FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Jonathan Hawthorne stood in the laboratory of the grow house, watching as the workers installed a new heavy pane of glass with is arms crossed over his chest. He scowled and then turned to look at his son James, “Your brother has gone too far this time, bringing those vermin here.”

James nodded slowly, rubbing his chin, “I don’t think he intended it to quite go the way it did though.” He turned and led the older man back out of the laboratory and then up the stairs toward his office, and he continued talking. “He came in here alone, walked right past the guards at the gate. It was only by chance that Mister Bryce caught him when he did.”

“Why did the guards let him in?” Jonathan asked, gripping the handrail, and holding on tightly as he quickly grew tired from the exertion of climbing the stairs.

“I had to keep it a secret like you commanded. They didn’t know anything about Paul, and he’s always been welcome to visit me here.” Jonathan turned back to look at his father, “Are you alright?” he asked showing concern.

Jonathan waved a hand, “Yes, just a little winded. I haven’t had to climb these stairs in many years,” he said and then got back to the subject at hand, “I had hoped your brother would have come to his senses by now, but it’s obvious that’s not the case.” He regarded James for a moment, “So, what do you plan on doing about this? It’s bad enough that the rats constantly try to steal from us, but now that bastard child of mine is trying to help them.”

James nodded, “Well, I actually wanted to talk to you about that.” He continued up the stairs and then into his office. He pulled out the large chair from behind the desk for the older man.

Jonathan settled into the seat with a groan, “Oh? Speak then, what do you want to say?”

James went over to a shelf and pulled a book from it and set it down on the desk. “Well, as you know we keep records of all the thefts,” he opened the ledger to the last page and pointed, “Look at this, I have confirmed with all of our grow houses, and I also reached out to the dock master at the rail yard, and Mister Black at the coal mine. Rat raids are down by over fifty percent across the city.”

Jonathan snorted, “What of it?” he asked.

James shrugged, “Paul has been gone for nearly a month, and in that time until the other day, we haven’t had a single rat on one of our properties, nor any missing shipments. I don’t know what is going on there, but I’m sure Paul is the one behind it.”

Jonathan nodded, before coughing into a kerchief, “I don’t doubt that. There have been rumors someone matching Paul’s description has been buying up food at the market in large quantities.”

James straightened up, “Well then, do you know any more? How much food was bought? I think we could take advantage of this! Even better if we can find Paul and talk to him-”

Jonathan slammed his fist into the table, “No! That is out of the question!”

“Why not? If we can make some sort of bargain, it could benefit both of us,” James said.

“I will not bargain with him! He turned his back on this family and disrespected our good name. I will not dignify his decisions by treating him any better than the vermin he decided to wallow in filth with.” The older man got up from the chair, going over to the large windows overlooking the grow house, clearing his throat when he got there.

James sighed, “Come now father, see reason. I don’t like Paul’s choices either, but this is an opportunity that we should not squander! If we can ensure the rats will leave us alone, we can reduce the number of guards we have on staff, it would cut our operating costs significantly!”

“I don’t care how many guards you have to hire or the cost,” the older man said, letting out another cough, as he stared out at the workers moving boxes of plants and dirt around, tending to the various crops with all manner of chemicals and tools.

James shook his head, pacing a few times, “And what is going to happen when Paul runs out of money and the thieving begins again?”

Jonathan growled and cleared his throat again, “I have already increased the bounty for any rats the catchers bring in, that should encourage them to get back into the sewers to thin their numbers, and if that doesn’t work, then I have other means at my disposal.”

“Is that wise?” James asked, “Paul might get caught in the crossfire if he is down there, it’s happened before with sewer workers.”

Jonathan turned around to face him, “Paul made his choice, he can live or die with the consequences.”

James gave a slow nod, “If that is what you think is best,” he said.

Jonathan nodded and turned to the exit, “At least you have the sense to understand that,” he said.

James sat down at his desk and stroked his beard, as he contemplated his own next move. After considering his options, he sent for Bryce. The short stocky man soon arrived, and James nodded for him to close the door to the office, giving them some measure of privacy. “You were one of Paul’s friends in school, correct?” he asked.

Bryce gave a nod, “Aye, that I was.”

James turned around in his seat and looked to the large windows, with the workers moving about in their labor, like coveralled ants. “What was your impression of him when you saw him?”

Bryce gave a shrug, “He seemed normal enough to me.”

James nodded, gesturing for Bryce to continue, “Elaborate.”

Bryce nodded and cleared his throat, “Well, I could tell he was partially lying about his motives from the start. But he acted perfectly reasonable, if more than a little angry. Hell, he even gave me plenty of opportunity to release him without any trouble. I admit I was a bit pigheaded at that.” The stocky man’s body gave a shudder, “He… he did threaten me pretty convincingly when that giant she-devil of a rat showed up. I have never seen or heard of anything so ferocious!”

James turned around and leaned on the desk, waving a hand dismissively, “Yes yes yes, but you weren’t harmed, only given a warning. The only damage was to the glass wall of your lab, correct?”

Bryce nodded, “Yes, thinking back on it. That rat tossed that huge chunk of cement like it was nothing. It had a wicked knife and could have easily ended me there, but I guess it held back because of him.”

James nodded and rubbed his beard again in thought, “Do you think he could be reasoned with? Paul that is?”

Bryce cocked his head to the side, “Maybe…but to what end?”

James sighed, “My father thinks he knows best, but I disagree. I think Paul could be useful to us. Paying guards and repairing damage is one of our biggest expenses, especially because the rats aren’t shy about killing or maiming anyone who gets in their way.”

Bryce frowned, “I don’t think I like where this is going.”

James shrugged, “It’s not your concern to like or dislike it,” he got out a piece of paper and a pen and began to scribble on it. “Here, I have a task for you. Take that down to the rat catchers, tell them I’ll pay double whatever it was my father offered them to go hunting to instead deliver a message. Describe the rat to them, maybe the catchers know best where to find them.”

Bryce took the paper and swallowed, “As you wish, Master Hawthorne.”

James nodded, “And tell them to keep it secret from my father.”

†††

Down in the warrens, Gnarltooth paced back and forth in his chamber, snarling as he did so. “The disgusting human is everywhere!” he growled towards his familiar, “At meals, in the meeting hall, the kitchens, every damn tunnel!” he growled, “That bitch Pox and her sister are constantly parading him all over the warren.” The old rat spat on the floor.

His hound yawned and rolled over, letting out a groaning whine, smacking its muzzle a few times.

Gnarltooth continued his pacing and ranting, “That fool milk eyes will do nothing! Even as the human plays its tricks. ‘He hasn’t done anything. Full stomachs keep the peace,’ he says. ‘I trust Pox,’ he tells me. Trust Pox? Trust Pox?! It is Pox who goads the human’s wrath every chance she gets. It is Pox who defies her elders!” the rat spat again. “All because she was chosen by Hectis to be our plague bearer. All because her disease protects us from the devil blood suckers. She gets her special treatment from Milkeyes and Stumptail, they let her get away with everything.” The old rat stopped at a brick wall, punching it with his good fist. “But no one thanks Gnarltooth for protecting the clan from her! If I didn’t make the medicine herbs grow, they’d all die of sickness in days or weeks.”

The hound twitched and let out another groan as it rolled over again, yawning wide before licking its jaws.

“No, no thanks for Gnarltooth_. It’s always ‘we’re hungry, make food grow instead!’”_ he growled and shook his head, stamping around the chamber more. “Gnarltooth grows herbs and makes medicine, no thanks for him. Pox brings in a half rotted human corpse and she’s everyones favorite rat. They are so pathetic, always listening to their stomachs. Even now that human has them eating beans and grain out of his filthy hands!” The rat stopped his pacing once again and dropped onto an old chair, sighing as he rested his frame against the padding.

The hound got up and went over to him, and gave a low growl, its black eyes fixed on the rat.

Gnarltooth presented his bad hand, and the hound bit into it, beginning to lap at the hand as blood began to flow freely. “Having food is fine, but we don’t need that human. We can take from the humans. No…I must find a way to get rid of all of them. Pox, that wretched human, her barren runt of a sister…even Milkeyes and Stumptail if they get in my way.” He sat there, starting to breathe harder as the hound drank it’s fill of blood from him. “Hmm…how to do it though?” he mumbled, scratching an itch on his neck. “Need to think…” he said as he started to grow weaker from the feeding.

The hound finished it’s drinking and let out a yowling whining bark before trotting back over to its cushion and dropping back down onto it with a yawn.

The rat slumped in the seat, “Need to find a way to make Pox fulfill her oath. She will kill the human. Just need a rat to die and look like it was the human’s fault.”

†††

Elsewhere, in the warren’s large gathering hall, Paul fell hard on his ass. He panted and gasped for breath. The large elder rat, Stumptail, had caught him with a punch to the gut that knocked the wind completely out of him, and the larger rat was now standing over him as he and a dozen other rats all laughed. Stumptail then reached out with a meaty hand and hauled Paul up to his feet, steadying the human as he caught his breath.

Paul panted hard, wiping his mouth, and leaving a smear of blood on his sleeve. He was battered and bruised from fighting with the brute. Paul looked up at him, the large white rat was in much better shape than he was. Paul gave a bloody grin, while still panting hard, “Oy, I have enough yet?” he asked in the rat’s own tongue.

Stumptail regarded him for a moment and the hand released his arm before coming down on his back, knocking the wind out of Paul and sending him staggering forward into two of the assembled spectators who caught him and held him up. Stumptail snorted and then grinned, “Yes, you had enough for one day. We fight more tomorrow maybe, you can have a rematch!” the large rat bellowed, getting more laughs from the gathered crowd.

When Paul had recovered, he gave a polite bow, “Much appreciated, Elder,” he said, “I once again concede to your superior strength,” he then righted himself, looking up at the rat that dwarfed even Pox in stature. He then backed away to sit down, while two more rats moved to the center of the room to start fighting with each other.

When word had gotten around about Paul’s boxing hobby and that the human knew how to fight, rats started challenging him as a way to pass the time. Stumptail also soon found out about it and had demanded a chance to test Paul. The human was terrified at first, but Stumptail proved to be rather playful under his gruff exterior and was content to merely embarrass the human and bloody him up a bit but otherwise he left no permanent damage. Paul was thankful for that, as he had no doubt that despite the rat’s age, he was more than fit enough to finish him off if he had wanted.

“Done making a fool of yourself?” he heard Ticktock ask from behind him, before the smaller female slipped around and sat in his lap.

Paul winced as she began to lick at his wounds, “Yes, I think I am,” he said with a laugh. He had learned a good bit of the rat’s speech from her but preferred to use his own when possible. There were some pitches he couldn’t hit with his voice, or even hear for that matter, but he was able to stumble along. “I think Stumptail is really starting to like me,” he said and slipped his arms around her, pulling her against him. He then took hold of her hands and started to massage them gently.

She nodded and snuggled in against Paul, causing him to wince more. “Well, he hasn’t killed you yet,” Ticktock said switching to speaking the human tongue for him. She flexed her fingers as he worked over them, helping to ease a bit of the constant ache she suffered from. She was glad Paul didn’t show revulsion to her mutilated digits, and had told him so on numerous occasions.

The human rolled his eyes and then kissed the top of her head, “Well that’s just a cheery way to agree with me.”

She smiled and giggled a bit, leaning her head back and licking his chin, “I’m not agreeing,” she said, before relaxing against him, “I’m just stating an obvious fact.”

Paul chuckled a bit and sighed, pressing a hand to her stomach and squeezing her gently, “So what have you and Pox been up to, today?” he asked, “I haven’t seen you since this morning.”

Ticktock shrugged, “I was making curing potions. I don’t know where Pox is, I thought she would be here with you.”

Paul nodded some, rubbing over Ticktock’s sides, “Well that’s worrying…I hope she’s alright.”

Just then Pox appeared in the entry tunnel to the chamber they were in. She looked around and then spotting the pair, she wandered over slowly and with a slight wobble to her steps. She sat down on the ground next to Paul and leaned against the stonework wall.

Paul chuckled as he saw her, “There you are. You missed Stumptail giving me another thrashing,” he said with a smile, reaching out to take Pox’s hand.

Pox twitched and jerked her hand away and her fur bristled for a moment before she blinked and settled down again, “Sorry, Pox was busy, had to take care of things,” she said.

Ticktock’s nose twitched some and she glanced over at the other rat, and her ears lowered as she frowned and leaned closer, “Is something wrong? You don’t look so good, and you smell like vomit.”

Paul looked to Ticktock and then Pox. The large black rat did look under the weather, and being injured or weakened might have explained her sudden reaction to his touch. He had seen her react instinctively before, responding to violence with violence, and his forearm still bared the scars from her claws cutting him to the bone. “She’s right, you aren’t getting sick, are you?” he asked.

Pox waved them off, “Pox is fine, rats don’t get sick!” she said, grumbling loudly.

Paul and Ticktock looked at each other for a moment before he spoke up, “We are just concerned, that’s all,” he said.

Pox huffed again, shaking her head, “Is fine, Pox just ate bad meat, that all,” she said.

Paul grimaced at that comment. When there was talk of fresh meat among the rats, he had gotten curious. Pox had teased him about the rats eating human flesh before, but seeing the half butchered corpse on Ladle’s workbench had drove the point home that it was more than just teasing. It took a bit of convincing for her to portion out food separate for him that was just vegetables, but eventually she relented. “Well,” he said, “I hope it clears up quickly for you.” He turned his attention back to the two rats brawling in the center of the room and he rested his chin on the top of Ticktock’s head. The two had given up on civilized combat, and were tearing into each other with teeth and claws until finally one of them gave in.

Ticktock tilted her head and shook it after a moment, “I think it is stupid to fight like that, it’s a waste of energy,” she said shifting her position a bit in Paul’s lap.

He chuckled, “Well, usually betting makes it more interesting. Then at least you have a reason to want one or the other to win,” he said.

Pox huffed a bit, “Hard to do when nothing to bet.” She sighed and shifted over, nudging Ticktock out of the way and she rested her head in Paul’s lap, closing her eyes. “Ugh…meat must have been really bad…” she muttered.

Paul sighed a bit, rubbing at her scalp around her ears, “Do you want Ticktock to fetch you some nasty juice?” he asked. The stuff was the rat’s cure all, and it usually worked for just about everything.

Pox however shook her head, “No…Pox will just lay here a while,” she said.

Paul nodded a bit, “Of course,” he said, continuing to gently caress her, while exchanging a worried look with Ticktock. He then sighed and turned back to watch the two rats, who had finished their brawl, only to be replaced with another pair that got right to biting and scratching each other in brutal one on one combat.