FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Windtail smirked. Even with his tongue lolling out in a pant and his usually grey coat, now brown from mud dirt, the wolf still smiled. He held onto a piece of rusted iron bar that jutted out of a mossy mound, his fluffy tail wagging behind him as he peered down into the ill-lit cave.

The sight before him did not look like much. It could easily be mistaken for a cave in a hill, but Windtail knew better. The iron he was holding, rusted and weathered, was a telltale sign of a ruin. A ruin of a civilization long gone.

Windtail took a deep breath. His thin bare chest rose and fell before he wrapped his muzzle in a cloth to protect himself against the dust and whatever danger lurks in the ruins. Many less cautious pack members had returned from their expeditions ill. There was something in the ruins that caused it. Laboured sharp breathing and weakness. But there were worse things, too.

Unlike those unfortunate souls, Windtail was always the cautionary one. Wrapping his hands and feet in leather strips and cloth to protect them from the environment. He wore little else in the way of clothing, exposing most of his lithe yet well-toned frame. A mere leather loincloth to hide his modesty and a bandolier to carry food and tools were all he needed in addition. Though he decorated his wrists with leather bracelets.

His neck too had a leather necklace, a piece of brownish translucent rock hanging from it, an amulet. His only true pride and joy, his long fluffy tail that lent him his name stood firm and at attention.

My body is tired. If the rest of the pack saw me now they'll laugh. Windtail thought to himself as he gingerly stepped a toe into the mossy and sloped entrance of the cave.

Jeering, mocking. How can a wolf get tired from so little they'll say. Anyone would be tired if they went through what I went through!

Windtail sighed and looked down, out of shame. There was resentment in his eyes.

Maybe this will show them!

The entrance was small but the wolf could fit then, just about. He may be smaller than a lot of the other wolves, scrawny even. Something that Windtail himself sneered at.

The gods were never merciful with me.

Windtail manoeuvred his small frame into the hole to a slight drop. Windtail's eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly prepared himself for the landing, his leather-covered paws softly touching the smooth rock floor.

But perhaps now I would be blessed.

The wolf stood up and brought the rock he had around his neck to his muzzle and whispered a small prayer before turning his muzzle up to look at his surroundings. The cave was dark, but not completely so. He could see that it was not too tall. The inside was cramped with straight yet broken walls, and the floors were strewn with wreckage. The wolf removed his scarf to smell his surroundings. It was dusty, old, mouldy. The air was stuffy. Windtail then re-wrapped the scarf more tightly than before. It might be safe to breathe, but he was not taking chances.

Windtail took a cautious step, feeling the fine moss over the smooth floor. He was going to have to be careful, he could lose his balance easily. The wolf pulled a tool out of his bag, a battered metal tube. He held it to his muzzle and said another prayer before unscrewing the lid and taking out a shining tube of pure light, immediately illuminating the cave with a bright white light.

He drew his attention to the walls of the cave. They stood perfectly straight with no bends or bumps. Though some have cracked and fell onto the floor. He walked with careful and quiet footsteps as he looked at them more carefully. He ran his gloved paw on them, feeling as much as he could at the remarkable smoothness of them, except for the perfectly straight seam at the same distance as each other. Windtail had seen them before.

This was a ruin of the gods alright, I was right!

Underneath the rough scarf, Windtail had a wide smile. He heard rumours of another ruin, still not ransacked by the other tribes, or worse, another pack.

Gods, please let me return to the pack with pride_ _

He thought to himself as he returned to continue down the cave. Moss and fungi had grown in the cave, but there was little else for rubble. Occasionally they were pathways that diverged sideways to a smaller cavern, often blocked by a thin pane of smooth shiny metal very different from iron he was used to. It was a door. The wolf made simple work of clearing forcing the doors open and made a thorough search of the rooms, but there was little to be found. Mostly more smooth and shiny metal in the shape of blocks and what Windtail thought looked like white or grey pottery. Clear rock was scattered over the ground, another remnant of the gods but one that was common.None one else in the pack would pay attention to it.

He needed to find something special. The wolf continued searching in the cave; the air getting thicker, almost muskier. It was risky for him to delve any deeper, but he had to leave with something. He kept walking further and further into the abyss, his tube of light his only company. The cave seemed to go on forever, and Windtail felt frustrated. Then he saw something at the end of the cage, a light, natural light. Windtail ran, ignoring the offshoots to the side. The wolf was close to giving up but had renewed vigour when he came across the same metal that blocked the other entrances. Though it was far larger, taking the entire width of the cave and but most upsetting, they were already pushed open.

Could it be that someone already raided the place?

Windtail raised his hackles and snarled. “It can't be!" He shouted out, quickly trotting over the broken barriers only to stop before an open drop. Saved by what seemed like a metal railing. It was then Windtail looked up, his eyes widening in awe.

The wolf had found himself in a massive cavern, far larger than the “cave" he was in. He clasped his paws against the metal bars of the rails, gazing up and down in amazement. Beyond the railings was an open space that took up most of the cavern, the path he would call it hugged tightly against the walls taking up little of the space. There wasn't just one either. Windtail traced the railings, and he saw that there were layers both above and below him.

Two more layers of the railings were below and another seven above that ended before the cavern's most impressive feature, the roof.. It wasn't open, there was a panel or layer of some sort as Windtail could see what he thought were cracked and holes that opened to the world outside, but sunlight passed through the entire thing. It was like the clear rock he saw, only like the cavern, much larger. The ceiling provided light to the cavern though dim.

Windtail leaned against the railing to see what was at the bottom of the open space. It was hard to make out but the entire floor was scattered with wreckage. He's eyes darted around, desperately trying to find anything interesting among the dark mess, but there was very little outside more metals and stone rubbles.

Gods, why have you failed me once more...

Windtail was about to turn around in defeat when a glimmer caught his eyes. It was barely noticeable, but the wolf's ears immediately perked up, his tail wagging and his muzzle pointed straight at it. It was at the far corner, on top of a pile of rubble. The wolf frantically looked for a path that would go downwards to the floor, spotting a section of the path that collapsed to the one below. He ran, his tail flying high and free as he made his way down the path only to stumble along the rocky slope.

It was of little consequence to the wolf as he stood up, not caring for the gash on his right arm, and returned to find another path downwards. He paced around, finding a hole in the path that drops, but it was just that. A hole that drops with a pile of debris beneath. Windtail stood over the edge and held his breath and jumped.

“Argh!" He cried out as he landed as his legs met the jagged pile. Windtail crawled to the railings, trying to figure where he was hurt. It was only then he felt the wetness of blood from his arm.

“Fuck!"

Windtail unwrapped the scarf from his nose, a strong musky and acrid smell filled his nostrils. It was dangerous to inhale such air, but he was at risk of bleeding out. He closed his eyes and felt himself paying close attention to his legs to look for any signs of injuries. Windtail breathed a sigh of relief that the cut on his arms was the only injury he got. He quickly tied the scarf around his arms and stood up, seeking a way to the last layer below.

He ran on the path, desperately searching for a way below that didn't involve him going through the metal doors. He ran and ran, eyes going everywhere. When he came across where he fell, mouth openly panting, his arm shooting sharp pains throughout his body, he stopped and whined in frustration.

How do I get down!?

Windtail leaned against the railing where his blood was drying up. There was only one way down now. A voice in his head told him to just give up, find a way back up and out before whatever in the air would kill him or the wound would get worse. Yet that glimmering thing right across the open expanse was beckoning to him. Windtail looked over to the bottom. The floor was the same smooth rock as everywhere else, and there were no other piles or metal ruins within reach. The drop was further down too.

Was he really going to risk it? Was he that desperate to prove something to his pack? Windtail climbed atop the railing and closed his eyes, preparing himself for the landing. He was.

When Windtail opened his eyes, the piles of rubble and metal were in front of him. He felt a familiar posture, the same as he did when he climbed into the cave. The wolf slowly stood up, tail wagging slightly as he breathed deeply. He managed it with no trouble or injuries.

He wanted to bring his charm and kiss it, but before his hands could grab it, a thought crossed his mind, another part wanted to curse it. The gods haven't been in his favour since birth. Why would they be now? He unclenched his fists and stood. That glimmer was nearby.

Windtail wanted to run to it and climb the mound it was on but something, an instinct told him to be cautious. He had slow steps with all his senses on high alert. Even if there was no sign of a trap, there could be right? The gods were crafty, that's why those who return from the pale lands with riches never came back alive. The gods didn't want their tombs and ruins to be disturbed.

The wolf got closer and closer to the glimmer, seeing that it was perched on top of a blocky tower of steel. It danced with rays of lights and pretty colors. It must be worth a fortune. Finally, Windtail might bring something of importance to his pack.

As he got closer Windtail could see that the block the glimmering item was on, overlooked a massive chasm where the floor collapsed further down. Unlike the view Windtail had when he came in, there wasn't a visible bottom to the pit.

The wolf held a deep breath and held the amulet to his muzzle, saying another prayer, before he made his way up on metal blocks that the item was on top. Windtail could feel that the metal was weak beneath his paws and one wrong move could spell the end. Slowly he climbed up, the leather on his toes providing extra leverage. If he was any larger, or heavier, the tower would collapse immediately.

For once I've been blessed!

As Windtail moved higher up the structure started to creak and groan. He was so close, just a bit more, he could just about make out the object. Windtail didn't know what it was but he knew it was worth something, and it was just about arms reach. If he could just find another ledge to put his toes on then maybe…

There was a loud groan as Windtail and the tower crashing down. Windtail watched as his prize fell into the abyss below, disappearing below.

“Fuck!"

Windtail jumped off the tower, landing on the hard surface with his back as he watched the thing he came for, now gone. The wolf held onto a piece of debris to get himself up and began walking. Windtail walked a few steps before he grabbed the amulet and pulled it off his necklace. He stared at it with tear-stained eyes.

Why?

Windtail threw it into the black abyss before collapsing onto the floor, sobbing loudly into his arms.

There were sounds of celebrations, laughter and howling as Windtail walked back to the pack's village. He hung his head low and his tail tucked between his legs as he walked past the tribe's sentries who looked at him with a derision. He had returned once again, empty-handed as ever. As he walked back to his tent, in a far corner of the village, he passed by the village center, seeing Ironfang howling and drinking cheerfully as the pack alphas looked in joy. There was a festive air at the center as the seniors and upper echelons of the packed bolstered and celebrated. Windtail was about to turn and leave before he heard a shout that sent shivers.

“Windtail, get over here!" Came a distinctive deep growl that could only belong to one person. The patriarch.

Windtail sighed and stood still.

Please… just let me go this one time

“Windtail!"

“Yes!... father" Windtail bemoaned, walking through the parting crowd of other wolves to the alpha's corner. Through the flames, smoke and crowd, he saw the patriarch and matriarch, his parents.

His father was grizzled, old yet on his scarred black furred body, his muscles still showed through. His blue eyes wise as ever. It was clear the Ironfang was his son. Like all the other wolves, he wore little else from a loincloth and a few leather decorations, though from his neck hung a necklace of a rainbow of colours. Some sparkle, some clear, some dull. All were remnants of the gods.

He kneeled towards his father but kept his eyes sideways, staring down at his brother who had a smirk and his arms crossed.

The loud rambunctious festivities were now quiet. Only the flicker of the flames and the breathing of the pack were heard.

“You return empty-handed once more, Windtail." Came the boom of the patriarch. “Another wasted trip." Windtail kept silent and his head hung in shame.

“Indeed, father!" Shouted Ironfang who walked closer “Time and time again, Windtail, has shown that he's incapable. As a pack leader or even a hunter." Ironfang crouched down next to Windtail. The smaller wolf could feel Ironfang's breathing on his ears.

“Perhaps he's more suited as an omega." Ironfang whispered, “The hunting camp could use another tail raising bi--"

In one fell swoop, Windtail's fist met Ironfang's maw, causing him to stumble back. Windtail snarled but was quickly met by Ironfang's own snarling as the two were literally head to head, teeth baring in front of each other.

“I swear I would…"

“You would what!? Attack me! Kill me! You can't even--"

“ENOUGH!" The matriarch, their mother shouted. The two lowered their hackles and turned to face her.

Windtail couldn't stand to look into her eyes, the same piercing eyes that hid great intelligence much like Ironfang had, only green. She had the same squarish face and brown fur as Ironfang. She was indeed Ironfang's mother.

“This is not the place for fighting! I won't have my sons spill blood right here and now!" She scolded.

“One of your sons at least" Windtail muttered under his breath.

Both of the alphas glared at him but said nothing. There was an uneasy silence until Ironfang spoke up.

“The pack has limited resources, especially so for artifact hunting. I'm merely suggesting that Windtail is better suited in other positions."

Windtail snarled but quickly turned to the alphas.

“I can prove my worth! I can prove that I can be more to this pack than a mere…"

“A mere what?" the matriarch asked with a tone of concern.

“A mere runt…"

Silence, again.

“You may not be of our blood, but you're still a member of the pack." Came a fatherly tone from the patriarch.

Windtail almost hung his mouth in surprise. It was rare to hear anything like that from him of all wolves.

“But your brother is right. You were sent on countless expeditions and returned with nothing. You haven't proved your prowess with the warrior camps nor your intelligence in the main camp itself." the patriarch spoke in his stern, authoritative tone. Windtail could do little but clench his fists at the damaging words.

“You spend almost all your time on this fruitless endeavor," The patriarch continued “wasting precious resources when you could be more useful around the camp instead. You may not lead this pack like Ironfang would or found another pack like your other brothers."

“I can do it! I can prove that I'm worthy of my own!" Windtail shouted.

“Can you?!" came another voice, another gruff wolf who stood beside the matriarch, a beta, his uncle.

“You showed no leadership or any skills whatsoever, you have proven nothing worthy of this pack!"

“Then I'll leave and find my own!"

“And who would join you?" The uncle asked.

Windtail looked around the crowd. All stared at him with derision, pity and shame.

“The expeditions, the hunt for artifacts is an initiation, a proof of your worth. You have failed at every chance you had. You bring worthless junk instead of anything useful, " the patriarch spoke.

“Then I shall go beyond pale lands, the hunters who've returned from there brought many interesting artifacts, where they tell are great forests of iron towers and--"

“And any that returned died within two nights!" The matriarch shouted. “You may not lead, but we don't want you dead!"

“A dead pack member is of no use to us." the patriarch said, shaking his head.

There were murmurs of agreement and nods.

“Then.. a position of--"

“Enough! Tomorrow morning we'll find a position more suited for you. Even if it's a camp bitch as your brother so… thoughtfully said." the patriarch spoke.

“No...please! One last chance! Please!"

A paw touched his shoulder, Windtail turned and saw it belonged to his brother. He looked up with tear-stained eyes to see that Ironfang no longer had his cocky grin on his face. Instead, it was one of almost… sympathy? From his brother?

“It's over, Windtail." Came a soft tone. “Give it up." Ironfang leaned down and whispered in his ear. “I only brought up being a camp bitch because I know you'll like it." There was no snarl or anger from Windtail as he buried his muzzle into his brother's deep fur. His masculine scent was overwhelming and he could feel blood rushing to his cock as his sheath became tighter. Perhaps being a camp bitch won't be so bad?

No! That was not his fate! He was going to prove himself!

Windtail pushed his brother away and rushed from the center.

“Where are you going, Windtail!" Shouted the patriarch.

Windtail did not answer. Instead, he ran. He heard no one follow him or any more shouting. He knew they knew where he was going. There was only one wolf who he sought now.

The hut of the shaman was in a remote part of the camp, almost outside the camp itself. It was one of the largest buildings in the camp, appearing more so as it stood alone with only a small path to the entrance. There were many unusual things surrounding the place, but Windtail had no attention to pay to them. He went straight to the entrance and rushed in with a fury.

The building itself though large was cramped and smelled strangely sweet. It was filled to the brim with a variety of artifacts and other objects Windtail didn't dare try to understand and definitely not now as he quickly and carefully made his way to where the shaman was usually found working.

As expected, the white wolf was there at his table, hard at work, on the artifact Ironfang found. Windtail felt a surge of anger build in at the sight, but he composed himself before bowing to the shaman. Before Windtail could even speak, the old wolf held a finger up.

Windtail had a good look at the wolf. The shaman was by far the oldest member of the pack. He was small and his messy, thin fur. Unlike everyone else in the pack, the shaman wore a bit more. He had a shiny covering over his body that Windtail could tell was once white but has since become dirtied and muddied. His paws were covered by what looked to be a similar material, only black instead.

Like other pack members he had artifacts hanging from his neck, only his were only the same. Rectangles that were colorful and played with the light whenever he moved. To add to the unusual things the shaman wore, two clear rock orbs sat in front of his grey eyes.

“Shaman I--"

“Quiet pup, I'm a bit busy" the shaman spoke with a rough and scratchy voice, yet somehow it was strangely clear as well.

“I--"

“I know why you are here." The shaman turned towards Windtail. “You want to find another artifact."

“How did you--"

“I saw what had happened at the village, I see everything. "

A shiver went down Windtail's spine. Could the rumors be true? That the shaman himself had gifts from the gods?

“Then--"

“No." The shaman bluntly said before turning around to the artifact on his table.

Windtail dropped his jaw wide open.

“What do you mean, no?"

“Because your brother was right!"

Windtail just lowered his head and arms.

“Please, anything…"

Windtail's eyes widened open when he heard his own voice. He had never sounded so pathetic. He lowered his head.

Windtail's ears perked up when he heard something hit the table and raised his head to see the shaman staring at him without his clear rocks. His grey eyes looked lifeless yet full of energy, and his toothy grin sent another wave of terror through Windtail.

“Just how desperate are you, pup? To prove yourself?"

Windtail tried to answer, a mumble coming out instead.“

"Desperate enough to lose your life?"

Life. Was that the ultimate cost for his desire to prove himself? His own life?

“Yes."

“Really now?" the shaman asked in a sarcastic tone.

“Yes. If I can't prove myself to the pack or to any other wolves. I may as well be dead."

Windtail could see the shaman's toothy grin disappear, replaced with that blank, neutral look the shaman usually kept.

“Your family would be-"

“They are not my family!" Windtail suddenly shouted. He tried to compose himself but began choking on his tears and shaking his head. “I have no family, I'm just a runt they found…"

“Hmmm."

There was a moment of silence between the two.

“There's something I do need. An artifact. A very special one"

Windtail looked at the shaman who began going through his table and piles of parchment.

“Its location is far away, dangerous, beyond the pale lands."

“How will I get to it then? No one returned from the lands alive."

Just as those words came out, the shaman produced a piece of parchment, a map.

“You know how to read these, right?"

“Yes, fa—the patriarch taught me,"

“Good." The shaman brought a quill and circled two spots on the map, both of which were far apart from each other and a line and curved and turned.

“This," The shaman pointed to the first circle on the map “is the camp. And this." He pointed to the other circle. “Is the location of where the artifact I desire should be. I have drawn a path that will take you around the pale lands."

The shaman rolled and handed Windtail the map which he took with shaking hands.

“It's located in a structure in the middle of four giant white dishes, you shouldn't be able to miss it. The entire place is inside the valley."

Four giant dishes?_ _

Windtail simply nodded.

“As for the artifact itself, what you're looking for appears like this," The shaman brought up one rectangle that hung from his necklace, the colours of it danced from the torches in the tents. “It should be located in a room at the far end of the structure. It's an extremely rare and powerful artifact. Get it and I'll sing praises of you. You may very well prove yourself to be worthy of pack alpha with this accomplishment."

Those words brought a smile to Windtail's face, and his tail began wagging. Pack Alpha. He could finally prove himself worthy.

“Will you do it?"

The younger wolf immediately nodded and blurted out, “Yes! I'll do it!"

“Good, the alphas won't sanction a hunt like this. It will take you weeks if not months to transverse just the distance."

Windtail's ears and tail dropped.

“That's why I have my own supplies." The shaman pointed to a bag in the corner.

“Everything you need should be in there. It will be a tough journey though, and you may not survive. There's a reason the alphas never approved of this expedition."

Millions of thoughts ran through Windtail's head. He could simply say no and resign himself to a mundane fate, or… he could finally prove himself. Windtail decided and went to grab the bag, hoisting it to his back. He clutched the map tightly as he began making his way outside without a second thought.

“Pup!" The shaman shouted. Windtail turned around to face him. “Yes?"

The shaman threw him something, a small rectangle of sorts that felt... weird.

“Once you reach the building, there's an area on the walls beside the entrance. Put the rectangle into it and it will let you into the structure."

Windtail nodded in understanding.

“Be careful. The artifacts of the gods are powerful, and these are amongst the most powerful they ever created. If you find it, be extremely careful."

“I will shaman."

“Oh and pup."

“Yes, shaman?"

The shaman smiled. “Good luck" and nodded.

Windtail smiled and nodded back, turning around and leaving the tent. As Windtail left the tent, his smile quickly changed to one of a snarl. Ironfang was waiting outside for him.

“What do you want!" Windtail shouted at Ironfang.

“You don't have to do this, you know." Ironfang spoke, his tone was much softer than usual. Almost one of worry… could his brother actually care for him.

No, even if he did. It didn't matter

“Leave me be." Windtail said as he walked past his brother without a glance.

Windtail heard his brother mutter something but he was too far ahead to make it out. The rest of the journey to the entrance of the camp was filled with stares and mutterings of other pack members. Even the guards gave him a worried look as he left his pack behind.

I hope it's worth it

When Windtail walked to the location marked on the map, there was indeed a valley. The journey was arduous and long. Windtail lost count of the days and nights, but he continued on. He was going to get to the artifact no matter what, and finally, it was literally within sight. A sight that Windtail was in awe of.

There were four dishes in the valley, far more massive than Windtail ever imagined. Though it was night, the moon shone brightly above, Windtail could see that they were white but also they were heavily damaged. Entire pieces of the dishes now laid on the ground and yet the dishes still stood, pointing towards the sky.

This… this is definitely a ruin of the gods, how magnificent!

From the vantage point, Windtail could see that much smaller building the Shaman talked about. It too was white and was right at the center of the four dishes. Windtail couldn't control his excitement as his tail kept wagging. It wasn't far from the vantage point. Soon Windtail would get his paws on the artifacts.

The walk to the building was uneventful, yet Windtail couldn't stop wagging his tail. His mouth was agape the entire journey as he stared in amazement at the four dishes. They were larger up close. Far larger. The sight of the dishes himself would be worth the journey, but it was not the purpose. The white building was now in front of him.Windtail just had to get in.

The entrance was easy to find as it was the only feature on the white building, Windtail pressed his hands against the metal doors not unlike the ones he had seen a month earlier. Only these were much, much thicker.

There's no way I could break through them, unless?

Windtail dropped the now much more empty bag onto the bare grass below and shuffled in it to find the small rectangle. Now holding it, Windtail wondered what to do next? He knew he held another artifact, maybe just… Windtail pressed the rectangle on the doors, but nothing happened. Windtail then tried placing it into the seam between the doors. Nothing. It was only when he looked left that he saw another, much smaller feature on the wall.

That must be the area the shaman talked about!

Windtail giddily walked to the feature but was stumped. The feature was small and black and made no sense to him. There were smaller squares on it and a few rectangles and lines. A line that was oddly sized outside everything else.

Windtail held the rectangle up and pushed it into the line. Suddenly there was a high-pitched sound and then hissing as the metal doors to the structure slowly opened. Windtail couldn't believe his eyes as the doors opened. More sounds appeared. Sounds of whirring and rumbling and then a bright light shone through the doors. There was only one thing the wolf could do. Windtail walked into the structure.

The first thing that struck him was the smell. It was unlike anything Windtail had ever smelled before. There was no musk, no mold. It smelled clean, but there was a hint of that sweet smell from the shaman's hut as well. Inside the structure itself, it was bare yet still amazed Windtail. The interior was exactly like those of the ruins, only they weren't ruins. They were clean and intact. Not a single pile of rubble or debris could be found.

I could spend hours here.

But no, there was still the artifact. Windtail could see that there were doors to his sides, right near the entrance, but he wasn't interested in those. It was the door, or what he thought was a door, at least at the far end of the room. Unlike all the other doors Windtail had come across, those were made from clear rock.

Windtail walked slowly towards it. He could see furnishings and other such artifacts through the clear rock. It was a treasure trove! But no, he had to focus. He had to find that specific one the shaman wanted. When Windtail finally reached the clear rock door, he brought his paws out to push it only from the clear rock to side open, surprising the already awe-stricken wolf.

Windtail took a tantalising step into the room and looked around. There was furniture similar to those in the camp, only made from the materials of the gods themselves. Objects and other items lined the walls that Windtail couldn't make sense of. He was unsure that the artifact he was looking for was here, still though. Even if he brought these lesser pieces back, it would still be an accomplishment. Windtail was about to examine one object when a shine caught his eyes.

Windtail turned to look at the shine and nearly fainted. There it was, the artifact the shaman talked about, only it was emitting light and moving?. As if the rectangle itself was alive, changing coulors every moment. But even that couldn't compare to the other thing Windtail saw.

Holding the artifact in the bones of their hands was a skeleton, slouched in a chair. Windtail had never seen a skeleton like it before. Its fingers were long and its face was flat, as if it didn't have a muzzle. It still had what Windtail presumed was clothing too, a strange white that seemed familiar.

Could it be? Was this a god?

What Else would it be? A skeleton of a creature Windtail had never seen before, in the ruin of the gods holding one of the most powerful artifacts? Windtail shook his head and held his eyes shut.

I can't believe it.

And yet, there it was, right in front of him. Windtail's heart pounded in his chest. He didn't know what he was feeling. Fear? Awe? Curiosity? All of them at once? Whatever he was feeling, Windtail had to get the artifact and return it to the shaman. Maybe he'll explain more. Windtail crouched down to the skeleton and slowly reached his hands out to the artifact. It's changing colors were mesmerising. His hands shook. Time felt to be at a standstill. Windtail breathed in deep and closed his eyes and grabbed the artifact.

Nothing.

It surprised Windtail; he felt almost disappointed. Opening his eyes and bringing the artifact to his face, he had a feeling that something had to happen—

White.

That was all Windtail could see as the artifact shone brightly. Windtail stumbled around, instinctively holding his hands over his eyes, dropping the artifact. His mind raced and something shot through his body. He fell on the floor, crying and mewling, yet there was no pain. As quickly as it started, the light ended, and the whiteness faded from his vision. Windtail slowly opened his eyes and took his paws off, wondering what was going on?

Windtail looked around, his head a blur. Something felt different, no, feeling different. It was when he looked at his hands, Windtail nearly fainted.

Before his very own eyes, they were changing. The black claws at the tips of his paws flattened out and changed color from black to white. His paw pads spread out and become lighter. His fingers became longer and thinner. He turned his hands around in morbid horror, seeing his fur slowly disappear into his skin, his skin that was turning from black to brown! Windtail kicked and slid against the wall only to freeze as he saw his own feet changing like his… Hands? His legs became straight as his foot?... was shortening, making his feet flat.

His own mind too was changing, thoughts and memories popped out of nowhere. His head was clearer, sharper. As if a whole different part of his mind was unlocked. He could think better but it was still fuzzy, still changing. A torrent of new information was going into his head.

Windtail immediately stood up, still on his toes as he watched with intense...curiosity at the changes. His black nose smoothened and dry out, turning brown like the skin on his hands. It slowly faded from view as his muzzle collasped into his face. He was getting thinner, smaller too. His garments and loincloth fell to the floor, no longer held on by his body.

His body! He saw more of his fur disappear, revealing smooth brown skin underneath. Even his modesty wasn't spared as his sheath seemed to detach from his body and was left free to flop downwards as it grew longer yet somehow feeling thinner too.

As he looked at his changing manhood, something familiar began disappearing, his tail! Windtail tried to grab the shrinking appendage, his fingers following as his pride disappeared right above his… butt? Butt!? With no tail to hold on to, Windtail grabbed the two mounds of fat that appeared on his backside. The wolf? Looked around frantically, trying to figure out what was going on? He was transforming… he was transforming into a god!?

How did he know? Air! He needed fresh air. Windtail could barely smell anything, it was like his sense of smell was removed. Windtail stumbled through the doors as more and more of his fur disappeared. His back and neck straightened as he tried walking on his toes. He accidentally stepped a foot down and it felt… natural. That's how it should be. He was a plantigrade. Windtail's eyes froze. He had never heard of that word before and… he had never seen so many colors before too! Even the bland hallway he was stumbling around him seemed more vivid and more colorful. Like there was a whole different dimension.

It wasn't the only colours Windtail saw. Flashes of… something. Memories, images. Dozens, hundreds of images flew to his mind as he continued to have flashbacks. When the ruins weren't ruins. When the artifacts weren't just artifacts but everyday items. When they were more of what he was becoming. More of the gods, but they weren't gods.

Windtail made slow steps with his new feet. They felt wrong, yet they felt right. He was panting differently too, as his tongue didn't loll out as far. His entire face was shorter and flatter. Windtail kept looking at his hands, how flexible and manoeuvrable they now are. They went to his hair, the only remnant of his fur, running his fingers through the much thinner strands. His expressive ears stood still and became rounder like… his own head.

He no longer stumbled as he continued along the hallway, walking slowly instead. That artifact, that device, was indeed powerful. Thousands of thoughts, ideas, but memories rushed into his head. The device was a piece of memory, to ensure that the gods… no, not gods, humans lived on. The now human Windtail walked outside of the communication bunker, feeling cold without his fur but alive with the smell of fresh air. His mind was in a frenzy. The shaman had a lot to answer for. Then he looked up.

Windtail looked to the night sky and fell to his knees. He had stared at it countless times before, but he now saw for what it truly was. Thousands, millions of stars surrounded him, all shining and colorful. He could see the clouds of the galaxy, the Milky Way itself. And at the corner of the sky, in the distance, was a colorful gas giant. Something at the back of Windtail's mind screamed at him.

Another flash. Streaks of lights shooting across the skies. Massing moving structures against the inky blackness of space. Spheres, no, planets of all sizes and shapes with everything from small outposts like here to endless cities of glass. But there was one image that was frozen in his head. That of the first anthros.

We were once humans, and we once travelled the stars.