FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The cool autumn breeze blows through Hans' long silver hair. He watches the trade sea's bustling activity as sails of every color and pattern imaginable. The wagon he and Freja has travelled the world in sits idly to the side of their home. He recalls his life, smiling at the memory of Asen and Kemaslan's last visit to him last winter, and he excitedly waits for their next. He lets out a tired yawn before grabbing his cane and heading towards the house.

Inside Freja is excitedly carrying a pie made from some berries from Hans' old home hold all while gracefully carrying their ninth and tenth children in her womb. The wolfess turns to Hans beaming with the energy her youth provides just before she can speak the oldest of their children, Alard Ivo Woeda, is wearing his father's old armor which clinks around the small frame of the boy barges into the room. The young Alard runs to his father grinning ear to ear but missing a few of his baby teeth.

“Father you would not believe what lieutenant Antone taught me today!" He excitably says.

Hans raises and eyebrow and turns to his son. “And what might that be today?" He asks investing in what his son has to say.

Alard is nearly jumping with joy as he begins to tell of the morning training session. “Well, we started just before dawn when he brought out the billhooks. It was just me and Bram and were told that we had to better protect ourselves without using armor and we had until midday meal to make our improvements!" He says before running into the living room of the home.

Hans looks to his wife once more, gives her a wink, shakes his head as if in disbelief, and follows the young Alard. He thinks of his younger sons and daughters who are off at school for the day, he wonders what the twins are up to learning Norse and Frasen to both read and write it, something that doesn't come cheap here in outside of Laenice but it is hardly of note of Han's finances with how many wharfs he owns down at the port in the city proper. The rest of the children, as young as they are, were request by King of his old home, to be taught there by Asen's tutors and the King's. The Alard may inherit all the land in Normae, but Hans Junior was to be the one to inherit the holdings in the Keep, and Warwyk was to be raised in the court of Asen but would remain in the keep until he was old enough to ride a horse. Hagan, the boy of the twins older was to cross the sea to the Vecric Kingdom where he is to be raise among them.

Hans sits on his velvet covered chair letting out a sigh of relief as he lets himself sink into the cloud-like softness of it. Freja soon comes to sit between his legs, sitting back onto Hans' body the two lean their heads together, Hans rubbing his cheek on Freja's soft, rosemary smelling fur. “I see you used the soap I bought you" Hans remarks.

Freja runs one of her soft pawed hands across Hans' face. “To think we'd have ever wound up like this Sir “Buzkani" she says giggling at the name. Hans places both of his hands over Freja's stomach, hoping to feel the kicks of his unborn children. Freja looks up to him, and Hans gives her a quick kiss on her forehead. Rather than talk the two watch Alard show off his skills with his imaginary billhook, clinking around in the far too large armor. Both Hans' and Freja have their critique on his form but neither care to fix it, Alard's future doesn't rely on his skill with a polearm, not with how much effort Hans and Freja have put into preparing their family for success. House Woeda was always a minor house, but now? At least it had some recognition.

Looking over Freja, her larger bosom, her wider hips, and the slight amount of pudge she's gained over her five successful pregnancies not to mention the loss of the brown in her fur to the gray. It makes him think of the daughter's he has sired, how they, unlike any Vulfan or wolfess before them, have a future in the courts of the world as nobles rather than slave-bodyguards or mercenaries. Sigrid and Thora are away at the keeps learning to read and write, in fact Sigrid has a betrothed within the Keep to house Baelod's eldest son. Thora has been taken under Kemaslan's wing to help their Khaganate grow. Sif and Eir were in town being school as well today. He thinks of his little wolfen daughters and his human sons, such bright futures, one he would have never made for anyone without meeting this wolfess on a battlefield nearly two decades ago.

Freja gets up and heads into the library for a moment before returning to her spot just in front of Hans on the chair with a large book. “The Great Revolt" she reads aloud.

“I don't recall ever purchasing that book." Hans sheepishly remarks.

“Oh, I didn't buy it my mate." She says with a degree of smugness in her voice.

“Then where'd you get it dear?" Hans asks keeping up his sheepish tone.

“A rather kind lady in town had given it to me, and I'll say no more." She says knowing Hans know the woman who gave it to her.

As Freja begins to read the story of how the scaled ones turned on the Elves during the war. Describing it from the Scaled one's point of view. The two of them stop periodically and reminisce about the colorful spice filled cities of the Scale River and the mangroves around it. Rather than get up and try to dance like they would normally, Hans begins to doze off between the softness of his chair the warm fur of his wife. Freja beckons one of the servants to bring a blanket over and she joins her husband in his afternoon nap while one of the servant's sons and Alrard begin their own duel of heroes in the courtyard in front of the home with long wooden sticks.

Freja rests Hans' head on her own and puts her hands over his. She thinks about how much work Hans still does. She know the thinks it isn't too much, or much at all. She looks to the gold bracelets on her hands, how they're made to look as if they're braided. For every daughter she's had she has ruby and for every son an emerald, the way it was in her tribe but with coral and jade beads. She relaxes herself, allowing her back to arch to shape of Hans. Soon the servant returns with a blanket and gives it to Freja before returning to her tasks.

“Feel free to take a bit of the pie Annae." Freja whispers to the servant girl.

Annae gives Freja a smile and returns to her work. Freja closes her eyes and begins to work the blanket over her body, making sure to carefully move Hans' hands over the blanket and tucks it into the crease of the chair. She places her hands over his, feeling the now soften scars that were once so calloused by thick leather gloves, the rope needed to steer the horses, and every tool he had to use during his younger years. She looks at him again. “greymuzzle" she thinks to herself, smiling gently. She can feel her eyelids grow heavy and soon joins her lover, friend, mentor, and mate, in sleep.