FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Sunlight.

Through an open window, the sun reflects itself perfectly off a glass pane, shining into my face. I welcome the light upon me. The sun's warmth sinks down through my flesh and into my bones. Absolute bliss. I take a deep breath, luxuriating in the moment.

Bright days, clear skies. Summer is now here. The season's surely my highlight of the year, and I think most would come to agree. Especially the fine community here at Flocc University. That is... They would agree under ordinary circumstances. This summer in particular has gone sour. Woefully, the present situation here at Flocc has become rather dire.

Violence. Heartbreak. High tensions. The maul.

At this time of year, the majority of our students would be enjoying their summer vacation, free to head outside and enjoy the sun. However, absolute tragedy has struck us all. Right on the heels of final exams week, two of our students lost themselves to their instincts, and clashed.

The precise details of the maul are unclear to even school faculty, as investigators are still making exact sense of the situation. But, it doesn't take a genius to surmise the results of the mauling are far beyond unpleasant. With this and the whole "Serval" incident, our education district is in some deep shit.

The university was forced to shut down for just shy of a month. The board of education decided the best of course of action was to extend the current academic year into summer, so that our students may complete their final exams properly. This of course delayed students allotted vacation time as well. While a reasonable decision, both student and teacher will concur that the current situation, to put it eloquently, sucks.

As an educator teaching at Flocc myself, this is naturally a disastrous addition to my workload.

More importantly, as a mother, I simply cannot fathom how the victims of the maul and their families must feel...

To my left, I sense something shifting closer. I signal in on a voice.

"Miss Fox?"

My classroom is steeped with the giddy rumbles from anthro of dozens of different species. With class adjourned, the kids are eager to take their leave and begin their weekend. Under the energetic chatter, I can pluck out the calls of a student standing before my desk. They beckon for my attention. Instead, I turn my gaze from the window to the mountain of paperwork spread corner to corner on my desk. I let the keen senses of my ears and nose do all my looking.

Nose twitching and sniffing the air, I can easily identify the speaker as male. Faint cloacal scent. Virgin. A familiar sand boa.

The tips of my ears flick as the student speaks once more,

"Uhh, Miss Fox, did you get my email yet? I sent you more homework," the boa says. I detect a note of anxiety behind their words.

My eyes remain affixed on my work, scanning. I clear my throat to respond. Ahem.

"Yes, Snesly, I've seen your messages. You are aware that homework you've sent is months overdue, yes?"

"Uh, yeah, but… I gotta get my grade up."

Hm. I tap a pencil against the desk impatiently. Tp tp tp tp.

"You can't expect assignments far beyond their due date to help you now, honey. This makes the third overdue assignment you've brought in for me to mark."

The sand boa fidgets, displeased.

"If you'd like to improve your grade, Snesly, I'm afraid you'll need a time machine. You should've thought better than to neglect my advice all throughout the year. I'm sorry, but the final exam is next week, and I'm unsure even a perfect score will be of any help to you now. I hope you've considered my offer for tutor--"

"Nooo, dude!" he cuts me off. "I can't do tutorials in the summer! My fuckin' summer vacations already ruined, I can't go waste it in more stupid classes!"

I tilt my head to my shoulder with a shrug, and click my tongue. "You 'ought to have thought more sensibly in my classes then, dear. Just relax now. At this point, nothing can be done. It won't be the end of the world. I recommend you gather your focus, and give an honest effort next time."

Frustrated, the boa hisses, "Nooo, come ON! I did the work! Why can't you just help me out without being such a bitch--"

CRRK.

The pencil betwixt my paws snaps in half as my grip tightens. Oops. Fists balling, I make a show of rising from my seat.

"Uh, s-sorry. Uh, hey, Miss Fox--"

"Do you know why we're here, Snesly?" I interject. The edge of my words carry a quiet hostility. My tone raises just a notch.

They stammer. "What? Uh, what--"

"My classroom. This university. Why, this very society at all. Do you know why we find ourselves within it?"

Puzzled, a "… What?" is all the boa can manage.

I draw closer to my student. My eyes affix solely on them now, and they shudder as my approach does not slow.

"_ Respect , Snesly dear. We have the opportunity to chat today because of the _respect we share."

Unease keeps the boy silenced, and I slide in behind them. My head twists, scanning the classroom to ensure we're alone. Not a soul remains. With peace of mind, both of my paws wrap around the shoulders of the sand boa. Claws splayed.

"You see dear, as a society, we've all cultivated respect for our fellow living beings. Long have we outgrown the feral ways of our wild animal ancestors. No more marking our territory. No more rutting in the woods. And no more hunting each other down like animals, predator and prey," A snap of my fangs punctuates my sentence.

"I think to the past of my own kind. My fox ancestors were omnivores, you know. Anything they could get their tricksy little paws on, a fitting meal. Berries, eggs, mice, snakes…"

An audible Gulp slides down the boa's throat. I drum my fingers along his shoulders, rhythmically.

"But of course, perish the thought of becoming the prey of another, dear. With the respect we all share, no one will be hunting anybody. We respect not only the laws of society, but our fellow kin and humans as equals. We all coexist together rather politely, don't you think? Well, save for any unfortunate instinctual outbursts, of course. Like that of the maul here at Flocc, only a month prior…"

I laugh behind closed lips. "But, such a thing couldn't possibly happen twice. We won't be having another mauling as long as we reciprocate respect with one another, correct?"

I lean in to the snake's ear. A tiny little dot on the corner of their scaly face.

"You do respect even a bitch like me, do you not?"

... There's a pregnant pause as I await my answer. The boy flounders, hissing, trying to find the words. Snesly's eyes dart from each of my hands as they speak.

"Y-yes sir!-- I mean, mom!-- MA'AM! I-I mean, I do ma'am! Uhm--"

"Good boy," I cut. I withdraw my claws, and lock my hands behind my back. The tip of my tail brushes underneath their chin, tilting their scaly head upwards. Our eyes lock.

"Don't dawdle now, dear. You can sign up for tutorials in the front office."

Gentle steps return me once more to my desk to finish today's work. With haste, the sand boa scuttles out of the room, muttering under their breath.

With a smile, I call out to Snesly as they slither through the door to the hall. "Enjoy your weekend, dear."

-

The front door to my apartment swings open easily with a click of my keys. I've made the drive home from Flocc in record time, and I'm just dying to flop on the couch and melt between the seats. The length of the day clings to my ankles, dragging me down and sapping what little energy I have left. I pull myself through the door, and shut it behind me with a bump of my hip.

For the evening ahead, my mind fixates on but three simple things.

I need a hot bath. I need a joint. And I need to jill off.

My post-work muscle memory starts to kick in, and I let my body take over. Door locked and bolted. Purse on the kitchen counter. Clothes to the floor, bra flung off, down to nothing but briefs. Muuuch better.

Were I to have a say, It'd be down right criminal to force a demure vixen such as myself in such needless amounts of clothing! I suppose all it takes is a few prudish humans in control of our legislation to brew up such a restrictive public decency code. A touch bullshit, don't you think? While I'm certainly no nudist 'nature purist' like some kin, letting the fur breathe just a smidgen more couldn't hurt.

I fish my phone out from my purse, and retreat to the couch. With a satisfied cry, I crash my rump down on the cushions and sprawl out. My phone unlocks with a few taps of my claws, and I navigate to my text messages. A wave of anxiety washes over me. I tap on Toby's contact.

Sigh. Terse and dismissive as ever. Why oh why won't you talk to your mommy?

These short, curt answers from her were becoming an all too usual and disappointing outcome. A scowl finds its way across my lips, and I mull my sweet daughter over. Why does she refuse to respond to her mother proper? I'm not asking for very much, am I? At the very least, she can humor me with a simple conversation. Yet she finds the bare minimum of responses appropriate, if any response at all…

Perhaps this is to be expected. I'll concede, she's too much like her damn mother! The moment she graduates and finds herself but a sliver of freedom, she decides to run off on her own. To "experience the world!", so she says. My silly brat.

I agreed to let Toby have a 'gap year' before attending secondary education, so she may relax and organize her priorities before making a decision. But, of the last of my expectations were for her to fly from the nest and live with her other friends.

I look to the door of Toby's bedroom, across the hall from my own. Now it's just a spare room for no one. Heavily, I sigh.

I want nothing more than to chew on my own bitterness, trying to rationalize my Toby's idea to go live in another home without her mother's explicit blessing. But, I digress. Stewing in my own vitriolic thoughts shall do no good. My mind is much too exhausted right now to contemplate her behaviour further. Energy drained, I can think only of the simple evening ahead.

Continuing to surf on my phone, I spy the blip of another message in my notifications. It's from a friend of mine, and a fellow educator at Flocc.

Hmph. Sipping on margaritas, gekkering with a couple friends out in some dimly lit dive? That sounds absolutely divine. Alas, it can't be done. I've far too many responsibilities to attend to. Since Flocc's reopening, I haven't had a single day off. On my weekends, there's an endless supply of assignments to mark, lessons and exams to prepare, etcetera, etcetera. I barely have the time to complete even basic chores, such as laundry and grocery shopping.

I can feel a migraine beginning to swell beneath my skull. With two digits, I attempt to nurse my aching mind, swirling my temples in circles. I think I've more than earned a little treat.

I peel my tired, chubby old body off the couch, and amble towards the kitchen. The tip of my tail flickers as my arms stretch up to the top of my pantry. Paws fumble about, grasping, until my clawtips bump against a glass jar and take hold. As I draw the treasure closer and look, fear strikes me. God, please, no--

My weed jar. Empty.

The many, many woes present in my life may be one thing. But this? This is the final dagger to my back. This, I shall not be denied. I stow the jar, and retreat to the depths of my refrigerator. Reaching deeply, I pull forward a can. The last can, as it seems I've guzzled down all the others. Imprinted on the drink are two simple words. "WEED COLA".

The letters sandwich the green logo of a marijuana leaf. Falls far short of clever, but I sure as shit don't mind. With my index claw, I peel open the silver tab of the beverage, and take a moment to inhale the scent. Sweet. That signature faux vanilla smell. A very subtle scent of hemp, overpowered by artificial sugars and chemicals. Tiny bubbles of carbonation tickle the end of my snout. My restraint dwindles, and I take a long sip. God. Just superb. I pull back, and smack my lips delightedly.

Pot is a guilty pleasure of mine, especially edibles. Smoking it does fine in a pinch, but the edible alternatives are far better for the lungs. Healthier than cigarettes at least, and I've long since given those up. The moment I found out I was pregnant, I fed my filthy smokes to the trash. With enough time on this earth, you learn the only person who'll take care of your body is you.

… I poke the pudge of my belly.

Well, I try to take care of myself… Sort of.

Sipping idly, I move to the bathroom and kick on the bath's faucet. Most nights I'd pass on washing up, as many kin do. It disturbs our natural scent, not to mention the discomfort of wet fur. However, I simply can't deny the pleasures of a nice, hot soak.

As the water begins to rise to temp, steam clouds my figure in the mirror. A deft paw slides off my briefs with ease. I chug down the last of my cola, and toss the empty can over my shoulder. I search my toiletries for the bottle of Happy Hippo Bubble Bath, only to find the container disappointingly light in my hands. Empty again. Phooey.

Bubble-less, I slip myself beneath the surface of the hot water all the same. And it feels so, so good. Only now do I realize, I am just-- so, so tired. Mentally and physically. Between my workload, the lack of sleep, the situation with Toby, and... Grhh. It's all too much. I sink deeper. The surface of the water laps at the edge of my snout.

Come now, Trisha. Burying ourselves in gloom shall do no good. We've had worse days before, and we'll have worse days long after. All we can do is keep pushing forward, and make today a memory.

Like a bear, I scratch my belly and growl with content. I can feel the high starting to wind in, and my thoughts begin to slip away. Somewhere else. Somewhere pleasant. Somewhere… carnal. My hands too begin to drift, lower and lower. My mind blanks, and I just..

Relax.

-

…

Zzz.

Zz.

Zt.

Snrk. Ahh… hm?

I feel warm. Wet. Lethargic, mind hazy and eyes bleary, I try to get my bearings.

Oh, cuss. I've fallen asleep in the bath.

My initial shock quickly dissipates to amusement, and I smile. Oh Trisha, you old schlub. Asleep at the wheel, as it were. Thankfully, there's no one to see my blunder.

… Or to help, had the worst happened. If I were to slip under the water's surface while asleep, I very well may have …

Best. Not. To think about it.

With a twist of the drain cap, the tub begins to empty, and I step out. I shake myself down like a dog, shedding water off my body and up against the bathroom walls. I scrape my yellow sweater worn yesterday off the floor to dry myself off. Scratching my armpits, I dare a sniff of my clawtips. Try as I might, no amount of soap and water can hope to suppress the natural musk of a kin woman.

In light of my recent shortage of certain... necessities, I'll have to disturb the usual flow of my weekend. I often delay all shopping and tasks to Sunday, so I may enjoy my Saturday morning and complete any extraneous paperwork for Flocc in the evening. Unfortunately, being completely depleted of all weed, I'll have to expedite my schedule and shop this afternoon. There's simply no chance in hell I get through officiating my final exams at Flocc next week without any hash.

That said, I've plenty of time to take the morning slow. I slap together a breakfast of jam and toast ( a daring synthesis, I know ), and wash it down with a swig of almond milk from the carton.

As for my wardrobe for today, I decide on something a step beyond 'casual'. Just my underwear, some jeans, and a black sports bra. Some may consider such a featherweight outfit to be vulgar. Inconsiderate. I pay such biased rhetoric no mind. Despite a lack of a shirt, I'm not exposing any 'femininity' to the world, so to speak. My comfort breaks no law.

And really, momma doesn't want to wear a god damn shirt today.

Keys in hand and purse over my shoulder, I'm ready to face the day.

-

Slow, thoughtful steps carry me down the health and hygiene aisle. In my search for a new bottle of bubble bath solution, my eyes sweep over dozens and dozens of human-centric products. Skin creams. Face masks. Bite-sized nail clippers and disposable razors. Makeup. While I'm certainly no stranger to mascara and lipstick, I find all this 'blush' and 'foundation' quite alien. Thinking now, I can't recall the last time I used a little makeup and dolled myself up...

Eventually, I find my Happy Hippo brand of bath soap. A plastic caricature of a hippo sits on the cap. All organic. "Pet friendly!" a text bubble printed on the label adds helpfully.

Naturally, I look to the other shampoos and products lining the shelves. In tiny, 500ml or so bottles, I find shampoos of all sorts of obnoxious scents. 'Apple-Cinnamon', 'Bubble Gum', 'White Bread' ...? Utterly bizzare. The pitiful volumes of such bottles are depressing enough. Half a litre? Pfft. That might last a couple nights of washing nothing but my tail, let alone the rest of my fur. The artificial smells in human products are quite irritating to senses as sharp as mine, too.

I stow the bottle of bubble bath into my basket, resting next to a bag of jumbo marshmallows and crisps. I must take care not to collide into the other shoppers here with my basket. It pains me to admit it, but I take up a bit more… space than the average shopper here. And it's _ not _ because of my weight, if that's what you're thinking. ( Asshole. )

It's a matter of my natural biology. I am but a ravishing, picturesque fox-kin. On average, kin are physically larger than humanity. On top of that, I myself am well above the national height standard for foxes.

This drugstore, currently nestled inside the 'Zellers Place' shopping mall, is used entirely by human beings. Well, save for any rare vixens passing through, of course. Moving through the aisles of the drugstore, I pass human, after human, after human.

The crowds here feel so different. At Flocc, the hallways are a rainbow of horns, haunches, and fuzzy features of all kinds. Full of barks and hoots, and strong smells of natural musk. Humans on the other hand are far more tame. A humans height rarely rivals my own, as most stand a good head shorter or so. Their movements, less animated. Their scent, much weaker. They gather like schools of minnows, swarming. Fascinating creatures.

I catch plenty of them gawking at me in kind as I pass. They can't be blamed. An anthro woman such as myself is bound to stick out in a herd of humans. Like a giraffe among gazelle. When my gaze threatens to meet their own, they're quick to avert their eyes. In hushed whispers, some dare to comment on the fox plodding through their mall. Their quiet attempts at polite secrecy are nothing but cute.

My ears twitch, listening in on the mumbling behind my back.

"Lookit this freaky piece of ass..."

"Where's her shirt...?"

"What's a beast like that doing here?"

I simply twist my muzzle high and maintain a steady pace forward.

As I round the corner of the aisle and approach the self checkout, I spy a certain someone. Could it be? It's the face of an old friend of mine, Richard. The manager of this delightful store. Just the man I'm looking for!

Like the devil possessed, a wicked smirk creeps across my muzzle. I approach Rich from behind while they're preoccupied conversing with another human. He fails to detect me sneak up to his flank. As Rich continues to prattle on to the customer before them, said customer casts me strange stares from over the shoulder of my target. The tip of my tail swishes up, covering Richard's eyes, and I lean in close behind to whisper.

I giggle. "Guess who?"

"Wh-- T-Trisha!" the humie spits.

Batting away my tail with a hand, they spin on their heels to face me. "Good lord, you scared the dickens outta me! Wh-- Don't prowl around like that!--"

"How nice it is to see you again, Richard dear. Please, excuse us," I say, nodding to the other human. My tail wraps itself around Richard, as I shuffle him off towards a quiet corner of the store.

Rich calls out from over my shoulder as I herd him away from the other humans shopping. "Trish, slow down! I gotta-- Uh, sorry! I-I'll be right back!"

I find a nice vacant spot besides the appliances aisle to seclude ourselves in. Richard looks me up and down with a distasteful frown, noticing my dress ( or lack thereof ). "Skip laundry day, I take it?" Rich quips.

I cough up a dry laugh, and place a paw on his shoulder. "Ha! Oh, what a comedian you'd make Richie. Does the figure of a beautiful woman intimidate you so? Why, for your wife, I weep."

"Har har har. Y'know I'd just love to practice our minutes on each other Trish, but I have a lot that needs to get done around here today. I don't need to prove that I can out-sass you, so I'll just forfeit ahead of time. What's it you want from me now?"

"Oh please, am I so predictable? That I only come to visit when I'm in need of something? Maybe I'd just like to have a pleasant chat with an old friend," I say, tilting my head.

Richard shrugs. "Well, ok. How's work? How's the kid?"

… I slump. "Ah. Well. Perhaps I can live with being predictable. Never mind us chatting," I continue, swatting the air with my free hand. Rich just rolls his eyes and sighs.

"Tell me, Richard dear. You're still part of the Youth, right?"

Rich scratches his head. "Me? 'Part of the Youth'? At 27? Uh… sure? My friends'd have doubts, but lets just go with 'Yeah'…"

Nodding twice, I continue, "Right. And you're still in touch with our old 'herbalist' hook-up, correct?"

"Gettin' nervous with all this build-up, Trish. Can y'just spit it out already?"

I pull the boy much closer. Face to face. "Cola, dear. The cola. I need more," I plead.

"Oh, for the love a--" Rich pulls away, and digs his forehead into a palm. "Hff. Jeez, lady. Y'already went through the last stuff I lent you?"

I drum my claws against my shopping basket. "Kindly, I'm asking if you have any more to spare. You do, don't you?"

Solemnly, Richard nods. "Yeah yeah, Trishy. Come with me n' I'll grab it…"

Rich turns, and I follow him towards the back of the drugstore. Patiently, I wait for my friend to return from the 'employees only' door, keeping watch outside. A minute later, Richard returns, a green can in each hand. Holding back a squeal, I reach out to take both colas. Richard's hands recoil from my reach.

"Ah ah ah, before you nick these 'n scamper away. Y'gotta promise me something here Trish. I'm happy you come 'n see me and all, but you can't keep buying weed off me while I'm working my shift. If someone sees me doing this, I'd get in some shit."

"Yes, of course. I understand. It's not in my character to stir up trouble. Your wish is my command," I wink.

"Ha, well... I don't mind if you do come to buy. Just make it once in a blue--"

Carelessly, the bag of marshmallows slips out of my shopping basket, flopping to the floor. Oh, how unfortunate and clearly accidental. Why, I'll just bend over and retrieve it from the linoleum. Fortunately, there's no stuffy little humies behind me to ogle at my raised ass. Especially when my tail shifts like so…

"... moon."

I fold back up, letting out a grunt as my spine struggles to straighten. "Ah. You bet. Now, what was this about making your good friend Trisha 'buy' these drinks…?"

Rich catches his jaw hanging, and shakes himself out of his daze. "No, no c'mon. You are buying these. This weird weed stuff is hard to get a hold of, not to mention expensive. They don't just grow off trees--"

I sling a fuzzy arm around Rich's shoulders, locking him close to my side. With a paw, I begin flicking through the text messages of my phone. I navigate to Daria's earlier invitation for a girls night out.

"Y'know dear, a couple girlfriends of mine are going out for a few drinks tonight; A bit of fun. Any interest? If you'd like to tag along, the admission is real cheap. Just two colas ought to do…" I whisper. Eyelashes fluttering.

Rich sniffs, adjusting to the punch of my scent. I can feel the pheromones' simply pouring off the lad as he fidgets under my weight. The human continues to ogle the pic of the two kin women on my phone.

"A-ah… I uh. I dunno…"

He looks between the two cans of Weed Cola in his hands. Then to me.

"... Yeah, screw it. What-- uh, what time?"

In one swift motion, I pocket my phone and both soft drinks into my purse. "I'll text you. I'm sure the girls'll just eat you up, dear," I purr.

Richard grumbles, arms folding. Despite himself, he chuckles, "Sheesh. Y'know, Trishy... life ain't some porno."

I slink closer to Richard, erasing all distance between us. My belly keeps me from standing toe to toe with the human, pressing itself against the man's abdomen. Staring down at him, I loom. Imposing. He stands almost a foot shorter than I, engulfed in my shadow. He shivers, but before he can retreat, I reach out.

I slide two crisp twenty dollar bills into his hand.

"Don't think me a villain, slugger. It's all in good spirit," I chirp, smiling.

I turn, and begin to walk my way back to the self-checkout. My tail lingers around his ankle for a moment, slipping away as I move. Richard fails to find another word. I hear the bills crinkle into his pocket, and he breaks for the opposite direction.

Moving past humie gawkers, I scan the contents of my basket through self-checkout, bagged and ready to return home. It's going to be a long night of paperwork ahead, Trisha, but at maybe we can get through it high. As I return to the drugstore's front entrance to exit into the mall proper, I'm reminded of something queer.

The doors here aren't automatic. They're pull-to-open, with smooth, metal handles. Most times you'd see public places affix rubber grips on the handles of their doors. This helps kin species with weaker grip, such as hooved ungulates. Automatics and rubber grips accommodate for a wide range of kin species.

There's no such amenities to be found here. Some might call it a passive-aggressive way of saying "Humans Only".

Funny that.

-

Out of the drugstore, I enter the expansive hallways of Zellers Place once more. With my shopping now complete, I can already hear the extraneous paperwork of my uni lessons beckoning me home. Plastic shopping bags full of groceries swing by my elbows, and I begin my way back to the parking lot.

The humans tend to keep their distance as I walk. Enough to steer far clear of my path, but not to leave so wide a gap as to make a scene. I can't help but scan their scents as they pass. Though subdued, it's a pleasant smell. Skin. Soap. Sweat. Steering through the crowd of humies, my nose begins to wiggle. Something queer hits my senses.

It's unlike any other smell here. Familiar, yet I can't put a name to it… Distress? I pause, standing still in the middle of the mall. Humans sheepishly maneuver around me as I sniff at the air. My nose drags me to the side of the hallway, and my ears flick. Crying?

I move beside the outlet of the drugstore. Seated on a bench, sobbing into their hands, I find a child.

A kin. A wolf cub. All alone.

My heart leaps. From deep within, my primal 'mother bear' instincts resurface. Without a moment of hesitation, I dive to their side in a panic. I sling my bags to the ground, and kneel before the cub on the bench.

"Oh, god-- Honey. Please, sweetie. Come here--"

Whimpering, the boy raises his muzzle out from his hands. Through teary eyes, he studies me for a moment, processing. His sobs only double, and the little boy falls into me with a desperate hug. I cradle them, gently swaying back and forth on my heels. Tiny claws try their best to crush me closer.

All I can do is calmly whisper into the sweet pup. Comforting, consoling. He's shivering. Ears flat and tail tucked. The boy's clearly in no shape to answer my questions. Yet, there's always olfactory communication.

The pup's been deeply scent marked. Oddly, it's all mom. No smell of dad. Cuss… The thought alone of a fellow single mother separated from her child stirs a couple faint tears from me. I frisk the boy for pheromones ( the origins of some better left unsaid ), and as far as I can tell he's in perfect health. Past his weaning; smells about five or six years old.

That said, there's some strange scent about the cub that I just can't quite put a finger to. It's… male? Too weak to properly identify.

I groom the shivering cub, lapping at the top of the pup's head with short licks. Massaging their back with a paw. Between licks, I continue to whisper calming words.

"You poor, poor thing. There's no need to cry my dear. You're alright. What's wrong, pup? Where's your momma?"

Their bawling begins to lower. Their breathing slows, grip loosening. They continue to hiccup into my chest, blowing their nose into my bra. Doesn't bother me any. Finally, they pull themselves away to look up into me. The wolf's beady little eyes are drowned with tears, and their lip quivers. I bleed for this poor creature, and I must be careful to not cry myself.

Finally, the cub is able to summon the strength to respond. A claw digs into their pockets, and they reveal… a chocolate egg? Voice quavering, the wolf cub speaks.

"I-- I took 'dis. B-but, my dad said I can't ead it, and frew it out… Snff. I tried t' take it back to da store, b-but-- But--"

The wolf turns to the drugstore, and looks like hes ready to burst into tears once more.

I run the back of my paw along their cheek, studying the candy in their hands. "You took this from the store? And then tried to bring it back?" I question. The wolf cub manages a nod.

"Hush, dear. Don't you worry a whisker on your beautiful little head. Miss Fox is here to sort all this out. May I see that?" I say, splaying my palm out towards the boy. The cub stares at the tiny chocolate egg in his hands for a moment, then relinquishes it to me. I raise it to my snout to inspect further. Though melted and crumpled, the label is still legible.

"Kin-der Surprise! Toy inside!"

Oh, good grief. These foul things. Every anthro mother on Farmbook has a story with these awful sweets. I've seen plenty of warnings on the web about how dangerous they are. With a name like "Kin-der Surprise", and the cartoon dog mascot printed on the label, one may think this'd be a product made wholly for kin.

But this is real chocolate. Caffeine. Pure poison for any canines and related species.

How on earth are these still available to the public? I suppose it makes a tiny bit of sense why they'd still be on the shelves of a predominantly human storefront. Fuckin' infuriating.

Holding my embrace on the wolf cub, I scan the crowds of humans. Bystanders quicken their pace around us. They're careful to keep their eyes off the two unsightly beast-folk on their bench. How long has this poor boy sat here, crying? How long has he been in clear distress, yet ignored by these thoughtless humans? Absolutely fucking pathetic, really. But, I must stow my contempt. This isn't about them. The only thing that matters now is seeing this cub to safety.

"Could you tell me your name, dear?" I ask him sweetly.

Sniffling, the wolf squeaks, "Louie..."

"Louie. Kindly, can you help your auntie Fox with something? Would you hold this for me?"

I raise a plastic bag of groceries up to the boy, plenty light for him to carry. A tip for any parent: if you need to distract a child, give them something to do. Especially if it'll have them feel like they're helping. Works on adults, too.

I take the second shopping bag in my own hand, and with my free paw lock hands with the precious cub. "Now, let's get you back to your parents. You said you're here with your… dad?"

Louie nods. My first instinct is to scold the wolf for straying from the alpha, but I think better than to put the tike under any more stress right now. I'll leave the educating for his father to dole out. In a mall of humans, any kin shall be easy to sniff out. Strange that I can't smell any of dad off this Louie boy. No matter.

I guide myself and the cub up to the entrance of the drugstore once more. Louie shivers upon entering, still quite nervous. I take it the poor thing couldn't make it past the doors, to then be stranded alone on the bench. It pains me to even imagine such a thing. Thankfully, the comfort of my presence outweighs his fear of the human crowds inside the store.

"Don't you worry, Louie dear. We'll find your father in a jiffy. But first, I think you deserve a little something to cheer you up. How about a treat that's a little more… edible?"

-

"… an' so, uhm, you haff to shoot d' ende'dwagon wiff a bow am' arrow, my dad said."

Atop my shoulders, Louie crunches on an "Oh Hen-ry" candy bar. A snack of peanut butter and canine safe carob. Dogs and wolves love that peanut butter stuff. Makes sense why I enjoy it too, vulpines being cousins to lupines and all.

I can't help but chuckle as baby boy titters on about their interests from above. "Woooow. That game sounds like a lot of fun, sugar! I think my daughter plays it too," I yip good naturedly.

The cub fidgets, shifting their grip on the scruff of my head to maintain their balance. I've got them in a shoulder carry now, bracing their dangling feet with my hands, shopping bags slung around my elbows. Combined, we create a two-headed tower of fur that rides high above the surrounding humans. Seems I spoke too soon when I mentioned how the humans here look at me funny. Now, as they look upon our giant anthro totem-pole, the passerby's faces of bewilderment are nothing short of cartoonish.

I call up to Louie. "Any signs of papa wolf?"

He pauses to swallow the last of his candy bar before responding. "Nmm… No…"

"Ah, well. Don't worry honey. We'll find him. You know, you should never, ever, ever leave without an adult. Has your daddy taught you that? He's most certainly worried pale about you right now."

Louie sniffs. "… Yea. He got reawy mad when I showed him wha'd I took. I-I tried t' take it back 'cause I didn' wanna get in twouble…"

I shake my head. "Fret not, dearest. It's in the past. Let's just focus on finding this elusive father of yours--"

As we walk, someone crashes into my shoulder. I'm knocked a step back, but my footing holds. Cuss.

I scoff, and pierce the human who so carelessly collided with us a glare so intense, it could shatter glass. The human, some male who'd been too pre-occupied with their phone to watch where they're going, can't even bother with an apology. The human stares at us for a moment, trying to discern what freakish two headed beast they'd bumbled into.

I try to spit, "Watch it, assho--!", but catch myself. No potty mouth around the little one, Trisha. You dolt. My frustration evaporates as the human disappears into the crowd.

Ghgh. "Louie, where is it you saw your father last again?"

"We wuh in da' shoe stowe... Wooking at shoews."

"… You mean the shoe store we walked past five minutes ago?"

"Yea!" Louie adds, cheerfully. My brow twitches just once. Of course. With a sigh, I twirl to double back the way we came. That would've been good to know before I continued down the wrong direction, but I digress.

I spin around to chart a course the way we came. We're forced to move against the flow of the human crowds now; They march forward as we push back. Like salmon upstream. My paws remain wrapped around Louie's ankles, trying to hold him steady as we brush against the masses. The humans try their best to avoid us, but the crowd is getting denser. It's prime-time in the mall now, and the halls are growing in activity.

My spine begins to ache. This feeble, flabby body of mine isn't what it used to be. I'm much stronger than this gut may lead you to believe, but I'm rather lacking in the stamina department. I can feel my endurance dwindling; the effort to balance Louie on my shoulders and keep the groceries in my arms weighing on me. Literally. Still, I soldier on, bumping past human after human.

As the cub and I try to move against the flow of traffic in the hallway, the humans do more than just stare. Snide comments from the peanut gallery return en masse. Questioning my presence. Mocking my appearance. My scent. I think these baldies are the true children here--

Ow, ow, ow…! Louie slips, tugging on the tuft of fur on my scalp. I bite my tongue, shrugging off the pinch.

I try my best to ignore the human's remarks, fixating on the drone of footsteps and chatter from the crowd. Annoyingly, my senses are too sharp for my own good -- I can hear every scathing comment about us.

My brow twitches twice.

I can feel my heart beating faster. I shake, fur bristling. I scowl, fangs grinding. My pace slows, then halts altogether. Noisy, impolite, and downright uncouth bodies begin to flow around the pup and I. Like a stone breaking the river's surface. Involuntarily, my claws grip tighter on Louie's ankles.

The boy calls from above. "Miss Fowx? Miss Fowx--"

It's taking everything in me to hold back the urge to rip into these snide fucking baldies. I can't even move, from both the box of people surrounding us and the mounting anger paralyzing me.

Come on, Trisha. Don't freak out. Don't freak out. You can't lose it here -- You just can't. For gods sake, not while holding a child. Just, relax--

Something touches me from behind. Not just the brushing of shoulders. A hand of smooth skin. Grabbing my bicep.

My posture hardens. My body shudders violently. That's it-- That's fuckin' it. Being groped is where I draw the fucking line. I release a hand from Louie's ankle to splay my claws. I spin around, snarling, fully prepared to gut the obtuse bastard who dare touch me--

"Papa!" the cub cheers.

-- Papa?

I stop. I'm facing the human now, claw outstretched and fangs bare. His hand remains suspended in the air, trying to recoil from my arm. He gawks at my predatory display, as both of us stand frozen.

The man calls, his voice cracking. "Son! Oh, thank god you're okay!"

… Oh.

-

Scrrrp. Scrrrp. The wolf cub fiddles with the velcro straps of his new sandals. He bounces on his father's lap, who holds him tightly. I can sense the man's heart race, eyes red and puffy. Awkwardly, I twiddle my thumbs next to the pair, staring out into the crowds beyond from our bench.

I'm, ah… I'm unsure of what to even say. Words totally escape me. Louie's father is understandably preoccupied, lecturing the cub. Louie's human father.

"… and son, if you DO ever get lost somewhere, you know to wait at the entrance, right? And I'll come find you? Like we talked about?"

"Yesss daaad. I'm sowry," Louie sniffs.

"Please, don't you EVER scare me like that again, buddy. You just about gave your poor pops a heart attack," the man says, stroking his sons head. The human musters up a wide grin and turns to face me.

"Now, I think this kind lady needs a big thanks from you, puppup!"

Louie raises up a foot to his face, hiding behinds his new shoes. Shyly, they squeak, "Thaaank yew Miss Fowx!"

I smile in kind. "No need to thank me, dear. Seeing you safe and sound is all I can ask," I say.

The man chimes in. "Really, thanks. From me as well. God, I-- Thank you , so, so much. I'm forever grateful you did what you did." He's holding back tears, wiping his eyes dry with a thumb. "Miss Fox, is it?"

"That's right," I affirm. "Trisha Fox. Please, just call me Trisha."

"I could sit here and thank you all day Trisha, but I think we've bothered you enough! Haha! The name's Hugh, by the way. And, uh-- thank you."

How cute. Hugh and his little Lou. … his son. This human has a kin son.

"Really, it's no trouble at all. I must say, I wasn't expecting to find another kin here at Zellers of all places. Especially not one so adorable," I add with a pinch of the boy's fluffy cheek.

"Tell me though, Hugh. How'd your son wander off exactly? I found them sitting on a bench, alone. Louie tells me he was trying to return a chocolate…?"

Hugh sighs. "Ah, well, yes. For context, momma wolf sent us out to the mall to pick up some new shoes for baby Louie here. We stopped by the drug store first, and I guess the little booger here swiped a treat from the shelves. I only caught him with it later when we made it to the shoe store. I've told him, chocolate is a BIG no-no, haven't I Louie?" He waggles a finger at his son. The cub ducks his father's judgement, chewing on the sole of his new shoe.

Hugh continues, "I was trying on a pair of sneakers myself, and while I was talking to the clerk, I guess he just-- slipped away. Fished the thing out of the garbage and went halfway across the mall to put the egg back. I just about died when I realized he was gone. I-I thought… I thought-- ah. Forget it."

He stops, gets a grip under his sons arms, and lifts the boy up to the sky. Holding him proudly to the ceiling, Louie giggling all the while.

"I'll give ya points for bein' bold, son! Your heart was in the right place, trying to return what ya took. But you shouldn't have stolen it in the first place, ok buddy? Stealing is wrong. Running off on your own is VERY wrong! So don't you DARE scare your poor old pops like that again!"

Hugh embraces his son, the both of them lost in a fit of giggling.

A warm smile stirs itself to my face, as I'm reminded of my own little pup. I can perfectly picture Toby at Louie's age. So small. Always smiling, always beaming with joy. Just like this sweet cub.

I can't bear to imagine myself in Hugh's shoes. To have their child run off on their own. To lose their pup, becoming so suddenly and terribly alone.

Well… I suppose I can imagine. I can more than imagine.

Cuss.

A short, hairless finger taps me on the shoulder. I snap back to attention, looking to Hugh. He seems concerned. "You, uh… you alright? Look, miss-- or uh, Trisha. I'm so, so sorry about all this. I feel like an absolute buffoon for letting my son get away from me. I don't mean for this to bother you."

I sigh, faking a fresh smile. "Please, dear, there's really no need to apologize. But, I do have a question, if you don't mind. Is Louie… yours?"

Hugh blinks. "Oh. You mean, like-- my son? My blood? Well… yes. He is. And I'm damn proud to say it. I don't care what anyone else might think. I love my kids, and I love my wife, regardless of any specist bull--"

Louie stares.

"…malarkey. Haha."

That's certainly something you don't see every day. A human and kin couple? Conceiving? Those are muddy waters indeed… Social implications aside, human and kin offspring are known to be at high risk of medical complications. Birth defects. Genetic disease. I think better than to verbalize any of that, of course. I'm sure Hugh knows plenty.

Despite that, Hugh's happy. Louie's happy-- If not a bit shaken with the fresh scare. Simply, he seems like a loving father with a gorgeous son. I suppose Hugh isn't too shabby in the 'looks' department himself. He's rather handsome, for a human. I sniff all along Hugh, who seems unperturbed from my curiosity. I suppose if he truly does have a kin wife, he's become adjusted to having their scent inspected.

That mysterious scent I gleamed off of the cub earlier, that male-ish smell-- Sitting next to Hugh has given me clarity. It's his scent. Louie had his father's scent all along, only I failed to properly identify it. The nuances of human scents are lost upon me. It's not the typical musk of an alpha wolf.

Yet, here he is. Louie's alpha. A human man.

… Curious. I adjust my bra.

Hugh coughs into his fist, looking on into the crowd. "You know Trisha, ah, don't take this the wrong way, but-- I'm glad you're so personable. You're surprisingly well-spoken. There's a lot of weirdos out there these days. And well, when I saw my son with another kin in a place like this… I feared for the worst. And, uhm. With the way you're, uhh, d-dressed,"

I interrupt him with a raised paw. "I understand. You expected the anthro woman walking around in nothing but her bra and bootcuts to be some tawdry, meretricious trollop."

Hugh blinks once more. "Sorry. A what in the what now?" he asks, scratching his bald head.

I slip a claw under my garment and itch my boob. "Pardon my grandiloquence. In other words, you assumed I was some trashy slut."

" No! No no no no no! I didn't mean it like that!" Hugh explodes, hands flailing. I can't help but laugh as the humie flounders for softer words.

"Oh please, honey. I'm none too bothered. I'll take exceeding your expectations as a good thing." I clasp my hands, and fold my chin down onto the bridge of my paws.

"You know, when you "assume", you make an 'ass' out of 'u' and 'me'."

That gets Hugh to laugh along with me. Louie slaps a hand over his mouth as I swear, giggling uncontrollably.

"Oops," I peep. "Sorry. Don't mean to swear around this little monster," I state, outstretching my claws to give Louie a tickle.

Both myself, Hugh, and Louie lose ourselves chuckling. Uncaring of the looks from those passing by. A chime from the speaker system of the mall interrupts our commotion.

"The time is now 5:00 PM. Zellers Place shall be closing it's doors in fifteen minutes. Thank you for shopping with us, and have a wonderful day."

Our chuckling dims, and we find ourselves in silence. Hugh begins to rise from his seat, but then-- Something stirs me to action.

Sympathy? Desperation? … Loneliness? Detached from my movements, my body moves on it's own accord. Words worm themselves out of my muzzle clumsily.

"Wait, Hugh. Would you, ah. Could I… give you my number? Perhaps invite you to, dinner…? Sometime?"

Hugh stops. He just stares at me, blankly. Clearly uncomfortable, he mumbles. "Ah. Well, uhm. I don't-- uh…" he scratches the back of his head. As his hand raises, the ring on his finger gleams. Dumbly, I realize only now how sad and retarded my attempt must truly seem. An attempt at I don't even know what. My tail dips low.

Stupid. Fucking stupid, Trisha. Backpedal.

"No-- No, you're fine. That was silly of me to say. I think today's excitement has scrambled my thoughts a bit, hah… I'll ask no more of your time, honey." I rise to my feet, stretching with a groan. I scoop up my grocery bags once more.

Hugh's forehead wrinkles, trying to find something to say. "… Right. Again, thank you so much."

I bow my head to the pair. "Have a wonderful evening, you two. Until we meet again."

Hugh nods, and Louie waves as I turn towards the parking lot's direction.

"Bye bye auntie Fox!" the boy chimes.

That little boy's smile lingers in my mind the whole way home.

-

Loudly, I belch. Phew. The release is pure catharsis. Now in the comfort of my home once more, I've no need to hold back.

From my apartment's sliding patio door, I find the sun setting once more. The sky has become a brilliant gradient of orange and magenta. Another day becomes another night. And what a day it was! Returning a lost child, meeting a human and kin father and son? Such a sight has even odds with being struck by lightning. What a memory this'll make.

And a memory it will forever remain. It's time to move forward with my plans for the night. There's plenty of paperwork to tend to; Plenty of final exams to prepare. Soon, I shall be lulled to sleep by my exam prep, tucked in with a homework pillow. I'm tempted to slug down one of my Weed Colas already, but I know better. I'll need to ration them for the coming week of finals at Flocc.

Hobbled over my fridge, I stuff my groceries away haphazardly. Doing so, I can feel my phone begin to vibrate from the butt pocket of my jeans. Someone's calling. Leaning on the door of my freezer, I pull out my phone to see what the fuss is about--

Oh. Oh my god.

Toby-- It's Toby! She's calling me?!

What-- I-- holy fuck. Ok, get a grip Trisha. I can feel my blood pressure spike, and I stumble as the head rush hits me. Physically, the surprise strikes me, and I must be careful not to trip over myself. Paws quake as my daughter waits on the other end.

Why now? What's with all the inordinate activity today? Has some great cosmic alignment been cast down on this old fox--? Christ, Trisha, there's no time to delay! Answer already!

I nearly drop my phone in the excitement, index claw shaking as it tries to hit the 'pick-up' button on the tiny screen, whiffing twice. My clawtip connects on the third strike.

Click.

"Hiya mom! It's--"

" Tobias. Diana. Fox." My words drop like a hammer. "Just where on earth have you been?"

"Uhh, at my friend's house, duh! Remember?"

I smack my forehead with a palm. "Yes, my little space cadet, I know that! I'm perfectly aware! But, you-- uhg."

I stomp about the apartment, pacing. After a long day on my feet at the mall, I'm much in need of some time on the couch, off my aching paws. But I'm far too energized now.

"I've been trying to have a talk with you for weeks, dear, but you keep avoiding my messages. It's been a rather frustrating ordeal for your poor mother," I cough.

Toby shuffles on the other side of the phone. "Uhm, well, I'm not trying to avoid you mom, I just--"

"You're not trying to avoid me? Toby, you're living in someone else's home! Without my permission! Text messages aside, can you not see what might be wrong with that? Why that might aggravate your mother?"

"W-well, I'm calling you now, right? Let's talk then, ok! Jeez…" Toby hums.

Hrmmph. I do want nothing more than to talk with my daughter again. Preferably on better terms, but alas. Let's just put the hostility aside for a moment, Trish.

"Yes, well. I need to know that you're alive, Toby dear. I mean-- Are you eating? Are you healthy? Are you feeling well?"

"Yup! Fit as a fiddle! I mean, uh, I've mostly just been eating pizza every night. But like, pizza's pretty healthy right? It's got… vegetables. And stuff."

I drag my claws down my face, holding back a scream. " Tobias , you're killing your poor mother here. Please, dear, I've been so strung out since you've left the apartment. I don't… I--"

I lose my words, and Toby cuts in as I pause. "Mom. Are you mad at me?"

"No shit, Tobias!-- Ah. I mean, no. No, of course I'm not mad dear… I could never stay mad at you. Truly. Mommy is just-- I'm so worried about you, dear. Is it me? Have I done something to push you away? Was it something I said, or, or what?"

Toby sighs. "No, momma, it's not you. I, uhm-- I don't know. I've lived with you so long, and now that I've graduated, I feel like now's the time to try something new. To make changes and explore. I want to see more of the world, ma. I want… I want an adventure!" my daughter yips across the phone, cheerily.

"But when I left, I feel like I made you mad. I mean, I know you're mad. No duh you're mad. I'm not stupid," Toby scoffs. No comment. "But like, I'm scared you really hate me. And, ah, I don't know… It feels kinda hard to talk to you. I feel really guilty for leaving and stuff.

But! I'm having a really great time! And I'm making lots of plans for school and stuff! So, y'know, don't even worry!"

My voice cracks, "But I do worry, dear. My worries keep me awake at night. About work. About you. I'm glad you're in good spirits, of course. And I'd give anything in this world for you to stay happy, honey. From the day I brought you into this world, I've been fighting for just that. To give you a better future. All I desire is to give you a better life than I've had."

My voice quivers. I blink away the tears.

"So much has happened in my life. And I just-- I feel like a fucking failure , Toby. Every day, I keep fighting. And most days, I feel like I'm losing. Your father wasn't there for us. Now your grandma, my mom, she's… she's gone.

And now I'm losing you."

I pull my phone away. I don't want Toby to hear me cry. I try my best to swallow it down, to push these thoughts back into the corners of my mind. But the sadness lodges itself in my throat like a stone.

Toby is quiet for a long moment. I slide open my patio door, and step outside. I need air.

"Mom…" Toby starts. Her tone is unusually dire. "I'm still here. I'm on your team one-hundred percent, forever and always! Don't you ever think you're gonna get rid of me, ok? You're stuck with me now and forever!" Toby cheers, her pride bleeding over the phone.

"I love you, momma. Don't think any different! Like, I have you to thank for everything. For having me. For taking care of me. You've given me so much, mom, I… I want to make it right. I wanna make you proud. Really! Like, more than anything on the planet, I wanna validate how hard you've worked for me. If I can get an education, get some cool job, get married, just thrive… Everything'll be worth it, right?"

I sniff, "… Right. Yes, of course, honey. That's all I can hope for. More than anything, I just want to see you happy. I love you, Toby. I've been worried sick thinking about you. About the future. But now, god… It's such a relief to even hear your voice. Thank you for calling me, dear.

Now, was that so hard? To talk to your flippin' mother!? God, don't make mommy worry so damn much!" My shouting falls apart into laughter, and Toby joins me.

From my apartment patio, the glow of the sun falls upon me once more. Two kin, mother and daughter, joined in laughter. Our tiny family sharing the moment.

Toby chirps, "Sorry for keeping you hanging. I'll try and call more often, momma! But, ah, there is another reason I called..."

I dry my eyes with a claw. "What is it, love? You can tell me anything. Anything at all."

"Well, ah, so I'm staying at Madison's place, right,"

"… Again, no shit dear, but go on."

"Well! Y'see, their house is kinda getting… fumigated? For bugs and stuff? Sooooo is it okay if we come stay at your apartment for a while?"

"We--?"

"Okgreatwe'recomingtomorrowthanksmombyeloveyou!!!"

"Wait, what--?!"

Click. Toby hangs up. Pfft. Oh, my sweet Toby. You cute little snot. Such a character.

I stare out from my patio into the city below. The sun begins to dip lower and lower, as night descends. A cool breeze ruffles my fur. I breathe in the crisp air of the evening and watch the sunset melt away.

Just fine. I'll be just fine.

-

Vrrm. My phone vibrates in my hand. Oh, come on. What now?

It's a text from Daria again.. Whoops. Forgot to warn the girls I was sending Richard their way. Well, I'm sure they'll be fine.

… I look to the piles of papers and folders on my coffee table. I know I said I'd be much too busy with work to join, but… Fuck it. I'll do it all tomorrow.

Toby's coming home. That's certainly deserving of some celebration.

I swipe up my purse, and race out the door once more.