FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Part II: Margot Is Dead

"I already tried to talk to your bone-witch friend, but he pushed me out of his dream before I even got a word out."

Finn awakes in a strange room to see a wolf. The woman is 19, maybe 20, and she stands before him. Her clothes are out of fashion--From, maybe... 30 years ago? He's not sure. She has shining snow-white fur, and a gray jacket a size too big for her.

She grins at him, holding out her paw. "Margot, queen of the dead." She says sarcastically. Finn takes it, confused. He must be dreaming. The wolf speaks again. "I don't much like the countryside, do you? All hills, and trees, and farms, and hillbillies. I like the nightlife of cities, and parties, and the rush you get from doing things you're not supposed to. Do you understand what I mean?" Finn nods hazily. What is going on? Where is he? Red walls, soft carpet, a queen-sized bed... Margot continues. "Which is why I was quite perturbed to find myself shoved into some country-bumpkin's cellar. But I got over that a while ago. Being a corpse is not as hard as you think. I make deals with people now. I'm a patron, or whatever. I come to desperate people to help them. And myself."

Finn nods absentmindedly, sleep begging for his return.

Margot rolls her eyes. "Can you even hear me right now? I'm giving you a grand speech and you look like a fucking zombie. Whatever. I have plenty of time. It's getting early outside, anyway. You look, like, 17. You probably have school." What is the strange wolf in front of him talking about? Why is he here? He's dreaming, isn't he? Margot goes on. "I have plenty of time. Lord knows I've waited long enough. I already tried to talk to your bone-witch friend, but he pushed me out of his dream before I even got a word out." Margot sighs, looking wistful. She stays that way for a few moments before her gaze locks back on to him. "Alright, kid. Wake up. You have a long day ahead of you." She punches his arm, and he bursts awake.

Finn's eyes shoot open, suddenly confused and alert. What was that? He doesn't even quite remember, he was half asleep the whole time.

His alarm blares in his ears. He felt like he'd hardly slept. How did his life get so messy so quickly? He smashes his alarm clock and rubs his eyes. Gods, he had a lot to think about.

He spends no time hustling himself into the shower. So, he found a dead body. That's, like, something that only happened on TV. But he'd found one. And he hadn't reported it. He'd left it in the hands of some random cat he hardly knew. What the hell had he gotten himself into? A dead fucking body, goddamnit! Someone had killed that fucking wolf and tried to hide it! He had discovered it. Him and River.

He thinks back to River as the shower's water pours over him. He was strange, for certain. Orange fur, mostly, but with a white muzzle that spread down his neck and presumably to his chest. Cats were one of the domesticated folk who first came across the sea. You usually don't see them around here. What was his family doing here? Were they one of the Old Families? No, he said his father was a construction worker. The Old Families are all businessmen and aristocrats. Who was he then? Soft voice, warm paws...

Bone witch. The words come to him. He recalls his dream once more. A strange wolf named Margot. I already tried to talk to your bone-witch friend, she had said. But that was just a dream, right? Unless... the bone in his drawer. Sitting there. Creamy, smooth. Waiting. Something that was once a life shoved into an obscure corner of his room.

Could it be? And if so, Margot called River a bone witch. Bone witches are, well... bone witches. Rare. Very rare. Maybe... 5 known families in all of the Confederation of Vinland? None of them are cats, though. But River's words come back to him. I have a thing for bones. That's a very strange thing to say. And he'd told Finn to take a bone. If hewas such a witch, that would complicate things. Bone witches are descendants of the witcheaters of old, who gained power through consuming flesh... and bones. Did they still do that? If so, did he make a mistake? Was that strange cat looking for a new fix? Finn lets out a frustrated sigh, washing the last of his orange and brown fur. His mind is in shambles right now. He has no idea what to think of, well, anything. He just wants to get his clothes on, get to class, and talk to the damn cat again. He has to have something productive to say.

The day is long and grueling, as all mondays are. Whatever dice the gods rolled when they chose his class schedule gave him math first bell. Staying up till past midnight and then having to do a subject he already detests while alert, well, not a good combination. As he does every day, though, he gets past it, and moves on to his next class: Vinlandic Military History, one of his favorites. He'd always loved history. He'd gone out of his way to take this elective. Today was a review about the War of Independence. And it's there, enthralled in another lecture, he notices him. Orange fur, feline ears... River, sitting a few rows in front of him. So that's where he recognizes him from. He'd been staring at the back of his head this whole time. Interesting. He didn't know that he and his new partner-in-crime had a class together. This could be useful in the future.

Class ends, and while walking out of the room, Finn makes sure to give River a nudge on the shoulder. "Psst." He whispers.

River looks to see the source, and almost jumps. "Finn?" He says, looking him up and down.

He nods. "A fellow history buff, aye?"

River laughs. "I guess. I didn't know we shared a class together." He rubs his eyes, looking tired.

"Me neither."

The two of them have to go down different hallways, though, so the conversation is cut short. They'll have to wait until after their last classes.

The day, as anticipated, continues to be a drawl. Same thing day in, day out--Nothing ever changes. It gets repetitive. Tiring. But that's life. As one of the few people who likes change, it's rough on Finn.

Time passes.

And more time passes.

And some more.

Five and a half hours later, the last bell rings, and a thousand tired students pack up their things and begin to leave. Not one to wait around, Finn wastes no time rushing through the crowded, noisy halls to room 201. It's pretty close to the building's main exit, but not so over-capacitated it's suffocating when they meet.

River's there waiting for him. When he sees Finn dodging his way through the hordes of people towards him, the feline smiles a small smile and waves. It's a sweet smile, Akin to one you'd receive from a clever friend trying to get out of punishment--Except more genuine.

Finn slides out of the main flow of the crowd to the wall where River is waiting. "Good to finally be here."

The cat nods his head. "Cheers to that."

Finn gestures to the stairs a few feet to the left of him. "Before we start talking, how about we go somewhere less oppressive, yeah?" River agrees and follows his lead as he leads the two of them down and out the exit to the sunlit school grounds below. Finding a place just outside the school's main welcoming area, the two sit down on the grass and begin their chat. Leaning against the brick building and looking out upon the sidewalk and parking lot past it, Finn rubs the top of his muzzle. Their predicament is fairly complicated. "So. What first?"

"The beginning, I think. ...We stole bones. One of which, an arm bone, I gave to you." River states.

"Mhm."

"I have those bones now, buried outside."

"Where is this going?" Finn asks.

River sighs. "...We've committed a serious crime together, Finn. And discovered one even more serious. I- I don't know what we've gotten ourselves into. But I hope we can get along."

Finn picks grass out of the dirt, throwing it onto the sidewalk. "I have no idea how to feel about all of this. What you're saying is all well and good, but... Have we done the right thing? What's going to happen now? Can- Can I trust you?"

River's gaze snaps up to his. "You can trust me, Finn. You can trust me. There are others--There are others you can't trust. But I strive to be trustworthy. And I intend to stay that way." For just that moment, his usually soft voice receives a hard underlining, one of confidence and past fears. Then, it goes away, like nothing ever happened. "I think we're doing the right thing. Sparking fear and paranoia in a murderer."

Finn blinks, staring at the bright blue eyed cat before him. There was something there in those words. The ones about trust. Not venom, not quite confidence... determination? Hope? It had been the same when he spoke about the Windboroughs last night. River wasn't giving him the full picture. But he wasn't going to press on it. Now for now, anyway. "You're probably right. It's just... I don't know. We're just kids, you and I. Teenagers. Neither of us are superheroes. This whole thing just seems, I don't know... bigger than us?" Finn gestures to the sky.

"What do you mean?" River asks.

Finn drops his paws to his lap. "I should probably tell you about the dream. Maybe that will make you understand. Did you dream last night, River?"

The feline scratches their chin, thinking. "For just a little bit, maybe. I remember red walls, a bed... Not much. I think my body just decided not to dream, somehow. What did you dream of, Finn?"

How does he put this? Will he sound crazy? Maybe? Maybe not? He could just be crazy. That'd clear a lot of things up. Oh well. There's only one way to find out. He fills River in on everything he could remember about what he dreamt, from beginning to end. About Margot and what she said. The cat listens intently with utmost interest.

When he finishes, blue eyes stare at him. "A bone witch? Thats- That's what you said, right?" Finn nods. The cat's eyes widened. River rests his head on his knees. It's a full minute before he says anything. How the dream-wolf hadn't said anything 100% damning, they'd both dreamt of the same place. That isn't something that happens every day. That gave significant credibility to said wolf's existence. River had probably suspected this for a while now, and just needed the last piece to fall in place. "So mother was right. It really does run in the family. She really was- was- I really am-" The cat squeezes his eyes shut. "I guess that's why I connect to the dead so much. I just thought... that was a normal witch thing."

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" Finn reaches out to rest his paw on River's shoulder, pressing it into the fabric of the light red sweatshirt. It's warm, almost as warm as his paw was. He had heard all cats were like that.

River buries his head deeper into his knees. "I'm sorry, I'm just- Remembering a lot right now." He sniffles, wiping his face. "I- I was very close to my mother. There are a lot of family secrets I know. And getting such information about something like this, I- it makes me wonder how much else she suspected was true."

Finn lets the words sink in. Sympathy worms its way into his heart once more.He'd always had both his parents, and how their relationship isn't always stable, to lose one of them... He feels a sudden urge to hug the cat, but resists it. "River, I'm so sorry."

The cat shakes his head. "No, it's fine. Don't worry about me. This is just- just overwhelming."

Finn wants to hug him, he really does. But he doesn't know River very well, they're in public, and he doesn't want to overstimulate the cat even more. So he settles for patting his back and letting the cat cry it out. "It's okay, lad. I don't judge. Do you need a ride home?"

River shakes his head. "No, I already called my dad." He was a year younger than Finn; when he was 16, it didn't surprise him that he hadn't gotten his driver's license yet.

Finn nods. "Alright. Well, I'm gonna head home now. Will you be alright if I leave you alone?"

The cat nods. "Wait, let me save my number on your phone." He says, voice still a little shaky. Finn obliges and hands him his cellphone. River logs his number into his contacts, and they part ways.

Finn drives home and pulls into the short, crumbling driveway. The house is old, and suffers because of it. Everything is just a step away from falling apart. But they get by. They always get by.

Finn knocks on the front door, knuckles and fur knocking into the flaking blue paint. He doesn't wait for a response; He knows my parents left the door unlocked for him. He steps inside, waving to his mother as she watches tv on the couch. She waves back. "Get home safe?" The orange-brown fox asks.

He rubs the sleep out of his eyes. 'As always, ma." She asks the same question every time he walks through the door. It gets repetitive, but that's what his mother likes. It's one of her many quirks. She'll probably ask him that one or two more times.

She mutes the tv. History channel, her favorite--Finn does get some things from his parents. "You're home later than usual."

He drops his bag on the couch. "Yeah. I was talking to my new friend."

His mother grins teasingly. "Oh? Is it a vixen?"

Finn rolls his eyes. "No. A cat named River. We share a class together."

His mother's head turns in curiosity. "A cat? Really? Like, domestic?"

"Yep."

She chuckles. "Well, I'll be damned! You making some foreign friends, Finny?"

Finn shrugs. Cats are nativeborn in the Germanic regions, usually the Preussens Republic. "He didn't have an accent or anything. I'm pretty sure he was born here."

"Your guess is as good as mine. Have you asked him?" Mother asks.

Finn shakes his head. "No. I will soon, I guess."

"Well, I'm curious now. You'll have to tell me about him later."

"Will do, ma."

The two continue their brief conversation for a minute or so longer. Dad wouldn't be home from the office for another hour, so it's just the two of them. Heeding his mother goodbye, Finn heads down his hallway to his room.