FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

-Chapter 1- [The Cub Who Lived]

Obsidian and Amber Tailtuft , who lived high in a cave on the Himalayan mountains, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal wolves, thank you very much. They were the last wolves you would expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such rubbish.

Obsidian Tailtuft was the leader of his pack that covered all of the Himalayan mountains resulting in a 300 wolf strong pack. He was a big muscular wolf that had a longer than average neck. He had lots of fur near his face resulting in him having what looked like a furry moustache. Amber Tailtuft was a much thinner wolf with much lighter fur than Obsidian. Instead of his dull greyish/black fur she had an almost snow colored tint to hers. On top of that her neck was the complete opposite of her husbands as she had almost no neck at all. This meant that she rarely got picked for lookout duty due to this inability to look over large mountainous peaks in the way of her line of sight. This meant that if they wanted to spy on intruders then Obsidian or another wolf did it instead. The two of them had a son named Onyx Tailtuft and in their mind there was no finer wolf anywhere in the world.

The Tailtufts had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Furrys. Mother Furry was Ambers sister , but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Amber pretended she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing mate were as unTailtuftlyish as it was possible to be. The Tailtufts shuddered to think what their pack neighbours would say if the Furrys arrived in the den. The Tailtufts knew that the Furrys had a small cub, too, but they had never even seen him. This cub was another good reason for keeping the Furrys away; they didn't want Onyx mixing with a cub like that.

When Obsidian and Amber woke up on the dull, grey Tuesday that holds the beginning to our story, there was nothing about the cloudy sky to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the mountains. Obsidian hummed to himself as he bathed himself ready for going out hunting that morning and Amber gossiped away happily as she wrestled a howling Onyx into a makeshift seat. None of them noticed a large black falcon flutter past the cave. At half past eight, Obsidian gathered the rest of the hunting group and licked Amber on the cheek. He tried to do the same for Onyx but being the young cub that he was, he was busy throwing a tantrum and knocking his breakfast all over the place. 'Little tyke,' chortled Obsidian as he left the cave. He spoke to the hunting party for a few minutes and then they all sprinted away in separate directions, looking for a good place to hunt.

It was on the peak of the mountain den that Obsidian noticed the first sign of something peculiar - a snow leopard reading a makeshift map that had been carved into the wall by a wolfs claws. For a second, Obsidian didn't realise what he had seen - then he reared his head around to look again. There was a snow leopard standing at the peak of their mountain den but there were no markings in sight. What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick from the light bouncing off the snow. Obsidian blinked and stared at the snow leopard. It stared back. As Obsidian made his descent down the mountain and towards his designated hunting zone, he watched the snow leopard from the corner of his eye. It was now reading markings that indicated the location of the den - no looking at the markings; snow leopards couldn't read markings or scratches in walls. Every wolf knows that they are the stupidest animals to walk the planet. Obsidian gave himself a little shake and put the snow leopard out of his mind. As he got closer towards the hunting zone he thought of nothing except the large request of meat he was hoping to get that day.

But on the edge of the zone, meat was driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual jam of wolves entering the area one by one, he couldn't help but notice that there seemed to be a lot of strange looking wolves about. Was it camouflage or fur? How had nobody else noticed? Obsidian couldn't bear wolves who looked funny - the cubs looked ridiculous! He supposed this was some festival between the groups of wolves that he had never encountered before. He tapped his paws in the snow and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weird wolves standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. Obsidian was enraged to see that a couple of them were not young cubs or adolescents at all;why that wolf had to be older than he was and his fur had an emerald green tint to it! The nerve of him! But then it struck Obsidian that this was probably some silly stunt that the males were trying to do in order to find mates... yes that would be it. The wolves in front moved on, and a few minutes later Obsidian arrived in the hunting zone, his mind back on meat.

Obsidian always sat with his back to the mountains in his snow - capped cave. If he hadn't he might have found it harder to concentrate on meat that morning. He didn't see the falcons swooping past in broad daylight, though wolves down in the lover levels of the mountains did; as they gazed and howled as falcon after falcon sped overhead. Most of them had never seen a falcon even at night-time. Obsidian, however, had a perfectly normal, falcon-free morning. He yelled at five different wolves. He made several important message deliveries and shouted a bit more. He was in a very good mood until lunch-time, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the field of snow to a recent kill from a snare he had set up.

He'd forgotten all about the mysterious wolves until he passed a group of them next to his snare. He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why but they made him uneasy. This lot were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single thing that made them look like they were trying to impress. It was on his way back past them, clutching what he hadn't eaten from his kill in his mouth, that he caught a few words of what they were saying.

"The Furrys, that's right, that's what I heard -"

"Yes, their son, Kobalt -"

Obsidian stopped dead. Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it.

He dashed back across the snow, hurried up to his cave, snapped at his group not to disturb him, seized his equipment pack and was about to send someone to tell Amber at his home when he changed his mind. He put the pack back down and pawed at the snow, thinking ... no, he was being stupid. Furry wasn't such an unusual name. He was sure there was lots of wolves called Furry who had a son called Kobalt. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure his nephew was called Kobalt. He'd never even seen the cub. It might have been Kobol. Or Karbolt. There was no point in worrying Amber, she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn't blame her - if he'd had a sister like that ... but all the same, those people in cloaks ...

He found it a lot harder to concentrate on meat that afternoon, and when he left the cave at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into a wolf just outside the entrance.

"Sorry," he grunted, as the tiny old wolf stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Obsidian realised that the wolf had a violet tint to its fur. He didn't seem upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passers-by stare: "Don't be sorry, my dear friend, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Wolf has gone at last! Even Mugglewolves like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!"

And the old wolf cuddled into Obsidians side and walked off.

Obsidian stood rooted to the spot. He had been nuzzled by a complete stranger. He also though he had been called a Mugglewolf, whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to the rest of his group and told them to follow him as they set off home. He wasn't really in the mood for anymore hunting that day. He was hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination.

As he arrived at the entrance to the den, the first thing he saw - and it didn't improve his mood - was the snow leopard he'd spotted that morning. It was now sitting on one of the outer walls of the den. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same dotted pattern around its eyes.

"This is my den!" said Obsidian loudly clearly trying to get the high ground in the confrontation.

The snow leopard didn't move. It just gave him a stern look. Was this normal snow leopard behaviour, Obsidian wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the den. He was still determined not to mention anything to his mate.

Amber had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs Next Door's problems with her cub and how Onyx had learnt a new word ("Shan't!"). Obsidian tried to act normally. When Onyx had been put to bed, he went into the living room portion of the cave to catch the last report on the evening news from the snowy owl that flew around finding new pieces of news:

"And finally, bird-watcher wolves everywhere have reported that the mountain's falcons have been behaving very unusually today. Although falcons normally hunt alone and are hardly ever seen in pairs, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction in large groups since sunrise. Expert wolves are unable to explain reasons as to why the falcons have suddenly changes to group patterns instead of solo patterns." The owl allowed himself a grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Tawny Owl with the weather. Going to be any more showers of falcons tonight, Tawny?"

"Well, Snowy," said the weather-owl, "I don't know about that, but it's not only the falcons that have been acting oddly today. Wolves in different zoos all over the mountains have been sending us letters saying that instead of the snow I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps wolves have been celebrating Bonfire night early - it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a cold night tonight."

Obsidian sat frozen on his spot in the room. Shooting stars all over the mountains? Falcons flying in groups? Mysterious wolves in different colors all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Furrys ...

Amber came into the living room area carrying a two small portions of meat. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. "Er - Amber, dear - you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?

As he had expected, Amber looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister.

"No," she said sharply. "Why?"

"Funny stuff from the news owl," Obsidian mumbled. "Falcons ... shooting stars ... and there were a lot of funny - looking wolves in the hunting area today ..."

"So?" snapped Amber

"Well, I just thought ... maybe ... it was something to do with ... you know ... her lot."

Amber ate her meat with small nibbles. Obsidian wondered whether he dare tell her he'd heard the name 'Furry'. He decided he didn't dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could,

"Their cub - he'd be about Onyx's age now, wouldn't he?"

"I suppose so," said Amber stiffly.

"Whats his name again? Koboralt, isn't it?"

"Kobalt. Nasty, common name, if you ask me."

"Oh, yes," said Obsidian, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree."

He didn't say another word on the subject as the went up the stairs to the top level of the den, which held the bedroom of the pack leader. While Amber was in the bathing room, Obsidian crept to the makeshift window and peered down at the front of the den. The snow leopard was still there. It was staring down the mountain range as though it was waiting for something.

Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Furrys? If it did ... if it got out that they were related to a pair of - well, he didn't think he could bear it.