FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Miraculously enough, spring break did arrive for the students of Noah's Arc Academy on the first week of April. The annual exodus of animals from the school left only a few dozen stragglers still staying at the dorms, including Hafsa herself. With her usual crew away traveling or staying with their parents in the city, Hafsa has more or less free roam of the vast academy grounds.

A mostly empty campus has its perks. There are less prying eyes to constantly keep her in "role model" mode, for one. This is the main appeal of spring break. No matter how big a social butterfly she has become, servals are naturally solitary creatures.

Although she may have been fed up with academic duties, the campus itself is impossible to get sick of. The wide grassy lawn, Priya's charming garden (though Hafsa steers clear of the smelly rickety shed), the variety of impressive architecture, tasty and nutritious food... One could not complain that the school doesn't meet its "elite" title.

While she was very much looking forward to the spring break, in truth, there is still a lot of work to be done, though it's a bit different than her usual tasks. Hafsa's social media pages, from Instanyan to Snappack to Tweeter to Facewoof, are notoriously at their peak during vacation days.

As the old saying goes, there ain't no rest for the wicked: as much as Hafsa would like to spend the entire week in a sleep coma and forget about the world, she must still fulfill her duties as carnivorous socialite. Social media is a crucial tool to inform those who cannot see her that she is in fact, always amazing all the time. Should she go silent, the masses are left to assume the worst: that her role as school idol and student council president exists only during the academic term. If left to her own devices, this irresponsible carnie would become a hermit, a layabout.That would be unacceptable.

And so, the holiday campaigns begin. Her first post of the details her breakfast, morning jog and/or sunrise. One or two miscellaneous posts are sprinkled in depending on the daily happenings before lunchtime, where an impressive meal would always be showcased. Next is the afternoon selfie, with expertly chosen filters (either ironically silly or deviously cute depending on mood, weather and previous posts). There's a little bit of wiggle room in the evening, which can be filled with text posts of a tasteful story or opinion, followed by the dinner pic, (these a bit more generous in calories to promote relatability). Finally, a good night post with some wholesome stickers, and it's off to bed. Rinse, repeat.

It takes a dedicated and ingenious mind to avoid becoming overly repetitive, dull or try-hard, but Hafsa is a master of the craft. Each day is planned to provide a dynamic, entertaining, and appealing experience to her followers, regardless if she stays on campus or takes a trip to the city.

While this might sound exhausting to the average Joe, a passive exhibition of Hafsa's life is far more relaxing than her constant active display. To an animal as busy as she, social media might as well be a trip to the spa. She enjoys planning her daily posts, strategizing on what would get her the most likes, and receiving the heaps of praise from her hundreds of followers. Some may call it shallow, but it's an ambition just like any other.

On the Wednesday of spring break, however, she would have to restructure her posting. Right before school went out, a very excited Brian suggested in the student council group chat that the four of them should meet up during vacations. Although the idea of them hanging out outside of school for the first time seemed a little daunting, Hafsa had no reason to decline. In fact, she had mentioned this exact idea to Solomon during that... conversation.

Everyone, even Desmond surprisingly, agreed to the proposal. And so, date, time and occasion were settled.

At fifteen to 2pm, Hafsa briskly strides to the agreed-upon meeting location; in front of an old statue of a stony-eyed war hero in the city center. Though Hafsa is no stranger to a friendly outing, she feels a strange thrill while approaching her destination. The student council somehow manages to wring out a strange earnestness from within herself. There is an undeniable air of camaraderie that tricks her senses into showing a sliver more authenticity than she would like. It's unsettling, but elating at the same time. It's been a long time since she was genuinely looking forward to something.

Peaking out from a rooftop, she spots the rusted head of the canine war hero. Turning the corner, she gets a clear view of the small quaint plaza enclosed by colonial-style buildings. Through the bustling figures of passing animals, she spots a stationary shape with two sets of horns and a piebald fleece loitering under the statue.

Desmond glances around idly, hands safely protected in his coat pockets. A part of Hafsa wants to sneak up on him and spook him with a "boo!", but knew that most bystanders probably wouldn't hesitate to call the police at the sight of a carnivore skulking around a smaller herbivore. She settles for a polite wave and quickly jogs up to him.

"Hey!" She greets with a grin.

The sheep offers a curt head bow, quickly freeing his hands from his pockets. "Hey." From the way he grabs his lower horn, revving it like a motorcycle throttle grip, it's clear that he's still nervous about being alone with her, especially outside of school grounds.

Hafsa ignores this, though still a little hurt at his distrust, and tries to lighten the mood. "Have you been waiting long?"

"Not really." He shrugs, his expression cool.

"We're still 10 minutes early," she smirks. "Don't tell me you're secretly super excited about this, and got here way ahead of time? I bet you hardly slept last night because you were so giddy!"

"As if!" Desmond huffs. "I'm always early to things, it's called being polite."

"If I recall correctly, you were late to the first student council meeting."

"Wh-whatever." The tension having diffused a bit, Desmond finally gets a good look at the serval. Her attire isn't very different from her usual school clothes in principle, but the light pink dress coupled with a delicate clutch bag and white flats hints towards a girlier, more flirtatious vibe than what is usually seen in Noah's Arc. Nothing obscene, hell, nothing inappropriate about it at all, but the frills that reach just under the knee and slight close-fitting near the hips does subtle wonders.

...Which is totally not an analysis he just did.

"What movie are we watching again?" The serval asks.

"Erm... 'Something'... Stars?... It has that famous Hungarian actor in it. I think it's a murder drama." Desmond mumbles, trying to come back down to Earth.

"Right!" Hafsa's ears perk up at the recollection. "I've heard it's really good! I gotta say, Brian really is a genius for suggesting we watch a movie."

Desmond tilts his head slightly. "How so?"

As Hafsa places her hand under her chin, Desmond realizes he's in for quite the explanation. "Well, it's the perfect 'first activity' for a group of friends. You all meet together, chat a bit in the theater, and then sit in silence for the next two hours or so. It's the feeling of a social interaction without the actual hassle of conversation. If you're really bold, you might whisper a funny comment to the person next to you, and that will be ten times more effective because you're in a situation where you're supposed to be quiet! Reverse psychology! And then afterwards, the whole group will feel like they've bonded even though really, they've just been staring at a screen. Plus, that movie will eternally remain an inside joke amongst the friend group for years to come. It's truly foolproof."

"That was the most sociopathic thing I've ever heard."

Hafsa sticks her tongue out in mockery. "It's called strategy. Once you've played the game enough, you learn these things."

Desmond only responds with an incredulous expression and an "uh-huh."

"That being said," she continues. "Movies are horrible for dates."

"What?" The sheep seems to jolt at this. "No they're not. It's a classic date."

"Ah, you naive little lamb..." The serval chortles indulgently.

"Huh?"

"When two animals are on a date, the whole purpose is to get to know each other better, right?"

"Right."

"So unlike in a large friend group, where the goal is to maximize the overall rapport between the group, a date needs to focus on the one-on-one relationship of the couple, right?"

"...R-right."

"So the illusion of intimacy will get you nowhere in a relationship. A situation in which the couple isn't allowed to speak to each other just doesn't make sense. Right?"

"That kinda checks out, surprisingly."

Hafsa gives a contented hum. "Why do all males think movie dates are a good idea? Because it's easier for them?"

"Hey, for the record, my ideal date isn't a movie, okay?" The sheep bleats defensively.

"Oh?" The feline's eyes widen in interest, a toothy smile forming below them. "And what is Desmond's ideal date, pray tell?"

The sheep fumbles around, huffing and puffing like a cat mid-hairball. "T-that's not important!"

"But clearly, it is!" Hafsa purrs, inching closer to the sheep to give playful nudges. "C'mon, spill. I bet it's terrible."

"It's not, it's--!" He sputters, but quickly loses his spark. "Look, it's not a big deal. If I really liked the girl, I guess I'd take her to the botanical gardens. It's quiet, and it has fresh air, and it's pretty. We'd walk around, and talk, look at cool plants. There's a nice lily pond with an arched bridge that could be a nice place to eat some snacks we brought. And in the flower garden, we'd point out which flowers remind us of each other the most. And in the end, I'd buy her that flower at the gift shop. Th-they sell pressed flowers there, I mean. Never mind, it's terrible, you're right."

Hafsa places a hand on his shoulder. He looks up to meet her gaze, only to be met with a scrunched up face on the verge of tears, the black markings on her brow all contorted with emotion. "T-that is so sweet... You're not just a meathead jock, after all!" She squeaks. He notices her tail swishing wildly behind her.

"Sh-Shut it..." Desmond looks away, rubbing his horns. "What about you, huh? Surely a romance expert like yourself has some weird hyper-specific dream date?

Hafsa suddenly goes quiet. "I don't."

"Huh? You're the one who started all this date nonsense--"

The ram's words are cut short by the distinct calls of a certain rock dove. Brian jogs up to the pair, with Solomon following in long strides. "Sorry to keep you waiting!" Brian apologizes, and shoots his hand up in a celebratory "high five" pose.

Hafsa slaps his expecting hand with gusto (feigned, as her actual strength could very well break his wrist) and giggles. "You're right on time! We were just a little early!"

"It's good to see you both." Solomon settles next to Brian. He offers a courteous nod to Desmond, who hesitantly returns the gesture, and fixes his gaze on the serval next to him. "You look lovely, Ms. President."

She fidgets, looking anywhere except at him. "Thank you."

"Hey, we're not in the office now, Sol!" Brian corrects, waggling a finger to the taller male. "You should call her Hafsa!"

"When it comes to relaxing, you're quite the stickler, aren't you?" Solomon chuckles. "Well, the movie theater should only be a quick walk from here. Shall we be off?"

Two herbies and two carnies walking around town together is an odd sight. Not bizarre, but perhaps just out of the ordinary enough to warrant a discreet double take before resuming your business, like a person going around barefoot. There are no rules that prohibit inter-trophic mingling, but much like how the sexes tend to group together, so to do species. However given the group setting, it turns far less heads than a couple would.

But, as group outings tend to do, the four animals are somehow split into two separate groups in order to fit in the sidewalks. Brian is dedicated to recounting an anecdote of his part-time job (something involving an anteater and a straw getting stuck up said anteater's nose) to Hafsa. Out of respect for the little bird's passionate sermon, Desmond and Solomon begrudgingly walk side by side.

Perhaps because of the guise of a friendly outing, Solomon breaks the usual vow of silence established between the two. "How has your spring break been so far?"

"S'ok. Pretty uneventful." The sheep replies, hands in pocket.

"Have you been keeping safe? I hear it's still pretty dangerous for sheep nowadays."

Desmond clenches his jaw at the veiled taunt. Always reminding me of my status. As if Mother hasn't been driving me crazy about the predation incidents. I had to lie about hanging out with carnies just to be here today. I bet she's sitting at her desk, tracking my phone for my every move as we speak.

"I can handle myself fine."

"That's good to hear." Solomon glances down to meet the sheep's gaze, but quickly resumes looking straight ahead. "Have you met up with your ram fighting team? Congratulations on the great season, by the way."

"Oh, uh. Thanks. We're planning on meeting up tomorrow, actually. Just hang out at someone's house and shoot the shit. Order a pizza."

Solomon smiles. "How quaint. It's good to keep busy with others. I myself have a rendezvous tomorrow." The caracal's gaze shifts ever so slightly; a simple twitch of the eyeballs to the right so indistinct it would go unnoticed by most animals. But Desmond notices. He now stares at the back of Hafsa's head.

---

Whether or not the movie was actually good, Desmond couldn't tell. He spent all two hours and thirteen minutes staring expressionless at the flashing screen, trying to decipher Solomon's 'rendezvous' comment.

Was the glance intentional? Is that why he ended the discussion so cryptically? Was Solomon playing some 4D-chess carnie mind games so advanced only a paranoid bastard like me could pick up on it? Was it perhaps totally unrelated, and he just happened to glance at Hafsa? The back of her head is quite a sight to behold on its own, given the striking dotted patterns... No, no, the timing was way too on the nose. He could've only been hinting towards some arrangement the two felines are planning for tomorrow! It has to be a date. That's why he didn't go into more detail. Since when did they start dating? It makes sense, I guess, but this is all happening way too fast--

Wait.

Why on Earth do I care?

That's right! I don't give a damn about either of their love lives! As long as they don't come bothering me about it, then really, this doesn't concern me at all! Obviously!!

Desmond remains completely unconcerned about it when the credits roll. He remains completely unconcerned about it when the group exits the theater and goes to a nearby cafe for a quick snack. He remains completely unconcerned about it when they return back to the plaza they met up in. He remains completely unconcerned about it when they say their goodbyes and part ways. He remains completely unconcerned about it when he returns home and dodges his mother's barrage of questions. And he remains completely unconcerned about it when lying awake that night, somehow feeling too agitated to sleep.