FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Weeks passed. How many weeks? Mark wasn't sure. Mark wasn't sure, not Calina, Mark. She refused to think of herself under that name. She was still Mark in her heart and soul. She wasn't going to let that be changed in a strange naming ceremony by a people she had only begun to understand. It was confusing enough that she was thrown into the midst of a sabon that was in charge of the summer duties, she didn't need to be wrestling with a new name as well. As it was, she was busy enough that she didn't have to look too closely at her own feelings regarding her name change. Her time of healing was gone, now she was thrown into the midst of the life of the village with a vengeance that left her gasping for a chance to breathe.

The day after the party she had awoken fuzzy brained and confused in the small place she had thought of as her home, but she hadn't been alone. Another grey squirrel had been there waiting for her to wake up with a grin on the slightly aging features. Banich had been beside herself with happiness to see Mark awake and had announced that today would start her duties in the sabon. She had been dragged out of the bed, spent a good half an hour watching Banich trying not to grin at her fitting her top over her breasts and another two hours running through the tree tops behind the strange grey squirrel. It was a day that she spent observing the sabon at work. Kitch had shown up around noon with food and a shy smile.

She spent weeks watching her sabon work and finding out what they did and why. It was fascinating, but it left her feeling restless and confused. She didn't want to be a part of a sabon, at least she didn't think she did. When she was alone she tried to figure out a way back home or a way to change herself back to what she was, but during the day it was harder. During the day she often found herself watching others work or helping where she could. Kitch appeared more often than not to help her and explain things as they went. She took her friend's presence for granted more and more often. Only he seemed to know that she was still afraid and still confused by the changes in her life. After she had spent time watching and even helping so many others in her sabon, Hatcha had turned her over to Banich as her sabon-he, her teacher.

It had taken Kitch nearly two hours to try and explain what a sabon-he was, and she still wasn't entirely sure she knew. The best thing she could come up with was that it was a specialized teacher of sorts. She got the feeling that it was something else, but she couldn't figure it out. There were connotations that she didn't grasp. She had never been that adept at understanding social status and positions without spending time watching and observing. In the end, she had been forced to trust her friend. He hadn't led her wrong yet; in fact he had done so much to make sure that he helped her that she often felt strangely guilty that she was taking so much of his time. His reassurances had been the only reason she'd been willing to go with Banich and give it a try.

"I'm an herbalist, Calina." The grey female grinned slightly as Mark leapt down from one of the branches and followed her towards the outskirts of the village. "I'm not a shaman or a healer, those are skills I don't possess, though I work closely with them. I understand the summer growths and which herbs I need to gather at their most potent state to store for the fall and winter. I also know how to grow and cultivate."

"I don't know anything about herbs." Mark confessed and leapt after the older squirrel as she ran down a tree upside down.

That was one feat that Mark hadn't tried yet and had no wish too. If she had to go down a tree, she was going to go rump first and that was that! She skidded down the bark and heard a bruxing sound of amusement coming from Banich. Well, she just amused the hell out of everyone with her bizarre top and strange ways, but there was no help for it!

"You'll learn. You show a talent for it already." Banich gestured and Mark shifted the pouch off her shoulder and dropped it in front of her foot paws. "You have patience and a quick mind. You'd be wasted gathering and hunting, I think. You could work as a healer, but I think that you would be happier with this work. It requires one to be alone sometimes and I have seen your discomfort with large groups."

"I suppose so.. I've just never tried to grow anything before." Mark winced a little bit. Well that was a lie, she had tried to grow some plants in her apartment and they had lasted less than a weak.

"Good! Then I shall teach you from the start." Banich grinned and ran her paws just under one of the roots. "It's always so much easier when one can start from the beginning and this is the very start for you. Hatcha is a wise Sabon, she mentioned that it would be good for you to learn a trade sooner rather than later. Normally we only have young ones join the sabon and they are placed in classes as a group."

"At least I wasn't stuck in a class with children." Mark watched as Banich pulled out a handful of blue-grey moss and placed it in the bag before going back for more.

"You would have been unhappy there. If you do not enjoy this life you might change it to something else." Banich glanced at her and pulled out a second paw-full of this moss. "Now, time for learning, Calina. This is rabbit-ear. This is a sort of moss that we often use to pack wounds because once it is dried it becomes absorbent and will draw infection. But it is a strange plant and if it is not properly dried out it can contaminate a wound. Now rabbit-ear only grows-"

Mark flicked her ears up and assumed an attentive stance as the older squirrel began to talk about the moss and she kept her eyes focused on what was being spoken about. It took some effort, but at least it gave her something to occupy her mind with. Lately, that was what she badly needed. Her thoughts were strange and tumbled about wildly until she wasn't entirely sure she could trust what she was feeling or thinking. It seemed as if she had left the human world years ago instead of merely two months ago. It seemed like another lifetime ago, and perhaps it really was. Sometimes it was hard even to remember what she had been in that other world.

"Calina! You will pay attention." Banich clacked her teeth together and Mark jerked her attention to the sabon-he.

"Yes, sabon-he." She murmured softly and gave her head a shake to throw away errant thoughts. If she could pay attention in some of the lectures she got in college, she could stand to hear about the native herbs here. It could prove useful.

~ ~ * ~ ~

The days she studied beneath Banich were strangely enjoyable in a way that went beyond the wild laughter at the party or the feel of completing a job. The older squirrel reminded her of a professor she had once had who had always seemed bland and serious. His features had always been set in a solemn face that made his students walk on eggshells the first few classes, but soon enough they figured it out. That solemn face hid a bizarre since of humor that was so shocking to hear coming out of a mouth that wasn't grinning or twitching with an effort to laugh, that some denounced the idea of him actually knowing he was joking and insisted it was truth. Banich had a sneaky sense of humor just like that and it took Mark a while to catch on, but once she had the time working with her was a pleasure.

When she wasn't sitting in a room feeling sorry for herself, she was learning; and in the human world she had excelled at that. Listening to someone that was older and took the role of a teacher made her feel as if she had reclaimed a part of herself. She had always fit in so much better in a classroom than she ever had within social situations. She had impressed most of her teachers there with her quick mind. Here, she was a bit abashed to find out that she stumbled and tripped over what was being taught at times because she also had the knowledge from her home world stuck in her head. When she was shown something like rosemary she had dismissed it as that plant and it had taken a few times and one memorable rap from Banich's tail to get her to really listen and understand what it was. She found herself strangely happy in the forest and starting to pick up things on her own, much to the approval of her teacher.

It was only at night that the doubts came. It was at night when nightmares haunted her of the way she had found her way here and what she was. At night she would toss and turn in her covers as she dreamed or she would lie awake and contemplate everything that happened. No matter how much laughter was found during the day, at night the smiles died and she was left feeling alone and sick for a place that she understood. A place that she came from, and knew inside-out. At night her doubts about this place gnawed at her mind. Sometimes she convinced herself that she had been knocked unconscious and all that she was experiencing was a dream. Other times she believed she was being used as a guinea pig by the government she had worked at. Sometimes she snarled at the idea of Kitch and the shaman and decided they had done it on purpose. And some nights she cried. She buried her muzzle into her pillow and short sobs welled up into her throat as she realized there was no going back.

One night she cried until her fur was matted down and she felt half sick. Her stomach was twisted in knots and she licked her lips until she tasted the salt of her tears. She had woken up from a nightmare and it had ended with the realization that nothing would be the same again. It left her chest feeling heavy as she finally kicked the covers off her body and pulled on clothes before leaving her small home. She didn't want to be indoors. She didn't want to remain in the small stuffy room with only her thoughts. She didn't want to spend another sleepless night feeling despair and anger at her situation. Neither of which she could change.

_I hate this. I never had insomnia before, but I can't remember the last time I slept the night through. _ She shook herself out as she set her paws to a tree and pulled herself up, feeling the cool night air dry the wet fur of her cheeks.

It was nearing the end of summer. Hatcha had been quite firm that she would be studying all winter as well, but summer was when they did most of their work. The forest had started to have small cold snaps that heralded the changing of the seasons and she had watched others of the sabon starting to relax and joke around with the next seasons guards. They laughed and showed anticipation for the times they would be given a certain measure of calm now that they had pushed through the summer. That was another thing that baffled her. These creatures didn't war against each other over which sabon was the one that should rule all. There was good natured ribbing, but she'd never seen any of tension that would clue her in as to one that felt they were superior. It was unnatural. At least, it would have been unnatural if she had been in the human world.

Mark flicked her ears down flat as she made a quick dart up the tree in the dark. She had been in this body long enough that she felt sure of her grip and the way she was able to balance on the tips of her fingers and toes so that she didn't fall. Her powerful haunches helped as she climbed high enough that the tree branches began to grow thinner. The exercise did her good, but it didn't chase away the ghosts that haunted her so often at night.

I agree with some of what they teach, but some I don't. They seem to have a society that runs well and smoothly, but it doesn't make sense. She dropped down onto a relatively thick branch and sat down with a sigh. Even wild animals have a top dog, but they aren't trying for it. And they should. Is it always this way or is it just something they're showing me and hiding the rest.

_ _

She mulled over the thoughts of this being an elaborate scheme while she stared at the silvered forest. Her eyes half closed and she finally dismissed her conspiracy theories as the laden feeling of being lost filled her and she sighed. She was lost. She didn't have a direction, not really. She felt as if she were going through the motions that she was supposed to go through and only time would prove that it was false. How long before she cracked? Could she be like this forever? Her stomach turned, as it so often did as she contemplated that. During the day she could enjoy it as something new and challenging. Something to distract her before the next big thing caught her eye, but at night she knew that wasn't the case. This would be her life. Alone in the midst of a group of creatures she could barely understand.

She was aware of Kitch before he came within hailing distance. His form darted up the tree with his tail wildly flicking about to balance him. The moonlight and darkness washed out the color of his fur, but she recognized him from the slight body and the way that he ran along the tree trunk. He had a strange gait that pushed his hind legs up to almost touch his forepaws before he pushed upwards again. She'd come to know that gait well.

"Marrck?" Kitch blinked in the moonlight as he came up onto the branch. He, for one, never called her Calina. How he knew it bothered her, Mark didn't know, but she was grateful that he cared. "I saw you running up. Is all alright?"

"You know it's not." She sighed and leaned back on her hand paws as Kitch watched her and dropped down beside her. "How do you know when I can't sleep? Do you stare at my door all night?"

"No." Kitch clicked his teeth together playfully. "But you always run past my home and I hear you clattering across the roof. No one else does that, but you."

"Oh.. Damn.." Mark flattened her ears. "I didn't mean to wake you up so often, it was just easier than going all the way across the trunk to the walk ways."

"I do not mind." Her friend leaned back and tilted his head up to look at the sky. "I would rather be awakened and give you company then let you be unhappy and alone. What kept you awake tonight, Marrck? Banich is very happy with how you have been working. Hatcha has been telling me that she praises you often."

Mark drew her legs up and rested her chin on her knees with a twitch of her tail. Her mind jumbled with thoughts and she finally puffed out a sound that was part sigh and part laughter. "I'm lonely, I guess. I know it sounds stupid, but sometimes at night I just can't stop my mind from thinking and everything is so different."

"Home sick." Kitch bared his teeth in a grimace. "When I was little and came here I felt much the same. This was not what I was used to and I was unhappy with so many strangers. It made me unhappy, but at night everything is greater. The darkness surrounds you and the sounds of daylight are gone away so it can be hard with only your own thoughts, yes?"

"Perceptive." Mark gave him a slightly bitter smile. The red squirrel normally was perceptive. At least, most of the time. "I want to do the things I was trained to do, but there's nothing here that they would work well with. I know how to make weapons, but I've been told you don't wish them. I can make chemical compounds, but I don't know half the things here. And even past that, I want to do the things I used to do. I work every day and sometimes I would give anything even for stupid reality shows or even an old Nintendo to take my mind off things at night!"

"Nintendo." Kitch puzzled out the words and furrowed his brow a little bit. "That was a herb that would help you sleep?"

The puzzled question paired with the comical expression surprised a laugh out of Mark. She shook her head and leaned back before she started to try and explain what they were to Kitch. At first he looked at her with interest and tried to repeat back some of the English words for things with varying amounts of success. But as she spoke about a few of the consoles she had played on, she found herself trailing to computers and the internet. Two things she missed even more then the distraction of a TV or gaming system. All of that information that she could look up with the tap of a button and get an answer almost immediately. The ability to store her thoughts without trying to scratch it out on beaten bark paper and rough ink that would likely harden and fade away within a few years times.

She'd done it before. She'd mused about things she missed when Kitch prompted her, but as before, Kitch's eyes turned a bit glazed as she continued to talk. He let her talk because he'd unleashed a fountain of words that needed to be said, not because he understood them. Mark knew what he was doing, but even so she continued to speak in a soft voice. She kept her chin tucked against her knees as she found herself trailing off as her throat began to tighten. Hatcha had told her that she had been born again, and that was true in some ways, but for the first time she realized it had also been a death; A death of her knowledge, education, job, talents and even her manhood. She stopped talking and squeezed her eyes shut as they began to water.

"Marrck..." Kitch shifted and one of his paws came up to rest against her arm. "You have spoken often about what you miss..."

"I'm sorry..." She stiffened under his touch and took the words as a criticism. "You're right, I need to stop bothering you-"

"NO!" Her friend snapped the word out almost loud enough to echo through the trees. "No, you are no bother! That is not what I meant when I said you speak of these things often. What I mean is, you speak of loss and sorrow, but you never speak of what you enjoy here. Is there no good here? Nothing that makes you think of this place with fondness? Or is it only loss?"

Mark blinked a little as she heard the young male's voice changing slightly. It grew softer, almost a whisper past the first assertion that she wasn't bothering him. She flicked her ears up and frowned slightly as she opened her mouth and then closed it as she tried to find an answer. Was she only missing her home and what she had? Was that all she had become was a gaping loss and slowly it was eating away at her? She was letting it eat away at her one chunk at a time as the darkness made it easier to think about what she had and what she had lost.

"I... No, I don't hate this place so much." She spoke slowly and Kitch's paw gave her arm a squeeze of encouragement.

"What do you like here, Marrck? What do you enjoy?" He spoke so softly, but she could feel the tension in his frame as she tried to puzzle out the words.

"Where I come from, it's an old, disorganized and hateful world. There's beauty, but there is so much ugliness found there. I don't see that here." Mark blinked her eyes a little as she recalled wars, murder, horror upon horror that mankind did to each other and their world. "It's so simple here. I know that it can't be all peaceful, but there's a contentment in that this place isn't as complicated as my world. I don't have to worry about armies and horrible weapons."

She drew in a breath and sighed it out, "I love learning about the herbs here. There are so many different ones than there are where I come from. And they have so many fabulous uses. Sometimes I think that my people forgot that we originally found our medicine through such simple means. It's all chemicals there and inventions, but here, you've found and harnessed the properties of herbs in ways that I'm amazed by. Banich knows so much about them and it's not written down anywhere. I've heard about oral traditions, but there aren't places that really do that anymore because they were destroyed. Here, she knows it all. It's all in her head."

"Bincha thinks that you're a fine pupil." Kitch smiled in the darkness and gave her arm another squeeze. "What else? Think of what you enjoy here."

"I don't know. I mean, it's different. I love the way I can move now. I was never that athletic, but now I can run up a tree without even thinking about it. That's thrilling. And I can run faster and farther. I know that I'm able to do so much more with my body then I used to--"She paused and glanced down at herself. "I just can't get used to what I am that's beyond a squirrel. I was a guy, I was a man. I wasn't female. Now it's all changed and I don't know if I can handle it."

She dropped her voice and squeezed her arms tightly around her knees. "Sometimes I'm scared I'm going to go mad because I can't handle it, Kitch. I'm afraid that it's going to break me and I don't know how to make it any better. I don't want to lose who I am. I don't want to stop being me. What if everything I am and every bit of who made me, me, is lost like it had never been. I could wake up one morning and not remember anything except this life. I know it makes me unhappy." A tear rolled down her face in a hot wet line. "I know that remembering what I had makes me upset, but that's part of who I am and I can't just discard it because I fell into this world."

"You won't lose who you are, Marrck." Kitch's hand moved up from her arm and his light touch brushed the tear from her damp fur. "Do you think that we've made you someone else entirely? That you'll be wiped away and another personality will be left behind? Or that there is some strange spirit inside of you that will take over?"

"It sounds stupid when you say it like that." Mark lifted her head and twitched her ears back as Kitch grinned at her in the moonlight.

"We are who we are. That does change. I am not the kit that dyed his annoying younger sibling in berry juice, but I am still Kitch. I am just another facet of him that has grown older and wiser. That doesn't mean I've abandoned who I was as a kit. And that doesn't mean accepting this and accepting your life here will make you any less who you used to be." Kitch moved his hand up and pulled Mark's arm a little.

After a few moments she relented and turned towards him with her ears still angled back and her tail curled on the tree branch. "I'm female, I'm not human and I'm not in my world. What is there to save? My name's even been changed."

"TCAH!" Kitch moved the hand that had guided Mark to turn to cup her cheeks as he shook his head. "Do you think what I am, is decided simply because of my sex? No. I saw you in the forest, you were brave and clever. You were fast and I have come to know your mind. You are sharp and smart. You are willful and stubborn." Her friend gave her head a shake between his paws to show his humor. "You are careful and thoughtful when you are taught and you are a hard worker. These things are what you are as much as your old body was. And those things will not change because you are here with us and being a part of our village."

"But things will change..." Mark swallowed and even to her ears her voice sounded small. The feel of Kitch's warm paws against her cheeks was soothing. The next words slipped free of her lips before she could stop them. "I'm scared."

"I know." Her friend leaned forward and his hands moved so that one cupped behind her head and drew her towards him. Their foreheads touched so he was staring into his eyes. "We cannot stop change. Life is change, from the moment we draw breath we begin to change. From infant to kit, to adult, to elder. The changes are part of the thrill, Marrck. The changes are part of the adventure. And you do not have to adventure alone."

Mark swallowed as her whiskers brushed against Kitch's and she drew in a swift breath. The touches of his hands were gentle against her fur as she felt the line of his body carefully held away from her. It would have been more natural for that gape to be filled in by him leaning forward instead of the awkward angle he held himself at, but he didn't press. He never pressed. Kitch, who had spent days beside her working, talking and listening to her. Kitch, who had rescued her and she had rescued him in turn. Her friend, who had patiently stood at her side even when she woke him up in the middle of the night and he still talked with her. He never showed signs that he was tired or frustrated at her own fits of depression. He was simply there. He was a bulwark against the feeling of loneliness that wanted to claim her in this foreign place.

Mark let out a trembling breath and leaned forward that fraction of an inch so that her nose brushed against his own. The warm scent filled her muzzle. He smelled like wood fire and the scent she'd come to identify as squirrel, but beneath that was the warm sweet scent f vanilla. It was sweet enough she felt she could roll it on her tongue as their noses touched. He made a soft noise and leaned forward so that his furred lips caressed her own. It was a gentle touch that tickled whiskers up along her cheeks and she tensed up instinctively. The moment she did, she saw his eyes widen and his hands went stiff and still against her neck. Even in the moonlight she could see his panic as he pulled backwards and dropped his hands down.

"Marrck, I am sorry. I should not have-" His features closed down and he closed his eyes as if trying to hide what he was feeling.

"Kitch.." She swallowed as her voice came out roughly. Her emotions rolled and twisted inside of her, a bundle of confusion she couldn't start to sort out.

Damnitalltohellandback The jumbled thought flared through her mind as she watched Kitch turning away. She didn't want him to turn away. She didn't want to see the hurt in his eyes at what he perceived as his rejection.

Mark didn't think. She didn't try to sort out her thoughts. She let her first response be her only one. She pulled her legs beneath her and leaned forward so that one of her trembling paws touched against the curve of his cheek. Kitch went tense, but didn't pull away as she leaned forward and allowed her lips to touch his own again. The warm woodsmoke, musk and vanilla scent filled her nose and some part of her relaxed. It was a soothing scent, a scent that made her feel safe as her friend moved his hands up and tilted his head so that he began to hesitantly kiss her back. She could feel his body trembling as he came close enough that his chest rested against her covered breasts and his arms curled around her back.

He touched her delicately and his arms didn't squeeze her. He didn't keep her trapped. Mark's mind was a flurry of rolling emotions and instincts as Kitch's soft wet tongue traced along her lower lip in the lightest of touches. She started to shake and she dropped her hands to cup against the edges of his hips as she mimicked him and traced over his lips. They exchanged gentle touches until their tongues met and Kitch let out a soft noise. His breathing was so swift, but so was hers. She was almost painfully aware of her pounding heart beat as her cheeks flushed a hot red. It should have felt wrong, it should have felt humiliating and degrading to kiss the male, but it didn't. Something in her chest relaxed as they held each other.

It was Kitch. Kitch who had cried with her on the nights she had been so upset she couldn't find the words to convey it. Kitch, who had watched her with guilt-ridden eyes when she had awoken and who had tried to guide her through his world. He had been a constant in her life here and some part of her had taken him for granted. She knew that he would come when she was upset. She knew that he would be there when she was helping haul up nets and he would take the slack. She knew it in a way that had nothing to do with her higher mind and everything to do with instinct. With those thoughts, the feel of his silken tongue curling against her own wasn't invasive or embarrassing. It felt right. It felt as if she had been wanting this for a long time.

After several moment's she pulled away still shaking. Her breath came in short trembling gasps as Kitch pulled away and swallowed hard enough she saw his throat bobbing in the moonlight. He turned his head to one side as if afraid to look at her.

"I have wished to do that for a long time." Her friend's voice was rough with emotion. "A very long time."

"Kitch..." Mark blinked and licked her lips so that she tasted him again. It wasn't... unpleasant.

What could she say? She should run. She should leave and hold onto her humanity instead of giving into these thoughts. She knew that. It was just another part of who she was that was slipping away and soon it would be gone.

I'm not the same as I was as a child.. But I'm still the same person inside. She blinked as she moved her hands up to hold his lower arms. Kitch saw that. He's wiser then I am.

_ _

She thought the last ruefully before she drew in a deep breath. She tried to ground and center herself with it. This was who she was, and she would control it. It would not control her. She would own it, become it, and be a part of it. She couldn't hide from it in old memories and broken hearted tears. She couldn't deny what thoughts were beneath the surface as she looked at Kitch's familiar handsome features in the darkness and felt his hands shaking as they held her. He was so afraid, she could almost feel his fear as he expected her to bolt or grow angry. That wasn't who she was. That wasn't who she was becoming. She would own who she was now. She would not allow it to own her.

Calina started to shake, her teeth almost chattering with her mingled fear and excitement. The last emotion almost as terrifying as the first. She leaned forward and Kitch's hands came up to cup against her cheeks as she pressed her lips to his again.