FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Seeing a ton of bear and bird flesh part the snow like a ploughing truck sounds majestic. And, to be fair, if the gryphon in front of him wasn't bearing down on him, Mark might have thought so too.

It had been a whole day of ups and downs. Human beings were supposed to be good at tasks requiring endurance, but the day had spent more than just Mark's energy. It had spent him mentally and emotionally.

He'd run the complete gamut of tragedy and blazing success in just the span of a few hours, let alone a whole day.

So maybe that is why he only felt his instincts telling him to run away from the bird bear. Like a loud voice screaming from a mile away.

Because the stage was set.

Not like he had a choice in the matter. Katya was behind him and that meant he wasn't moving from this spot. The Gryphon had been in his nightmares for weeks now, and had turned into an altogether too real living monster in the end. Mark had braved the gryphon to save Katya but he had done his utmost to avoid a direct confrontation if he could. Practicality aside, Mark was afraid of the Gryphon and there was absolutely no shame in that admittance.

But right now?

Right now, the Gryphon wasn't a nightmare. It wasn't even a monster.

Right then and there, the Gryphon was…an obstacle.

Something in his way.

Many unnecessary things screamed in his mind for attention, like his tiredness, the cold he was feeling and his fear. But their time had come and gone, so they melted away as reality zoomed into the charging beast before him.

Allowing him to observe its speed, its bulk and its direction.

No different from a fight back at Camp, come to think of it.

Given the massive discrepancy in bulk and volume, this shouldn't even be a fight, under normal circumstances.

But, Mark noted under his sudden calm, these weren't normal circumstances.

The bird was blind in one eye, and every single breath it took was laboured and wet. Blood coated its flank from the hole the battery had burned through its wing, which hung limply on its back. This beast wasn't as healthy, wasn't as strong, wasn't as fast, as it could have, should have been.

Point in fact, it wasn't even running. It was charging, yes, but it was jugging. Given the circumstances, that might just be the best it could do.

So perhaps he could do this after all. There was no time for fancy tactics here, and the element of surprise preempted any sort of strategy. This was going to be a head-on fight, no two ways about it. But the cards in his hand weren't empty.

And the gryphon's wasn't full.

So, with grappling hook in his left hand, and his machete in his right, he stepped off against the snowy ground and counter-charged its advance.

And then he grunted in pain as the gryphon simply seized him by his left shoulder.

Holy shit, it was horrifyingly strong!

He at least managed to interpose his grappling hook between the right-clawed paw before it closed around his left shoulder. With the flanged hooks on the middle of its paw, the Gryphon wasn't able to fully flex its claws around him. That meant that they weren't able to pierce his jacket, but they still held him in place securely enough to pull him into the gryphon.

Right as it dipped its beaked mouth directly at Mark's stomach.

Ripping guts out was the preferred way for this animal to kill. It allowed it to start feasting immediately even as its prey quickly died of shock.

That, too, would have been Mark's fate…if he hadn't shoved his machete, length-wise, across its beak and into its maw. It stopped its goring attack on its tracks, the sharp of his blade biting into its pterygoid muscles before the point of its beak could so much as touch his stomach.

“KyAGH!" the gryphon shrieked as it shook its mouth to dislodge Mark's machete, but only ended up making blood splurt into its mouth as it made the chopping tool dig further into the muscles that closed its mouth. Seeing his chance, Mark pushed it's head back using his machete as leverage, letting the pain do what his strength could not.

The claw holding his left shoulder started to slip down as he tilted the Gryphon's head to its right. A grapple with the beast did not advantage him, so it was better to disengage, so he'd push the gryphon off before he started circling around it. Or at least that was how his thoughts went.

The blur in his peripheral vision barely saved him from dying then and there.

Habits that came from long training and years of beating and getting beaten with nothing but wrapped hands saw him duck his head just as a clawed paw came swooshing in.

Air flowed on the top of his head as a blow that would have taken his head off went over him, shifting the gryphon's entire body so that its left front arm was now falling over Mark's machete. That put all its front weight on its right paw, which now had to slip from Mark's shoulder to the ground.

If it had had a better grip, the weight of a ton of gryphon would have dragged Mark with that paw. As it was, with the grappling hook between it and his arm? It merely scraped his jacket as it slipped and the gryphon braced itself, leaving Mark on its blind left side.

But it wasn't over.

Mark had shaken it off, for the moment, but in a fight like this being relentless was how you won without getting hurt in turn. So it was that gryphon hadn't ended its attack yet.

Without so much as taking a moment to breathe, Mark could see the gryphon brace towards him, landing a leg in front of Mark's feet as it twisted.

Speed and strength made up for a lot, but it had always been the ambush that allowed the animal to act unimpeded. But this wasn't an ambush and Mark could see the vicious swipe coming from its right paw.

The gryphon, who was blind in its left eye, on the other hand? It was surprised to see Mark bracing with his machete pointing to the side.

Right where its paw was coming to smash him into the ground. Right as the point of the utility blade penetrated the centre of its paw. Right as blood sprouted from the back of its paw, and the inertia of its strike made it slam all the way to Mark's hilt.

The gryphon screamed even as its claws failed to clench around Mark, but still managed to impact a hand the size of a shovel into the human's arm.

Braced or not, Mark let out a grunt of pain as his left arm buckled and he found himself thrown back into the ground.

Thankfully, snow padded his fall. But as it was? The blow still knocked the wind out of him.

But he could not afford to stop so, shock or not, he rolled in the ice dust that covered this part of the saddle until he was on all fours. Trapped on the Gryphon's paw as it was, the blow had snatched the machete from Mark's hand, but he still had his grappling hook on his left.

It had to be enough.

The gryphon had taken a few steps back as it continued to scream in pain, waving the impaled paw in agony. This gave Mark a brief respite. But if being relentless was how predators fought while avoiding harm, then that too applied to Mark. Because he was not planning on being prey.

Forcing his lungs to fill through stark pain, Mark shifted the grappling hook to his right hand, and then he charged.

Blind as it was in one eye, the Gryphon would not have been able to ignore the crunch that Mark's running steps made on the snow. But Mark was still counting on it giving him enough time to cause some harm, but some idiot was roaring. Giving him away.

And then Mark realized that idiot was him.

He was roaring as he chambered the grappling hook above his head.

So warned, the Gryphon fully opened its bloody maw as it faced Mark once more. It roared its pain and hatred against Mark's pitiful defiance, not willing to be the loser in a fight of aggression.

As the gryphon had shown, its range was deceptively long, its limbs being to touch him regardless of how long his hook or machete were.

So, when Mark got just within its range, he dug his hook into the snow under him.

And tossed it into the gryphon's face.

Unwilling to back off as it was, this proved to be a provocation that it could not ignore and the gryphon stretched out to drag Mark with its left paw before it was even done shaking the snow off its face.

But without sight to guide its actions, Mark was able to simply slam his climbing hook into the incoming limb, making the Gryphon flinch its leg back, drawing a grunt of pain. With its right front leg still impaled, the beast had to hop back on the wounded limb.

Making it slow. Making unstable. The gryphon put its front paw in the ground as it took a step back.

And allow Mark to step into the range of its head.

Blind on its left eye as it was, it could not see Mark swing coming from its left side. It could only shriek as Mark threw its head right.

Its paw was already darting out, hoping to catch him again and drag him under the beast. But three swipes were enough for him to mark the length of both its stride and its strikes. He barely hopped back enough that claws barely passed him by and, as it retraced its front leg, Mark was already there.

Smacking its beak into the other side.

Mark, as comparatively small and weak as he was, could not hope to do much damage. But the small damage that he did quickly added up. The gryphon's beak began to get scratched. Then it began to get pockmarked.

Then it began to crack.

Without the inertia of a charge, or the advantage of the initiative, the gryphon found itself mired in a trap where it could not catch up to the human without opening itself and where it could not properly protect itself without letting Mark just wail on him.

Mark wasn't simply surviving against the gryphon. He was actually fighting back. Pierced lung or not, blind eye or not, maimed wing or not, against the gryphon something like Mark should have died.

It was enough to enrage the gryphon past the point that it forgot his pain.

It was enough to make it put its impaled paw on the ground so that it could finally snatch the gryphon's putrid snack.

But just because it chose to ignore the machete, didn't mean it disappeared. As it stepped on its right foot, the hilt on its right paw fouled its advance, and Mark blinked as the gryphon slipped in front of his feet.

He recovered from his surprise quicker than the gryphon could recover from its fall and swung down his grappling hook over the gryphon's head.

The blow caught the gryphon's puss-filled left eye.

And popped it like a zit.

The scream the gryphon gave then was loud enough to leave a ringing in Mark's ears as it backed off and tried to lift its head out of Mark's reach.

The tables had suddenly turned and it was the gryphon's turn to escape from him.

With the gryphon completely on the backfoot now, it was up to Mark to try and finish it. Because he knew damned well he might not get another chance like this.

So Mark followed after it, completely coming into its range as angled himself for another blow, not noticing that his right foot touched its left uninjured paw.

And that was all it took to reverse every single bit of his progress.

The paw suddenly grasped his leg, the gryphon's claws circling his limb and gripping it with enough strength to almost crush it with sheer grip pressure.

Mark knew he had fucked up when the Gryphon pulled Mark under it, its beak blindingly coming down to tear and shred whatever it could.

Under the ton of monstrous strength, it was all Mark could do to catch the beak with his grappling hook and successfully leverage it with both hands to keep it away from his most tender organs. But as it was he found his hands bleeding as the cracked beak raked his hands again and again.

Like this, Mark could only defend. Like this, it was only a matter of time until he was too tired to defend himself. Like this, all it took was the gryphon slipping through his grappling hook once and ripping his intestines out of his stomach.

But just like its left clawed paw had his left leg locked, its right paw, impalement or not, had come up to secure his torso in place. So that the Gryphon wouldn't have to do a whole lot of aiming to disembowel him.

It put the hilt of his machete over his chest.

Seeing the chance for what it was, Mark used up a lot of his strength with a pained grunt. He managed to shove the gryphon's head just a single meter to the right. It gave him a whole second's worth of room for him to let go of the hook with his right hand and grab the hilt of his machete. Just in time for him to pull the hilt into the back of his hook, drawing it out of the paw.

The gryphon shrieked one last time as pain overcame its senses. It made it jerk its paw out of Mark's torso in reflex and made it flinch. It made it overlook what Mark was holding, and it kept it from slipping past the less stably held hook.

Wrenching the gryphon's head to the left, Mark breathed as he sat up and, with as much strength as the position could give him, pulled his elbow back and then slammed the point of his blade underneath the gryphon's beak.

Directly in its throat.

The feathers there provided initial resistance but, unlike the hide on its back, the skin on the bottom and front of the gryphon's body was soft.

Blood spurts and splashes onto the ground and into Mark's pants as the gryphon lets go of him and takes a couple of steps back. Mark is so spent that he can't hold on to his machete as it sticks out of the gryphon's throat.

The scent of blood had been present since he'd stabbed the gryphon on its paw, but now? It was inescapable.

The human stares numbly at the gryphon as it swipes at the machete piercing its trachea, making it slice and dig into its throat every time, making it worse. It tries to roll in the ground, trying to dislodge it.

When the only thing it did was make it go deeper.

Mark gets a first front seat to seeing a gryphon drown in its own blood as it starts trashing around, no longer trying to get the machete out but, quite simply, get some air in.

But the wet noise that accompanied its every previous breadth wasn't just a hint at the end of a huff. It was now the beginning, the middle and the end of its every attempt at filling its lungs.

The gryphon backs away to the end of the saddle, just above the lip that drops into an abyss below. The snow around them became vibrant red and Mark forced himself to stand up as the gryphon got weaker and weaker.

It was still trashing, and it was still trying to breathe. It was still fighting, fighting to live.

But Mark could see it in the gryphon's sole eye.

It had lost and it was dying.

It was desperate to live, but it was dying.

And then, with one last gurgle, it went still.

And started sliding down the edge of the cliff.

In truth, the gryphon had lost the second its wing had been crippled but it wasn't until Mark had pierced its throat that Mark had won. Its vitality was so monstrous that it took this much for Mark to be able to claim any victory at all.

With the last of the explosive energy that he could manage, Mark hurried up and reached out as the gryphon began to slide out of the edge of the saddle. He managed to circle his fingers around the wrapped linen of his handle. The ton of muscle, sinew and bone finally beat all the friction that kept it on top of this cliff just as Mark secured his feet.

It left him holding a bloody machete aloft as the body simply slid out of his utility weapon and plummeted down into the abyss below.

The sound of the wind thundered in his ears, not because it picked up, but because he could finally afford to be aware of anything except his opponent.

He noticed the pain in his left arm and his right leg. The stench of blood smelled like pure copper, as the ground had seemingly been simmered in crimson powder.

He breathed so hard that the cold air bit into his lungs. He fell so tired that it was a wonder he could stand still. The beast had landed here just as the sun began to fall and, looking into the horizon, it appeared as though time hadn't progressed at all. And that, despite it feeling like he'd gone all five rounds with the fucking thing.

His head thrummed with the nausea of too much adrenaline going through him, and then leaving his system, putting it under heavy stress.

He had won, and all he wanted was a moment of time to recover. A second to look at the world around him to centre himself.

He had won and…there was still one thing left to do.

The thing he would always, from that point on, make sure to always do.

He checked on Katya.

The goblin, as it turns out, was looking at him with her jaw slacked open as if she couldn't believe what he had done.

“You okay?" he asked, checking over her, making sure none of her injuries had reopened themselves or that her jacket had acquired any extra rips that would kill her if not patched.

But Katya stopped him.

“Mark," she said, softly, but firmly, grabbing his hands and bringing it over to her face.

They were still seeping blood from the scratches the gryphon had made.

“I'll be fine," Mark ignored the thrumb of his injuries pulsing at his senses, “It's just a flesh wound."

Then Katya leaned her head forward and kissed the wounds back of his hands, the action stinging a bit but sending a familiar sensation up his spine.

He supposed she was trying to be soothing. Trying to make it better for him.

But the blood it left on her lips painted them bright red, complementing the golden color of her eyes as she stared at him.

…Katya was small, wasn't she?

And she was awfully female too.

Her luscious curves, which gave her violent swerves in her hips and ass, were things that her jacket could not hide. Her breasts were ripe fruit that he still could not believe he could indulge in. And her lips were so fleshy.

And her eyes so smoldering.

Katya was rather small.

Mark towered over her, made her small as her breath quickened standing just in front of him, as the scent of blood caught up with the scent of her sweat and her hair.

Katya could fit between his legs.

He'd fucked her but a single time as it was, and sampled her holes in his own time. He doubted he would ever get tired of her body, but-

He reached out and grabbed her chin. He meant it to be soft, but his hands were still shaking from the adrenaline that had coursed through his veins. She gave a pained grunt as he clenched her jaw, but instead of pulling away, she put a hand on top of his…

He was leaning down to kiss her, brushing away the stains of his blood on her lips with his, pushing his tongue inside of her mouth to slurp her tongue.

The best part of kissing was the sensations that came from the lips, but Mark felt the need to do more than just feel good.

Here was a woman. Here was a woman who was reaching into him and, despite the cold, despite where they were, despite what they had gone through, was grabbing at his crotch.

And insisting that he grabbed her tits.

“You wanna fuck?" Mark asked, despite never having taught Katya what that word meant

“Yes." Something must have shown on his voice because Katya quickly grabbed his face and pulled it into her lips again.

Just a little bit lower down the path, just below the saddle that they found themselves in, was a crevice in the wall that wasn't quite a cave, but it certainly cut out the wind that bit into them.

All of Mark's spare blankets and clothing were in his backpack and they were clean. Laid out on the floor of the crevice, Mark could actually lay on them as a little lady straddled his stomach and traced the blue bruises on his shoulder.

She was naked, revealing scabbed-over scrapes on her feet, arms and hands, but with his backpack partly blocking the entrance of the crevice, things were getting heated all the same.

Mark also wore nothing as her ass and pussy slid along his stomach, the Goblin looking on with fascination as his wounds manifested themselves. His cock was hardening behind her, and it was all he could do to not pick her up and drop her in it.

And by the mischievous smile on her face, Katya knew it too.

“Pretty," she declared as she splayed her hand all over Mark's chest, and dragged them down until they were just below her thighs on his stomach.

Then, pushing said hands into his stomach, Katya lifted her ass in the air, arching her back as she did so, and looked Mark squarely in the eye as she lowered her rear until her pussy was pressing against his dick.

Mark moaned pleasantly before she allowed her weight to spread her petals around his glans and then grabbed his torso to actively pull herself into his cock.

“Big!" Katya moaned as she forced her insides to spread for him, “Great big!"

“Tight," Mark replied in her tongue, humming with pleasure at how her vaginal tunnel gripped his cock, “Very tight!"

“No!" Katya laughed as she corrected him in heavily accented English, “It be great tight!"

“Not in Engggaaugh!" Mark tried to correct her in turn, but Katya silenced him by quickening her booty down his cock.

“It be great tight," she smirked as she put her chin below his pectoral muscles, her wet pussy devouring his cock as it went.

Mark breathed out as his glans got to her cervix and squished against it, making them both moan.

The smell of sex perverted their little cave, his pre-cum mixing with her juices and making a mix that just drove him wild.

“For you?" Mark growled as he reached out and grabbed Katya by her ears, his thumbs and index fingers pinching the end of ear daggers, “It can be whatever you like."

“But it's actually, very tight." he made Katya groan as he tugged at them, twirling them between his fingers as he pulled at the corner of her lips with his thumbs.

It was such a silly conversation, given where they were and what they had just gone through.

But then, could it be any other way?

'It's-" Katya, ever the sore loser, rose her eyes and then, clenching her teeth, slammed her pussy into his cock, “-great tight!"

His glans impacted her cervix and made Mark's eyes almost go cross-eyed as she rose her ass again.

And slammed her cervix down into his cock.

“Great," she insisted with another slam, “-tight!."

“Great!" she told him as his hands went down from her ears to her shoulders so that he would have something to grip! “-tight!"

“Say that!" she ordered him as her pussy left vaginal slim on his shift followed every single slam that send waves through her fertile curves, “Say that!"

But, well, if this was how it was?

Mark sat up, scooping her tits into his stomach, and making her straddle him. His hands went to her waist and slid around to grip his ass as he loomed over her.

“No," he growled as he filled his digits with ass meat, “It's very tight!"

Then he slammed her down on his cock.

Her cervix opened up and slipped around his glans as Katya shuttered and her eyes went crossed-eyed as she came.

“Say it!" Mark now commanded as he lifted her up.

And slammed her right back down, making her cervix have to expand that little bit more for his cock, “Say it!"

“V-very," Katya stuttered as her legs circled Mark's waist and barely managed to lock behind his back, “T-tight?"

“Not good enough," Mark informed her as he slammed her pussy down again, making her cervix shutter as it expanded just a bit more.

“Very-aaaaugh, tight!" Katya groaned as her arms, too, went around his chest, and dug her fingernails into his back.

“Say it clearly," Mark put his lips next to her ear and ordered her.

He picked her up again and, this time, her cervix didn't hold on.

Her pussy met the base of his cock as he pierced all the way through and completely invaded her uterus.

“VERY TIGHT!" Katya moaned as she came a second time.

“Gooood," Mark throatily moaned as he, too, reached the end of his match.

Rendered on an “o" face as Katya was, it was a simple matter to lean down and cover her lips as he felt his semen surge up his cock.

And invade her depths.

His DNA pulled into her womb as he sprayed burst after burst of virile sperm into her baby room. Mark had, of course, known about reproduction, but his hopeless prospects of ever being worth enough to attract a woman had pushed it out of his thoughts.

“Protection" wasn't something he'd ever have to worry about and, even after Katya came into his life, was not something he'd ever considered either. Never mind crossing the gulf between species; that there could be consequences to his actions had never even entered his thoughts.

But instinct would not be denied.

Mark pushed stuffed Katya as much of his seed as he could, the thrill of having bested one of nature's apex predators insisting upon him to leave something behind.

So he came in her. He came and he came. He devoured the tiny woman in his arms, even as they kissed, even as they relieved each other of their sex.

His semen burst out of her pussy and stained his naked lap. It entangled on her pubic hairs and on his as it slid down into their blankets.

And then, finally, their orgasm ended.

They collapsed on their impromptu bed, their act of passion having heated the crevice enough for some spare sheets and their jackets to provide them with enough warmth as they lay there.

It would be night soon and only an idiot engaged in mountain climbing in the dark. And this? This was a good enough resting spot.

Katya nestled into the crook of his arm as she saddled beside him, his cock still inside her cooch. She had not pulled out of him and he? He sort of found the idea of leaving there sexy.

He could drift to sleep like that, he supposed.

The idea sounded very hot, actually.

But he couldn't because, at long last, he had a moment to talk with his goblin.

“Katya," Mark said as he stared outside.

“Hmm?" Katya cracked one eye open.

And then Mark asked the question that he had never thought he'd ask, but that had quickly become the linchpin of his life.

“What are we?"