FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

I would construct the Cult of Thorn and Fang.

Ostensibly, this was to form a place for people who wanted to transform, like me, into brutish beast-folk. Furries of the most devout, but also the most feral sort.

But... not really. The Cult of Thorn and Fang was just a tool for projecting my hatred for humans. My spite.

You see, it was a past-tense cult. A failed one, I'd tried to orchestrate.

Well, today, I was going to play a mock-game of Cultist Simulator, where I reconstructed Thorn and Fang.

... why would I do such a dumb thing?

... because I wanted to learn from the repetition, and the self-reflection.

What did that have to do with the God of Marriage?

It wasn't immediately obvious, and I needed a break, still.

Here, let's start with stupid, superficial things. Aerith is a red-head, and kind of foxy. She has green eyes, and green is the color of Mother Earth.

Green is the color of Thorn. The Thorn aspect. The premise that things, held or gripped or brushed by, or bitten down upon, incorrectly, rend and wound.

And Thorn is a protector. A protector that teaches pain and rending.

It's one of Nature's most violent aspects... an arma _ florii _.

And Thorn-and-Fang were a militant cult. So... there was no establishing them with just any of Cultist Simulator's cults as their basis. It had to be one of two:

There was the Wildwood Club , and there was the Church of the Bright Edge.

Why not the Order of the Bloody Cup?

Because Thorn and Fang had a color code. Brown was its other color--the color of aged, spilled blood... and the color of wood, shit, and soil. (Not as you might imagine, the white of bone and fang. There was not a great deal of white within the dark cult).

Nor was this a society that was fixated on the redness of nature in tooth and claw. Nor was it fundamentally preoccupied with consumptions or devourings, or births and emergences. These were par for the course, for Thorn and Fang. They'd simply never contemplated such things with concern.

If you were not a priest, you were a were. Like 'wear', were. Like, werewolf. And if you were not a priest, and not a werewolf... and you most certainly were not the Goddess of Thorn and Fang, for she held predominance over a certain little raging pocket of nature that you were most certainly not getting inside of intact, to be an avatar of hers--well, then you were a mere Bobbin. Yes, like the wooden kind for spinning thread around. These were people so devoted to the cult, that they had become nature's 'tools'--men of wood and flora, with souls of xylem brown and phloem green.

How... could I have channeled so much creativity around hatred and spite?

But I had. And I'd just never written about it. It belongs in my oldest writings, from _ Aldruin, _ which I sometimes also called Origins of Altima.

They are the mad cultists that Councilor Dalnassir and Vindicator Van Baldwin are trying to wipe out.

And they, really, really, really have a hard-on for Mother Earth.