FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"Mind your step," Rhannah urges, stepping down from the porch of the establishment. She holds her hand out towards Halia. The horse does not take it but stumbles down a step and grabs onto the railing leading down. "I'm good," she replies, yet Rhannah can see through that quickly. "If you insist," Rhannah says. A sleek black car pulls up in front of them. Rhannah opens the back door, one hand on her hip. She says nothing, but Halia takes a few stumbling steps forward before peering into the vehicle. Sitting behind the driver's seat is a cat, dressed in a sharp suit. He glances at Halia through the mirror, and the two lock gazes a moment, but Halia just slumps into the seat, groaning with her eyes closed. Her world spins, only to snap back at the sound of Rhannah's voice. "Halia... dear. Where is Chance taking us?" "Huh?" "Your place. You look like you need a rest, and fast." Halia grumbles out an address--an adequate place, filled with light and in a nice neighborhood. Not too far from home. She's prepared it as a go-to destination for when she's far too out of it, so no one could follow her when she's like this. The car moves off, and the horse shuts her eyes, just to make the sick swirling stop, but a moment later, the vehicle stops. "Thank you, Chance... now then, up, up." "Huh?" Halia blinks away the blurriness, only to see her cover location. A click later, and Rhannah is already out of the car. Before Halia can protest, Rhannah has the door open and her hand out to help her. "N... no, I'm fine," "You look like you're going to collapse again," Rhannah says. Halia catches her hoof on the curb, stumbling forward, only for Rhannah to grab her by the arm. "See!? I can't leave you alone out here. Who knows if you can even make it up to those stairs." "Not even my stairs..." Halia grumbles "Excuse me?" "Dammit, Halia," the horse sighs. Defeated, Halia motions down the street. "Live that way..." "Oh, come on, then. I'll walk you down there myself." The rest of the journey is a blur for the horse--a series of phantom steps and blurred lights. A clicking of the key, a turning of the knob, and a disappearance into the darkness. By the time they were finally in the door, Halia is well and truly out cold. Rhannah isn't a small girl, but the horse is tightly packed with muscle, making the journey through the apartment a chore. Rhannah doesn't dare call Chance in here... having a strange man in Halia's house would only sour the relationship, and from the looks of things, the horse desperately needs a good companion. With the harsh light buzzing, the apartment was bathed in a light so yellow to make Charlotte Perkins Gilman have a field day. Whoever her landlord is has a thing for gold. It clashes with the crimson stylings of the horse. It's a shame, because red does compliment Halia well. Of course, decoration doesn't seem to be Halia's forte--neither does cleaning up. It's obvious she doesn't expect many guests. There are dishes in the sink, throw pillows tossed about, and the dust is so caked on things as to imply years of disuse. This ratty couch won't do for rest. Halia needs to sleep this off, so Rhannah stumbles through the room and to the back, finding the door to her bedroom quickly enough. Here are a few more personal items, sufficient to tell a story. Rhannah lowers Halia onto the bed, slipping the horse out of her jacket, and even undoing her pants, sliding them off. She doubts Halia is the pajama type, but it won't hurt to take a look for them. No, she's not some creeper looking to spy on this girl. She's trying to be helpful! Pictures. Seems Halia's the sentimental type. There she is with a group of others--a military unit. She's used to following orders, then. Interesting. There's an older picture with other horses, her family? Must hold them dear to have them so close to her when she sleeps. Perhaps estrangement because it's so old? Must have been a fun time, wherever they were. There are a couple of knick-knacks there as well from that trip. Another picture--an equine in full SCUBA gear underwater. The mystery that is Halia just gets more and more intriguing by the moment. Next for the drawers--that's where pajamas should be. Nope. Guns. "Ha... well, she knows how to take care of herself, I guess...?" Rhannah says, looking over her shoulder. Gentle snoring confirms her suspicions. "How about the closet?" Lots of t-shirts, branded with various local bars, some with "bouncer" written clearly on them. Others show off various physical events, making themselves metaphorical trophies for multiple runs and other such feats of endurance. "Well, guess that's that," Rhannah says. She lifts the horse's legs to get the sheets out from underneath her and then makes sure to tuck her in nice and tight. "There you go... now, let's see if we can't do anything about the rest of this place..."

Halia sits in the back of the bus, leaning back and enjoying the long trip home. There are people around her--people she recognizes, but she's not quite sure how. She turns and looks out the window, and there she sees the base. She's almost home. But that's when the realization hits her. She's been here before and- A loud eruption, the bus, no humvee, explodes in white-hot flames. Her leg... her leg, it's caught. She can't-She screams, reaching for her leg, but she ends up falling out of her bed still covered entirely in the sheets.