FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The pink sun slowly rose, changing colors as it went. Undergoing a fiery metamorphosis into a more intense orange as it scaled the bright-blue sky. There was a reason most of this planet was sheer desert.

"Bloody kangaroos," Field muttered. "Why ... why did we come here, again?" he huffed, scurrying to catch up with Wren. Trudging through yellow-tan sand. Which resembled the color of the mouse's fur. The heat made it uncomfortable to walk in bare foot-paws, so the mouse did a bit of scurry-hopping, at first. Trying not to stand in one place for two long. But that tired him out. Eventually, he just accepted the pain, leaving visible paw-prints behind him. His prehensile tail, meanwhile, left a wavering line as it dragged.

"We were invited," Wren replied dully, beneath his breath.

When Luminous had arrived in orbit of the kangaroos' burnt, arid world, a request had been sent from the surface: for Wren and Field to come down via shuttle-pod. To mediate a dispute between several squabbling 'roo tribes. Wren agreed, and Field? Well, Field had been specially trained for diplomatic assignments. Mouses were gentle types, after all. The two rodents had arrived yesterday afternoon. Everything started fine: they'd been wined and dined. Participated in one of the local sporting games (some kind of volleyball thing), and had lengthy discussions with various political leaders.

Then, during the night, one of the tribes attacked the other. And, pretty soon, through chain reaction, they were all involved. A maelstrom resulted. Forcing Wren and Field to flee into the desert. With hastily packed backpacks, bottles of water, and some white robes. And little else. They were stranded. Mainly because the shuttle-pod was lying in about seventy pieces back at the settlement. And with the tribes sending out blocking signals to interfere with their rivals' communications, the two rodents' comm-badges were useless. They had no way of contacting Luminous.

"Guess we should stop trying to help furs, huh?" Wren posed, grumpily. "Guess, next time we're asked for help, we should tell them to ...

" ... yeah. We should," Field agreed, purposely cutting the squirrel off, if only to keep him from saying something crude.

"You okay back there?" Wren stopped. White robes billowing around him, reflecting the sunlight and heat away from him rather than absorbing it. In theory, anyway. His tail billowed like a proud flag.

"My fur's all ... totally matted," Field panted, "and I feel gross."

"Well, I have sand up my nose. I'm not complaining."

"In your nose? I have it in my ears. What if I lose my hearing? You know what a mouse without good ears is? He's, like ... that's like some kind of impotence." Eyes going wide.

Wren chuckled.

"It's not funny," Field insisted. "We have sensitive ears."

"I know." He'd messed around with Field's ears before. "Speaking of mouse-flesh, though ... "

He blushed. Though, in this desert light, it was hard to tell if he was blushing or just roasting.

" ... we should probably reapply your sun lotion. I think you sweated it off."

Pink nose sniffing. "I still smell it."

"Just to be safe ... " The squirrel dipped a shoulder, letting his backpack fall to the sand. He kneeled down and unzipped it, removing a bottle of sun lotion. Kody had replicated it especially for Field before they'd left. The squirrel stood back up, spurting the white, oily lotion onto a paw-pad. "Alright. Turn around."

"Wren ... "

" ... Field, just give me your tail."

A shy, submissive nod. Long, ropy tail steering into Wren's grasp. The squirrel wrapped his fingers around it, from the base. And slowly stroked upward to the tip. Applying every inch with lotion.

The mouse sighed.

"Time for the ears. This is gonna feel a lot better," Wren teased, knowingly. Squirting more lotion onto his paw-pad, dropping the bottle back into his backpack. And rubbing his friend's lobes. Gently, delicately, the backs of them. Tracing the rims. And wrapping his fingers around to the front to massage the insides.

" ... oh ... gosh." The words were whispered. His knees buckling. Ears beginning to flood with blood, and the capillaries showing round the rims, and ...

" ... almost done." A few more seconds of rubbing. Making sure the application was thorough. "There." He took his paws away.

And Field hung his head, taking a deep breath. "Uh ... I feel h-hotter."

Wren smiled, softly. He'd never known anyone to be so cute when they got flustered. Field's shyness was part of his appeal. "I bet. I'd offer you a drink, but ... I'm afraid we'll run out of water before we're rescued. We have to ration it."

Still recovering from the squirrel's ministrations, the mouse shyly asked, "What if the roos find us first? I mean, we're not trusting them anymore, right? They sort of ... "

" ... no, we can't let them find us. We're gonna have to make it to some kind of shelter." The squirrel put his backpack on, again. A paw over his eyes. Peering into the distance. The heat was the shimmering kind, making the air to ripple. Casting mirages everywhere. "Rella will have started investigating after we didn't check in at the scheduled time. She'll try and get us back. We just have to keep from frying before she succeeds." He was speaking with utter confidence, as if certain of a good outcome. It put Field at ease (which was the plan). Privately, though, Wren had his concerns. Because it was hot. And getting hotter.

After about twenty minutes, Field, squinting, pointed a paw. Thin, furry arm extending from the white of his robes, which were billowing in the wind. "There!" he shouted above the wind. "There! It's some kind of dilapidated bunker thing." Squeaking excitedly.

"Think you're right," Wren replied, also squinting. Whiskers wilting with exhaustion.

Not having any other choice, they headed for the structure.

Rella, standing with paws on hips, stared at the main viewer, locking eyes with a brutish, muscular kangaroo. With his blunted muzzle and thick limbs. Tattoos in his sandy fur. He radiated masculinity. As well as stubbornness.

"What do you want?" was his demand. He had a fairly deep voice.

"Hello to you, too," said Rella, deciding to cross her arms, now. Trying to figure out the best way to look authoritative and intimidating. She took a step forward, giving a little nod. "We've been waiting ten minutes to talk to you."

"I am busy."

"Oh?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'm afraid we're busy, too, so I'll make this quick: our captain and first officer, a squirrel and a mouse, were invited to your world to help mediate your dispute. Or should I say: disputes," Rella emphasized, dryly. "To serve as an objective outside party. And, apparently," she said, pacing one way. Stopping. Going the other way. Stopping, again, looking the 'roo straight in the eyes. "Apparently, you thought it might be fun to kick up some trouble. I know how roos love to kick."

The kangaroo had no visible reaction. "Your crew-furs are none of my concern."

"We believe you know where they are. That you lured them there and attacked them on purpose. Maybe to use as hostages, or to take our technology. Whatever the case. We believe that, if they're not in your possession, you must've driven them into the desert."

"I believe I am busy," was all the roo said.

Rella fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Where are they?" she demanded, uncrossing her arms. "Did you kill them?" She didn't even want to imagine that possibility, but she had to ask it.

"No."

Her heart breathed a sigh of relief.

"Our tribes have limited resources. We are nomads. Our skirmishes are simply that. Skirmishes. And are none of your concern."

"Then why ask for our help?"

"My tribe did not ask for help. One of the other tribes did." A dramatic pause. "It was to their error."

"Well, I don't know which tribe is what, but you're the only one we could get a comm channel with. We've been trying for hours. And I need to know where our crew-furs are. We want them back. Once we have them, we'll leave. You'll never see us again. I promise."

"Perhaps you know where they are. Perhaps you killed them," the roo accused, "and are trying to frame us. Perhaps you are in league with the other tribes."

"What?" She almost laughed the word out. "That's ridiculous."

"Is it?"

"Yes. Yes, it is," she said. Moving forward, 'til she was behind the chair at helm. Her paws resting on the back of it. "Our scanners won't work from orbit. The sand-storms kick up too much interference. We fear it'll take too long to scan manually with a shuttle-pod, so we'd like your help. If you could ... "

"I am busy."

Rella sighed, grinding her buckteeth. "You mentioned that ... "

"Prey have no business in the desert. Prey are weak. If your crew-furs die, it is their own fault. If they survive, then I and the gods commend them." The channel was cut. The roo's imagine replaced with that of the planet below.

"He hung up on us!" Rella hated it when furs did that.

Ketchy looked up from the comm station, with hesitation. "Should I call him back?"

Rella shook her head in annoyance. "No ... no, we'll just have to risk sending the pods."

"Those deserts are big," Adelaide said from Ops. With concern. "Field and Wren have two days, at most, before dehydration overwhelms them. And that's assuming they have a decent amount of water." The bat was more worried than she was letting on. But, as usual, her adept mental powers kept her completely poised.

Rella met Adelaide's eyes. "Your telepathy ... "

" ... yeah?"

"What's its range? I mean, how close to Field do you have to be to sense him? You two have a symbiotic bond, right?"

"In essence." The winged female nodded. "I could probably detect him from a quarter-mile away. It might be a weak connection, but ... "

" ... would that work from a moving shuttle-pod?"

Opening her winged arms, quietly. "Worth a try. And I am the Ops officer. I should lead the team."

"Alright," Rella whispered. "Take shuttle-pod two."

"Um ... you can't," Ketchy piped in. " It's in pieces on the planet."

"Shuttle-pod one, then." She looked to the skunk at helm. Where was Chester? Chester was a good pilot. "Find Chester. Take him. I'm only sending the two of you ... don't wanna risk stranding anyone else." Her bushy tail flittered. "If you have nothing in an hour, I'll assign two other furs to shuttle-pod three. Run low over the sand. Scan visually and with the computers. They should be the only rodents down there, so shouldn't be too hard," she hoped.

Adelaide nodded seriously, flapping her winged arms once or twice as she veered to the lift.

Rella turned her gaze back to the viewer. At the inhospitable world that greeted her eyes. Where her mate was. And Field. She prayed they were stronger than that sun.

Wren and Field were inside the run-down structure. It was made of cement and other things. Seemed pretty ancient. But, then, the kangaroos didn't have a very advanced society. How could they even survive on a world like this?

Field was in the corner, in the shade. But it was still hot in here. The sand filtered in, and the wind. And the air was so dry.

Wren sat a few feet away, also against the wall.

Field sniffled, grooming his whiskers absently, licking paw-pads, swiping at his face.

"Why are you doing that?" Wren asked, with a weird look.

"I'm a mouse. I can't help it." A pause. "You groom your tail with your tongue all the time."

A defensive twitch. "That's different ... "

" ... how?"

"I dunno," the squirrel admitted. Pausing. "It's just that mouses are so tidy, but you're licking your paws, which are probably dirty, so ... you're trying to tidy yourself in an untidy way. That's what they call a paradox."

"No. And I am not," the mouse emphasized, whiskers glistening with his own saliva, "untidy."

Wren raised his paws, in a gesture of surrender. "Didn't say that. Saying that what you were doing was ... "

" ... instinct. I can't help it. We're animals, aren't we? That's what furs are. This fine line between two realms. The civil. And the animal." A pause. "There are some instincts we can't ignore."

"Are you still talking about self-grooming habits?" Wren wondered. His voice becoming very soft.

Field didn't answer. Eventually saying, "At least I don't feel the need to climb things. At least, every time I see a tall item, I don't stare at it ... trying to figure its weight and distribution. And, also, you hoard acorns. And buckeyes. And those helicopter seeds ... "

"Not anymore."

"Only cause there are no trees on Luminous. There were back at the Academy. And at the base we were on."

"You calling me a tree-hugger?"

A coy turn of the head. "No."

"Field, let's not argue," Wren emphasized. "You know I'll win."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." An inhale. "Also, we have to conserve our energy." They were both stressed. And, as a result, cranky. They rarely butted heads.

Field paused. And returned to grooming his whiskers and fur with his tongue and paws. "I don't care," he said, between licks to his arm fur, "what you think of the grooming habits of mouses, cause we've been doing it for millions of years, and if we didn't get something out of it, we wouldn't do it."

Wren laughed.

"What?" The mouse blinked, stopping his grooming. He was pretty much done, anyway.

"Stubborn mouses are stupidly cute. And just ... watching you do that ... " He trailed.

The mouse's dimples appeared. "Well, it's cute when you climb trees," he admitted, in return. "You're so agile. Acrobatic. The way you move."

"When did I ever climb a tree in front of you?"

"You did, one time."

"I don't remember ... "

"I think that's because you were tipsy," Field supplied.

"Oh. That." Wren smiled. "Yeah, not a good idea to drink and climb." He looked down, drawing little shapes in the sand with his paws. His bushy tail was bogged down, matted with sweat. It lacked its normal soft sheen.

Whiskers twitching, the honey-furred mouse looked to the water bottles. He was so thirsty. But he looked away. It could wait.

"Truth or dare," Wren stated.

Field looked to him, raising a brow.

"Truth or dare, Field?"

"What?"

"It's a game."

"I know what it is." A frown. A whisker-twitch. "Why are we playing it?"

"Cause I wanna know stuff."

"Like, uh, let me guess," the mouse said, sarcastically, raising his index finger. "What a bat feels like?"

"H-heh ... uh. Well, I wasn't gonna ask that one first."

"Kody already asked me."

"And?" the squirrel pressed.

A 'zipping my lips' pantomime from the mouse.

Wren chuckled. "How do you know Adelaide isn't telling all the females what a mouse feels like?"

"Cause I'd know."

"This whole telepathy thing confuses the hell out of me."

Field nodded. "It was overwhelming, at first, I admit but ... I've adjusted, now." Eyes glazing. "It's really, really something."

"I don't doubt that. Everyone on C-deck, Section 8 ... can attest to it being 'really something'."

" ... what do you mean?" A shy blink.

"I mean, you're a squeaker. You always were. Even with me."

"So, what, the whole ship knows when I'm making love with my mate?" Eyes widening again.

"Well. A third of the ship, maybe." A bucktoothed grin.

The mouse's ears went beet-red. "Eh ... uh ... "

"Field, don't worry about it. You could say the same thing about almost every couple onboard. Furs are furs."

" ... I, uh ... yeah. I have heard noises from the quarters to our left and right, now that you mention it," Field admitted. "From Juneau's quarters, mostly."

"Didn't know she'd taken a mate."

"She spends all her time in engineering or her quarters. So, unless you're in one of those two places, you'd never know."

Wren nodded. Beginning to squirm. "Probably wasn't a good idea to start talking about sex. We're supposed to be relaxing. Saving every breath, every heartbeat ... go into conservancy mode." A pause. Changing the subject, only slightly. "Not to sound antagonistic, but ... you know you can't make every decision based on Adelaide knowing what you did. That's like being under constant surveillance."

"I know what she does, too. It goes both ways," Field insisted. "And I don't base all my decisions on that. She's very open-minded. I mean, she accepts the whole thing you and I have going on. And Kody. I mean, Kody's flirted with me several times, and she doesn't care ... if she was controlling me, she'd put a stop to that. She's just dominant, is all. That's how bats are. They take furs under their wing."

"I know. I meant it, a few days ago, when I said I thought she was good for you." A shy glance. "I'm just a little possessive about you, myself, I guess."

The mouse met his eyes.

The squirrel's heart quickened. He couldn't help it. He was alone, absolutely alone. With Field. "You know," he breathed. "I, uh ... you were talking about instincts. How, as furs, we're prisoner to some of them."

"Yeah ... " He breathed the word.

"I'm sorta feeling that way right now."

"I know." A moment of mousey quiet, before adding, "Me, too." They were both older than when they'd been together the first time. They were light years away from home. Their mates were both open-minded about their leanings. "I, uh. I ... we'll sweat. A lot. And then drink all the water, and ... "

" ... yeah." The squirrel rubbed at his cheeks. Huffing. "I can imagine." Maybe that was the wrong thing to say. Cause it only made him imagine it more. "We gotta come up with a distraction. Control ourselves. Otherwise ... " He was beginning to sound desperate.

"Uh. Um ... 'I spy.' With colors! Like, I spy something and the color is golden," Field suggested.

A hot an' heavy sigh. "Field. You're golden."

A shy twitch. "Oh." Licking his lips. "I was meaning the sand. But, uh ... "

" ... maybe closer to butterscotch. It's debatable," the squirrel said, eying the mouse. Blurting, intimately, "I feel like I want ... you know ... "

A whimper. Wriggling in place. "Wren." A squeak. "I do know, but ... I don't ... " He faltered. " ... even if Adelaide and Rella would understand, it'll ... "

" ... reawaken things. And we've moved on." Fervent nodding.

"Yeah. Mostly." A weak, twitchy glance, holding his tail in his paws. "I've gotta stop panting. I'm wasting moisture," Wren said.

"Me, too."

"Alright, alright." Digging his paws into the sand, closing his eyes. "We can't fall asleep. Cause we might not hear the shuttle-pods if they fly over. We have to keep talking."

"About, uh, sports?" Field suggest, helpfully.

"Sports! Alright. Top ten sporting events. Games, races, whatever ... all-time. Can be from any sport."

"I've already thought about this before." Field was very obsessive, to be honest. He over-thought most everything. And he had dozens of lists in his head for moments like this. "Okay, number ten ... "

Chester's whiskers twitched, tensely, as he turned the pod around, completing their first low-sweep of the desert. He was focusing their scans on the area closest to the settlement where which Wren and Field had landed. In the time since things went haywire, they couldn't have gotten too far on foot-paw.

Adelaide, in the co-pilot's seat, was extending her telepathic feelers (like metaphysical tendrils) as far as they could go. As well as keeping a visual eye out the windows. Her pink fur seemed to glow from the sunlight that slanted into the cabin.

"I never thought our missions would be so dangerous all the time," Chester admitted, nervously, over the hum of the thrusters. "Attacks. Kidnappings ... "

A reassuring smile from the bat. "It just seems that way. Dramatic events always loom larger."

"Maybe." His whiskers twitched, blunt-clawed fingers splaying o'er the controls. "I don't know how you're being so calm, lieutenant-commander, with your mate missing."

"You don't have to call me by rank." Squinting, turning her head to the right. "As for my calmness, I have a great deal of mental control."

"Must be nice." A sigh. "I wish I did."

"It's a lot harder than most furs think ... "

Chester blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Knowing what everyone thinks about you?" A tiny sigh. "Even when you don't want to? It can be an advantage and a burden. Granted, I can only touch the surface with most furs. Like with you, right now. It doesn't become a 'total' link unless it's ... well. You know."

"The biting thing?" A bashful side-glance from Chester.

"Mm-hmm." A deep breath. "Anyway, it took centuries for bats to escape the various stigmas and stereotypes ... vampires, witches. I'm sure some backwoods furs still think we suck blood." She paused. "Most of us want to fit into society. I mean, I try so hard to be a model fur. And then I'm resented for it? By 'friends' like Ketchy? I can't win ... " A slight chitter. Sometimes, she worried she wasn't 'normal'. " ... some bats have actually 'gone rogue. They refuse to use their voices to communicate. They speak entirely with telepathy. Pool their abilities to get what they want. If they decided to cause a big enough scene, there'd be a crackdown on all bats. The predators would see to that."

The piebald mouse wriggled, anxiously. "I, uh ... didn't know that."

"Most of the public doesn't. The Federation has more secrets than you think ... " She put on a sudden, apologetic smile. "Shouldn't be adding to your worries. Just that I, uh ... I've always had a thing for mouses," she admitted, grinning. Thinking about Field. Her darling mate. " ... so innocent. Such good listeners. So eager to please ... " She blew out a breath. She was working herself up.

Chester stayed quiet, his long, ropy tail flailing about.

A toothy grin. "So ... you and Juneau, huh?"

Chester swallowed. He'd been waiting for that. If anyone was going to find out, it was Adelaide. "Well ... uh. Maybe. A little."

"Just a little?" She chattered with mirth, looking out the window, reading the landscape like a book. "Her quarters are next to ours, Chester." Field had moved into Adelaide's quarters when they'd mated. "We've both heard you. Even if I wasn't telepathic, I know what 'pleasured' mouses sound like. So, it wasn't too hard to guess. Besides, love is hard to hide."

He bit back his own smile. "Yeah. Uh ... it is." He licked his lips, breathing in deeply through the nose. "It's not that we're trying to keep it a secret. She's just a work-a-holic, and ... so, we haven't socialized publicly yet. Just in private."

"Mm-h ... " Nodding. "Makes sense ... " Distracted, suddenly. "Hold on. I think I got something ... "

Their water was already gone, much sooner than anticipated. They were tired. Dry, hot, and miserable. No more games.

Field, at a sag, whispered something. His eyes were only half-open.

"What?" Wren whispered back.

Field shrugged, weakly. "I don't know." And he didn't.

Wren stared at him with concern. He could be suffering from heat delirium. So, he crawled over his friend, urging, "Field ... Field, come on. Stay awake, huh?"

"Awake?"

"Yes ... yes, don't go to sleep." Wren feared that, if the mouse did so, he wouldn't wake up.

"Sleep ... mm ... "

"No, no ... Field!" Wren shook the mouse.

Field squeaked in irritation, trying to bite Wren's paw.

"Ouch! Damn mouse!" Wren wrestled him to the ground. Pinned him. Huffing. "Look ... get a grip!"

Field blinked.

"Alright?" Wren whispered. "Stay with me."

Field nodded weakly. Eyes watering. "I'm sorry ... " The air was dry, but his eyes watered, all the same. He could cry in any environment. He was a very sensitive creature. "I'm sorry ... "

"Come on. Sit up." Wren propped the mouse up, with a heavy sigh.

"I'm a bad first officer. I'm a bad friend. I'm ... y-you don't like me anymore ... "

"Stop it," Wren whispered. "That's not true." He took a breath, and he hugged the mouse close. "Come on. We're gonna be okay."

"Are you s-sure?" he sobbed, coughing. "A-are ... are you sure? Wren?" He sounded terrified.

"I'm sure ... " His own eyes watered, and he held to the mouse. Nose against his cheek. "I won't let anything happen to you."

"I k-keep hearing noises," Field stammered. "The roos are going to get us."

Wren hadn't heard anything. But, then, Field's ears were a lot keener. He opened his mouth to say something else. Hesitating for a brief moment. And then ...

" ... anyone in there? Hello?"

Field's eyes popped open. As if he'd been infused with new energy. "Adelaide!" he called.

"Field!" The pink-furred bat kicked open the door to the bunker. Framed by desert sun and whipping sands. Looking like a rose amidst the rough. Like a glass of pink lemonade. Refreshing and sharply sweet. She gazed at her mate, dearly. And, not to forget the captain, looked his way, as well, adding, "Wren." Opening her winged arms, with a flourish. "The Calvary has arrived."

He weakly chuckled, taking a grateful breath. "Just in time."

Chester peeked into view, now, with a med-kit. And some extra water bottles. "We better get you two aboard the pod and back to the ship before the roos spot us and try to shoot us down!" He blurted the incredibly long sentence with an airy anxiety. Handing one water bottle to Wren. Giving the other to Field.

Adelaide got both Field and Wren to her feet while Chester scurried back to the pod to prep it for takeoff.

And, when all were safe and sound, Luminous left orbit and warped away. Leaving the kangaroos to their own quarrels.