FSE

Furry search engine

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I awoke, confused at the golden sunlight on my face. The daze faded as my mind gradually rebuilt the previous hours. The provisions were ready, the children were in bed, and I stood outside my friend's house at the edge of the village.

Before I worried about anything else, louds steps approached me. A large she-bear, clad in a faded yellow dress and dirty apron, addressed me with a worried complexion.

"They are right asleep now, cat-boy," she said. "And they won't be up for a while."

"Thank you, Louise," I replied. "And for letting the children stay. I doubt Ludolphe would even go if it not for you."

"No, it's no bother. The tykes will spend more time with the twins than pestering me!" She sighed, before whispering to me. "Sam, will you tell him this time?"

My first reaction came as a gulp, one that failed to ease my fears. "I don't think... this trip is the right time to deal with that," I murmured back.

She pressed her frowning brows with a disapproving grunt. "Curses, Samson. This can't go on and you know it. The longer you delay, the worse-"

Another set of steps intruded on our hushed conversation. From the dark house, a large bear stepped into the crispy air of early morning. He came dressed for travel in robust leather boots and reinforced clothes, all tucked beneath a backpack stuffed with provisions and useful tools. I could only imagine the exertion the towering bear went through, given how I struggled with the satchels around my belt.

The bear shielded his eyes from the rising sun blinding him. "We are all set," he spoke in a serious tone. "Thank you, sister. This means a lot to me."

Louise shook her head while putting her palm on her brother's right arm. "Not at all, Ludo. Take care, yes?"

The ursine huffed and offered his sister a quick bow. "Let us go, Samson," he continued, walking. "We have much ground to cover."

Through the developing morning, we walked steadily, not sharing a conversation longer than a handful of words. Ludo was never a talkative fellow, and I never minded that. As I had learned over the years, the bear had his own ways to express himself; ways I grew to enjoy.

Regardless, the silence beyond the waking nature around us gave me more time to think...

I had offered him the trip a week prior; at first, he just refused. Yet, I insisted that a visit to her grave--his first since her passing five years earlier--would give him the closure he needed. Still resistant, I ultimately had to reframe the story from a paternal standpoint, persuading him that without the burden of grief, he would act as a better father.

His sister's kindness to take in the children for the weekend proved a coup de grace for his resistance. Louise and her husband agreeing with me helped further push him to yield.

Even then, watching him walk right in beside me, I could not quite believe how far he had come in his healing process over those years. Seeing him filled me with pride and joy; the sort of emotion that leaves one aching and yearning.

Before I could stop it, my hand grazed his in a timid, silent plea. The ursine calmly turned to meet my blushing gaze. With a sigh, his own palm reached for mine; unlike my attempt, his grasp came with confidence and precision.

The sight and touch of his large, rough, brown fur enveloping my mix of gray and white, weakened the ache until, finally, I grasped back.

Another development during those years was how our relationship changed. It began as a need. Every year, most bears tend to get an intense rise in libido--known as a rut--if they don't copulate with some regularity.

After his wife's passing, Ludolphe severely suffered during his ruts. It hurt to watch him struggling to that extent, so, after a year, I came to him with a solution: me.

That did not completely surprise him, us three grew up pretty close, so only the bear siblings knew about my proclivities towards men. Even so, it still took a couple of gentle attempts for him to understand my point. And so, we began sleeping together once a year.

For the first two years, the whole experience had been uncomfortable and insensitive, but by the third time, we had spent so much time together outside the bedroom, we both grew to enjoy each other in a new way.

That night, after we, sweaty and gasping, had concluded our affair, instead of rising and going our own ways as usual, we lingered side by side on my bed. After some talking--the most I had ever made him talk--we decided to do more than just "the necessary."

Ludo and I began spending time together in secret. Sometimes we did have sex, but so many wonderful times, we just... lingered. Him and I, conversing or even silently enjoying each other's presence.

During that time, the effect our new relationship had on him became palpable. We all saw him let go of that sorrow and become happier, and more open in general. Louise herself figured it out in no time.

However, as another anniversary of her death approached, he grew colder and more silent. And, once his sister told me he had never visited the grave after that day, I came up with this trip.

A sudden lack of feeling broke my reminiscence. The forest reformed around me as I noticed the bear quickly let go of my hand. Confused, it took me some time before I noticed another set of travelers coming in the opposite direction.

We exchanged pleasantries as they passed by, but inside, the encounter grimly reminded me of the hostility towards my kind. Especially during that trip, when we are all alone, we had to remain vigilant and careful.

The painful yearning returned, but my hands could not reach what I wanted.

We spent the rest of the day on the road absorbed in our own thoughts. Our minds engrossed themselves so deeply, the orange hues of sunset crept in on us.

Not long after, we discovered a clearing in the trees along the road and made camp. A lingering uneasiness permeated the entire voyage and it only intensified when we realized we had only brought a single, cramped tent. While it had enough space for both of our bedrolls, we couldn't sleep there without touching each other all night.

Remembering his behavior over the month, I feared such proximity would do more harm than good. So I tried protesting and looking for options, but the bear just retorted with the same answer. "It's fine," he said over and over in a monotone voice. Knowing him, he meant to soothe my concerns, but all I could only think of how distant he sounded.

Regardless, we had a brief dinner by the fire. Only by his occasional hums and the slightest smile, I could tell he quite enjoyed the meal I had prepared.

After we finished eating and putting away the used utensils, we simply sat by the fire. The flame's warmth clashed against the wind's coldness in a comfortable balance. Across from me, he looked at the dancing blazes with a satisfied smile.

To anyone who saw him, Ludo came off as a stern bear without a trace of joy. He rarely smiled, especially after her passing; even during our moments alone he rarely revealed his grin. But, when he did, that sweetness on his face always captivated me; it urged me to reach out.

"Feeling well?" I said, looking at him.

"Hmm?" He said back without taking his eyes off the fire.

"You have a silly smile on you. What's on your mind?"

"A good memory..."

"Ah, I see." Knowing his life's many tragedies, there's only one person whose memory could elicit such joy in his face. "Is it about her?"

He snorted. "Aren't you a nosey cat?" He went quiet, deep in nostalgia for a second. "Yes, it is. Remember that Harvest Festival... some ten years ago?"

Confusion took me for five seconds; but then, I remembered with a guffaw. "Ah, yes! She insisted she could jump over the Great Fire, haha! You and Louise tried so hard to stop it, but I kept goading her!"

Then, it came his time to chuckle. "Heh. Thankfully, it only singed her dress."

"Haha, indeed..."

Our laughter died down into a wistful silence. An unique feeling draped over us; a mix of mourning, joy and shame. Soon, neither of us smiled anymore.

Not long after, inside that tent and in our bedrolls, we struggled to rest. Unsurprisingly, our efforts to keep each other apart, led to continuous failure. So, after much rustling and discomfort, we resorted to lingering in the awkward situation. Him on his back and me on my right side, we brushed against each other from chest to thigh.

Even through two layers of leather, his warmth easily made its way to me; a feeling that summoned the memory of a dozen nights when we embraced shamelessly. That pained longing returned.

The severity of the emotion astonished me. My heart pulsated with anguish as I lied next to him, and I couldn't simply reach out.

I found myself stuck in the chasm of having him within grasp but fearing that any effort might wound him. The situation did not let me sleep, but thankfully, someone else shared my plight.

Ludolphe huffed a mighty sigh. "You should rest."

"And so should you," I replied, doing my best to hide my own pain.

We lingered in uncomfortable silence for an eternity-long couple of seconds. And yet, the bear found the strength to challenge that infinity.

"Do you want to... sleep together?"

Part of me wanted to break down right there, and tell him everything on my mind, hold him in tears, make stupid demands neither of us could fulfill. But I could not let those feelings make the situation worse, not during that journey.

"No, I'm fine," I spoke, failing to restrain all my thoughts.

His face fled from the tent's ceiling and finally met me directly. "You are lying."

Simply meeting the glint in his eyes put me at the verge of tears. "I am."

He grunted, sighed and put himself in deep thought for a few seconds. Soon, he began undoing his bedroll and, before I had the chance to question, he undid mine, exposing our torsos to the nightly air.

Ludo wrapped his heavy arms around me and pulled us together into a comfortable embrace. That warm, ursine pelt burned away those constricted and shameful feelings, and lit a cozy and charming hearth instead. I desperately hugged back, with tears escaping my eyes.

I tremble in his arms before speaking behind a sniffle. "Ludo... Are you sure?"

"Yes," he grumbled back. "I... wanted it too."

My mouth hiccups into a teary smile. "Heh, of course."

We spend the next couple of minutes sharing the smallest conversation. Nothing engaging, just a pleasant activity to tire us out. It didn't take long for me to find myself talking to a snoring Ludolphe.

A silly smile formed on my face as I watched his slumbering muzzle hiss out warm breath. My tired grin faded as adoration became desire. With his face so close to mine, my mouth quivered.

Desperation made me imagine a scene where I would take him by the chin and plunge my tongue inside his cavernous mouth. One where, once he realizes, he takes me in his hands as well. I hear my lips smack against his, as my Ludo truly and finally proves his love for me.

My conscience stopped me with only an inch between us. Stern words, his request to never kiss, echoed in my thoughts. I drew back, allowing myself to find satisfaction in the way he hugged me on his own volition that night.

At that moment, as I drifted to slumber, something became quite clear to me. Louise was right, that situation could not continue. I made the choice then: somehow, I would tell him my feelings the following day.

Morning, breakfast, and the time spent on the road passed me by as I calculated the best way to deliver what I had to say.

Every approach I planted grew surrounded by a variety of uncertainties. In my mind, the slightest mistake could cause Ludolphe to misunderstand my words and possibly turn hostile against me.

Still stuck in deliberations, we left the main road and dove into the forest. The dirt road gave way to crunchy leaves and wet grass. Our steps into the wild determined the start of the last stretch of our journey.

After an hour, the bear's large hand pulled on my sleeve, I turned quickly to find his usually stoic face in a cute mix of tiredness and hunger.

"Okay," I said after a chuckle, "we can stop for lunch."

The meal also did not affect me as every part of my brain concocted the perfect wording that would lead to a happy ending for us; all of my attempts still ended in some sort of failure.

A gruff sound, a raspy exclamation from my partner's mouth, stopped my thoughts.

"Are you alright?" he said.

I looked at him in a daze. "Hmm? I am. Why?"

"You look... distracted. All day, actually."

"I don't see what you mean."

He pointed his muzzle to the bowl in my hands. "You have been looking at your gruel for a while now."

My gaze went where the ursine pointed, and found the raspy mix of cereal and milk staring back at me. The untouched mush not only stared, but also spoke. "Tell him," it said, "tell him now!"

And I heard the command again and again in my mind. Tell him, tell him, tell him!

"It's nothing," I finally replied with a smile. "I'm just not really hungry right now. Are you ready to go?"

He grumbled. "I am. Let us go, then."

It took all of my strength to keep going after that. He led, and I lagged behind, my thoughts plummeting into despair.

Shame, regret, anger at myself, and all the many other emotions all contributed to make any other thought unbearable. The sounds, the sights, the forest and the world itself faded until only Ludo and I remained. My mouth and my hands trembled with intolerable anxiety...

Until a collision abruptly halted my stride and nearly knocked me to the ground. My senses returned one by one; the crunch of dead leaves, the damp aroma of the forest, a mild breeze slithering through the trees, and, lastly, the enormous bear standing still and silent.

"Ludo!" I said after regaining balance. "What's the matter? Did something happen?"

He loudly inhaled and exhaled. "We... are here."

After a look around, the place grew perfectly familiar; just beyond the couple of trees in front of us, we would reach our destination.

But then, why was he not moving? I surely did not expect elation or excitement, but I never imagined he would become so motionless, so hesitant right before her resting place.

I approached him, looking for an explanation for his indecision; a close examination of his frame told me a thousand words Ludolphe would never say. His lower lip quivered with a strong desire to object to that last step. Led by dreadful anxiety, his breathing became uneven. And failing to grasp anything real, his hanging fingers twitched.

Initially, I thought of telling him to forsake our mission, to return home and never speak of this place again. But, a realization snuffed that idea: he hurt and longed, just like me.

Before saying anything, I reached for his yearning hand and anchored him to reality. My action drove him to jerk his head towards me.

"Let's go, Ludo," I said with a weepy, proud smile. "She's waiting."

My words almost broke him. I watched his complexion contort to hold back all those feelings. In the end, he responded by interlocking his fingers with mine.

"You are right," he said.

And so, we walked forwards, together.

The dense woodland gave way to open air as we were treated to a panoramic view of the surrounding grasslands. From that windy cliff, we saw the whole of the expansive forest, green mountains and hills, and, far in the distance, the infinite blue of the great sea. To look away from that gorgeous scene felt impossible.

Yet, something else drew more of our attention; right by the edge of that bluff, a short stone slab stood, and on it, a life condensed into a name and two dates. There, by that fantastic landscape, she enjoyed her eternal rest.

All the emotions the bear held back for years, made him shake. While I had guided him there, the journey belonged to him; I knew what I had to do.

My hand escaped his iron grip, which prompted Ludolphe to face me. "Go," I said in a whisper.

Not a second later, the ursine threw his cargo behind and rushed to the effigy. He ran freely, leaving a trail of teardrops in his wake. Finally unbound by shame, obligations or dread, he fell on his knees before the tombstone and wept.

Sobs and sniffles, the likes I never thought I would ever see coming from him, escaped his muzzle. "My Ada," he said. "I'm sorry, Ada! I'm sorry!"

I watched him crumble from a distance, and gave the space he needed to process the situation. Before I could hold back, a flurry of feelings came over me and I joined him in weeping for Adalaide. As he screamed her name, for the first time in years, my own grief manifested.

By the time our coping turned silent, the late afternoon sky had turned orange. Still leaving him some more time to think, I went on ahead and put up our tent.

The woods had gone dark when Ludo returned to me. He offered to help cook dinner, but, given the situation and the fact it was pretty much finished, I declined. That left him free to sit around the campfire and gaze at it once more.

We remained wordless through dinner again. Aside from a couple of huff, groans and smiles, we ate our food without even acknowledging what had happened that afternoon. Then, after hours of quietness, the bear spoke up.

"Samson," he said in a tone still filled with melancholy, "thank you for this. I didn't even know I needed it."

I smiled in response. "It's my pleasure. Do you feel any better?"

The ursine hummed in thought. "I think so. It... still hurts, but a weight certainly has been lifted."

"I'm glad."

A long pause followed those words. From his face, I could tell he attempted to formulate a sentence, to tell me something.

After a while he groaned with a sigh. "Forgive me, Sam. I don't have the words to tell you how grateful I am."

"It's fine. I'm certain you would come here on your own eventually."

"Well, I am not. And, I'm not talking about just this trip. Everything you have done for me, before and after Adalaide's passing..." He huffed and shook his head. "I have no words. Samson, I..." Another pause, a painful, long one where time stopped as we stared at each other. "I appreciate you."

Appreciate. The word flowed through the halls of my mind. I begged and screamed for that word alone to satisfy me; that his attempts proved his feelings and that "we" could keep going on appreciation alone. In the end, I failed.

"I'm glad to appreciate me, I really am. But... I cannot do this anymore." I rose, hiding my complexion in the darkness. "Ludo, what are we?"

"Huh?"

"What does our time spent together mean? Beyond sex, we have done things only lovers do, and I just can't keep doing it; not if you don't give a straight answer." The ursine remained silent as I turned away from the fire, plunging myself deeper into darkness. "You still hurt over Ada, and I understand that; I don't want to push you... But, Ludo, I want more from this, from us!"

"Sam..." I heard him rise, but did not look back.

Looking at the stars above, tears escaped my eyes. "I know it is hard for you, and I will remain your friend regardless of your decision. But I need to hear you tell me your feelings. That you can love again; I need to hear you say," my trembling voice became teary, "that you love m-"

In a single, sudden move he snuffed my words. During my spiel, he snuck behind me, wrapped himself around my body with one arm, and with his free hand, he clasped my chin to press my mouth to his.

For years, I had imagined that moment; the sort of big, romantic gesture only dreams can conjure. My daze faded in an instant, soon, I kissed him back. I welcomed his tongue in and dove into his muzzle with my own.

Sloppily, tenderly, loudly, I satisfied my thirst as his body bent mine into the ground; and the fall did not stop us. Our desire had made us drunk, and in the other's mouth we found the sweetest liquor.

We stopped, eventually. He hugged my lower torso while we spooned on the dark grass. Heaven dissipated and reason returned, a storm of emotions moved me to talk in whispers.

"So," I said, with his head on my shoulder, "what does that mean?"

I expected a long, thoughtful pause would follow, but he replied with an arrow of an answer. "It means... I don't know." I tried to protest, but Ludo kept talking. "I want to keep being like this with you. I'm sorry I cannot give you the words you want right now. But if that is your request, I promise I'll work every day to be able to do so."

"Ludo..."

"You have been wonderful to me all this time, so I understand it is not my place to ask this but... Could you wait for me just a little longer?"

Silence. Both around us and inside my mind. From that position, I realized I could see her dark grave before an endless sea of stars. Sharp pain and intolerable yearning took over me. I did not know how to respond.