FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Kireza liked this forest far better than the first one she had been in. This one was far less humid, and far easier to navigate. There were no creeping vines laid across every pathway, no ferns hiding mud that jealously held onto whatever sank into it, no clouds of gnats or mosquitoes crashing into her exoskeleton in a desperate effort to bite at her joints. Just cool air and a dry path littered with crunchy leaves and dappled with sunlight.

Maybe a bit too cool. She wrapped her cloak around herself with her primary arms, drawing in the secondary that held a basket full of food as well. She left only one hand exposed, the one that held Jeril's.

"I really like the colors," she said, her compound eyes soaking in every drop of red, orange, and yellow that hung from the tree branches. "They remind me of home."

"It isn't always like this," Jeril said. He adjusted the strap on his lute case to stop it from digging into his shoulder. "Come here in summer and it's green as far as the eye can see. But they fall off in autumn. By the time the snow starts falling there's not much left but naked branches."

"That sounds awful," she said.

"It's really not. Winter has a beauty all its own. It's not like the desert, where it just rains and rains. There's nothing quite like seeing virgin snow first thing in the morning. The whole world seems to glow."

Kireza shuddered. "Weather so cold it freezes the rain before it falls... I don't think I could stand it."

"You might have to, soon enough. Zender says we're going to keep going north. Supposedly an earthquake exposed some old dwarven ruins in the mountains east of the Imperium. Should be good for raiding, if we can get there before every other scavenging party... sorry, 'adventuring' party on the continent gets there."

"I just hope it gets me closer to that key."

"Don't worry. I'm sure we'll find something. Hell, if it comes down to it we'll just break the door on that temple of yours."

Kireza's feelers wilted a bit. "We tried that. My tribe tried blowing it up. Another tried carving through it with picks. Nothing worked."

Jeril frowned at that. "I'm sure we'll find something there. Or somewhere." He coughed.

Kireza wasn't so sure. Ever since she'd left she'd been searching high and low for pieces of the key, but to no avail. The temple sucking the life out of her desert homeland, killing all the prey and drying up all the wells, was protected by a magical barrier. She was one of many kreen from many tribes sent out in search of a way to open it, following the ancient memories written into their blood to anywhere the ancestors who'd sealed it may have gone. She was beginning to lose hope. She couldn't return home empty-handed, or else there might not be a home to go back to.

Jeril squeezed her hand tightly. She looked down at him, forgetting her dark thoughts. "C'mon," he said. "Let's get moving. I want to get there before it gets too late."

"You still haven't told me where we're going," she said, squeezing back. She let him lead her down the path, leaves crunching underneath her naked feet. Though she'd abandoned her coarse sackcloth robe for something a bit warmer and softer, a dark gray wool affair, she still wore nothing on her feet and never planned to. She doubted any cobbler could make something comfortable for her anyway.

"If I told you, it would kind of defeat the purpose. You're not supposed to know. That's how surprises work."

"Why does it have to be a surprise, anyway?"

"It's more fun that way. What, are you allergic to fun?"

"No, I just don't see the point."

"Of fun?"

She flicked an antenna in annoyance. "Shut up."

Jeril just grinned at her.

"What's this ritual we're doing when we get there anyway?" Kireza asked. "You called it a picnic?"

"It's not a ritual, it's just a damn picnic."

"So we have to use a special basket, and a special blanket, and we have to eat special foods and we have to do it outside. But it's not a ritual."

"Calling it a 'ritual' makes it sound like a religious observance. I told you, it's just... eating outside."

"We did that this morning and we called it 'breakfast.'"

Jeril smirked at her. "Look who's learning a little snark with her Common."

"Your fault. A bit of you rubbed off on me."

"Well we have been doing a lot of rubbing together lately."

She hissed and swatted at him halfheartedly. "Shut up."

"I'm kind of proud of your sarcasm, actually. Soon enough I'll have you spouting off terrible puns."

"I have too much self-respect for that."

Jeril laughed and shook his head. "Come on, we're almost there."

"Wherever 'there' is," Kireza muttered.

Truth was, she was every bit as eager to get to their mysterious destination as Jeril was. They hadn't had an opportunity to be truly alone in some time. The past couple of months had been a monumental test of self-control for both of them. True, they'd sneaked off together in the middle of the night a few times. They stole a quick caress here and there where they could, and more than one language lesson had devolved into spontaneous (and sometimes messy) displays of affection, but for the most part they'd been very well-behaved. Their companions didn't suspect a thing, or so Jeril said. He was always better at picking up on such things, so she trusted him to keep a handle on it.

Kireza couldn't help but notice that as they drew closer to "there," the path started to slowly disappear. She twisted her head around to look back, feeling a little worried now. Did Jeril know where he was going?

The answer seemed to be a resounding "yes." He became more excited as they stepped further from the path, pushing his way through ferns and bushes, pushing aside branches. It wasn't long before he let go of her hand and ran on ahead. He stopped in front of a large tree covered in ivy, which hung down in heavy vines from a branch overhead, forming a sort of natural curtain. He stood proudly in front of it, one hand on his lute case.

"We're here!" Jeril said.

"A tree," Kireza said. "How exciting."

"You don't know the half of it," Jeril said. He pulled aside the curtain of ivy. "After you."

Kireza stooped beneath the branch and stepped through. She found herself a few dozen yards from the top of a cliff, with a ruined tower overlooking the horizon. "Ruined" was a bit of an understatement, she thought as she examined it. A sea of ivy covered the area, climbing up the tower and pushing its way in between the occasional brick. An outer covering of some sort was still visible in places on the tower, with curved lines of metal tracing their way across it. Most of the metal was gone, much like most of the outer covering, but the tower seemed solid enough.

"Well, what do you think?" Jeril asked.

Kireza balked. "It's, uh... it's... old?"

Jeril raised an eyebrow at her. "Very astute of you. I was more wondering if you liked it."

"I... don't know how to answer that."

Jeril's expression drooped. "Oh, come on! Look at this thing! It's fantastic! It must be a few thousand years old, and it's still standing!"

"If you say so. Looks like it's about to fall over."

"Not this tower. See the metal filigree? See the tall parapets? There used to be a focusing crystal at the top of this tower. This thing's elven. Old elven, from the days of their ancient empire. Must have been an outpost or a messaging relay."

"Well now it's a haven for squirrels and bats," Kireza said, not trying to hide the derision in her voice. "Come on, Jeril, you dragged me out here for this?"

"Give it a chance. If you don't like the outside, maybe you'll like what's inside."

Kireza doubted that, but she followed him in. There was a small alcove at the bottom, which might have received visitors in some ancient day, but now was host to little more than ivy and insects. There was a spiral staircase that led up, but the bottom few stairs were collapsed. Jeril wasn't deterred. He found handholds and footholds to climb in the wall, and easily found a way up to the still-intact steps, though it took him a few minutes.

"Climb on up," Jeril said, extending a helping hand.

Kireza scoffed at him. She transferred the basket to a primary and handed it off to Jeril. "Stand back."

"What?"

"Please."

Jeril took the basket and climbed up a few steps. Kireza squatted, doing some quick mental calculations, then pushed off with her legs. She leapt across the collapsed steps and up to the intact stairway, landing a scant few feet from Jeril. She grabbed onto him as she landed, leaning into him a little bit, but not so much that she'd push him over.

Jeril smirked at her. "Show-off," he said, kissing her clypeus lightly.

"You know you love it," she said. She took the basket from him and followed him up the stairs.

The covering and the metal accents inside the tower had fared much better than the exterior. There were even handrails still intact in some places, baring a hint of the history of this place. Still, mold had crept into it, and filled the many cracks that traced their way through the walls. Jeril whistled as they climbed, a lilting, simple tune that was easy to follow.

"What's that you're whistling?" Kireza said.

"Oh. It's a composition I've been working on. What do you think?" Jeril said.

"I like it."

"Well, I'll play you a bit later on. I need some lyrics to go with it, but nothing's come to mind just yet."

"I'm sure you'll think of something."

Jeril continued with his whistling, adding a little flourish here or there to spice it up. Kireza couldn't do much to criticize. Musical traditions were sparse amongst kreen, and even by their standards she was far from gifted in that area. She had to be content with simply encouraging him.

Soon enough they had reached the top. Jeril breathed heavily, and leaned against the wall for a brief rest after climbing the final stair. Kireza stepped past him, perfectly comfortable with the climb. It was nothing for her. Kreen harried prey for hours across shifting sands in the hot sun with regularity. She took a look around, letting Jeril catch his breath.

This room was just as plain as the one at the bottom of the tower. It was round with a peaked roof, with small windows letting light in, and a doorway leading outside, presumably to a balcony.

"Go on out," Jeril said. "Your surprise is waiting out there."

"What's out there?"

Jeril rolled his eyes. "It's a surprise. Do we need to have a review session on that word?"

She snapped her mandibles and flicked an antenna at him. "No need to be rude," she said, and stepped outside.

She gasped as she caught sight of the view. The valley stretched out below her, the trees a sea of warm colors that stood in stark contrast to the purple mountains off in the distance. The forest had overrun what looked to be an ancient elven city. Broken spires dotted the landscape, towers much like the one she stood in, albeit ones that hadn't fared nearly as well in the passing centuries. Beyond that she saw half-destroyed arches, shattered domes torn apart by the growth of the trees that now filled them, and a large cylindrical building that dominated a hill in the center of it all.

"Wow," she said as Jeril walked up next to her. "It's beautiful."

"You haven't seen anything yet. Wait until the sun sets. That's when the real show starts," he said. He wrapped an arm around her waist. "Now, I don't know about you, but I'm starving. Let's eat."

The balcony was surprisingly large. There was plenty of room for them to unfurl the blanket and get down to the important business of eating outside in accordance with Jeril's strict rules for picnicking, despite his insistence that it was not a ritual. The blanket was a hideous checkered red and white affair, but that was apparently what a picnic required. She sat down across from him ans set down the basket, then let him set everything up.

"Everything" was just wooden plates with a single cloth napkin, and a small variety of food taken from their troupe's wagon. Cold roast beef, magically preserved, with cheese, some cheap wine, dried berries, and some bread and jam for Jeril. They dug in with gusto, neither of them having eaten since breakfast.

The wine was sweet and the cheese flavorful, but Kireza limited her intake of both. She'd never quite acquired a taste for wine, and too much cheese was bad for her digestion, so she was mostly limited to the roast beef, which Jeril took only a small hunk of for himself. It was a bit plain for her tastes, though.

"This roast beef isn't very good," she said.

"Well, it's all I could take," Jeril said. "Krashi guards all the good stuff and I didn't feel like getting stabbed trying to take some of his dry-cured ham. Now that would have been good for a picnic." He tore off a bit of bread and spread a bit of jam on it.

"Give me some of that."

Jeril raised an eyebrow at her. "What, bread? You can't eat it. You'll get sick."

"Not bread, the fruit paste."

"What on earth for?"

"For my meat."

Jeril scoffed. He scoffed again for good measure, just to get his point across. "You don't put jam on meat."

"Why not?"

"You just don't. It's not a thing you do."

"It's a thing I want to do. Give it here!"

"No! It's a culinary crime! I won't allow it."

"Give it!" she said, snatching at the jar. Jeril leaned back, twisting away from her grasp.

"Stop it!" Jeril said.

She grabbed at it again, finally snatching it out of his hand, but he kept the knife away from her. When she went for that, Jeril grabbed for the jar, but only succeeding in getting jam on his fingers.

"Aah!" he cried. "Now look what you did!"

"Serves you right," she said. She spread a bit of jam on the roast beef and took a bite. The sweetness didn't do the meat any favors, but at least it tasted like something.

"Satisfied?" Jeril said, an exaggerated sneer on his face.

"Not really. I think you were right."

"There oughta be a law against this," Jeril grumbled. "Against both these crimes you've committed. Putting jam on your roast beef, and on an innocent bystander in the process." He leaned forward and smeared a bit of the jam on her face.

She grabbed at his hand with her mouth, using her blunt secondary jaws to hold him. She was careful to keep the sharp primaries away. She suckled on his finger, savoring the taste of the jam... and of his skin.

A smile crept its way across Jeril's face as she rolled her tongue around his finger. In a moment the jam was gone, and he pulled his hand away. Jeril laughed, then leaned in to lick away the jam he had spread on her face. He let his mouth wander lower, until he had his lips wrapped around one of her palps, the small taste-sensitive feelers surrounding her mandibles. She tasted the salt and acid of his saliva, felt the velvety texture of his tongue.

As he pulled away the seed of an idea sprouted in her mind. She stuck the knife back in the jar of jam, and pulled out a dollop of the sticky, sweet paste inside. Jeril raised an eyebrow at her, but he didn't do much else. He wanted to see where she was going with this. With her primary hands, she unbuttoned his shirt partway and drew it down his torso, then used her secondaries to spread a bit of jam on his neck and shoulder. She leaned forward and pressed her mouth against him, slowly working her way across the line of jam she had laid down.

Jeril inhaled sharply as her tongue reached the base of his neck, her feelers dancing across his face and scalp as she licked his skin. The subtle palette of salts and oils had become familiar to her by now, as were the traces of pheromones, much less potent than that of her own kind, leaching out into his sweat. Months ago these scents had been fresh and alien to her, their meanings lost in the vagaries of his flesh, but now she recognized them for what they were: arousal, excitement, desire.

The alluring bouquet of scents and tastes Jeril's body secreted pressed her on. She pulled insistently on his shirt until he no longer wore it, and spread more jam on him, this time on his chest, in a line spreading down to his belly. Jeril murmured the incantation of a simple cantrip, warming the air around them for comfort against the chill of autumn and the slowly-darkening skies.

His hand found its way onto the back of her head as she licked up the last of the jam on his stomach, gently pushing her down towards his groin. She nibbled slowly on the outline of his erection through his trousers, resting her feelers against his chest, which moved in time with his rapid breathing. She grabbed his belt with her mouthparts, holding it in place with a secondary as she pulled it free. In a moment his manhood was exposed to the air, throbbing in anticipation.

Kireza spread her mandibles and maxillae wide, sticking out her stubby tongue and pressing it to the base of his penis. Slowly, she dragged it up the underside, swirling it around as she reached the tip. Jeril licked his lips, watching as Kireza dipped the knife into the jam jar once again and this time spread it all over his shaft, taking the time to cover it completely.

Jeril cleared his throat and grinned. "I thought I told you that you don't put jam on meat."

"You never know when to shut up," Kireza said. She opened wide and dipped the head of his cock into her mouth, grabbing at it with her maxillae. She massaged him with her mouthparts, teasing him for a moment before engulfing him down to the hilt. Jeril let out a moan as Kireza tasted him, the sweetness and tartness of the jam giving way to the salty, oily musk of his flesh. Jeril gently grabbed at her head with both hands, urging her downward with one while the other rubbed a feeler between two fingers. She shivered at that; Jeril smiled and slowed down, taking his time as he dragged his fingers down the length of her antenna.

Jeril was in heaven. Her hard mouthparts bounced against his groin, dragging across his manhood as Kireza drew her head back from him. Inside of her mouth, however, it was soft and warm, and her small, slightly rough tongue constantly worked the underside of his shaft. She sucked on him as well, inundating her lover with pleasure.

It wasn't long before Jeril was tapping on the back of her head, a concerned expression on his face. She grabbed his hand and pushed it down, concentrating on making him feel good. He was insistent, and squeezed her hand as she pushed his away. Eventually she pushed him down onto his back. She sucked and licked and nibbled, and soon enough...

Jeril moaned, clenching his muscles and involuntarily thrusting his hips upward. He exploded in her mouth, shots of liquid pleasure arcing down through his body and out of his manhood. He had never finished in her mouth before, and he was overwhelmed with pleasure.

Kireza felt his seed splashing on her tongue. Bitter, salty, sour, and sticky, it filled every nook and cranny of her mouth. She pulled away from him, slurping so as not to let any juices fall on Jeril. She kept it in her mouth, not exactly savoring the flavor, a moment before swallowing, enjoying the soft, liquid heat as it made its way down her throat.

Jeril breathed heavily, staring at the sky for a moment before gesturing for Kireza to lay down beside him. She did so without hesitation, wrapping all four arms around him and nuzzling his neck. Jeril kissed her on the back of the head, just above her ocelli, and wrapped his arms around her in kind.

"Kireza," he said, "that was... Vecna's bony ass, that was incredible."

"You're welcome," she mumbled. She licked at his skin again to get the taste of his seed out of her mouth.

They laid together for a moment, alternately staring at the sky and into each other's eyes, basking in the warmth of Jeril's cantrip and just enjoying one another's presence. They laid there for a while, until Jeril suddenly sat up.

"What is it?" Kireza asked as she sat up as well. Had they been followed? Was there trouble? Did something--

Jeril shushed her, putting a finger to her mandibles. "Your next surprise is ready," he said, and nodded towards the horizon.

The sun was setting, casting a palette of pink and orange and purple across the sky, and bathing the buildings in the valley below in a soft, warm glow. The crumbling edifices seemed to burn in that light, casting an ambience all their own onto the surrounding vegetation.

Kireza was speechless. She stared for a moment, but slowly became aware of the fact that Jeril wasn't looking down at the valley. He was looking at her. She turned to return his gaze.

"Your eyes," he said. "They're... I can see the sunset, looking at you. They're practically glowing."

He slipped out of her grasp, taking a moment to put his pants back on before running over to his lute case. He cracked it open, drawing out a piece of scrap paper from the sheaf stuffed underneath his lute, and a small, thin piece of charcoal. He closed the case again and started scribbling like mad against it.

"Jeril, what are you doing?" she asked.

"Inspiration strikes," he said. He sat there for a few minutes, scribbling, looking back at her, looking at the valley down below, and back down to the paper. He hummed to himself as he wrote, the same tune from before. He stopped and started over a few times, scribbling some words out, writing new ones.

"What are you doing over there?" Kireza said.

"I'm almost done," he said.

"Done with what? Come back over here. Your spell's starting to fade and I'm getting cold."

"Like I said, I think I'm almost done," he said. "Keep your pants on."

"Why should I? You didn't."

"Har har," he said, grabbing a new piece of paper from the case and writing on it. He compared it to the old sheet, and wrote with a bit more control and elegance this time. Finally, he crumpled the old sheet and stuffed it back in the case. He looked at the new paper with its neater writing and nodded, satisfied, then folded it neatly and put it back in the case as well, along with the lute.

"Okay, all done," Jeril said, walking back over. He sat down next to her and wrapped an arm around her waist. "I'll have another surprise for you when we get back. You're starting to like those, right?"

"They're okay," she said.

"You're impossible to please."

"I am not."

"Are too."

"Am not. I can be pleased just fine."

"Is that so?" Jeril said, a grin spreading across his face.

"I'll prove it to you, then," she said, undoing the sash on her robe.

Jeril found her easy to please after all.

"I can't believe we stayed so late," Kireza said. It was dark now, and even colder than before. She had her cloak wrapped about her tightly, and pulled Jeril in close with a secondary. They walked down the path together, Jeril holding one of Kireza's handmade sunrods aloft with one hand. It was a crude one, just a wooden stick with a chunk of enchanted quartz on the end, but it was cheap to make and shone as bright as any "proper" one made of gold and iron, though it only lasted an hour.

It started burning out just as they came upon the campsite. They spotted their companions sitting around the fire eating what smelled to be some of Krashi's famous roast rabbit. The half-orc crouched by the fire, turning a spit which skewered several of the delicious little creatures, while everyone else sat around him eating the rabbits that were already done.

Jack stood up to greet them, wiping his hands off on his tunic. "Hey bro. Hey Kireza. How was the picnic?"

"Pretty good," Jeril said. "Went to that tower I told you about. Beautiful view. The sunset was gorgeous."

"It really was," Kireza said. "It was like the ruins were aflame."

"They were designed to do that," Zender said, sitting on the far side of the fire. "What you saw down in that valley was originally a resort town of the old elven empire. Every aspect of it was engineered for beauty."

"Well your old kinsmen did a bang-up job," Jeril said. "Thanks for telling me about that tower."

"Don't mention it," Zender said, pushing his specs up his nose. "Are you two hungry?"

"Picnic wasn't really much to speak of, and we worked up an appetite on the way back, so yeah, we could eat," Jeril said.

"Come on then. Don't throw out that sunrod, though, we can always re-enchant it."

Kireza took the spent sunrod and put it back into the wagon along with the remnants of their picnic. She sat down next to Elua and took a rabbit from Krashi, who grunted at her as he slid it off the spit and onto a wooden plate for her.

She looked over at Zender. "How far are we from those dwarven ruins Jeril told me about?"

"A week's travel or so," Zender said. "There will be scholars from all over gathering there."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Possibly ones with information about that temple of yours."

She tilted her head at him.

"I haven't forgotten, Kireza. It's not all profit, you know."

"Thank you," she said.

Jeril sat on the other side of the fire, lute in hand. He crossed one leg onto his knee and started plucking at the strings, tuning it.

"What you gonna play?" Jack asked, biting into another piece of rabbit.

"If you're taking requests, I have some suggestions," Elua said, a smile creasing her weathered cheeks.

"I'm not," Jeril said. "Got something new for you guys, actually. Felt a bit inspired looking at that sunset, and put some finishing touches on something I'd been working on for a while."

Kireza flicked an antennae in his direction as she nibbled on her rabbit. She cracked a bone and started crushing it between her mandibles, savoring the flavor of the marrow. So that was what he was working on.

Jeril cleared his throat. "I call it, 'The Sunset in Her Eyes.'" He strummed his lute, playing the tune he'd been humming earlier, and broke into song.

It was an ode to a lady, the object of the singer's affection. He praised her golden and bronze skin, her beautiful eyes, her quiet grace, her impressive intellect... Kireza felt her hearts swell as she figured out who the subject of the song actually was. A love song, written for her, being played for their companions? This was bold, even for Jeril. She tilted her head slightly this way and that, looking for any sign that they had figured it out. But they didn't seem to suspect a thing. By the end of it she felt as if her eyes were burning, and was certain the air was saturated with a palette of pheromones that were lost on her companions. They (except for Krashi) clapped for him, and he stood, taking a dramatic bow. She joined in the applause tentatively, not really knowing how to feel.

"Thank you, thank you," he said. "I've been working on that one for a while."

"Pretty good, little bro," Jack said. "Bet that will get you some attention from the ladies the next time we're in town."

"More than you get, that's for sure," Krashi said. "Human women seem to love that pansy crap."

"You didn't like it," Jeril said. "Big surprise."

"Don't like lutes. Like drums. And don't like that fancy poetic crap. Give me a good dirge or war chant over that any day."

"Dirges are for funerals. And war chants are for wars."

"Long as someone's dying," Krashi said, tearing the meat off a rabbit haunch in a single sloppy bite.

Jeril rolled his eyes. "Any other insightful commentary? Zender?"

"Good structure and cadence. Vivid imagery," Zender said. "Not much else I can point out."

"A+, Mr. Zender? Gosh, I hope so." Jeril looked around. "Come on, I need some feedback here. Elua?"

The old cleric smiled at him. "You captured the beauty of Pelor's daily descent well. You have a gift, Jeril."

"Thank you. Kireza?" Jeril looked across at her, a hopeful look on his face.

She stared back at him for a moment before responding. "It was... beautiful," she whispered. "Thank you... uh, for playing it. I liked it."

Jeril smiled. "Unanimous praise. Damn, I'm good."

"Unanimous?" Krashi said, sneering at him.

"Krashi doesn't count."

"Krashi doesn't have to give you any damn rabbit then."

"Fine, almost unanimous praise, minus one obligatory critic. Happy now?"

Krashi snorted, sliding the last rabbit onto a plate for him. "Your mouth's gonna get you in trouble one day, boy. Mark my words."

"Thank you, DAD," Jeril said. He grabbed the plate and dug in.

And that was that. Nobody else brought up the song again. No knowing looks, no uncomfortable questions, just business as usual. Kireza nibbled on her rabbit until it was gone, bones and all, and gladly accepted the bones from all of her clutchmates as well. She needed more calcium than the rest of them, after all.

Soon enough they were settling into their bedrolls, huddled close to the fire. Kireza threw more wood onto it, intent on tending it throughout the night, for light as much as warmth. She felt a tap on her shoulder, and twisted her head around to look behind her. Jeril stood there, holding out the poetry book they'd acquired in the last town to her. Something to keep her sane and occupied while the sleepers slept. She grabbed it with a secondary, letting the tips of her fingers touch Jeril's hand for a moment.

She looked into his eyes. "Thank you." The words came out softly.

A warm smile spread across Jeril's face. "Believe me, you're welcome," he said. "Good night."

And it was.