Fucking a Furry

Floofy and I sit down, and I use a charcoal pencil to draft a sketch of our heist route.

Looking at Floofy seriously, I lay out the plan, "The lynel's cave is in the middle of a rock bridge. The cave itself is basically a little hole that was dug into a small hill. If the lynel catches one of us, we are done. Instant death."

I continue, "I climb under the bottom of the bridge, then tunnel up and grab whatever's in there once the lynel is gone."

"Floofy, your job is to sacrifice yourself if we get caught. Got it?"

Floofy, not understanding anything I'm saying, barks happily.

I spend the next week analyzing the lynel's daily routine. It sleeps the night in its little cave and spends the day practicing with its weapons and cooking food, which suggests a worrying level of intelligence.

The lynel unpredictably enters and exits the cave during the daytime, so the only way I could get in there and steal its treasures is if I go during the night when it is asleep.

At the end of the week, I put my plan into action, giving myself a little mental pep talk before climbing down along the side of the natural rock bridge. I try not to look down at the rushing river running along the bottom of the canyon, hundreds of feet below.

Climbing vertically is easy, but horizontally, along the bottom of the bridge, proves to be very challenging. When I reach a particularly challenging section, I'm forced to jump for a juicy handhold.

My hands grasp onto the hold, but the section of stone turns out to be loose. I begin to plummet down as my heart freezes.

Coming back to my senses, I shoot the Throngler up, and it sinks into rock, suspending me in the air for a minute as I recover from the shocking dose of adrenaline and spike in heartbeat, until I retract the Throngler into my gauntlet, pulling myself back up.

After another few hours of climbing horizontally, this time much more carefully, a feat that no human without mana could accomplish, I reach the particular rock formation on the underside of the bridge that I've estimated is directly below the lynel's cave.

Here, I take out the only things other than my weaponry that I've brought on this heist, the bear pelt and a couple of metal stakes. I hammer the pelt into the underside of the canyon, forming a safety net. I then firmly secure the Throngler into the underside of the mountain and test out my new little perch, which seems to hold.

I take in the view from the underside of the bridge for a second, the bear-pelt safety net is somewhat comfy, and the cool breeze makes my long red hair flow in the wind. I really need to get a hair tie.

Before the sun goes down, I coat my saber in ultra-sharp water mana and begin cutting a hole up into the lynel's lair.

I spend three nights cutting and throwing massive stones hundreds of feet down into the river, which is not too bad, as it never gets old seeing the massive splashes.

I know Floofy is missing me from where I left him back on the bridge, but I made sure he has plenty of food and water.

In the middle of day three day, the tip of my sword breaks through stone and into the air. I immediately stop digging, sliding down the thirty-foot tall tunnel I drilled up into the natural bridge.

I wait until the sun completely falls below the horizon and the moon drags itself high in the star-filled sky before beginning my heist.

I finish cutting a circular segment of stone and push it up into a poorly lit room. Pulling myself into the room, I survey my surroundings.

I'm in some sort of main chamber, with little hallways extending in all directions. In the middle of the chamber is a large bed full of fine pelts and a chest that seems to be releasing a shiny glow, which spurs my heart with greed.

But there is no lynel in the bed, which is a huge red flag. The only thing worse than a lynel right next to you is a lynel that would be right behind you.

I consider my options; this is a very sketchy situation, it would be wise to back out, but I eventually decide Mama ain't raise no bitch.

Ima fuck this Furry up, bipity botpity your stuff is now my property.

I'm just about to reach the chest when I hear steps coming from the largest hallway into the main chamber.

I immediately replace the stone cover from the hole I came out of, because I don't think I can escape down the hole and close it behind me before the steps arrive, and bolt into one of the side rooms, following a short passage until I reach a vile-smelling chamber, furnished with a singular pit full of lynel shit.

The steps are getting nearer, and I notice that the lynel will still be able to see into this outhouse room. Steeling myself, I jump into the pile of shit.

I only breathe through my mouth due to the absolutely vile smell in this hole, and only my head is in open air. After a few minutes, I realize that the lynel is coming into this room.

Closing my eyes, I completely submerge myself in the warm, gooey substance, an insect crawls across my back, and I grab a stick that is inexplicably in this hole in case I need to fight.

Any weapon is better than no weapon, and my hands can't reach my sword or gun.

The lynel doesn't seem to notice me, and I realize that it is, in fact, pissing on my poo-covered head from the warm trickle of liquid running down my cheek.

I hear footsteps exit the room and wait one excruciating minute under the dung, making sure that the pitch-black monster is completely gone before climbing out of the hole.

I wait another few hours, making sure that the lynel is now asleep, and creep out of the outhouse room, trying to make my way out of the hallway and up into the meadow outside.

I absentmindedly put the stick into my backpack as I sneak out, which is hard when my footsteps make a squishing noise due to being caked in excrement.

Just as I reach the hallway out, and I think that this nightmare is finally over, the lynel's eyes shot open.