbox.

Along the way, he spotted his neighbor, Isaac Tufts, departing home. David solemnly greeted Ser Tufts, who had come home for lunch. "And how is yer lynxship this fine day? Eartufts properly wavin' in the breeze?"

The lynx responded with equal mock-gravity. "Oh, just perfectly fine, old fish-chaser. Rest easy - the safety of the Council is in good, flying paws." He offered a sweeping bow.

Both grinned - the lynx knew the rotund badger had put in a long hard career, had served with distinction in more than one battle, and had been thoroughly worn-out physically by the needs of the Navy. The badger knew the lynx was a good pilot and a brave furr - indeed, Tufts had earned awards for his courage under fire. Neither furr felt any need to question the other; each knew his friend was not just anyfurr off the street.

Glancing toward Tufts's apartment building, David grew serious. "And young Samuel?"

Tufts knew Strianach was honestly concerned - the old badger had known Samuel's parents long before they died. "He's already left for school. Sam's happy now, David, I promise you that. I will allow nothing and no-one to hurt him again."

"Ah lad, make not rash promises. You know it might happen that the All will hold you to them."

"Not a promise, David - a vow."

Strianach huffed through his white mustache. "Well ... true it is that I know you will do all in your strength to care for him. I have known you for what? Five years now or is it seven? I knew Isaac when he was a babe. I have never seen either of you so happy." He gave an evil grin. "Ahem ... or so contented and satisfied of a morning ..."

Isaac Tufts blushed.

"Oh my, young zoomie - could it be that you got a wee bit of sunburn on your last flight? Your face seems to be all red under those cheekwhiskers."

"Erm, never you mind, you dirty-minded old hedgegrubber," sputtered the embarrassed lynx. "But here now, if we're going to talk personal lives ... have you yet found a mate?"

"Ahhh ..." sighed Strianach. "No, no more a fem who wants to share a home with me than I have found an employer who wants to share his money with me."

Tufts said, "That's really ridiculous. With all your experience and knowledge, they should be coming around asking you to come work for them."

"Kind of you to say so, lynxy-me-lad, but that is not the way it is. It is fresh young minds they want. Now, this subject slightly saddens me, so let us change it ... that is, unless you want me to start speculating on certain other fresh young subjects?"

"Ah. Say, joking aside, I think I do know of a possibility. The senior Guard at the High Court of Herbivoria is retiring, so they're all moving up a notch. They want someone strong, someone with military experience, someone reliable and stable. Moving around quickly is not a factor. Shall I put your name in the pot?"

Brightening at the possibility, the badger told Tufts to go ahead. "And Isaac - would you be so kind as to have Samuel drop by my house for a wee bit in a day or three? There are some things I need to tell him that I should have passed on long ago."

"Of course, David. Will Sevdy be okay?"

"Fine, lad."

They parted then, the badger continuing down the hill to the mailbox, the lynx returning to his office in the town.

~=~

Samuel bounded up the steps into his school that Threedy, a relaxed happy grin on his face. The last three months of living in the care - and the arms - of Isaac had pretty well healed the emotional damage. He no longer blamed himself for Sandy's death; he'd come to understand that his father made his own decisions for his own reasons and paid the penalty. He'd also come to realize that his schoolmates weren't actually blaming him for his father's death - it just seemed that way when the shock was still fresh. Actually, none of them knew how to handle the situation, so they'd just avoided Samuel. They thought that would be "kinder," but it'd made him feel like he was being shunned. That was all past now, and his relationships with the other young furrs were back to normal.

Dressed in his usual bluejeans and long-sleeved shirt (yellow today), he was fussing a bit at himself for oversleeping. Isaac left for his office as usual, and Samuel gave in to the temptation to get "just five more minutes" of sleep. His backpack jounced as the fox raced along.

Not paying attention to where he was going in his rush to avoid being late to Algebra, his first class and the one he had the hardest time with, he rounded a corner and splatted flat against a tall furry stomach.

"Whoof!" The victim of the unexpected "attack" staggered back half a step.

Samuel's eyes were slightly crossed from the impact. He inhaled heavily - his nose filled with the familiar heady scent of cat. He immediately realized who he'd struck - there was only one cat that big in the school. The biggest and the strongest. Gordon MacIntyger! [Oh yiff! I'm done for now!]

Gathering his scattered wits, he backed off and stared at the flat white-and-bluish-gray-striped chest in front of his face. There was a lot to look at. The snowtiger he'd smashed into was wearing tan chinos that rode low on his hips. Above that, he had on only an open vest made of thin leather. Slowly, Samuel raised his eyes to meet the frowning face. He had to look up a long way - the snowtiger was about seven feet tall. And there was a lot of chest to look past - although he was only average for snowtigers, that still meant he weighed well over three hundred pounds.

Samuel winced and turned his head away. That brought the tiger's paws into clear view. The wee tod found it almost impossible to pull his eyes away from the sight of the tiger's huge claws slipping in and out of their sheaths - he shivered at the thought of what they could do to him in an instant. And he was sure he'd feel them soon. He looked up at the tiger's fierce visage as piteously as he could.

The snowtiger glared down into Samuel's green eyes. Samuel winced again and squinched them shut, ducking his chin. That might have been a mistake - it brought his nose more closely in line with the crotch of the tiger's trousers and made him feel dizzy from the scent of cat. He felt his cock twitch a bit.

Gordon MacIntyger growled and shook his head. He reached down and gripped the tod's shoulders, then easily lifted him to where the five-foot-tall tod had his eyes level with the three-hundred-fifty-pound snowtiger's eyes. The tiger's claws just barely pricked the tod's skin. Samuel didn't try to wriggle free - he knew it wouldn't work.

The fearful tod stifled a screech of alarm. He squinted one eye open, peering at the snowtiger's face. The snowtiger rolled his lips back, revealing a truly horrifying set of glistening wet white fangs. He drooled hungrily. This time, Samuel's strangled screech got out.

In a rumble, MacIntyger inquired, "Just what the yiff are you doing, Fielder?"

"Ummm ... being sorry I hit you?"

"Hrm. Not good enough, fox, not good enough to satisfy me." Gordon drew Samuel closer to him, to where Samuel could feel the gigantic cat's hot breath on his throat.

Suddenly, the snowtiger grinned and hugged the tod strongly.

[Argh! I knew it!] Samuel squeaked in desperation and whined, "Yiffit, Gordon, I told you not to do that! You make my ribs creak when you squish me!"

"Whine, whine, whine," Gordon said airily, "is that all you can do?"

"With you holding me up like this, my feet are in just the right position for kicking ..."

"If you do, what do you plan on using to replace all the hide on your skull after I chew it off?"

The six-foot-tall jet-black panther wearing knee-length tan shorts and a pale-blue long-sleeve shirt standing next to them interrupted. "Guys? Do you plan on yiffing right here in the hallway, or could we maybe get to class? Before we earn more demerits?"

Both the others glared at him indignantly. Then Gordon mused, "Well, I suppose we could go in the mels' restroom ..." He slurped his tongue across the top of Samuel's head, leaving it soggy from ear to ear.

Samuel sputtered in outrage. "Y-you know I never - I don't - I will NOT!" He struggled, even though he knew it was futile.

Gordon set him down onto his feet and, cocking his white-and-black head to one side, purred, "Never? Oh really? Then what's that bulge for in your pants?"

As the indignant tod fumed in frustration at once again being verbally bested by his friend, the two cats walked off laughing. "See you at lunch, Sammy."

Samuel realized his cock had started swelling up out of his sheath in response to the combined stimuli of cat-scent, being hugged to a furry chest, and the rough tongue stroking his headfur. He sighed, adjusted his pants, and hurried to class. Along the way, he scrubbed his paw through his wet headfur, trying to get it back in order. He muttered to himself all the way about cats and the way that they used their tongues on everyone. It was downright perverted.

~=~

At lunch, Gordon MacIntyger and Lightning Darke, the panther, sat at their usual table, their plates piled high with honey-roasted gerbils and crisp bread rolls.

"Ooh goody. Lookie, sweetiecheeks, Gordy brought us something to nibble on! On his tray, I mean."

Gordon groaned and curled a protective arm around his food as two squirrel mels, one red and one gray, wearing matching outfits of eye-searingly brightly-patterned green shorts and t-shirts in neon green, hopped onto the bench, one on each side of him, and slid as close to him as they could get. Since the squirrels were less than four feet tall, it was hard to block them when they maneuvered to get squeezed in somewhere.

"Hello, Flame. Hello, Cloud. Don't you have something you need to go do? Repair your makeup? Try on new hats? Something besides rob me, you rotten little treerats?"

The red squirrel ducked his head under the snowtiger's elbow, darting a paw in and grabbing a roll. "But superbod, whyever would we want to do that? You know snuggling up to you is our favorite thing. Er. Well, maybe our second favorite. Favorite would be -"

Gordon stopped that line of thought with a hiss.

Looking indignant, Flame continued, "I was only going to say would be doing something creative with tinting your fur to make those gorgeous blue stripes stand out." He sniffed haughtily, trying hard to radiate insulted innocence - and failing completely. He hadn't been innocent since he turned thirteen and discovered what a neat new plaything he had built-in.

His cousin, the gray squirrel, ran his paw up Gordon's thigh, saying, "Striped Legs, you know what we would really love to eat."

As Gordon's head snapped around to glare at Cloud, Flame's paw shot in, grabbed another pair of rolls and passed one to Cloud. "Here, snookums - mean ole Gordypoo just doesn't like to share, even though he easily has enough for both of us at once ..."

A low-volume snarl that sounded like ripping cloth came from the black panther across the table, and both squirrels froze, hardly breathing.

"You mangy treerats do know what I'll do to you if you ever try it, don't you?"

The two squirrels silently nodded.

"Good. Now, take your paws off him before I shave you."

Instantly, the two minuscule rapscallions were decorously sitting upright, silently eating their meals.

Lightning glared for a moment more, then decided they'd learned their lesson. For today. It seemed as though their memories faded faster than their lipstick wore off. He rather disliked the two, but (usually) tolerated them because his lover, Gordon, liked them.

He looked at Flame and shook his head. "Please tell me, why did you dye vertical yellow stripes from your ears to the tip of your tail?"

The red squirrel flushed and stammered, "Uh, b-because it's the latest -"

Cloud grinned and interrupted. "Because there's a new skunk on our gymnastics team and Flaming Queen here thinks stripes will help him get into Stripy's pants."

"So you two are still trying to seduce every available mel in the school before you graduate? No, never mind, don't answer that - I think I'll be happier not knowing."

Cloud shook his head and flirted his tail, making the innumerable tiny rings and chains and studs he had set into his ears and tail chime. "Oh, alright, grumpy. But if you ever see us on the roof yodeling, take it for granted that we feel really, really triumphant."

The four seventeen-year-old students all hushed for a while then, busy eating their lunches. Eventually, the bell rang, ordering the students back to class. As the squirrels flounced away through the cafeteria, they hugged everyfurr they could get their paws on. Most attempted to get out of reach before the notorious pair could get hold of them - not all, though.

As Gordon and Lightning left, they wondered why Samuel hadn't shown up.

~=~

Samuel had a meeting that was much more important to him than mere eating. He was in the Combat Coach's office, applying for the team.

Coach Howell, a bulky doberman built like a brick stood on end, looked at the tiny tod. "Do you think you can handle a sword against the others? Your size doesn't matter when using the bow or rifle, but to stand up against someone a lot bigger than you with just a blade ..."

Samuel swallowed nervously. He forced himself to keep his paws still and not wring them. "Yes ser. I've watched a lot of practices and matches. I think, no, I'm sure I can use my speed to win. Besides, ser, I make a smaller target."

Howell barked a laugh and spit the toothpick he'd been chewing on into the trashcan. "Well, yiffit, how can I refuse to let you try, when your confidence is at least ten feet tall. Just keep one thing in mind: Lightning Darke is lead-furr on the team. He lives up to his name, y'know - moves like greased lightning in a match. You sure you wouldn't rather go for gymnastics? I think you're doing well there."

The young tod drew himself up determinedly. "No ser - I like gymnastics and I'm going to keep on with it, but I need the Combat training. I want to apply to the Naval Academy when I graduate, ser."

"So, you want to follow in the pawprints of your guardian? There are lots worse examples for a kit. He's a fine furr."

"Yes ser."

"Hmph. Item One: the qualifying tests will be Onedy, Twody and Threedy next week immediately after regular classes dismiss: blades first, then bow, then rifle. Be on time. Be ready. Item Two: no matter how much I admire Ser Tufts, you'll be rated on what I see in the tests. Item Three: since I suspect you're going to make it, you will stop calling me 'Ser'. I'm 'Coach'."

The little fox almost wilted with relief. He broke out in a grin so big his tongue dangled from the side of his mouth. Coach Howell had to exert himself not to laugh at the youngster. Gruffly, the doberman waved the tod out of his office and buried himself in paperwork.

~=~

When they finished with classes in the early afternoon, Gordon and Lightning wandered out to their favorite private spot on the school grounds. It was a small grove of oaks, surrounded by a thickly-growing natural hedge. Unless you knew how to move certain branches of the hedge bushes, you'd think there was no way past them into the trees except flying.

They stripped so fast once they were into the grove that an observer would have thought their clothing turned into smoke.

The two cats stretched their full lengths out on the rough grass between the oaks and sighed. There was a flood of warm yellow sunlight pouring down on them. The breeze was just enough to keep insects away. Their stomachs were full of food. They had both done well in their classes that day. It was as though the world was providing the felinoids with a reward for being good.

Their tails looped together. Gordon reached an arm out; Lightning twisted to lay his head on his lover's arm. Lightning's black fur shone in the sunlight, but his snow-white chest- and belly-fur was almost too bright to look at. Gordon's faint blue stripes on his white fur practically disappeared in the glare, especially since his larger black stripes pulled the eye away.

Gordon admired the panther's round face. "Did you know that if you open your eyes real wide, you look like two green fried eggs on a black plate?"

Lightning snorted. "Gee, what a romantic thing to say."

In an injured tone, Gordon replied, "But I like fried eggs!" Then he snickered. They both just lay there in the warming sun for a while.

Finally, Lightning spoke. "We're going to make the most beautiful babies."

"Mumph? Good trick ..."

"No, no - I read all about this new technique where they use the seed from two mels and combine it to make a zygote."

"Oh really? What medical journal was this in?"

"Um, well ... not exactly in a 'medical journal' ..."

"Published where, then?"

"mumble ..."

"Where did you say?"

"I read it in the Weekly World, okay?"

"Right."

"But Gordon," the panther began. He was interrupted by a tongue pressing into his mouth as Gordon kissed his muzzle. Lightning rolled onto his side, his back to Gordon.

Gordon lifted Lightning's upper leg and scootched his belly up against Lightning's rump. Lightning sighed happily and rolled slightly onto his belly. His white bellyfur ran down over his sex, through his crotch and up his rump in a tapering arrowhead with the point right at his tailhole.

Gordon's cock was already extended fully, glistening precum wetting the tip. He spit on his paw and rubbed it into the anticipating tailhole. Then he hugged both arms around the panther and pushed his hips toward the shorter cat. He moaned softly as his shaft sank into Lightning's tailhole.

Lightning groaned - Gordon was big enough that he strained Lightning's tailhole every time he entered the panther, but Lightning knew it would rapidly change from pain to delight.

Gordon closed his eyes tightly in pleasure as he thrust slowly into the panther. Lightning purred loudly, feeling the snowtiger's precum lubricating him.

Gordon's barbed cock massaged the entire inside of Lightning's tailhole, caressing his prostate with each stroke. The snowtiger rowred as his balls throbbed with need - his hips bucked hard, driving his shaft as deep as he could into the smaller cat.

Lightning stroked his cock in synchronization with the slow steady stroking of Gordon's cock in his rump. He didn't want to cum, but couldn't stand not feeling something on his cock. His back arched against Gordon's chest. His tail, caught up between them, flicked back and forth on Gordon's neck.

Gordon didn't stop his yiffing or even alter the steady rhythm, but he grabbed Lightning's tail and took its tip into his mouth. He rolled his tongue around and around it, soaking the fur with his saliva.

Lightning cocked his ears back, then turned his head to look at Gordon's face. "Just what is it that you think you're doing," he demanded.

"Want something to suck."

"Well, I have -"

"Can't reach that. Yet. Wanna suck." Gordon smiled and started pushing Lightning's tailtip into his clenched lips, then pulling it out. He worked it in and out.

Lightning growled - he hated getting his tail wet and Gordon knew it. Then he growled harder, as his rump felt Gordon's cock start to spasm. His tailhole clamped down as hard as he could and he yowled loudly - he felt hot cum gushing into his belly.

The two cats gasped simultaneously as Gordon's seed flooded Lightning's belly, making him feel so warm deep inside. Gordon came again even harder. He dropped Lightning's leg and lay limply on the grass.

When Lightning's leg came down, it squeezed his tailhole tightly onto his lover's cock. Neither of them moved for several minutes. They just lay there, Gordon's arms wrapped around the panther.

Eventually, the snowtiger roused and peered over the panther's shoulder. He smiled. Yes, Lightning's shaft was still fully extended. He pulled his softening cock out of the panther's cum-slicked tailhole.

Lightning rolled over and raised his body over Gordon. Gordon started to say something, but Lightning shushed him, saying, "No, just lie there and let me yiff your face."

Lightning slowly lowered his cockhead to Gordon's lips. Gordon couldn't resist - he reached up and wrapped a big smooth paw around the shaft, holding it as the panther pushed his long pink cock into the wet, hot, waiting mouth.

Gordon gently fondled Lightning's balls, which had pulled up tight to Lightning's body. He thought how odd it was that Lightning's shaft always seemed bigger when it was in his mouth than when it was in his tailhole. Gordon rolled his rough tongue all around Lightning's cockhead, just as he had Lightning's tailtip. He opened his muzzle wider, wanting to take it all in.

Darke moaned with pleasure as he slowly sank his entire member into MacIntyger's mouth. They had done this many times before, so he knew that he could put all of it in, scraping the back of Gordon's throat.

Stimulated beyond his self-control, he commenced quickly bucking his hips up and down, pulling almost out of Gordon's lips with each stroke, then back in deeply. His cock began throbbing and he knew that he was ready to cum. "Ready, my darling?" he whispered.

Gordon only whined wordlessly, begging for a full mouth of hot thick catcum.

Lightning threw his head back and yowled like a banshee, tapering off in series of incoherent yips and "yiff yiff YIFF ..."

Gordon swallowed frantically, but the load was too big for him to control it. White cum squirted out of the sides of his mouth. Lightning continued to pump until he suddenly plopped over onto his side, plucking his now-depleted cock from the tight lips.

They lay there on their sides in the sun, holding each other, kissing, rubbing each other's backs for about ten minutes. Then Lightning finished up by licking Gordon's face and chest clean. They rose, dressed, and left the grove paw-in-paw.

~=~

In the oak just above where the passionate felinoids had been making love, Flame and Cloud clutched each other, stroking each other's cocks. They'd silently perched there, vastly enjoying watching the lovers below. The squirrels soon came, their seed showering down upon the cats' recent bed, and they gasped with pleased relief.

"Do you think that we will ever ...?" said Flame.

"Yeah right, Sparkie - and what sort of flowers do you want for your funeral after Lightning finishes with you when you really proposition his mate?" asked Cloud.

"Well, expensive ones of course. But not orchids, Misty darling, orchids are just so ... tacky."

The two tiny squirrels laughed, licked each other clean, dressed, and bounded off through the treetops.

~=~

The next day, Isaac made Samuel get up and join him for breakfast. When the grumpy tod fussed over having to get up earlier than absolutely necessary, Isaac just said, "And what sort of excuse do you think that I'm going to make to the school when you're late again?"

Samuel sputtered slightly and pretended that he was far too interested in carving up his eggs to answer.

"Sam, you need to pay a call on Ser Strianach tomorrow."

In a puzzled tone, Samuel asked, "Why? Did I do something wrong? Is Ser Strianach angry with me?"

Strianach was familiar to everyone in the neighborhood, his two-hundred-pound five-foot-tall figure often seen slowly walking along the ways, keeping his balance with a huge piece of cured and varnished treeroot. The cane had a fist-sized round knot at the top end and there wasn't a kit or a cub in the neighborhood who failed to be very polite to the kilted badger. It didn't hurt to be careful, after all. Besides, he always had some sort of candy drops tucked away in his jacket pockets, and was an easy touch for a cinnamon or lemon or mint sweet.

"No, sweetheart, no problem. He just wants to tell you something he thinks is important."

"Okay. In the morning?"

"Yes. Oh, speaking of mornings, Sam ... did anything special happen at school that I need to know about?"

The tod's face suddenly became invisible, tucked down over his cereal bowl. A muffled "Umm - no, no, nothing that would interest you at all," came across the table.

Isaac nodded. "Mm-hmm." He knew perfectly well that Samuel had gone to see Coach Howell about the Combat Team try-outs. The Coach had telephoned Isaac afterward to make sure that Samuel had permission. The lynx smiled rather smugly to himself, saying nothing more about it. [So Sam wants to follow in my pawprints, does he? Oh my. Will my Navy be ready for this?]

~=~

David Strianach heard a light knocking at his door. Opening it, he found young Samuel standing there.

"S-ser, did you want me for something?" the tod asked hesitantly.

"Indeed. Come in and be seated."

Strianach poured two cups of the rose and hibiscus tea that he liked in the late mornings, carried them into the livingroom and offered one to the nervous young tod.

"Yes thank you ser."

The youngster was sitting rather stiffly on the edge of a chair. The badger looked at him and told him to relax. Samuel was too jumpy to relax though, until David's pet cat rubbed herself against his leg. He reached down and skritched her back. She rewarded him with a happy "prrrrt." That was enough to take the edge off his nervousness. He skritched her from her neck to her tail; she arched and curled around happily.

"Ah. I see Bastet is introducing herself - and getting herself another slavefurr," David smiled.

"Ser?"

"She is the one who runs things around here. Glad to see she takes to you. Now, I said to relax. You are only here to be told some things - some things that I really should have told you years ago, but I was not around then and I just never got around to hunting you up at the Orphans' Hostel. For which, I apologize."

Samuel's eyes widened hugely. Ser Strianach was apologizing to him?

"Ach, lad. Do not be so surprised - getting older does not mean that you quit making mistakes, it just means that you keep finding entirely new ones to make.

"Now, it concerns your parents. I knew your father well. He was a good furr in years past. It was a true pity when that accident took your mother back to the All so early. I think that is what made him, well, go the way he did. Every time that he looked at you, he saw her. He loved you dearly, but it tore at his heart. He started drinking to quiet those memories. And it killed him."

The old badger suddenly leaned toward Samuel, showing his teeth in a fierce grimace that terrified the young tod so badly he almost wet his pants.

"Listen well and remember this! Your dear father never did! There is nothing that is wrong with taking a drink. But always keep it under control. First you take a drink, then the drink takes a drink, then the drink takes YOU. That is what took your father, my dear friend and shipmate, away from us both!

"I just want to make sure that you have a clear image of what your mother was like. And what he was like in his younger days. Since you were only four at the time, you would not have many memories of her."

"Almost none, ser."

"Yes, well, they were fine furrs. I have known others who had more or who became more 'important', but I have never known anyfurr better. Neither one of them had any tolerance for phoniness or fakery. Your father went in the Navy - he first served on my vessel under my supervision. It was up in the Vast Lakes Region. Someday, I shall have to dig out the old records that I kept of that time and share them with you.

"Right now, there is only one thing that I need to pass on to you from them. That is: Be Honest. Never mistake what a furr's title is for what the furr himself is. Never let anyfurr pressure you into faking yourself up, either. Your father was a gardener, as you know - and a fine one he was too. He would have slapped down anyfurr who tried to call him a Landscaping Maintenance Engineer. Your mother worked as well, up until you came along. She washed linens and uniforms for hotels - if anyfurr called her a Laundry Processor instead of a washerwoman, she would have had hysterics."

The old badger sat back in his armchair and drank his tea. He wished he could be sure that the point of what he was saying was getting through comprehensively to the tod. [Ach, he is barely more than a kit. Am I making a fool of myself?]

There was a long silence while Samuel used the excuse of sipping tea to keep from speaking. Then he took a deep breath and broke the silence. "Do - do you think that my mother would have been disappointed that I'm a tailraiser?"

"Well now! That is certainly not a question that I expected. Harrumph ... No. In my opinion, and I knew them well, your parents both just wanted you to be happy, to be good, to find someone good to love and be loved by.

"Here now, if you are going to start weeping ..."

"N-no ser, I'm just - just so happy to know that you think that's how they'd be." Samuel's eyes were indeed brimming with tears, but not from upset. He was feeling very confused just then - he wished that his mother and father had lived, but then he'd never have been taken into Isaac Tufts's heart and home, and he loved Isaac with all his soul.

Strianach rose, got the kettle from the kitchen, and refilled their cups. Bastet hopped onto the table to see if someone was getting something she wanted. The two furrs took turns petting her, and were rewarded with some intense purring.

The two sat gazing out the window for a short while, then started an unemotional conversation. The badger was honestly interested in how teaching went these days. After about an hour, Samuel excused himself and went to the door to leave. Pausing, he looked back and said, "Thank you."