FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

You awaken to the smell of burning gas/oil. The faint crackling of blazing fire is just audible over the crashing sound of waves. Cracking your eyes open, you are at first met with a blinding light. After several moments, you open you eyes, now adjusted to the light. You find yourself hanging upside down, buckled into the passenger seat of a small, two person airplane. Groaning, you shift slightly, feeling a warm trickle running down your left arm. Looking at the dangling limb you spot a small, yet steady stream of blood running through the tan fur. It drips off the tip of your clawed fingers, forming a small puddle bellow.

Turning your head to the right, you see a small section of sandy beach out the little window. You can't see any water from where you are now but the crashing waves are ever present, so you know it's there. Turning to look to your left, you let out a painful gasp. Still strapped in his chair, just like you, was the pilot. A slim white and grey husky. The major difference between the two of you, other than him being a husky and you being a Labrador, was that he had a large, jagged chunk of metal stuck in his chest. The flow of blood was minimal due to the shards obstructing the flow; but even so, you knew helping him was not an option.

With your eyes locked onto the lifeless body next to you, you begin fumbling with the seat belt around your waist. The buckle clicks open, releasing you from the strap that suspended you. You are just able to brace yourself before falling out of the seat. Hitting the roof of the plane, which was now the floor, with a bang. The whole thing bounces and shifts with the force of your impact. A loud 'whooshing' sound follows right after. To your own horror, you find the cab of the plane quickly engulfed in flames. Yelling, you begin to crawl, a dull throb pulsing in your left arm. Tucking the arm in close to your chest, you manage to crawl out of the plane's window and out into the bright sunshine of the beach.

Several spots of the plane are on fire along with a few pieces of wood and metal thrown around the beach. You crawl a few feet away from the crashed plane and slowly try to calm your racing heart. Looking at your injured arm, you pull the short sleeve of your shirt up. Sticking up from the short fur there, you see a splinter of glass protruding from your bicep. Feeling your ears lay against your head, you let out a soft whimper. Knowing there's no getting around it, you grab hold of the glass shard and start to pull.

Yelling in pain, you feel the shard slowly pull free of your arm. A soft, slurping suction sound lost in the midst of your scream. Finally the jagged tip of the glass comes free, showing almost six inches had been buried inside you. Throwing the blood smeared glass away, you pull your shirt off and tear off a long strip from it. Wrapping the ripped cloth around the bleeding wound, you make sure to tie it as tight as you can without fully cutting off the blood flow. Once that is finished you pull the torn shirt back on, not wanting to leave to much of your body exposed to the blazing sun; being covered in fur could only protect you so much. Gathering your strength, you start to stand and take a look around your surroundings.

Now outside of the plane, you notice the beach stretches beyond what you can see. The vast, blue ocean reaching to the horizon with no break at all. Turning away from the ocean view, you look over at the wreckage of the plane. By now, the smell of burning fur and cooking meat is mixing with the smell of fire and burning oil. Trying not to think of exactly what the source of that smell was, you look away. Finally your eyes land on a thickly dense forest of trees. They reach well over 20 feet tall and were covered in dark green leaves. This made the area beyond look dark and foreboding. A small shiver runs up your back as the feeling of being watched rushes over you.

Gripping your bandaged arm, you see blood already seeping through the makeshift bandage. Eyeing the burning plane again, you vaguely remember seeing a first aid bag in the cock pit. There might be some better materials in there to fix your arm properly. But then again, do you really want to risk the fire? You could walk down the beach and hope to run into someone further along. However, you have no idea how big the place is. You could be on a remote island for all you know. Finally, you could go into the forest and hope to either find someone who lives further inland or at the very least find a high enough vantage point to get your bearings.

What do you do? 1) Brave the burning wreckage of the crashed plane? 2) Travel down the beach? 3) Head into the forest?