FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Storms follow Arya wherever she goes, now. The pounding rain obscures her final sight of the wondrous savanna. Despite nature's attempts to get her to let go, she stares coolly out at the smeared glass, thinking on Tobias's words about her identity. When he handed her the train ticket, he said that it wasn't safe for the two of them to be seen traveling together. The separation left her with little chance to truly identify what direction her life needs to take in order to truly identify herself. To that end, she decided against taking on her human guise. Her Uncle's goons would know to look out for her as much as they would look out for her disguises, so she might as well be comfortable.

She chuckles to herself at the very thought. Her... comfortable in her serpentine form? Her eyes glance around the train. There are many passengers of all kinds here, yet many of them, even the more predatory of species, gives her a wide berth. A young gazelle dressed in uniform pushes a cart down the aisle, offering snacks to the passengers. When he sees her, he stammers. "W... would you l-like something t-to eat or d-drink?"

Arya sniffs, but shifts herself closer toward him. "No, I'm quite good, thank you very much."

His escape down the rest of the hall without asking anyone else reveals his nerves. Probably afraid she'd choke the life out of him and swallow him whole. She can't help what people think upon first look, even if they don't know her personally. She leans back against the window once more and sighs.

Time passes, and multiple stops are made, but her trip has her going quite far before she would have to switch to a plane. Quite the roundabout way to get to the city, but one that needed to happen, regardless.

She hasn't seen the trolley boy in awhile, and her stomach growls. Cursing herself, she rises out of her chair and slithers down the hall, trying to pay no mind to the passengers scooting away from her as she makes her way towards the dining car. Whether by size or by intimidation, the idea of people making way for her is little comfort for her attempts to keep a low profile. She passes through the dividers between cars and soon finds herself over at a series of private seating, with sliding doors closed to keep anyone from seeing what was inside. On the other end of the hall is the food trolley, but there's no sign of the trolley boy. Hissing in annoyance, she slithers on up, only to hear shuffling and muttering coming from the slightly ajar door beside the discarded cart.

While the food tantalizes, the sounds pique her interest, and she presses herself up against the wall, peering into the slit that separates the hall from the room.

The sight makes her freeze in place, unable to tear herself away. The trolley boy stands in the middle of the room, his shirt unbuttoned and pulled apart to show off his thin body. His hands are bound together by a strong rope, lifted over his head and tied to the luggage rack. His eyes are covered by a black cloth. His tongue hangs down as he pants, his body quivering and her mind flashes to the tortures she has seen, yet something in the back of her mind tells her that this is different, somehow.

A yip from down below draws her eyes to the direction, only for her to see a dog sitting on her knees in front of the gazelle. Fully nude herself, she rubs her nose up against the gazelle's crotch, which makes him gasp and push his hips forward as he dangles from the ceiling.

"Must you tease him for this long?" a voice speaks up, and Arya notices another dog of the same breed, a male sitting back and reading a book with an odd boredom. "I'm sure he has a job to get back to."

The female pulls her face back from the gazelle's bulging loins and sighs. "Oh, brother. Must you make things so difficult? There is an art to our process, after all."

The brother huffs and closes his book, looking up at the gazelle, but he stops, his gaze locking at the door.

Arya curses and slides out from the doorway and back out of the hall to her seat. She plants herself fight there and curls up, trying to make herself as imperceptible as she possibly can. More eyes stare at her as she fails to be stealthy. There aren't many places to hide on a train without arousing suspicion, so she just has to hope that the dogs didn't see her snooping in on there... what was that, exactly? A kink display? Was that female having sex with the gazelle... in front of her brother!? What the hell?

The door slides open, and Arya snaps her gaze in the direction, only to lock eyes with the same strong gaze as before. The dog narrows his eyes and approaches her. Arya just sits straight up. It's do or die now. No going back.

"Is this seat taken?" he asks, motioning next to her.

"Of course it is," Arya says, flicking her tail against the seat next to her own to show off the bulk of her size. "I took it."

He smirks. "Of course you have." And he slides on in, sitting next to her anyway, which cramps her up against the wall, unable to escape. "Seems someone was a bit peckish, sneaking off to find the food trolley like that."

"I... I don't know what you're talking about," Arya says.

"Please..." he says, tapping his nose. "You can't possibly fool an expert tracker like me. I'll have you know I was captain of the tracking team at Tikham. Most people who aren't as sufficiently qualified would have to settle for someplace like, oh, I don't know, Harvard, Oxford, or Yale--those poor unfortunate bastards."