The Shrine
#1 of An Expanding Enigma
Here's the start of a new commission for cynthia-feline! This one should be longer and involve quite a bit more changes happening to the poor (or lucky) kitty!
Art and characters belong to FA: Cynthia-Feline .
There exist a number of stereotypes associated with archaeologists. One of the more common ones is that of the scientist digging in the rocks, uncovering complete skeletons of dinosaurs. Those are paleontologists. Others perceive archaeologists to be rugged adventurers, avoiding dangerous yet extremely elaborate traps which attempt to destroy any intruders in ruins, without managing to simply block the exit path at the same time. These heroes, male or female, are not so much archaeologists as the embodiment of Hollywood's action driven cinematic misconstruction.
Real archaeologists study people's history, vying to discover clues about the forgotten past through material remains which have been lost beneath dust and time. If the legends are already known, the physical objects which they involve remain simply that: legends. Stories, on the other hand, imply knowledge of the past which comes from somewhere, and thus, nothing entirely new can be gained from discoveries, simply additions to what already exists. If a legend is written in a book, many previous attempts have been made to uncover its truth, while the stories, for their part, come from what has already been revealed.
The true mysteries remain long forgotten. They are not found within any books or legends. They are not preserved within a temple cluttered with functional traps. They remain out of sight from all that is seen, out of mind from all which would be able to remember them.
Cynthia felt right at home, working here. The cold climate of the Himalayas allowed her to work much more comfortably than her human colleagues, as her soft coat of blue and white fur kept her just at the right temperature. Physically unimposing, this woman of average height had the typical look of the scholar archaeologist. Thin and rather boyish in form, she looked rather unladylike in her work outfit, wearing cargo pants and keeping her long, icy blue hair in a ponytail. Her thick, bushy tail allowed others to recognize her as a feline without having to see her face, while the rest of her exposed body consisted of her white or dark blue fur, occasionally showing lighter coloured spots along her arms and legs.
Every now and then, her yellow eyes would manage to spot one of her species in the wild, feral animals which shared few of the characteristics she had. She could feel their watchful gaze was not the same as the one directed to her human assistants, which helped her with the more menial tasks. As she worked, she felt she was surrounded by kindred spirits, a bridge between two species which had nothing in common. Her thoughts often drifted off to the reason of her presence, here.
No search had been undertaken in this area by any scholarly group, as far as she knew. None of the local people she had talked to believed anything of interest would be found in this place. Research about this area could only be performed with difficulty, as oral tradition had always been the main method of transmission among the ancient peoples that once lived here. Through modernization, this had gradually been lost, with very few tidbits remaining here and there. What little of this information remaining was not of much use to Cynthia, as it was mostly details about the way of life, of which she already knew about.
Her goal was to discover fragments of the past beyond these people, before the arrival of the great religions centered on this mountain range, if possible. She wanted to know who lived here, where they were from, how they lived. Perhaps this would even lend a clue as to her own kind, the anthropomorphic animals referred to as animalis sapiens, commonly known as anthros or furries, a collective people which could not be unified as belong to a single one species, to the opposite of homo sapiens. Her people were a mix of both humans and animals of all kind, yet how this difference came to being was a mystery.
She highly doubted she would be the one to unravel this great question. Many theories had been made about the origin of anthros, some more far-fetched than others, and some simply filled with hatred and prejudice. Much research had been done to figure out the biological differences between the humans, furries, and animals, yet the explanation as to the origin had never been found. Her hope was to find some kind of clue to this within this area. She certainly didn't expect to answer the one question, but any slight advance which could be made was of major importance.
Cynthia was very lucky to have been granted authority over this dig site. The rapid melting of a glacier had revealed a ground untouched for hundreds of years. Her proximity to the area for unrelated cultural research had allowed her to watch the glacier's erosion first hand. Being the first scientist to discover this, she had the exclusive archaeological rights to this area. The locals sadly lacked the education or funding necessary to send an expedition themselves, and the way of the world meant this was how it worked, even if it was to her advantage.
This particular day, most of her assistants were taking a break. Provisions were low, and the prospecting was entirely finished, with the actual dig having started for about a week. They had worked well, and as the leader of the expedition, she had allowed them a few days of rest. The excavation had been a success, as it had not taken long to uncover remnants of the past. Most were simply tiny fragments of pottery, but it was something.
She was digging with only one member of her half-dozen team, another furry like her, although this one was a brown bear from a nearby village. Strong and adapted to the climate, just like her, he was very useful in her dig, as she often needed assistance. Digging deeper and deeper within the plot, dirt had to be carried out so that more objects could be unearthed. This culminated with the discovery of a tiny stone artifact. Thinking it was nothing but a rock, Cynthia had simply placed it within the box of debris which would be searched through later on, but little attention was immediately accorded to it.
When she realized this particular area was the remains of a shrine, however, she quickly realized the importance of this small stone object, and went to retrieve it. This was an object used in the ancient rituals of whoever had once lived here. She had to clean it, doing so carefully as she had the habit of doing, to discover just what it was. Careful observation revealed this to be a fertility idol of some kind, a relatively common form of stonework, also known as Venus figurines. These often represented fertile women with some parts of their body exaggerated to show their femininity, which may or may not have been clearly carved.
However, unlike all other figurines of this type discovered so far, this one was clearly meant to imitate a furry woman. The face, which had become eroded over time so that few of its features were visible, still kept a distinctive aspect of furry biology: a muzzle. This was not a mask or hat as some other figures had been shown to have, but clearly an elongated face and jaw, the likes of which no human could ever have. Any other details were hard to find. Maybe this object was carved to have a tail, but the features had deteriorated to the point that she was maybe just portrayed as carrying something on her back. Maybe this was just wishful thinking on Cynthia's part, but the presence of the snout gave her hope.
Setting the idol in the artifact box, Cynthia quickly resumed her search with renewed vigor, ignoring the surprise of her ursine assistant which also realized what this meant. Whatever she had uncovered in this place, it held a clue as to the origin of her kind. More and more of the open shrine was gradually exposed, eventually revealing a rather small stone altar, which had been withered by time, just like the figurine.
As she gradually exposed more and more of this once holy place, she could tell this was not part of a large, elaborate temple, or anything similar. This was just a simple altar, exposed to the elements and seeming usable by any individual who desired to use it. It was about a meter high, elevated on top of a small stone platform. Unlike sacrificial altars she had previously seen, this one was barely large enough to hold a few objects. Overall, it appeared to be a large stone cube, slightly tapering off towards the top. The monolithic stone which served as a pedestal for whatever ceremony once happened here was blank, having either always been this way, or simply had whichever marking or engravings on it be erased by the passage of time. This was a complete mystery, a possible missing link to the origin of anthros to which there was no explanation.
While she was trying to decipher any kind of writing anywhere along the stone, Cynthia's hand slipped along one of the upper corners, which had eroded itself in such a way to leave it sharp, leaving a small cut along the inside of her paw. What followed simply amazed her, as the small trickle of dark blue blood which leaked down from the cut seemed to simply seep into the stone, leaving no indication of what had just happened. After watching this strange phenomenon, she quickly turned her attention back to her paw, on which no cut was visible, leaving her to wonder if this had really been her blood. What followed made her heart beat rapidly.
Nothing happened.
The stone remained silent and still, nothing but the mysterious relic of the past it had been a few moments ago. She looked around to hope for confirmation of this strange event, but nobody was around. Her assistant had walked off at this precise moment to clean and sort the smaller artifacts. She knew this had just happened, however; she could feel the throbbing pain within her palm. She remained there for a short while, pondering all this.
Seeing it was getting late, she eventually decided to leave the site and return to her home in the nearby village. It was nothing special, just small temporary housing which had been provided to her by the local residents, with the help of the funding she received. Feeling incredibly tired, she took a quick shower and headed straight to bed, putting on her pajamas and collapsing on her mattress, the exhaustion of the day allowing her to fall asleep quite quickly.
She had a strange dream that night. She was flying home to see her family. The plane was filled with humans trying to play tennis in the alleys. She looked out the window to see Mr. T down on the ground, making a chicken cross a road. Her mother was then sitting next to her, with all the seats in her sight filled with her many siblings. She didn't know most of them, there were so many, but she knew they were all her sisters and brothers. Mida, her favourite sister, was sitting on the other side, pointing out the window. Naked, Mida opened the window and hopped outside, splashing Cynthia with water. Not confused in the slightest, she followed and simply floated in the water. Mida suddenly grabbed her from behind, the weight against her chest causing her to sink in.
Cynthia blinked, looking out the open window to see the stars casting their dark light into the rocks of the mountains. She had trouble breathing, a similar feeling as she had when she first came to these mountains. The altitude of this location meant the oxygen was much thinner than what she was used to at her own home, back in Germany. While her species gave her a natural adaptation to the climate and altitude, the sheer difference between those two ecosystems had needed some getting used to.
She had lived here for months now, however, yet she felt like her chest was being compressed, her lungs unable to take in as much air as they normally did. Moving her paw to rub her sternum, as if to massage it, she was surprised by the presence of the mound of soft flesh which stood in her way. She had always been as flat as a board, often leading her to be confused for a male by the humans which knew nothing of the sexual differences of snow leopards. She knew she was no longer dreaming, as confirmed by the self-inflicted slap across her cheek, which evicted what was left of her somnolence.
Sitting up, she was now certain that this new bodily mass on her chest was real. Her pajamas were not specifically loose, but they were never this tight, digging along her upper back to restrict her movements. Carefully, the cloth letting out soft creaks around her, she moves her arms slowly, bringing her paws to the buttons at the front. One by one, she undid them, each time followed by a gentle bounce of her breasts and a slight release of the pressure around her ribcage. She did this until she undid the button directly against her breasts, which simply undid itself on its own, being sent flying across the room, bouncing at least three times.
By now, she showed quite a large amount of cleavage, the soft, white fur appearing to spill out from her dark green top. Despite the strain of the cloth giving them a bit of a lift, she felt that their shape was their own, and they were determining the shape of her pajamas instead of the other way around. She wasn't very good with bras, she had never needed any before, being so small, but she guessed she was now at least a D-cup, if not slightly bigger.
She hesitated a few moments before attempting to directly touch them. Unsure if doing so would result in her breasts sending another button flying off, she wanted to make sure it was safe. She didn't want to risk breaking a window or harming anybody outside. Sighing softly, she exhaled to relieve some of the tension from her top, then, without breathing in just yet, she removed the one button carefully. Her breasts almost popped out from her top, which made it both easier for herself and the pajamas. Cupping each breast in one paw, she lifted them slightly, amazed at just how firm and heavy they were. Strangely enough, she felt no pain along her lower back, as one might expect from such a size up front.
Slowly, she slipped out of her bed and walked to the bathroom, taking light steps in case the added weight would affect her gait. Turning on the light, she looked at herself in the mirror for a short while, showing both admiration and curiosity towards these new additions to her body.
These feelings soon turned to questions. She was almost certain this was somehow related to the anomaly with the altar, from earlier that day. Maybe this was part of the explanation towards her kind. Or maybe it was just a strange coincidence. Maybe this was a just an animist tribe, one who worshipped her kind, or snow leopards, more specifically.
She also had more pressing concerns. She didn't want anybody to see her like this. She started creating scenarios within her mind. Maybe her crew would see this, and imagine it a misuse of funds in order for personal use, a misplaced cosmetic surgery. Maybe the funding would cease entirely. Maybe she would lose her job and credibility. Maybe she would be sentenced to...
She let out a long, slow sigh. This was not the time for paranoia. She would go to the dig site the next morning. Maybe she would wear a coat, or maybe she would leave for reasons of illness. She would call her family, ask for their suggestions.
It would all be settled; she just needed to stay calm.