FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Can I catch a ride with you? Janice asked after the bar closed. I was the one who’d closed the bar, and Janice was in no condition to drive home..if she even had a car? “Didn’t you have a designated driver?” I asked her.

“Yeah, the bitch hooked up with someone, and bailed on me. So, It’d be nice if you took me home, not in that way, though it’s not like I’d mind.” She said in that flirty drunk way a lot of women talked when drunk, but it was how I earned a living, getting them hammered.

“Sure, I’ll bite.” I say, unlocking my classic sunbeam roadster, then reaching over and popping her lock, and yeah, I just hoped she didn’t barf on me on the way to her home. I hit the ignition, and click, and no fire. I sigh and let off the brake, and shifted her into second, coasting down the hill and popped the clutch, and she hit, and caused Janice to chuckle drunkenly as the loud, buzzy car by modern standards got going.

We pulled out into traffic on the highway, and got the old sunbeam up to speed, she looked fast, but honestly she wasn’t. She handled like a dream though, light, and easy to drive in a way the British called “spirited”. However with a drunk woman in my car, who may spew at any moment, my driving was set on “grandma” level of spirit.

So, it was a moment’s shock when a oncoming vehicle pulled into my lane to pass the vehicle ahead of it. I almost got around it on the shoulder, but it clipped the sunbeam and sent us into a telephone pole, and that’s how I died, Truck-Kun’ed by a Pickup.

I awoke, seeing I was in a bright room, with an artist, drawing…something odd, a creature that was part bird, part squirrel, and part lizard, with a long furred neck and tail, but skinny stick legs and a canine looking muzzle and long expressive ears, and a single big buck tooth.

“Um, Hello?” I greet the artist.

“Give me a moment, ah there, it’s always so hard to capture the eye just right.” The artist said, drawing a sliver of black in the center of the pupil.

“Am I dead? Or is this a bad dream?” I ask the artist. “Your dreams must be pretty good, if meeting me qualifies as a bad dream.” The artist sniggers.

“Not you specifically, but the car crash bit.” I said.

“Ah, that did happen. Shame, that was one of the last Sunbeams in your country driven regularly.” The artist said.

“I died and you are more concerned about the car?” I say.

“It was your passenger who was fated to die that night, you were collateral damage, unfortunately,” The artist said, drawing the details onto the creature, white tufts of fur on a creamy beige body.

“Um, is this one of those Isekai things where you bring me into a magical world or something?” I ask.

“Good question, seeing you died before your time, that is an option. And I do need a soul with some knowledge, Jim. You were passed over for promotion because you were needed where you were, until that IED put an end to your career in the military, correct? The artist asked. “You already know, if you can read my mind.” I said drolly.

“True, but even gods like myself have rules about consent, and dropping you into my world without so much of a hello is considered bad form among my kind.” The artist says, drawing hand-feet onto it’s stick legs and arms too that were kind of cute.

“Is this where I get some sort of say in asking for something in my nest life?” I ask.

“Something like that, but if you are looking for magic, my world isn’t big on that.” Said the artist.

“Darn, was hoping..” I was saying before being intrrrupted.

“...You could be a wizard, I know, I know, but the art budget for flyng broomsticks just isn’t there. What I can offer you is a world where your knowledge and presense will mean you have a high social standing, a born leader, so to speak. With effort, you can turn things in your favor, I think.” The Artist says, showing me the picture, of the creature, it…had boobs, so guessing female.

“What’s the drawback?” I ask.

“A speech impediment, dietary restrictions, and the bruden of leadership mostly. So get used to not saying the sound of “th” anytime soon.” The artist chuckled, drawing in the shading and background, a setting of a maybe eastern USA native american settlement.

“Any other options?” I ask.

The artist pulls out another painting, this of a Snake looking thing with long claws. “This one needs a soul too, it’s a digger race, an ambush predator. You wouldn’t be anyone special, and rarely see the light of day.” Said the artist.

“Yeah, no reason to bring modern ideas, and lack the hands to actually make anything.” I say.

“My thoughts exactly, but do remember them, they have what you will lack, strength, stature, and patience that your people are not known for.” Says the artist, chuckling.

“You are going do drop me into the midst of a bunch of idiots, aren’t you?” I ask,

“Think of them as a clean slate, and it is your responsibility to improve the gene pool, and technology of your race.” The artist says, blowing on the canvas, which seems to be pulling me into it as they do.

“Hey, what’s your name?” I ask as I fall into the painting.

“My name is Valsalia, young Matriarch.”

And with that. I was..somewhere. I mean I was floating, in a tight space. It was comfortable, and peaceful too. I could ignore the noise from outside, and just exist. However, I was getting hungry, and I’d felt myself enough to know Valsalia had indeed made me one of those stick limbed furred things. Also Matriarch? Great. I was a chick. Possibly literally a chick, seeing I was being reborn.

My hunger was increasing, which made me wish I had a knife or something to cut this leathery shell that imprisoned me. I pushed, and kicked to no good, but in squirming, I nicked my arm with my face. Yes, actually my face, as that buck tooth was freaking sharp! Well, I’d wanted a knife, right? And with rediculously low effort, I was..hatched as it was an egg I was within as I gasped my first breath in the remains of a wrecked ship.

“Oh! Is Feemale!” Said the giant looking over me.

“Is!” said another. And thanks a lot Valsalia, they are idiots.

They are Jumper and Leaper, and I am tiny. Valsalia’s painting didn’t give a good scale of how small my people are. And I am clearly an infant version of my already small race. I’m like lose a fight with a crab size wise.

Jumper, Leaper, Runner, Fighter, and Builder all look at me that night as we rest in the ship. Apparently this is all there is, or has survived. There is one more egg in the ship, which is near where mine was. And I say was, as that is tonight’s dinner. It does not look appetizing, but there isn’t an abundance of other food. I’d like to talk, but I’m basically hyperventilating just to stay alive as my tiny lungs are still figureing out what their job is. I don’t feel like I’m drowning or suffocating, just breathing really rapidly.

“Is no encave nearby.” Said Fighter.

“Is food here, cove nearby has clams.” Said Builder.

“Is no matriarch zhough. No person to show us how to do zhings, I know some, Builder know some too, but zhere is not enough of us for an enclave of our own.” Said Leaper, who sounded like more of a leader type.

“Is no way from here, beach goes back to here.”said Runner who meant that we were on an island. A tropical one at that. On a shipwreck. We had to move ashore. But how to tell them when all I could manage was a chirp?

These people’s idea of “food” was deplorable in my eyes, but if I ate it whole, I didn’t have to taste it, not that my tiny tongue was capable of much of that anyway. And soon enough, I was alone, as the others had fallen asleep around the remaining egg yet to hatch. And all of a sudden my heart melted a bit as I recognized some of the sounds I’d heard in the egg as that of my kin keeping me safe from harm. I owed them, even though they were brutish, ingorant, and likely weak, I was put here to save them, I suppose.

And in being small, and nearly defenseless there was a limit on things I could do. But there was one thing I could do, that my elders couldn’t. Mainly go into small spaces. So, the fight was on, to scavenge what I could from parts of our wrecked ship. The real prize was a telescope. I didn't really need a far viewing thing at the moment, but we lacked a way to start a fire. Well we did until now. There were books, but they were written in the local language. There was a compass, but one so large that I could not move it. Dragging the collapsable telescope was hard enough, and if I had to choose one, it would be the fire-starter.

Soon I had a small hoard of stuff, including what had to be a letter opener I used to fight off a glowy flying thing that wanted a piece of me. After impaling it, and then using my tooth on the thing to finish it, I found it to be delicious, after licking my tooth off. My body needed food, but there was no way to eat this whole. I used to clean fish back on Earth, so this couldn’t be that bad, right?

It was worse. Think what hit my windshield, than blow your nose on it after a bad cold. But it’s legs and such had edible bits inside it’s exoskeleton. The rest of it, I tried to convince myself it was pudding. Pudding that I lacked a spoon to eat with..wait..those things in the ship were human sized. Did that god trick me and there were humans on this world? Or at least Human analogues? Surely the artist god wouldn’t do that to me. However for now, my little stick-furry lizard body did get into and out of places, and my night vision wasn’t bad either. I soon found the gally, and sure as fuck, they had actual utensils and cookware. Spoons were wooden, and large, but there are actual metal knives that will come in handier than what my comrades likely had. And so my treasure store grew, along with my list of available prey. But there wasn’t a drop of fresh water anywhere.

The ship was broken and holed midship, the two pieces joined by a narrow connecting piece, with my comrades living in the forward hold. I’d made my way to the rear part, and the captain’s quarters and mess, but now, I was sleepy and well fed, and having tied a small arsenal of weapons to me, I made my way over to the egg, and my kin and snuggled next to them.

“Our Feemale grew pointy zhings!” I was woken up by one of us having noticed my scavenging.

I stood, my collection of pointy, useful things more visible in the daylight. They’d been so heavy they drug on the ground getting them here, but now I had, I unburdened myself of all but the letter opener, which was big for my hands but useable. I drug the knife over to Leaper, and made to give it to him. Jumper took the knife, which like my letter opener, was big for his paws, but useable as he held it upwards.

“I zhink our little feemale just may be a matriarch after all.” Said Jumper, as I posed with my letter opener, a beam of light shining off our weapons.

“Is too small for Matriarch.” Said Fighter.

“Will grow.” Said Builder, as one of the glowy bugs flew by, and seeing I already was brandishing my weapon, with a ferocious squeak, I ended the thing.

“I am changing my mind, I zhink we will get along just fine.” Said Fighter as I ripped off the leg of the glowy thing and proceeded to dig in.

And so, I became one of them, more or less. OK, less, but still, when they found large objects moved onto the beach after a day’s scavenging, there was only me and the egg aboard the ship to have done it.

“I not going in there. It’s haunted! OoOOOOooooo. Said Runner hiding behind Fighter.

“I don’t care if it is haunted, that’s our stuff!” Said Jumper, and soon four of my people were trying to move what it’d taken me hours to get out there back into the ship. This wouldn’t do at all!

So I stood in their way and squeaked as loudly as I could at the males, who were making slow progress back to the ship.

“Is the little Matriarch. Um, we really need to get zhis back inside de boat, little matriarch.” Said Fighter.

I brandished my “sword” and pointed to ther tree line and squeaked again.

“No, de boat is zhis way.” Said Fighter as they moved my box closer to the ship. I sighed, And squeaked louder, feeling something inside give way, allowing me to breathe better as my chest expanded. You know, minus for boobs as of yet.

My nest squeak was longer and louder, quite a bit much more so. Which caused the males to stop and look at me.

“Box..to…trees…no…move…to…ship. I managed a word per breath. Way better than before.

“Feemale talk?” exclaimed Runner, as the males all gathered around me.

“To, to much young for talk, is ghost?” Asked Builder.

“Is..I..talk” I say

“Is! Little Feemale talk!” Exclaimed Runner, who danced happily alongside Builder, and Fighter and Jumper joined in, and a part of me couldn’t resist, so we danced, I atop the crate, they on the sand of the beach. It was way too easy to abandon rationality, and enjoy my first words, and the joy it caused my fellows.

Perhaps it was because my brain was the size of a shelled walnut? Well that’s a problem for future me I suppose.

“So, matriarch, what do now?” Asked Jumper after moving the box to the treeline.

“Need to find cave, or place where storm cannot break our stuff.” I say a word per breath, but I was getting used to it.

Leaper looked to the horizon all around us. “No clouds, storm here?”

I sighed, putting my forpaws on my hips. “Storm not today, but will come. Ship may not last when storm come! HEY! I say seeing my fellows drinking seawater and panicing.

“Is problem? Is how we survived when water ran out on ship. Yinglets drink sea water, little matriarch.” Jumper said, toussling my hair before drinking more.

I’d been surviving by eating, and apparently my body took water from what I was eating, but I was thirsty, so cautiously I took a drink, and yeah it was saltwater, but it was okay for something things had been living and dying in for millions of years. When over the next hours nobody went mad, I guessed it was a racial/species thing. We drank seawater. This made survival quite a bit easier, really. Maybe Valsalia wasn’t such an asshole after all.

That night, the other egg hatched. He didn’t look like me very much. I was cream and white, He was Red and Black, and thicker all around. I’d been eating like crazy and was getting stronger, I was sure of it, but this guy? He was bigger than I, and stronger too. Plus annoying too. When I made a kill, he’d pounce on my kill, and eat the majority of it.

And there was no reasoning with him either. If his older kin were dumb/ignorant, this kid was feral. Like wild bear feral, for a human analogue. If he wanted something of mine, he’d get it. But when he took the telescope, and bit the tube, and dented it, it was the last straw. I gathered floatsam and broken wood from the ship, and as the sun climbed in the sky, I focused the sun’s rays using the big lens from the telescope.

Some of the wood was damp, but some wasn’t, and soon I was awarded with a thin reed of smoke rising from some dry seaweed, then a flame! I blew upon it, and soon my campfire was burning merrily. The other hatchling decided he was going to take the fire, and recieved a painful lesson, screaming and running around. I tackled him, dousing the flame, but he was burnt, there was no doubt.

The smoke of the fire drew Leaper, who seeing the male’s injuries held him steady as we wrapped them in seaweed. We comforted the little guy who shivered and shaked as I absorbed the reality of living in a world without drugs, where a simple cut could fester into a fatal injury. As Leaper took care of the little guy, I gathered supplies to feed us, both from the shoreline and ship also.

My using the galley’s pot and making a stew from a few things I’d hunted, and seaweed did nothing to make me feel better as the little guy shivered in pain and shock that night. Everyone was fed, and we now have a campfire to cook and sleep by too. But even Jumper wasn’t very talky that night as I tended the fire.

One thing I’d noticed was my people had very odd sleep schedules. Like no more sleeping all night at all. I’d guess two hours, then everyone was good for a quarter of a day or so. And I was one of them too, and as much as I wanted to work to get us ashore before the next storm, my body demanded sleep as much as any of them.

It was as I fell asleep, with the burnt fuzzball coiled around me, and Runner around us both that I fell asleep. It should have been a peaceful rest.

*Congradulations! You have awakened the Matriarch System 1.0!*

A banner flashed in front of me. Ugh, it had to be a dream, right?

*Incoming message from the system manager*

“Hello! How’s life as a Yinglet so far?” Said the artist, Valsalia.

“I’m on a deserted island, with injured and scared people, not a pleasure cruise, Valsalia.” I say.

“Ah, yes. I did say you would be needed, and they do. To help, I designed this, the Matriarch System! It allows you to borrow the skill or physical trait of another yinglet for one cycle of staying awake once per day. Such as Runner’s inherent healing ability. Alone, he causes soothing and aches go away, but boosted by you copying it, your little companion should heal much faster.” The Artist said.

“What’s the catch?” I asked.

“Whaaaat~!” The god exclaimed like I’d offended it. “I give this of my good will, and this is how I’m treated. I’m shocked, but alas, what is, is, and you come from a skeptical world after all.” The god said.

“Look, I’m grateful for what help I can get, I just want to know what side effects there will be for using it.” I say

“Fine, there is a counter that slowly raises your libido the more you use the system. However, the system is meant for reproduction, primarially. The last two Humans who I made into Yinglets were real prudes, when it came to passing along their genes! So this corrects that. However, this is a PG format in regard to recording said activities, so all reproductive activities will be recorded via this interface. There, happy? You can use others powers, and with a few levels combine them to gain new powers, and this will help you breed better bloodlines too.” Valsalia said.

“PG Format, does this mean all the hanky-panky stuff will still happen, but offscreen?” I ask.

“That’s correct, the interface will allow you to pick which genes and strengths will be passed along for up to four yiinglet’s contrubuting to a single offspring.” Said Valsalia.

“Whew, you had me worried there, boss. I was in the Army, and being stranded on a leave it to beaver type of world wouldn’t cut it with me.” I said.

“I like that show, actually. But I do know what you mean, no fun times makes Talky a boring girl.” The god said.

“Talky?” I said.

“Your name, the talking hatchling, Talky. Quite fitting for a Matriarch, really. They have no concept of teacher yet, so Talky is close enough.” The God says as the menu for the system comes up again. “Let me guide you through your first use of the system, you are touching Runner, so pull up his stats, like so:

Runner, Yinglet Male, Age 6.

Str 4, End 11, Int 7, Lib 5, Def 1, Dex 19

Genetic Skills: Healing, Farsight.

“There! Now click on Healing, and drag it over to your icon, and Voila! The little guy will heal as long as you are within a few meters of him, you should see the healing icon when it is actve.” Valsalia said.

“So, That Lib stat? What’s that?” I asked.

“Ah, the Libido score. The higher it is, the more likely the male’s genes will be passed along to it’s offspring, and also how frustrated said Yinglet is. If that score gets too high, the inidvidual will be rendered unable to concentrate without relief. Fortunately males often seek their own kind for said relief, so relax Talky.” Said the God.

“You trapped me on an Island with Gay dudes and I’m the only Female?” I say, mentally skapping myself on the forehead.

“Nooo~! What this is, is a balance from a Gross gender imbalance in the species. The number of Males vastly outnumbers the amount of Females, so this aids in…reducing their Libidos without them fighting over you as an adult. Think of them as bisexual in inclination.” Said Valsalia.

“So, my Libido counter will go up until I relieve it by using this interface as an adult, correct?” I ask.

“That is correct, though that is currently locked out due to your immaturity, the Yinglet called Leaper has a Skill for fast growth that would aid in this by quite a bit if you wish to be more than snack sized anytime soon. That’s my hints for today, little Talky. Enjoy my world!” Said the God, poofing out as I awoke, and sure enough there was a Red Cresent symbol glowing brighter, then fading like a heart beating on the bottom tight side of my field of vision, which likely symbolized an active skill.

And as I awoke, the burnt fuzzball did look quite a bit better, and when I focused on Runner, I could see their Healing trait was also active, though it appeared to be a passive trait for him, and now I as well. It’s probably why he could run so far or fast as his name implies.

I’d check the other Yinglets in time, but for now, there was leftover “stew” and a mostly burnt out campfire to tend. Dawn was yet quite a ways off, and I’d be sitting here for most of the night it looks like.