FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

It seemed to him he had waited this moment for ages.

Actually, it has only been years. Years of waiting patiently the time to go on his own adventure. As a little, shy wolf he grew up, and a mature, brave wolf he was now ; it was at least the sensation he had when he held his sword like this, firmly, pointed upward, in front of him. He could see it glitter with a hopeful light. The reflection of his white and bluish fur in the wind, crossed by the strip of leather of his bag, his tall stature crowned by his confident, canine face.

He got it from the blacksmith on the day of his great departure. This gift was "to thank you, Hiver, for all the good job you have done, for the village and its inhabitants", and, also, because of traditions. He took part in the creation of the weapon, and assisted the sharpening ; from the beginning to the end he had been involved in the preparations, as a rite of passage to his next itinerant life. The protective warm of the hearth was now blown away by the northern winds of the wild. The last things the wolf had of Firkshone Town were his memories - of his father and the farm, his mother and the inn, the blacksmith laugh, the priest teaching, the thatched roofs, and the serene everyday life.

Oh, he wouldn't complain about his youth. Helping everyone had been a good job, according to him. Listening to fairy tales, told by travelers who would stop at the inn, had made him grow up with a mind full of marvelous stories, about magic, fairies and dragons ; helping his father in the farm strengthened his body, and made him resourceful.

This said, those days had been long and dull. He had been frankly bored - the wolf just had oral legends and a few books of his house to escape from this reality. He could have easily left and go into the forest, play with friends in the great outside, or at least allow him walks, but, maybe because of a traditional fear of the unknown, especially of the monsters we can encounter in the woods or far in the plains, his life had remained focused around his little town, and hadn't been the most epic one of the whole continent history.

Anyway, even if he was afraid of what waited for him, it was enjoyable, he thought, to go outside and see the world. Well, from now on, the world offered him nothing but empty, random roads to follow, but it would come sooner or later.

Lost in these thoughts, he finally arrived in some place. A loveable board warned him : "Firkshone Town". He looked beyond, and saw a totally common village - it seemed to him this place had put all its loveable-ness into this board, and nothing left but the classical scheme of a village. Pine trees here and there, the earthy ground, the houses made of stones and wood, some smoke rising from the chimneys. He went forward and entered in the main street, which crossed the little town from one part to the other ; some furries, dressed in nothing but uninteresting peasants clothes, wandered around, smiled to each other, and, from wooden houses, happily welcomed these inhabitants to their shops. At least they seemed nice and simple, thought Hiver. He could try to ask for the inn, or for local news. He learned that shopkeepers, innkeepers, or any place-keeper with a noticeable quantity of people increased his chances to get his first quest.

Hiver entered in the first shop he saw ; the small bell at the door tinkled. He wore a polite smile and came to the counter, where the seller, a pig, was chatting with a fox. As the wolf was patiently waiting, the two animals, eventually noticing the newcomer, stopped their talking. The fox grabbed his bag of vegetables before getting out, without even considering Hiver ; the pig, on his side, grunted :

"What do you want ?"

Such reactions surprised the adventurer a bit, but he simply opened his mouth and asked, more or less kindly :

"Erm... Hi...! Can you tell me where the inn is ?" "I sell vegetables here. Not information."

"Nice and simple", huh ? A bit confused, the wolf just stared blankly to the pig and his crates full of cabbages, turnips, salads, not knowing what to answer. The discourteous seller, when he saw this foreigner buy nothing and make him waste his time, grunted in a more fierce way than before.

"If you don't want to buy me vegetables, then, go away. Plus, you're getting my floor dirty with your muddy paws." "...Okay then. Have a good day."

The pig didn't answer. Hiver turned around and walked away, got out of the shop, made the bell tinkle and came back in this not-loveable main street. He was wondering why these people were so unkind, when he noticed that these smiling furries in the village only smiled at each other, and didn't pay any attention to him. Was it his sword ? Anybody seemed to have any weapon around here, he could have a menacing look.

Hiver entered in different shops, knocked at several doors, tried to talk to some inhabitants, but it was useless. He would force them to notice him and would be quickly discredited, gazes looking down on him, even if those people were smaller than his healthy wolf stature. They would answer snobbishly and the older as the younger would sometimes insult him, from "under-evolved" to "stinky foreigner" or "dirty boor".

By chance, or maybe because the village wasn't big enough to be lost in it, Hiver came across a bigger building whose name wasn't important ; it was a random creature name, next to a random significant adjective, introduced by a bombastic "The". He obviously thought it was the town inn. The wolf entered, and found himself in front of a group of villagers, who immediately stared at him. Some stopped talking, and others kept chatting, in a lower tone. The adventurer adjusted his sword over his shoulder, and walked in further, up to the bar, the only place where he found someone who seemed to have some important role in this place. It was a kangaroo, wiping the long table. The wolf came closer and politely asked :

"Hello ! Excuse-me, are you in charge for the rooms, up there ?"

No answer. The wolf repeated louder, rising an eyebrow :

"You have rooms, I suppose ?" "Maybe," the kangaroo said without even looking at him. "But not for you."

Okay. That was not the sword. Clearly offended, Hiver crossed his arms, and, trying to master his anger, asked :

"Can we know why ?" "Listen, wolfy. To have a room here, you must be from around here, or at least be someone who's worth the room, get it ? What I see is that you're not from here, and that you're worth nothing."

This bloody kangaroo didn't even cease his wiping. The wolf gripped the pommel of his sword, and mastered the urge he was feeling to use it.

"How can you know I'm worth nothing ?" "Everybody can know that. It's almost written on your face."

There were some laughs among the furries behind them. The wolf tried to reply something but the kangaroo carried on :

"We don't want any stranger around here. Strangers bring problems, and that's the last thing we need." The rest of the animals silently agreed with these words. The barman went even further when he plugged his nose and complained excessively. "Plus, you're stinking. Had you ever heard of a bath ?"

"Yeah, you're right, Joe ! He clearly stinks !" "That always the same with strangers !"

This time, Hiver quickly found something to reply in a sarcastic and reproachful tone :

"I could have take a shower if someone had gave me a room. Plus," - he was bothered of all these "plus" those people were saying all the time - "Plus, I'm traveling : I can't bring a shower with me, I'm really sorry about that."

But Joe the kangaroo only took these words as an opportunity to rub it in.

"You see ? Even you are saying that a foreigner stinks. In all the meanings of the word, actually."

New peals of silly laughter. Okay, it was enough, thought Hiver. And committing murders won't solve the problem. So, once again, he turned around and walked away, heading towards the exit. However, as he reached the wooden door, a wooden chair creaked, some old paws pressed the wooden creaking floor, and an old voice creaked :

"Hold on, young adventurer !"

Hiver stopped. The disdainful laughs ceased. A silence. After a brief moment of surprise, the wolf smiled inwardly, confident. He was told that such a voice, such words and such an old animal could be nothing but the one who gives an important, dramatic quest. It was finally his time. The Occasion with a great "O". So, he turned back calmly, and saw an old hare, standing among the others, and pointing him with his shaking paw. "You ! You think you're worth something... ?" "Yeah. Totally." "Come closer, my boy, so that I can see you and speak to this world with full knowledge of the facts."

Hiver complied and walked proudly towards the old quavering hare. When the latter saw the former more or less clearly, he exclaimed :

"Oh ! Great Gods ! Will you be strong enough to accept our quest ?" "I'll do anything to prove to these people what I really am." "Perfect, perfect, perfect," repeated the old hare, nodding. "Then, let me told you the suffering of our village." The quavering furry took a sad, desperate look. "We have no wind anymore."

Such declaration can astonish, for good reasons.

" "No wind" ?" The wolf repeated. "What do you mean ?" "You see, we were used to have the most fresh, pure, healthy wind in the region. Thanks to it, the pollen of our flowers and cereals is gently spread over our fields. It makes flutter our beautiful trees. It makes our children strong, our old neighbors cheerful, and the breasts of our girls exuding generosity. As you can see, all the kind people you've met wouldn't be so welcoming if they hadn't grew up here." "But you're all fucking bastards," Hiver could have replied, but he kept quiet, and let the hare carry on. "But we have no wind, since that sad day, a week ago. Such phenomenon cannot be natural. The Elders had right, from the beginning. We have been fools. We have been blind by our too good kindness," he stated inexorably. "This terrible curse comes from..."

A pause. Suspense.

"...A dragon."

A pause. Exclamations.

"Oh," just thought Hiver, who, now, totally reconsidered the point of being worth something.

A great confusion took hold of the inn. Some cried, some complained, some screamed, some protested.

"How can you know that ?" someone shouted.

The mysterious old hare got out a mysterious old roll of paper from his mysterious old rags.

"It's written in the Ancient Writings," the old hare pointed out, holding the scroll. "When there is no wind, a Dragon is coming. Just right here." It was torn, written in curved letters, and covered in symbols with a magical potential. Hiver leant over the dusty document, and read it quickly. "It's also written : When there is too much wind, a Dragon is coming too." he remarked. "Shut up, young boy," retorted the old hare. "The Elders had spoke. Plus, I've seen a dragon, in the sky, above the forest, at dawn, today. I swear it." "He's a poor, old, mysterious, solitary furry ! He couldn't be a liar !" exclaimed someone. "It cannot be a coincidence." said a voice among the audience. "Oh, no ! A dragon ! We're all lost !" "Do you remember what one of those beasts had done to Lurkshare City ? "It was horrible ! People had had problems and everything !"

Everybody became agitated and afraid, and yet Hiver didn't said a word, looking perfectly calm. The old hare shouted :

"Shut up, all of you ! Have you not heard me ?" He turned towards Hiver. "This boy we'll save us !"

There was a moment of silence, during which the old furry wrote the quest, on another roll of paper which had came out of his rags and yet looked less old than the Elders'.

"Dear... Adventurer..." the hare quavered as his quill was shaking, "You... must... take... this... dragon... out..." He immediately looked at Hiver. "I mean killing, of course. But it's clearly for young readers I remain mysterious. No shocking allusion, with death and everything. But I can add "Of here", in "Take this dragon out of here", if you want. To avoid confusions. Yes, I think I'll add it. It'll be more clear. Yeah. No. Nevermind. It's done. Just sign. Please. Don't ask. You're gonna be a legend. Money, experience, glory, fans, books, painting adaptations, and stuff."

So the wolf took the quill, and signed, without asking anything else. He didn't want to fuck it up. But when Hiver had just finished to write his name, the hare leant forward, screwed up his eyes, and stared at the tall, mature, but still newcomer animal.

"Wait a minute," he said. "You're a wolf." "Erm... Yeah."

The hare's nose trembled.

"And your smell is not the pure, flowery one from our dear, lovely part of this monstrous world." "No, I'm not from here," affirmed the wolf, upset to find himself back as the subject of such insults. "Clearly, no." "...And you just signed." "Yes."

A pause. Scandal.

"Oh, dear, dear, dear ! What I have done ?!" shouted the old hare. "Did I have just give a quest to a dirty foreigner ?!" "Yeah, old idiot," retorted Joe. "That's why no one here had agreed your decision." "Oh no, oh no, what have I done, what have I done... ?! Couldn't you have warned me, silly boy ?! Nasty under-evolved !" he gave Hiver a little blow that only exasperated the wolf even more. "Oh, I miss the times when we had had the right to hang the people like you, perverted, nasty barbarians !"

Everybody in the inn nodded. One of them insulted the Declaration Of Animals Rights Of Flocksheen Town.

"Because of this," continued the old hare, "I shall retire forever in a dark place so I could repent. Goodbye everyone, sorry again, and good luck with that bloody curse." With these words, slowly, he left the inn, then the village, then the country, and a few minutes later, died of sorrow - but above all of natural causes. As far as Hiver was concerned, he was left alone with with roll of paper between the hands, and with all these frightened people, who only ordered to him to get out of here, since he was stinking and dirtying their loveable village.

******

The wolf quickly left Firkshone Town, we will easily guess why. But leaving the village meant keeping going on the same unique road, the one he had randomly choose at a random crossroads a week before - road which lead him, inevitably, to a forest. The forest, actually ; the one this old bastard told about. Where, according to him and his brilliant eyesight, there should be... A big legendary winged reptile. As for Hiver, this forest was not particularly threatening ; all wild place was the place of monsters, yes, but this forest didn't look more full-of-monsters than the others he got through. They had been, maybe, less great, less impressive that this one, which had quantity of pine trees, some heaps of remaining snow here and there, and a cold, windless weather - the joys of northern regions. Hiver didn't mind, he was accustomed to these travel conditions. But that feel... ? Nah, it was only the whole play these villagers had gave, he thought, their worries and their unloveable-ness and their making a fuss about any thing that can disturb their pretty, little, clean everyday lives. There was nothing to be concerned about. It was a calm, twittering, quite great, but absolutely not frightening forest, he kept thinking. What... beast like the one that was mentioned on this stupid roll of paper could have to do here ? Nothing. That's absurd, he concluded. Totally absurd. Ha ! Dragons. Fairytales. The wolf took a deep breath ; the cold stung his olfactory sense. It was a mess to being not able to smell any of the woods scents with such temperature. He looked around him, at this empty forest and these invisible singing birds, and continued walking on the woodland ground, twigs cracking under his feets. ... And, even if they actually existed, would he kill one of them ? He never saw a real one. Hiver knew what these western creatures looked like, but... If they existed, weren't they rare ? They were really big, powerful, awe-inspiring - not the little monster the neighbor's son had to deal with in his first quest. And how could they possibly be that mean ? Making the wind stop ? Making the wind blow ? What was the point ? ...Nah, definitely, nothing to be concerned about.

******

Then, all of the sudden, the wolf heard flapping sounds, up in the air, above the trees. It beat against the cold with a great force, and a large shadow passed above Hiver. He started, and swore. Shit ! That was not the plan ! (There was no plan de facto, but always one de jure - another lesson he had learn before going on his journey.) That must be adventurers that must come across monsters, not the other way round ! How could he have the upper hand in that situation, without having observed the movements of the creature, or having found a good occasion to attack ? What the hell did these people learnt to him ?! And then he quickly calmed down ; that wasn't the moment to care about educational matters. He rushed few steps away, tried to escape from the shadow, and found a large tree - it wasn't so difficult in those woods. So he promptly jumped behind, and waited ; he couldn't run further, the flying creature was coming, breaking some branches in his approach to the ground. This being was near enough so that the white wolf could have been noticed if he made a noise.

The great beast landed heavily. It made the ground quake a bit, and the northern trees trembled. Hiver, feeling himself brave, glanced at the thing that came from the sky. He saw a big, tall, four-legged, winged reptile - of a size so impressive that he couldn't really tell how great it was, snout to tail. A house ? Two houses ? Its scale were of a silver black (or a dark grey, he couldn't tell exactly), and of a mat red from his lower jaw to his bottom and some inches on the underside of his thick tail, with rather long neck and caudal appendix, claws, and that elongated maw of a voracious saurian... Wow, what a bulk. Great Gods, he was a damn monster. And with Hiver's knowledge of legends, there was no doubt ; that was a damn dragon. So, surprised, if not a bit afraid, the wolf hid himself behind his trunk. His breathing intensified ; he wondered if he clearly saw what just landed - he was talking about a dragon, after all. A fucking Dragon. In front of him, for real, in flesh and bone - all that realization remarks illuminated Hiver's mind, and we'll pass through, because that lasted barely a second, and because we were all expecting that. Even the wolf was expecting a dragon, intimately, but a real freaking sensual confirmation was better than a vague fear of a childhood illusion.

Some quick, stumbling stomps from the beast made the wolf risk an eye again and listen carefully. He wanted to observe the living legend, whatever it cost.

This living legend was actually groaning, and walked on three paws as one of his fore leg was lifted up under his fat belly, as he was holding it. His big gut was gurgling ; the great size of the dragon's body made every sound or act more perceptible or more noticeable. But the dragon was, in truth, in this state for a moment. The natural urge came to him during his flight, and he had landed in a hurry ; his grunts were not covered anymore by the sound if his wings against the atmosphere and the trees, but they slightly covered the crackles of the wood sticks and bushes he crushed under his massive weight. The dragon only made few steps in this fashion, then stopped : he raised his long, thick tail, exposing his red, hot cloaca to the semi-frozen forest, much to Hiver's amazement. The legendary reptile lowered his head, and, his eyes half-shut, his maw clenched, he slowly leant forward. A very deep, rumbling sound was emitted from his bulky behind, and lasted ten full seconds. As the tuba noise came to an end, Hiver felt a hot wave of a never-smelt-before stench blow his muzzle's fur. Our wolf, who was already surprised by the sudden presence of the being, fell in a complete, silent stupefaction when he understood the dragon had just released a loud fart, and remained still, despite the pungency of the gas that would at least make a town people complain and leave the place immediately. The gassy expulsion warmed up the area, and was powerful enough to contrast abruptly with the cold, odorless climate. Some birds flew away, some who stayed for mysterious and abnormal reasons sang more quietly, as if the vile sound and the rotten odor had muffled them ; Hiver distinguished, in the far background, a wild deer escape to the depths of the woods, afraid by the flatulence. When he caught the smell of his relief, the dragon sighed ; he seemed to have waited a long time for this moment of pleasure. But that was only the first shot, and now that his surroundings were warned, the reptile and his still-groaning stomach could move freely to the next step.

The dragon loosened his sphincter. A vibrating flatulence was unleashed, the farting sound resonating in the forest ; the sweet, innocent woods twittering died completely, making place to the crude, deep-toned booming. As we said before, the dragon was huge, compared to our simple wolf, and meaning that "all his sounds and acts were more perceptible, noticeable" also worth for his odors and other natural emissions ; so the reeking gust that loudly flew out of his anus was unusual for the tranquil world of this forest or anything of the wolf's size. Thus his powerful, acrid back wind, reeking the rotting carcass among other foul digested things, blew the frozen-dry bushes ; its heat melt some of the ice on the ground and, coming from a beast at least as tall as a house, it even blew lower pine tree branches. A thick, nasty fume of warm stink was spread all around, and birds fell down of the trees, or tried to flee from the stench. The flatus acted like a true repellant to the ecosystem, if not a knocking-out gas for beings whose sense of smell and breathing system wouldn't bear it.

The dragon passed gas once again, but it promptly ended in a wet tone. Hiver saw the reptile lower his butt, somehow squatting, and, putting his neck back up and lifting his head up, he grunted. His cloaca opened in a faint crackle... The next second, a dark brown, compact piece of scat slowly loomed out of his colon ; but it got stuck when it came to the scaly rectum. As the feces, because of the size of the log, wouldn't make their way out, the Dragon forced his bowels movements. He pushed out a loud flatulence, which came on the side of the ball of scat ; bubbling against his fecal matter, it made a filthy, viscous sound. The scaly beast pushed out an other poot, more high-pitched, which finished in a very soaked squeak ; under his muscles pressure, his plugged bowels were making his anus leaking liquid shit around his tailhole, and small brown drops of it ran along his ass to fall upon a hip of white snow. Both of those farts coming out through scat gave an air even stinkier, carrying to the forest, the atmosphere and the wolf's nostrils the strong scent of rich, hot dung. Gods know how many fecal odors Hiver had smelt in his life while helping his father at the farm, but the dragon's had a terrible, musky, unheard-of, or rather a unsmelt-of, potential. And the reptile's bowels kept on gurgling, discontented about being so full and unable to let loose.

"...Gnnngnhh... Come on...!" the dragon suddenly muttered, in the middle of his effort.

"...Did he just speak ?" thought Hiver, who never learnt as much as this day.

But the wolf had no time to think about it ; the slimy, shitty lube combined to the scaly male's efforts let free the fecal blockage, which got his return to earth in a squelching noise as the dragon's rectum squeezed it out. The large ball of scat splattered on the ground, completely covering that hip of snow ; the reptile's lower intestines thus unplugged, a sudden shart exploded. The defecation came fiercely, detonating in numerous bubbles of dragon shit loaded with potent flatus ; the great beast moaned as his foul blasts were sputtering out of his bulging anus. The flow of putrid waste scattered his red and black rump, the forest ground and the bushes around with sticky drops of fecal matter. The wolf wasn't sure if it was the stench or the force of the gusts, but some thorns of pine trees were falling off now, upon the knocked-out birds. After five seconds of intense, steamy pouring, it stopped abruptly, and then, more softly, a crackling sound was heard. Hiver, who was always gazing at the scaly, great beast's shitty rectum, saw it expand once more : a colossal log of dung came out, and was forced out with a small grunt. From this moment on, the dump was taken quietly, though in notable quantity ; pieces of feces snaked out like a putrid paste, and fell one after the other. The dragon's gut looked finally less distended and maybe less fat, and was definitely less noisy.

His big duty accomplished, the black dragon sighed and seemed content ; his innards-heated, dark pile of dung laying behind him, twice big a Hiver, was fuming in the cold. This great relief significantly altered the landing area ; the reptile's effluvia were now infecting the whole place. The heavy, moist, spicy stench of dragon gas hovered in this part of the forest, and the acrid foulness of his waste could be distinguished by some expert that wouldn't had run away but who, like our wolf, would just stand still behind a tree, amazed and a bit frightened, his sight, hearing, and above all sense of smell in full activity.

The dragon looked behind him, wanting to see how much he had let out, but that was so unexpected that Hiver didn't had time to get back behind his tree. The wolf barely understood that he was seen by the topaz look of the winged reptile that the latter stomped fast towards the former ; Hiver made a few steps backwards, but he was quickly hurled down on his back, flattened with one great draconic paw. The tall, bulky beast roared at him.

"Not so fast, my little friend !"

The blow, the dragon's weight, his odors and the situation left Hiver speechless. The beast had a surreptitious glance at the sword of the adventurer whose build, according to the dragon, could be nothing but the one of an experienced adventurer. So he carried on roaring :

"What were you doing ?! Trying to kill me ?!"

The canine desperately attempted to pronounce a single word, face to face with this impressive dragon's head. The humid, warm breath of the beast, whose buccal hygiene was the least of his concerns, brushed past the wolf's face, but after what Hiver had just lived, a bad breath case was quite tolerable. But the wolf remained stupefied, and stammered something incomprehensible. The dragon, keeping its intimidating acting, casually left a hind leg, and let a small poot escape. But, as he saw the large beast do so and heard the trumpeting sound, the wolf strangely got hard. He didn't know why ; this apparition, this massive, scaly, fabled male, this smelly relief, this contact, the somewhat magical, outstanding thing he was living ; he didn't know, he just got hard. His erection grew against the dragon's paw ; however, the reptile didn't seem to notice it : he was still holding to ground the furry to his mercy. Another fresh scent of a rotten fart surrounded them as the rumbling noise died, and the wolf whined, but for his part, it could have been a moan of a new pleasure.

"So what, furry ?" asked the burly reptile. "Will you answer or shall I finish you off ?" "No-no-no-no," the wolf quavered.

He gulped, cleared his throat, and answered quickly.

"Wait, Dragon ! I didn't want to harm you in any way !"

The mighty creature raised a scaly eyebrow.

"So ? What were you doing by ? ...If you weren't behind me for mean reasons ?" "I was just in the forest," declared the wolf, "roaming around, when you landed to... Erm, you know, to do what you've done, and..." "What ? Taking a dump ?" "...Yeah." A gap. Hiver had stopped, and the dragon was waiting eagerly. "And so ? Don't stop !" he roared. "And, so, you've found me," Hiver replied.

The unconvinced dragon glared at the candid wolf.

"You know that I'm giving you the chance to speak a few words before your death, right ?"he growled. "Erm, yeah." "It would be silly to waste such a chance and waste my time with foolish explanations."

The wolf defended himself bravely, calmly.

"What "foolish explanations" ? I'm saying the truth." "It doesn't make sense," retorted the dragon. "I landed a few minutes. You had plenty of time to run away. With all the noise I made, you could have escaped without any problem - apart from the fact I didn't chase after food while I take a shit, but I guess you didn't knew that."

The winged scaly had a good point. Why did he stood here ? The hiding place was a plan B, but the wolf clearly could have fled if he had wanted, instead of staying here and gazing at this dragon rump. So, after a moment of thinking, Hiver answered by another question :

"Well, why should I had to run away ?" "I don't know," the dragon answered back. "I'm not into your people society. Every time someone saw me, it was to attack me or to run away. Therefore, if you didn't want to kill me, you should have to act in the second way." "Or I could have just stayed here... ?" "But what for ?"

Hiver shrugged.

"I don't know. Do need I a reason to walk in the forest and to not run away when a dragon just landed due to his bowels issues ?"

Now that was the turn of the beast to be speechless. After a brief silence, he replied :

"I never encountered a furry of yours who had acted like this before, so I..." "It didn't mean furries like me doesn't exist."

Eventually, the dragon summarized :

"You're telling me you were walking in this forest without any purpose ?" "Erm, yeah", nodded Hiver, before adding : "At least, I swear I never wanted to kill you."

These words weren't rightly chosen.

"How that, "at least" ?! WHAT WERE YOU DOING ?!" roared the black beast, even louder. "ANSWER ME QUICKLY ! I HATE WASTING TIME WITH MY FOOD !" "I-I was on a quest, okay ?!" answered Hiver rather angrily. "Don't roar this way, you're scaring the pants off me !"

The wolf wouldn't give up against a dragon only because he found him impressive and great and amazing and everything. This said, with one of his claw of his other big paw, the dragon ripped Hiver's bag, who was lying on the ground. A scroll of paper rolled out. The one about the quest. Cautiously, the winged reptile opened it despite the size of his paw ; such skill impressed the wolf, who didn't expect the buff beast to act in this way. Although it meant that he would be dead - if the dragon knew how to read.

"Are you fucking kidding me ?! You probably think I am not able to read ?!"

Fuck.

"For Gods' sake ! I told you I didn't want to kill you !" shouted Hiver in spite of everything. "I never saw a dragon before, then you landed, and, and... I just looked at you ; that´s all." "You were just looking at me ?" "Yeah." "Because you had never saw a Dragon before ?" "Yeah."

A pause.

"I found you impressive, so yeah, I stayed," precised the wolf, while his subconscious blushed.

He didn't know why he told that ; maybe it was to justify the horny member he had under his thighs. He sincerely hoped the dragon didn't find it out. But he didn't seemed to, and carried on talking.

"But what about the tales, the mighty beasts we are in legends ? It's true, you know." "Yeah. I'm sure. But... Well ; you are legends, as you said, so it remains quite impressive to meet you."

Another pause. And the dragon didn't eat him. Though Hiver was brave, being flattened by a smelly dragon while having an erection was new for him ; he couldn't bare this awkward situation any longer, so he asked :

"Can I go now ?" "NO !" was the sharp answer. "Okay, okay !" "WHO SENT YOU ?!" roared the reptile, glancing at the quest. "People from Firkshone Town, a village, next to the forest," acknowledged Hiver. "But what for..." "I AM THE DRAGON HERE ! I ASK WHATEVER I WANT !" "Okay, okay !" shouted Hiver. "But stop shouting just in front of me, pleas-"

Suddenly, a squishy but rather short fart escaped from the dragon's butt ; his tail went done, and the stench got them quickly, once again. The wolf couldn't help but groan loudly, desperately trying to hide his strange feelings and the embarrassment it had to his situation : "Oh, great !" "What ?!" "Huh-Nothing !" answered the wolf, abashed. "There's nothing !"

But the dragon wanted a clear answer.

"Don't lie to me ! You've just said something after I farted !" "COULD WE JUST STOP TALKING ABOUT THAT, PLEASE ?!" "OH ! SO HERE'S THE PROBLEM !" "Okay, this whole scene is getting ridiculous", Hiver said, fed up with all of this. "Please, Dragon, get your paw off me. I beg your pardon for all I could have done to you and for all you would find offensive. I'm really, really sorry, and I swear again I never wanted to kill a dragon in my entire life. That's the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Can I go now ?"

A brief pause, and, much to Hiver surprise, the dragon accepted his explanations.

"Hm. You seem honest."

Ha ! Victory ! The wolf would at last be able to-

"BUT !" shouted the dragon. "What, again ?" the adventurer failed to reply, but only said instead "What ?". "I caught you watching me, moreover with a hunting quest on you," the beast reminded Hiver of their previous words. "You had to do me a favor if you want to leave alive." "A favor ?"

Hiver was septic, but the dragon shrugged.

"If you want to die now, your can refuse." "Okay, I get the point. What shall I do exactly ?"

The winged reptile went on some short explanations, with a condescending air.

"You see, I found absolutely terrible that some villagers wanted to send a foreigner do the dirty work for them. Yes, I know you're a foreigner. You smell like one - let alone an inch of dragon flatulence, but that's my concern. Then, not only these villagers should pay for this, but they also should pay for all those people who thought that killing a dragon could be the aim of a quest, for quest's sake. Okay, I could have eaten a few of their cows, or sheep, but hey, it's the way it goes. I need to find food, me too. And I also don't find those people very welcoming. And, above all, I'm a dragon, I don't need reasons to do something, hm ? Oh, and don't forget you promised me to do what I'll ask you to do. Therefore, technically, no matter my reasons."

He finally came to the demand.

"I want you to go back into that Firkshone Town of yours, and ask to those people to gave me all the food they have. Fresh meat from their livestock. I'm good : I don't ask them any of their conscious live ;, in other words, no inhabitant. The more my stomach will be satisfied, the less they will have to fear my wrath. And as for you, to be part of the feast." " "All the food they have" ? You are omnivorous ?"

The dragon glared one again at Hiver, with a grin.

"I told you that I do what I want. Food included. Don't be afraid about the quantity, their would never be enough to my draconic belly," he affirmed as he patted his massive stomach. "Therefore, I love devouring things that I never ate before ; discovering things make me feel even more powerful. Even if it makes me end with bowel issues," he remarked, somehow proudly, before looking at his fuming pile of dung. "But I enjoy it when there are living beings around to hear and smell that. It also makes me feel powerful, to see everyone react and run away just because I pass gas or take a shit. In fact, being proud of everything we do, it's our way of living, we dragons," the beast concluded, swaggering about. "So, let's back to our business," he said. "Firkshone Town. All the food. Don't be afraid of being innovative. Impress me. I let you one day, from now."

He got his paw off of Hiver.

"Time to tell to your furry fellows that's a dragon is coming," he grinned.

With these words, the black beast stretched out his wings, beat the air, and flew skywards. After he was completely gone, Hiver slowly got up, and didn't know what to think. Once again this day, he was left alone with a quest involving the destiny of a living being. If not a whole village now.