FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Shape-shifter

The sun was just kissing the hills as another beautiful day came to an end. At least if you were a human it was a beautiful day. For those of us of a more supernatural nature it was a terrible day. Two of the three high elders had been killed when the vampires started their rebellion. Even though the peace we, the changeling, and the werewolves had with them was rough it was still peace none the less. It had been a mere five years since the last war and in that time we had thought much advancement had been made. But they apparently had other plans.

Now because of the treacherous bastards I, Sirus Nightwolf, am stuck on patrol in the frozen tundra of the northern wastelands. As I run across the ice my paws make soft thuds, its relaxing when it's combined with the effects of the northern lights. On the downside however there are no scents for an arctic fox to smell. All there is to see is the blinding white of the snow. As I turn to check behind me I see my commander Daimion.

Daimion himself is one of the few werewolves that won't scare a human off just by walking around the corner. His body while muscular has more of a slender build to it and the women in town obsesses over his pale ice blue eyes and his jet black hair. Though I guess if they knew the truth they wouldn't be so fast in their approach of him. I stop my patrol and watch as he slowly makes his way over to me, his steps hardly breaking the snow. Days have gone by where the changelings, including myself, wondered how he manages such grace. Regardless of how he does it he slowly makes his way to me and in his soft elegant voice he ask for an update on our search.

"I haven't found him yet sir." I shout over the blistering wind, as I had the misfortune of being downwind of him.

"Keep looking, that vampire scum can't be too far away." He replies and then swiftly and silently he turns into his wolf forms and pads off into the distance. With a heavy sigh I turn and continue my search for the one remaining High Elder, with the orders that should we find him we are to kill him on sight, a task that in all honesty little of us could hope to accomplish on our own. Hours pass and still I find no trail of our pray. Carefully I make my way back to the camp and crawl into my tent to sleep.

I awoke in the woods, deep and green and full of life. The sounds of the forest were a pleasant change from the constant wind of the northern wastelands. As I sat a small blue bird landed on the stump next to me. Carefully I reached into my bag and pulled out a piece of stale bread. It crushed easily in my hand, tossing it into the wind the crumbs landed around the bird. He hopped around cheerfully taking little pieces at a time and slowly he made his way towards me. Slowly I opened my hand with a pile of the crumbs, cheerfully he hoped up and rested on my fingers as he nibbled at the crumbs.

Then swiftly with no warning the sky darkened and lightning flashed. Panicked the bird shot off into the trees. I turned into my fox form and darted under a fallen tree. Searching frantically I managed to find an abandon owls den. I hoped in just in time for the rain to start pouring hard. The wind howled furiously but, off in the distance I hear the footsteps of something large. My body tensed and my fur stood on end as i waited. Minutes went by but, with the tension it might has well of been hours, when finally they came into view. It was three human hunters, their large guns glistening in the rain and lightning.

"Check under that tree over there." One of them called, pointing in my direction.

The man on his left carefully and quietly made his way in my direction, the muscels in my legs tensed ready to run or fight should I have to do either of the two.

His face came into my view, and we made eye contact for just a moment. He stood and i heard the click of the gun as he slide a round into the chamber. Next came a device into the hole, it was oddly shaped and one end was burning, then smoke began to pour out of the burning end.

It hurt to breath, and the heat inside the hole was unbearable. I knew what might happen if i ran but staying inside would mean death for sure. I bolted fast as I could, not away from them as they expected but towards them. This forced them to lower their guns as I ran between them, giving me just a few extra seconds. In this world though that could be the difference in life and death. I darted in between two trees as the first shots went off. The branches ahead of me exploded in shards of wood. Zig zagging left and right I did all that I could to avoid being shot, that would not end well, for them or me.

The next volley came a few seconds later, one of their bullets came close enough to actually singe the hair on my tail. Left, right, right, left I dodged back and forth trying to lose them but to no avail. Then I ran into an even bigger problem, I suddenly realized i had nowhere to go. They had me trapped in-between to fallen trees, to high to jump over and to close to the ground to slip through the bottom. Their wasn't even time to attempt digging a hole. I silenced my panicking mind and listened as my heart pounded in my chest.

"Gottcha", the man in the front said as he aimed his gun at my face.

In slow motion I watched as the hammer went back and then moved forward to strike the bullet, sparks flew and thunder sounded.

AHHH!, I awoke sitting up right in my bed covered in a cold sweat. My breath came in short gasp. Not but three seconds later the guards came in.

"Its nothing, just a bad dream." I told them before they could ask.

Silently they turned and left. I dressed quickly and left the camp, my destination was an ice burg a few kilometers out from our camp. When i arrived i climbed my way to the top, layed out my sleeping bag and layed down to watch the northern lights. Truthfully as harsh as the weather is here, they make it worth it. With their swirling greens, blues, golds, and reds, the night sky was beautiful. Hours went by and soon the colors faded and gave way to the light of day, not that it lasted long this time of year, in fact the average day was spent in sixteen hours of dark. With a heavy sigh I packed up and headed back to base, they would be worried if I stayed out much longer.

When I arrived at the gate I was told to report to Damion's office immediately. As ordered I went straight to his tent, not even bothering to drop my pack off. When I entered the tent worry shot straight into my throat, as Damion stood over the body of my close and personal friend Marcus. Marcus was a member of the Lion clan. A beautiful example of an anthropomorphic lion, his body was covered with the short gold and tan hair of a lion. His main was a dark brown, and at the moment two arrows penetrated his muscular chest.

"He isn't dead, not yet anyways." Daimion said softly, so softly that I almost missed it.

"We need you to take him home Sirus. His people are the only ones that can help him."

Silently I nodded. I moved as fast as I could, but to me it felt like my body was moving threw cold honey. Everything dragged on and on. Second felt like minutes, and minutes felt like hours.

Finally I reached my tent, I quickly grabbed my travel supplies, and my winter sleeping bag and ran full sprint back to Daimion's office. When i returned they already had Marcus on the dog sled we would be using, strapped down and ready. I called on some of my fellow canine warriors to help pull the sled while i guided it form the back, and we where off. All in all the process took 10 minutes. With a swift bow and a goodbye I parted from Damion's tent.

We traveled all through that night, and all through the next day, finally resting at about midnight of our second night. Our travel so far had been fairly east for travel in the northern wastelands. The ice had held up, the snow was perfect. As we made camp everyone was silent, even though Marcus was a feline, and my warriors where canines, their was still a sense of brother-ship between us all. Then as we set up camp trouble started. The wind shifted direction and with the shift it brought a monstrous snow storm. All of us huddles in our tents, Marcus and I in one, and my men in three groups of three. We had no choice but to wait out the storm, so i dug into the ice and lined the hole with a special heat proof foil, then I reached into my pack and pulled out a vile. In the vile was a substance similar to water except that it was a tan and brown color and smelled like pine. Liquid wood, a necessary part of any travelers back. I poured just a bit into the bottom of the hole, and then touched a match to it. It took of quickly as liquid wood does, and soon its warmth flooded the tent.

Sleep didn't come easy, as worry flooded my mind. Would Marcus be okay? Would we find the last remaining elder? Who would we lose in the process? As a first lieutenant the worries never stop, but still the biggest question on my mind is how did Marcus get those arrows in his chest? No one told me how, and by my orders he wasn't supposed to be out that day, because of a training incident the day before.

The air had been cool, and fresh that day. Marcus had so far gone undefeated in the training tournament, his green eyes flashed brightly in the sun light as he marched up to his final match of the day. Dallirios, a werewolf form the western deserts, was to be his final opponents. Marcus clad in his furs and light scale armor drew his hand and a half sword, while Dallirious grasped his broadsword in his hands. Dallirious opened up the fight with a furious horizontal swing aimed at Marcus' neck. Marcus swiftly dodged it and thrusted at Dallirious' mid section. Dallirious side stepped the thrust, but he didn't do it unharmed, between his third and forth rib, Dallirious had a shallow gash n blood slowly began to seep form it soaking his white tunic a ruby red. The wound wasn't serious, it wasnt supposed to be, it was training after all, but Dallirious began to grow enraged. He bull rushed Marcus, barly dodging his blade and knocked him to the ground. As Marcus scrambled to get up Dallirious steped up and ran his sword through Marcus' calf.

The judges immediately sprang into action and stopped the fight but the damages had been done. It would take him well over a week to heal.

Yet here we were in a tent in the middle of the frozen tundra only four days after the incident. As I sat and wondered Marcus began to stir a little, adding a few drops of liquid wood to the fire, I went over and dabbed the sweat off his brow. I sighed heavily and leaned down and kissed his forehead, letting him know that it was me taking care of him, hoping that in some small way the fact might comfort him. Three days, three very precious days had been wasted waiting for the storm to die down enough to travel.

This is the original version of the story "Nightwolf" before I started turning it into Erotica. However, I'm thinking of incorporating the two into one story. Let me know what you think of the idea. Also I'm holding a vote for who Sirus should end up with in the end. Kevin the wolf, or Marcus the dark-mained lion.

Cast your vote, and leave a comment. Please and Thank you.