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by Spencer Orey

“I was not the Judge, but I would try.”

The caravan season should have ended with the onset of the rains. Unpredictably flooded trails and the rise of furious displaced snakes made it treacherous to cross the forest we called the Heart of Rain. Moreover, the best of the lion guides had long since crossed over and were now feasting through their earnings. The only lions still offering their services here at the border were the worst of the lot and the most corrupt. Nobody who knew any better would choose any of them. And yet, wagons full of desperate refugees and travelers kept arriving in hopes of a better life away from the pride lands.

The latest donkey-wagon waiting at the inn’s crossing post looked desperate enough. A cheetah waved in hopes of attracting a suitable lion guide while a cheetah cub, likely hers, scratched at the nearest wheel. Other cats chattered in the wagon. I wondered if they’d be desperate enough to choose me as a guide, even though I was no lion. Nobody ever chose a tiger like me, but I could at least offer my services.

I slunk out from the inn’s overhang for a slow and polite approach. Old Grezzawel the lion shoved past me with his tail arrogantly raised. He said, “Do not think to ply your foolishness here, striped one. That wagon is mine.” His steel sword shone on his back.

Even here on the outskirts of the pride lands, I was supposed to acquiesce to the lions. The smallest hesitation could put me in danger from those who’d gladly use sword and claw and tooth to remind me of my place. I should have slunk away. Instead, I approached the wagon.

The cheetah’s gaze flicked over me and lingered on Grezzawel. To her, he must have looked like a figure cut from stories about the Judge, the hero who’d guarded the trails across the Heart of Rain. Grezzawel played the part well, raising his silver necklace to show the Judge’s emblem. I hated that these corrupt lions dared to wear anything so sacred.

“I assume—” Grezzawel began.

“Do not trust that lion,” I interrupted. “I am Tamtammaragh-Tamrel, and if you’ll have me, I will help you.” The wagon flap stirred. A small, striped face peeked out to look at me.

There was a moment of shocked silence.

“Honey, come out here,” the cheetah called over her shoulder to the wagon.

An adult leopard slunk out from the wagon to join us. Before the flap closed behind her, I saw three cubs. A cheetah, a leopard, and yes, a small tiger.

Grezzawel laughed, sounding jolly, but he shifted his weight in subtle preparation to strike me. “Do not listen to this fool tiger. Rains are falling. Snakes are prowling. You’ll need a true guide who can guarantee your passage.”

The cheetah raised a questioning paw at me. “Have you made the crossing before? Can you guarantee us passage?”

I’d never fully crossed the Heart of Rain, but I’d studied maps and followed caravans along the winding trails. I could do it. I said, “None can guarantee such a thing during the rain.” Grezzawel growled in anger, but I kept talking, “I can fight. And if you’ll have me, I swear to protect your group with every one of my lives.”

The cheetah looked me over in consideration. Then, heartbreakingly, she turned to Grezzawel instead. “What terms do you offer, great lion?”

It was a dismissal. And yet, I’d failed so many times at this before that it was hard for me to give up. I did not budge.

Grezzawel gave a cocky snort. “With such danger, you will pay me everything you own. On the other side, you will give me your wagon and your donkey.” He eyed me with a wicked shake of his mane then pointed to the wagon flap. “And one of the cubs, to raise as a servant. I’d prefer a tiger.” It was a horrific blood price.

In my outrage, I felt suddenly aware of the blade on my back. It was a brittle thing, so unlike the Judge’s legendary sword, unlike even this corrupt lion’s steel, but I could use it.

The cheetah reared back from Grezzawel’s demand. She turned to me, “And… your terms?”

“Are illegitimate,” Grezzawel said, shifting his weight again. “No weakling tiger can protect you from the vengeance of snakes. His kind are prideless cowards, unable to fight—” Grezzawel slid his sword out and struck at me.

I swung my blade free just in time. He was far stronger than me, and his sword bit so hard into mine I could tell my blade would break under too many blows. But I knew him. I’d studied from the shadows while he and the other lions practiced their swordplay. Grezzawel could fight, but he was no hero. He was not the Judge. And I’d grown up fighting bullies like him.

I feigned fear and stumbled back. He roared with triumph and leapt at me while I crossed under his eager swipe to bite my teeth hard into his unprotected forearm. He yelped but smashed his sword pommel down onto my head.

I flailed my sword as I fell. My vision spun from pain. Like a fool, I’d challenged a lion to a swordfight and lost. Now I’d die. There’d be no punishment for killing a tiger. I scrambled for my feet, claws out, ready to bat away Grezzawel’s killing blow, but I was too dizzy.

No killing blow fell. When my vision cleared, Grezzawel was stumbling for the inn, clutching his chest. Blood dripped from his fur onto the muddy ground. In my flailing, I’d struck him. I’d actually done it. I’d won.

The cheetah stared at me, head cocked in reconsideration.

Despite my throbbing head, I swept into a bow. “I am no lion. I will accept whatever payment you can afford,” I said. “Only, I ask that after we’ve crossed, you tell others that cats still uphold the true ways and would not steal your cubs or take your every last possession. I ask that you remind everyone that once there was a Judge, and although many lions have turned corrupt and cruel, there may one day be a Judge again. So I ask you now, will you have me as your guide?”

We left later that day.

* * *

We descended brown bouldery hills toward the Heart of Rain. As was their custom, the cats had not presented me with their names, and I had not asked, as was polite.

Out of sight of the village, the three cubs dashed free of the wagon and clambered onto me. I was wearing my armor, and the jangle of the bamboo stalks made the cubs giggle. The cheetah raced over to scold them away, but I waved her off. Better that the little ones learn to trust me while the road was still safe. Then they might listen to me when things turned bad.

The cheetah and leopard cubs were inseparable. They’d tumble away to pounce at each other in the road, but the tiger cub hardly left my back. Perhaps she’d heard Grezzawel demanding her as a blood price, or perhaps I reminded her of someone she’d lost.

We passed several final boulders before the Heart of Rain rose before us. Tall trees shook branches up into the rainclouds, ready to grow as their roots submerged for the long seasonal soak. Mostly, we saw lightning, always striking the same place. Each strike made the tiger cub cling sharper with her claws.

I remembered too well how it felt to be a scared cub. So, as others had once done for me, I told stories about the Judge.

Lightning struck. She dug in her claws again, and I said, “Fear not. That’s only the Judge’s sword.”

“His sword?” her claws eased a little. The other cubs raced over to listen.

“The Judge is the strongest of all warriors. He battles for all of us with his sword that casts lightning. We do not know what he battles. With each flash of lightning, his sword swings against evil. Take heart from the lightning, for the Judge is fighting to keep us safe.”

The tiger cub climbed forward onto my head, watching closer. When lightning flashed, she tensed without clawing. “But how can he fight like that? Doesn’t he need to rest?”

“His sword strikes with lightning,” I said. “His strong paws wield powerful magic. His invincible silver armor shines like sunshine itself.”

“Not like yours.”

I laughed. “No, not like mine.” My armor would barely blunt a sword strike. I was lucky Grezzawel hadn’t skewered me.

“But if he’s so shiny, he can’t hide,” the leopard cub said, suddenly at my side. “He can’t sneak up on his prey.”

“The Judge does not hide,” I said. “He arrives when and wherever cats need his help. At least he used to…” Lightning flashed again. I didn’t want the little ones afraid. I said, “Nobody can beat him in a swordfight. No evil can withstand his righteousness. Out there in the trees, he’s winning.”

“Like this!” The cheetah cub snatched a jagged stick from the ground and swung it at a nearby boulder. The stick broke, and the cubs giggled.

The two adult cats clustered in discussion with the donkey, thanking him for his patience on the tedious downhill. He flicked his ears at me in gratitude for carrying the cubs and sharing some small portion of the weight.

Trees appeared ahead on the trail, with green branches extended as though to ward us away. I hoped the season was early enough that the snakes might still be awakening from their holes, not roosting high, ready to strike.

Doubt found me. Could I truly serve as a guide through this place? Responsibility weighed on my paws with a sudden heaviness. I was telling stories about a hero and pretending to be one myself, when I was yet untested and untrained. My inexperience put my caravan in danger.

The first snake hole I spotted beside the narrow road had already flooded. The snakes would be angry.

Among the trees, there was no point in telling the cubs to keep quiet against their young inclinations. They were young and busy with chatter. Our wagon’s heavy wheels already acted as a beacon to anything listening for vibrations.

* * *

Hiss. Snakes leapt from the treetops, screaming, “Defilers of the rock! Remove your filth and return our land!” Some bared fangs. Others held knives in their mouths.

“Fight them off!” I yelled.

The adult cats leapt to protect the wagon while I searched for the real danger. I spotted a flick of leaves and struck with my sword. I missed. A pair of fangs clanked off my bamboo armor.

Every ambush was led by a snake priest. Lions called them fang spitters because they tore the fangs from fallen snakes to shoot at travelers. I swiped again into the grass.

The cubs screamed from inside the wagon. I turned their way and spotted the fang spitter trying to sneak past me. I grabbed it and threw it hard at a tree trunk, then dashed for the wagon.

I yelled, “Your priest has fallen! Leave us, snakes!” I threw open the wagon flap and found a trio of knife-wielding snakes.

The tiger cub was pressed fully into the corner, trembling with fear. The other two cubs had their claws out, trying to fight.

I roared. The snakes glanced at me and rushed to slither out the front of the wagon. Guides usually moved in pursuit. But when the tiger cub leapt onto me, mewling pitifully, terrified, in desperate need of comfort, I let the snakes escape.

* * *

The cubs were scared but otherwise unharmed, and the adult cats escaped with only scratches. The donkey took a bad bite to his front leg. We bandaged him with a salve that the leopard insisted contained one of her peoples’ effective antivenoms, but it did little to help with his limp. He nevertheless motioned forward with his ears, a brave claim that he could still walk, but he needed our help to push the wagon atop a small hill. We made early camp. It was too damp for a fire.

One attack in, and we were far worse off. I remembered Grezzawel’s hateful words: no weakling tiger can protect you from the vengeance of snakes. How much more of this could we survive?

The cheetah cub and the leopard cub snuggled together, asleep in the wagon with the leopard. The tiger cub refused to leave my side. She was awake and still shaking with fear.

The cheetah came to my side and took her daughter close. “I’ll keep watch for a while so you can rest.”

The tiger whimpered and reached for me. I said, “I’m good yet.”

Rain dripped steadily around us. The cheetah asked, “How many times have you completed the crossing?”

I thought about lying, in case it would help her feel safer. But the Judge would have stuck to the truth. “This is my first full crossing, though I have long stalked these trails in practice. No caravan before you dared choose a tiger when they could have a lion instead.”

The tiger cub made a sound like she wanted to speak, but she quieted down again.

“After the lions stole our land, we followed stories of the Judge into the pride lands of warm justice,” the cheetah said. “But wherever we traveled, the lions forced us out again, always pushing us back onto the road. From the stories… we expected better.”

I nodded in sad agreement. “As did I.”

“Tam, you may be inexperienced, but I am grateful to have you,” the cheetah said. “You saved my cubs today. That is no small thing.”

The tiger cub squeaked a little. “I was too scared to fight. I was a coward tiger, just like that mean lion said.”

“Darling,” the cheetah said, reaching for her.

The cub shook her away, nuzzling closer to me for safety. She said, “The Judge wouldn’t have been scared.”

I knew just what to say. “We all get scared sometimes. Even the Judge.”

“Really?” her ears perked up. “Then I wish the Judge was here with us.” Lightning flashed again and she followed it with her gaze. “Can’t you go get him?”

I laughed at that. “If I left, who would fight off tomorrow’s snakes?” I tried to say more but lost myself in a big yawn.

“Rest while you can,” the cheetah insisted. “We’ll need you fresh.”

My protest ended in another yawn. I handed the tiger cub to her mother.

I awoke to a roar.

* * *

At first, I worried Grezzawel had come for revenge. But after a second roar, we decided someone was in trouble. I volunteered to go, but the cheetah was faster. She raced away to investigate.

She came back shortly with a huge lion. He bore a steel sword on his back that shone brighter even than his cuirass, almost as bright as his necklace that bore the Judge’s emblem.

“He was alone,” the cheetah said, “fighting snakes.”

“And winning,” the lion said with a wicked grin.

I recognized him from the border village. He’d signed on with several other guides for the last full caravan. There’d been several long wagons, all pulled by friendly oxen. This lion should have completed the crossing long ago.

The leopard also appeared suspicious. “Where is your caravan?”

“Separated by ambush at the big bridge. Most of our wagons escaped. I fought until the snakes pushed our final wagon into the river. The whole wagon slid in, and so did I.” His sadness appeared genuine, at least. “Call me Cruwr. Take me with you.” He eyed me dismissively. “Surely you could use a truer swordpaw.”

The cheetah and leopard crouched together for discussion. Even as their guide, I was only a hired hand, so the decision was theirs. I would have sent the lion away. But when the cheetah glanced at me, it reminded me of her question about whether I’d made the crossing before, and I knew their answer.

* * *

Everything changed with Cruwr along.

When Cruwr pointed us toward a narrow trail that he claimed would avoid the bridge and also potentially a more direct route, I recommended against it. As the caravan’s guide, I preferred the trail I’d set us on. But the cheetah and leopard took Cruwr’s advice anyway.

We didn’t get far before we were forced to make camp. The ground underpaw turned to deep mud, where pulling the wagon made the donkey’s injury worse.

When snakes attacked our muddy camp in the evening, Cruwr struck faster than me. His sword was sharper. He wielded it better. While Cruwr butchered snakes, I once again sought out the fang spitter to end the ambush. Instead, I found a snake priest who bore a single giant fang.

He struck the fang into the mud and reared back to yell, “Defilers! Come with me and take your filth from our—” Cruwr sliced him in half before he could speak more. Then as the other snakes fled, Cruwr chased them down with swings of his steel sword that severed them against tree trunks. I was disgusted with him.

But Cruwr was beloved. The tiger cub still clung to me, but the other two cubs quickly took to Cruwr. He let them try to lift his sword and laughed fondly when they could not. When night fell, the cheetah and leopard seemed more relaxed to have him with us, even though he’d been the one to get us stuck.

He did all those things, but he would not speak to me.

I approached him several times, seeking to coordinate our efforts, seeking counsel about how to better protect the caravan. He wouldn’t let me finish a sentence before scoffing and walking away. His unspoken message was clear. I was a tiger who’d overstepped his place.

Worse, he scolded the tiger cub. She tripped, falling face first into mud, and he called her pathetic. He reminded her of her inability to fight. He called her a coward and a failure.

The rain fell heavier, and our injured donkey could not pull the cart. We were forced to remain in place in hopes that a full day’s rest might give him strength to pull the rest of the way out of the Heart of Rain.

* * *

Snakes attacked again. I heard the cubs screaming, so I raced to the wagon. Cruwr reached it first.

I found him ripping snakes away from the leopard and cheetah cubs but ignoring the tiger entirely. A snake was closing in on her, fangs bared to strike while she screamed louder and louder for help. Cruwr did nothing. No, he did worse than that. He laughed at her.

I pounced hard and tossed the snake outside.

With a furious growl at Cruwr, I put the tiger cub on my back and sought out her parents. I said, “Cruwr is dangerous and hateful. He must leave.”

Cruwr came out of the wagon with the other cubs riding on his shoulders. They giggled and didn’t seem to mind the snake blood on his fur and paws. Cruwr’s Judge emblem shone bright.

I said, “I know she is not your trueborn cub, but—”

“She is our daughter,” the leopard said with a hiss. “We are her mothers.” She plucked the tiger from my grip to nuzzle her close.

“We will discuss the matter with Cruwr,” the cheetah said.

I was not invited to that discussion. The rain stopped mercifully long enough for us to make a small campfire, and the cubs clustered near it for warmth. The donkey hung his ears to the side, relaxed.

The leopard and cheetah kept their voices quiet, but Cruwr was far too proud to whisper. I caught snarls of his words, “Disloyal…. greedy cats… only ever minding their own kind…”

The tiger cub whimpered.

I asked, “How about another story?” The other cubs snuggled closer. “The Judge’s sword—”

“Shoots lightning, we know. We can see it,” the leopard cub said. The cheetah cub shushed her with a soft shove, but they both stilled when lightning flashed. Cruwr’s trail had led us close to where the lightning struck.

“There was a time when his sword went missing. A bandit stole it in the night…” No, I’d chosen the wrong story, about an evil tiger. I shook my head.

“Tell us!” the cheetah cub yelled.

I tried a different story. “Another time, his armor…” No, that story too was about a terrible tiger. Cruwr’s words were digging into me. The tiger cub needed better, something to believe in.

“Are we getting a story or not?” the leopard cub asked. She put her head on her paws.

I chose my favorite. “There was a time before the Judge was a hero. When he was a cub much like you three, his family was attacked by—” tigers— “bandits who stole him away. The bandits demanded an impossible ransom. His parents tried to rescue him, but they were too weak to fight off the entire bandit horde. Next, his whole village tried to rescue him, but they failed too, for the bandits were simply too many. The Judge realized he’d have to rescue himself. Every day, bandits chased the young Judge around, poking him with swords, and the Judge learned how to dodge and move. Every day, he watched bandits train with their swords, and he learned to strike better than they could. The bandits claimed to be clever, but one day—”

“Telling tales about your betters?” Cruwr interrupted. The two adult cats were chasing after him, like he must have stormed off. He swept into a sneering bow. “My apologies for upsetting you earlier today. I’d foolishly imagined that a such grand tiger warrior would be capable of rescuing one of your own.” He paused to sneer at the cub. “Not that your kind merits rescuing.”

I snarled and reached for my sword.

“Hold.” The cheetah growled. She raced between me and Cruwr. To Cruwr she said, “You agreed to make peace, not inflame things with insults.”

Lightning flashed. I hoped the donkey could endure the next day’s march so we could finally be rid of Cruwr.

“When an inferior oversteps their place, they must be reprimanded,” Cruwr said. “Such actions are only natural.” He gave an exaggerated stretch of his back. “I find that saving all of your lives yet again has tired me out. Take the first watch, tiger. I’ll be sure to save you first tomorrow, since you’re such a weakling.”

I wanted to yell at him.

Instead, the tiger cub shrieked, “Cruwr, you don’t deserve to wear the Judge’s emblem. The Judge would be ashamed of you.”

He growled in anger, shifting his weight. When he reached for his sword, I sprang fast, grabbing his paw in my teeth.

With his other paw he swiped at me, but I’d already ducked away. Before, I’d angered him. Now I’d hurt his pride. I crouched low, ready for a bad reprisal.

Lightning flashed again.

“The Judge,” Cruwr said slowly, then laughed. “You tell stories about glorious lions while forgetting who those lions fought. It’s a shame nobody has shown you the truth.” He slunk to the edge of the firelight and curled up for sleep.

The cheetah and the leopard ducked their heads together in worried conversation.

While the others slept, I found myself glancing toward Cruwr more than I watched for snakes. Finally, the cheetah relieved me, and I curled up to rest.

It was still dark when the leopard shook me awake in a panic.

The tiger cub was missing. So was Cruwr.

* * *

In the dark, away from the trail, it would be harder to spot sudden drops into snake holes. Worse, in the rain, I might not be able to smell my way back to the caravan. “I’ll find her,” I said.

“He’d only kill you,” the leopard answered. “I’ll go. I can sneak through the trees.”

“Don’t go, mommy!” the leopard cub shrieked.

“I hate to say this, but… perhaps none of us should go,” the cheetah said. Her voice was quiet and pained. “When the sun rises, the snakes will descend upon us—”

The leopard growled. “You’d leave our daughter to that lion?”

“Cruwr is cruel, but if he means to punish Tam—”

“You wouldn’t dare say that if he’d stolen Ila.”

“But he didn’t.”

The duty of every guide since the Judge was to ensure their caravan survived with as many people as possible. If I chased after Cruwr, the cheetah was right that they might die without my protection.

I remembered the tiger cub shaking in fear in the wagon. How much more terrified must she be now, stuck with hateful Cruwr? I had to rescue her. I was going.

“He wants to humiliate me,” I said. “He wants to prove that he’s better with a sword, that he can strike me down. As if he has to prove such a thing.” I shook free of my bamboo armor and gave my brittle blade to the leopard. “Protect yourselves as best you can. Follow this trail. I vow to find your daughter and bring her to you.”

The donkey stomped in support.

I could smell Cruwr’s path, but I already knew where he’d gone. He was proud and wanted to teach me a cruel lesson. To find him, I had only to follow the lightning.

He’d taken her to the Judge.

* * *

The trail was perilous with holes and sudden streams. Snakes slithered overhead on branches but did not leap down on me. Perhaps they were showing strength, or perhaps they knew that the farther I went from my caravan, the easier of a target the rest of my group would be.

I followed the lightning along a flowing river of runoff lined with the wreckage of broken wagons until the tall trees suddenly thinned. I found an expanse of blasted mud covered in bones. In the middle of the mud stood a tall rock marked by a thousand snake holes.

Atop the rock, I saw the body of the Judge.

He hung high in the air, trapped by the skeleton of a gigantic snake, larger than any legend. The snake’s bones coiled tightly around him, as though in death the snake was still trying to crush his invincible armor. The Judge’s sword struck out through the top of the snake’s skull, point raised in the air. Sparks danced around the blade.

The Judge was dead. My hero was dead. I’d told so many stories about his invincible armor, his lightning sword, and his unflinching morals. He’d struck a killing blow, but his own armor had trapped him in place, like a cruel sculpture to eternal battle.

“So you see how goodness ends, how one failure draws others to their death,” Cruwr said from behind me.

I spun, claws extended to protect myself, but he stood well beyond my reach.

“Did you forget your sword, stupid tiger?” Cruwr was protected by his steel cuirass like a true warrior. His mane shone resplendent with raindrops. “Have you realized that you’ll never be a true guide?”

I didn’t see the tiger cub. I had no reason to hold to my pride like a lion would. I’d save her, no matter the cost. “Great lion,” I said, sweeping into a bow. “You have proven your point. I am no guide. Take the cub back to the caravan without me and help them leave. I will trouble you no further.”

Cruwr reared back with a laugh. “It’s a bit too late for all that.” He pointed at the rock.

I caught a flicker of movement from inside the snake skeleton. A striped paw. Cruwr had forced the cub inside the giant coils of bones. At least she was alive, but how many times had lightning struck on my way here? How could I even reach her without getting struck too? I’d have to climb the bones and pry her free before the Judge’s lightning could strike me down, as it had for so many tigers in stories before.

“You’ll never save her without one of these,” Cruwr said with another laugh. “Not that you are fit to wear one.” He raised his emblem and backed away into the trees. He was only baiting me to follow so he could slit me open. I ignored him. I had to rescue the cub.

A thin trail spiraled up the tall rock. I raced up and found myself at the thick base of the great snake skeleton. The cub screamed from higher up. The snake bones at the base coiled tightly. I tried to shove them apart, but the whole skeleton held. Other snake bones were wedged into the coils, as though many of them had attempted this climb before and failed.

I climbed the bones, closer to where sparks gathered brightly around the Judge’s sword. The Judge’s silver armor gleamed, still shining and invincible after so long. More sparks gathered. My fur rose.

I found the opening where Cruwr must have shoved the cub through.

“Climb this way!” I called.

The cub tried to reach me but kept slipping. The bones were slick from rain. I tried to wedge bones apart, but the opening was far too narrow for me. I needed another way in.

The Judge’s skeletal paw was still wrapped around his sword hilt. His blade plunged up through the snake’s skull. If I couldn’t free the cub, perhaps I could stop the lightning. I angled and kicked at the Judge’s arm. Sparks shivered up my leg, but I kicked again and again until the arm bones broke apart. His torso crumbled next, and his silver armor slid free from its long-coiled prison. But his sword hung in place, lodged in the snake’s skull, gathering stronger sparks.

The cub was screaming. My fur rose entirely, and I knew lightning was about to strike. “Get low to the ground!” I yelled to the cub. She didn’t hear me, only kept climbing closer, scrabbling in a panic up the slippery bones and reaching for me. She trusted me, and that trust would be her end.

I’d failed her. Lightning would shortly kill us both. In the end, I was no guide or hero. I was only the unworthy tiger everyone had always told me I was, reaching above my natural place, trying to be something I did not deserve. More sparks gathered, dancing across my fur.

“Tam! Help me!” the cub screamed.

No, I refused to let the cub die here. I grabbed the Judge’s sword hilt and wedged myself against the coiled bones as close as I could to the great snake’s skull. I pushed hard, and pushed again until I heard a snap. I pushed more, springing with my legs, and the skull pried free while I lost my balance.

I tumbled through the air with sword.

Lightning struck. My fur erupted in fire and everything flashed burning white.

* * *

“Give it up!” Cruwr shrieked. “Give me the sword!” He was raking at me to loosen my grip. The Judge’s sword was clenched in my paw. I couldn’t have let go if I wanted to. My body jolted involuntarily, then again.

The sword was sparking anew, gathering strength. I’d been lucky to survive a first blast. I wouldn’t survive a second.

Cruwr took a step back and drew his sword. Sparks danced across his cuirass. “I’ll cut it free,” he said. “I can be a new Judge. First among caravan guides. Imagine the riches.”

The Judge’s sword sparked more. Cruwr roared and raised his sword high to cut off my paw.

And the cheetah slammed into his side. He was so sturdy that she only staggered him, but she saved my life. Cruwr’s sword chunked down into the mud. The cheetah rolled away while Cruwr shook his sword free. He spun on her. I heard the tiger cub scream from nearby.

I was shaking and too weak to raise the Judge’s sword for battle, let alone swing it, but if I did nothing, the cheetah would die. The cub would lose her mother.

The Judge wouldn’t have given up. Neither could I.

I tried to get up and fight, tried to ready the sword.

I managed to point it.

And lighting erupted onto Cruwr, a column of bright burning death. It threw me back.

* * *

A paw batted lightly at my face. “Are you really still alive?” the cheetah asked. “How many lives have you lost today?”

The Judge’s sword lay next to me. It wasn’t sparking. My paw ached terribly.

“Cub?” I asked. I wanted to ask far more than that, but it hurt too much to talk. Where were the others? Why had the cheetah come for us, after trying to abandon her child?

“I got scared, and I chose wrong,” she said. “It was a mistake. I’m here now.”

I saw a flicker of movement from behind her, a striped tail. The cub poked out from behind her mother.

Cruwr’s charred remains lay face down in the mud. Raindrops fizzed on his burnt fur. His steel armor still shone, along with his necklace and the Judge’s emblem.

“Let’s return to the caravan,” the cheetah said. “The donkey can only fend off the snakes for so long.”

“Snakes won’t bother us anymore.” I’d understood what they’d wanted all this time. They’d called us defilers of the rock. The Judge’s lightning had rendered their home dangerous and inaccessible. How many snakes had failed to stop the lightning? The ground was littered with bones. “They can finally return home.”

All that remained was to remove the last of the Judge. And his armor.

I tried to get to my feet but stumbled. The cub darted out to support my weight with her back. Encouraged, I got up.

The Judge’s sword lay in the mud. If I touched it, would it call more lightning? It was one thing to tell stories about a hero who wielded magic. It had been another thing entirely to feel magic scorch through me and witness the destruction it wrought. In stories, the sword was a singular tool of justice. Now I saw it as a sparking border between life and death, a bright responsibility.

“Take the armor and sword,” the cheetah said. “They belong to you.”

The silver armor wouldn’t fit me. It’d been forged for a lion, and no lion smith would ever refit it for a tiger. I didn’t deserve it. But perhaps neither had the Judge. How much violence had he wrought upon the Heart of Rain by fighting the gigantic snake? How many caravans and travelers had been lost because of him?

I was making excuses. “I’m afraid.”

“Do not abandon what you’ve earned in fear that you aren’t good enough. Try instead to be worthy. Try always,” the cheetah said. “That’s all any of us can do.”

The cub nuzzled me.

My strength slowly returned. I sent the cheetah and her cub back to the caravan.

I took Cruwr’s emblem for my own, and then I buried him and the Judge together. It felt right, an acknowledgment that our many lives were messier than any simple legend, that all of us contained greed and pride and the sparks of heroism.

* * *

I found the donkey hitched to the wagon, ready to pull. The leopard and the cheetah nuzzled their tiger cub, holding her close, part of their family. The other two cubs mewled with awe at the sight of the silver armor and the sword. I was not the Judge, but I would try.

The snakes left my caravan unbothered. There would be more peace to be made with the snakes, reparations for old wrongs, new agreements to be made for safe crossings. That was for later. A peaceful rain fell, and we had a crossing to complete.

 

* * *

About the Author

Spencer Orey (he/him) is a Copenhagen-based anthropologist and graduate of Taos Toolbox and the Odyssey Writing Workshop. You can find him and more of his stories online at spencerorey.com and @spencerorey on Bluesky.

Many years ago, the writer and artist Patrick Scullin got on the radar of many furry fans with his illustrated steampunk adventure Pandamonium: Death of a King. Well, it turns out he’s still around, teaching graphic arts at Riverside City College in California — and, still finding time to make comics, some of them definitely furry! Ninja Pig, for instance, goes like this: “In a land where loyalty is sacred and betrayal is death, a noble samurai’s life is cut short  — not in war, but by the hand of a jealous brother-in-arms. But this warrior’s story doesn’t end with the blade. Through forbidden mystic arts, his soul survives — transferred into the body of the nearest living vessel: A humble, wallowing pig.” Then in a sillier vein, there’s Stray: Toaster Trouble. “The tale of a stray coyote and his band of misfit pets as they defend their suburban backyard with humor and heart from enemies foreign and domesticated.” Find both of these and more at the artist’s official web site.

image c. 2026 by Patrick Scullin

Dear Papabear,

Hi. It's a pleasure to meet you. I have a question since I'm bisexual, and ... the Bible says being with the same sex is bad. And I'm also poly with a bunch of boyfriends. If I repent, how do I break up with them? Only because I feel guilty with the same sex, which I'm trying my best not to fall into that again. If you could help me that would be great. I just don't want to hurt anyone. Thanks for reading this and still it's a pleasure to meet you, Papabear.

Rock (age 24)

* * *

Dear Rock,

You have no need to repent or to break up with anyone you don't want to break up with. You have done nothing wrong in God's eyes. There are many rules in the Bible--a book written by human beings, by the way--that are there to enforce social order and to encourage a stable society that can be controlled. Period. For example, there are many rules about what foods you can and can't eat (rules you probably violate because they are in the Old Testament and followed more by Orthodox and Conservative Jews these days than they are by Christians). For example, rules about eating pork found in Leviticus 11:7-8 and Deuteronomy 14:8 are there because back when these passages were written it was more dangerous to eat pork because it could make you sick. It was also prohibited to cook meat and milk together (Exodus 23:19 and 34:26, Deuteronomy 14:21) for similar reasons. The writers of the Bible put such rules in and say they are the commandments from God because, let's face it, it was a lot easier to make people obey dietary rules for their health by saying "God tells you to do it that way" than to explain how it might make you sick and that your leaders are the ones telling you to eat in certain ways. 

The same is true for any rules about sex in the Bible. In the Old Testament, it should be noted, King David had at least eight wives and many many concubines. King Solomon had a thousand wives and concubines. Do you think they are burning in Hell now? Probably not, although supposedly this is why God eventually divided Solomon's kingdom. David wasn't really punished for his eight wives per se, but he was mostly punished for fooling around with Bathsheba. Despite this, David and Solomon are considered Israel's greatest kings in history, and the Christians make it very clear that it is important to note that Jesus is a descendant of David in order to preserve the idea of a royal Jewish lineage.

Anyway, it's fair to say that in the Old Testament they were a bit more lax with the whole monogamy thing, and nobody seemed to mind concubines at all LOL. No, the real reason heterosexual, monogamous marriages are stressed are to create stable families for the sake of society. 

In this concise article from Psychology Today, psychologist Arash Emamzadeh explains the theories as to why religions such as Christianity stress rules enforcing monogamy. These include:

1. Monogamous parents tended to have more children than poly parents
2. They tended to raise healthy children more successfully
3. It was easier financially to raise children in a two-parent, monogamous household (more stable sources of food and shelter, for example)
4. Religious partners are seen as more stable and reliable to their mates, making a stable relationship also more likely

Another reason not discussed in the above article is that having a stable monogamous relationship greatly decreases--if not entirely eliminates--the possibility of sexually transmitted infections.

There is actually a lot to be said for the above. We have seen in modern society how increased promiscuity, the decline of the institution of marriage, and the destabilization of the traditional family have caused such problems as children living in one-parent homes and suffering increased financial hardships, psychological problems such as depression and anxiety, struggles in education, and even increased crime, drug use, and alcoholism. In short, Christians will tell you that being LGBTQ or poly or anything that is not hetero and monogamous is a "sin" (whether they do so consciously or subconsciously) because they are trying to control your behavior and they feel the only way to do this is to scare you and to make you feel like a bad person. It's a strategy that works, but it is also a strategy that causes a lot of trauma in people, including self-hatred and despair.

What I'm trying to explain, Rock, is that you are being made to feel guilty not because you are a bad person but because you are part of a society that is trying to control you for the benefit of the social order, and not because God will see you as a sinner (although according to Christians we are all sinners, so not sure why it matters).

I'm not saying don't be a Christian or don't be poly or don't be gay. You don't actually have to make a choice. There are many LGBTQ Christians out there. And there are also Christian Furry groups such as the Christian Furry Fellowship. I suggest you look into these churches and organizations to increase your chances of finding people of faith who will love and appreciate you for you. 

You are fine just the way you are, Rock. And you are loved.

Blessed Be,

Papabear

A Star Spore has crashed onto Earth, bringing with it creatures beyond our nightmares and slowly decimating the Earth and killing all life, including our protagonist, Sergeant Varlette. But, it seems Lady Luck had other plans as one of the aliens has decided to make your body it’s home and now, imbued with their powers (as well as the future knowledge that your head was up an alien’s butt), it’s up to you to use these gifts and fight back against the spore menace and save the world. I played many games that had crazy premises for alien invasion, but I don’t think I played any with a concept as wild and out there as ChainStaff, from developer Mommy’s Best Games (the same guys behind the seriously under-rated Serious Sam Double D XXL), and I mean that in a good way: This game is insane, wild, disgusting, beautiful, and I just couldn’t stop playing.

Furry is worldwide! Join us as we visit far-flung corners of this fluffy fandom. In this episode, the furries of Singapore tell us about their local fandom and what it's like being a furry there. This video was produced in partnership with Global Furry Television. You can join their Telegram group at t.me/chatgftv for updates on conventions and more. For their YouTube channel, follow this link: https://www.youtube.com/c/GlobalFurryTelevision This video was recorded in 2022. Want to share you scene with us? Reach out to us in the comments! Merch, Sweet Tees and stuff: https://culturally-fd-merchandise.creator-spring.com/ Support Culturally F'd: https://www.patreon.com/culturallyfd Listen in on TEMPO TALKS with Tempe O'Kun https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLIPk-itLl1jPyIK2c7mK-LpbvfDNqfcSW Check out Tempe O'Kun's books "Sixes Wild" and "Windfall" here: http://furplanet.com/shop/?affillink=YOUTU2907 Here's a playlist of his other Culturally F'd videos: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLIPk-itLl1jPS7tnT4hdJwBI-CeLF8Kb_

The Antarctic Circle is one not made for easily traveling through. It’s rough, intimidating, and bleakly mysterious. Nova Antarctica’s devs decided that’s exactly where we should challenge our players. So, I strapped on my weather-resistant suit and set off with nothing in my backpack but a hope and dream of reaching the South Pole. What followed was a challenging, frustrating, but ultimately rewarding experience that I’m only beginning to see the fruits of my labor from. Surprisingly, those fruits are pretty satisfying, even after all of the struggles. I originally started this game just after launch and didn’t get very far into the game, but then they put out a huge update a few months afterwards that transformed the playability of the game, and really allowed me to push further into the harsh lands they had set out before me.

COWCAT Games has announced Celsius Strays, a new visual novel spinoff in the BROK the Investigator series where the choices you make, and the relationships you build, shape the future of the story.

In Celsius Strays, you are the Chief of the Squealers. It has been nine years since the coup to save your people failed, and you were banished to a far corner of the Slums. Survival is a luxury here, with robotic death squads, a deadly climate, and power-hungry Slumlords all eager to snuff out the defiant remnant of rats.

Dear Papabear,

Hi there! This is my first time using this platform. Anyhow, I was wondering should I be a furry? My parents think I’m trying to get closer to these possive therians at school, but this is how I express myself. I’m not sure if I want a fursona head but my parents say it’s OK. What do you think I should do?

Chip da Cat (age 10)

* * *

Hi, Chip,

Thank you for your letter. Please read the following and have your parents read it, too, for their information.

To answer you, it all depends on what you mean by being a furry. If for you it simply means enjoying furry cartoons, movies, TV shows, etc., and maybe getting a fursuit head, there is certainly nothing wrong with that. And if you have some friends in school who are furries or therians and you enjoy hanging out with them, that is also okay. Another option is to invite furry friends to your home, where you can play games or watch TV shows, which is a safe and fun activity. Now, I'm not sure what a "possive" therian is, but you should know that therians aren't really the same as furries. Indeed, the people who call themselves "therians" these days use a different definition than we did back before you were born. Often, it means simply wearing ears and a tail and running around doing quadrobics (running on all fours). This is usually harmless, although as you know human beings were not meant to run on all fours, so this activity can potentially cause injury to your back, hands, and joints. Here is some helpful information on that which you should read, please: Quadrobics: Ultimate Guide to All-Fours Fitness [2025].

If you want to get active in the fandom and do something like go to a furry convention (furcon), then you will of course need your parents to accompany you since you are 10 years old. Many cons allow minors such as yourself to attend as long as a parent or guardian accompanies them, but some do not. I don't know where Broadmoor Rd is, since you do not provide a city or state, but you can look up conventions using this handy resource: Future Furry Convention Calendar | FurryCons.com. If there is a convention near you, check out their website to see what guidelines they have concerning attendees under the age of 18.

When it comes to the furry online community, this is a trickier thing. You need to be aware--if you are not already--that there is a lot of "adult" material online. This is true of furry and non-furry stuff alike when it comes to the internet, and even if you are not doing furry stuff on your computer or phone (if you have a phone), you should always have a parent supervise what you are doing. It sounds like your parents are pretty cool, so this should be something you talk to them about. There are a lot of nice people online, but sometimes there are bad people such as bullies and trolls, and you really have to be careful about that, Chip, sorry to say. 

When done correctly, the furry community can be a great way to have fun and make new friends as well as express yourself creatively. At your young age, though, you should do it with parental supervision at all times. When parents and kids team up to have fun, it can be a wonderful thing, and I feel pretty confident in saying that your parents are open to that, so that is great!

If you or your parents have further questions, please feel free to write me directly at this email address.

Welcome to the Fandom :3

Bear Hugs,
Papabear
​

拉丁美洲兽迷在新影片中讲述在地成本、参与条件与社会接受度

Imagine this: You’re on the playground(or maybe the park) and decide it’s a good time to break out Pokemon GO or a similar app and go hunting for cute creatures that might be hiding around the landscape. This is the premise behind Critterrupters, the newest critter catching adventure being developed by Isle of Swaps dev Fuzz Force. I’ve been given the wonderful opportunity to play and share my thoughts on a pre-alpha build of it and I have to say, there is a lot of potential here.

The rain pours, and behind the clouds is the spring sun! Welcome to the month of April, all you lovely writers and authors out there! My name is Flash Kitterson, and I’ll be taking over as president for the time being! I’m a black furry author that’s been with the community forever now! Gabe decided to step down to focus more on her company, Doppelfoxx Publishing. It’s a new Pub House that furry authors can publish with. You can message her for more details! We appreciate Gabe for helping as President with the short amount of time she had, and wishing her the best on her future endeavors!

April is also election month! Guild members can shoot their shots at positions within the Officer crew. To go after a certain position, you can make a post on the Discord in the “guild officer elections” channel. The deadline is the end of April to announce candidacy.

Don’t forget that the Cóyotl Awards for 2025 are still open for nominations! They close next week on April 5th.
https://coyotlawards.com/2025-coyotl-awards-nominations/

Contact any of the Officers if you have any questions, comments, or concerns. We’re here to help you the best we can!

Thanks for reading! Keep on writing and supporting your fellow furry authors!

-Flash Kitterson

Here are the current open markets for your short stories!
CLAW Vol. 2 – Deadline April 30, 2026
This Is Halloween – Deadline When Full
Children Of The Night – Deadline When Full

Also a few side markets!
Tales from the Cryptids – Deadline April 30th, 2026
WERE-2 – Deadline July 31st, 2026
Zine Machine

Please also check out the latest book releases from our members:
The Bones Behind the Glass, by Renard Avec-Histoire, Released August 18, 2025.
Gravitational Pull, by Ty Fox, Released August 19, 2025.
Tikadi’s Gift, by Moth Flutterby, Released October 17, 2025.
Thorns, by Roscoe G. Beetle, Released October 31, 2025.
Legend of Ahya: A Divinity Decayed [Book 5], by Matthew Colvath, Released Nov. 30, 2025.
The Wideness of the World: An Early Modern Anthology, Released December 13, 2025.
The Analog Cat and Other Animals, by Alice Dryden, Released December 2025.
Tethers Torn [Book 2], by Utunu, Released March 2026.
Archon [Book 2], by Mark Smith, Released March 27th, 2026.

Arrkay has so many zines to catalogue! Keep him company while he and Tempe O'kun chat about vintage furry art and writing and the furries we meet along the way. Merch, Sweet Tees and stuff: https://culturally-fd-merchandise.creator-spring.com/ Support Culturally F'd: https://www.patreon.com/culturallyfd Listen in on TEMPO TALKS with Tempe O'Kun https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLIPk-itLl1jPyIK2c7mK-LpbvfDNqfcSW Check out Tempe O'Kun's books "Sixes Wild" and "Windfall" here: http://furplanet.com/shop/?affillink=YOUTU2907 Here's a playlist of his other Culturally F'd videos: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLIPk-itLl1jPS7tnT4hdJwBI-CeLF8Kb_

Dear Papabear,

I’ve read many of your columns, and I’ve always admired how kind and thoughtful you are with the people who write to you. I’ve been nervous about reaching out, but I finally worked up the courage because I don’t really know who else to ask about this.

I’m a woman IRL, but my fursona is a male coyote. He helps me express myself more freely and feel more confident socially. I also tend to connect more easily with guys than with women, so having a male fursona feels natural and comfortable for me.

I want to be honest about that in my profile, but I’m not sure how to say it in a way that’s clear without sounding awkward or like I’m trying to hide something. My worry is that people might think I’m being deceptive or “catfishing” because I’m female behind a male character. I’m happily married and only looking to make positive friendships, but I’m afraid people might misunderstand.

In the past, I’ve had several friendships with women end in betrayal, while my friendships with men have generally been more straightforward and honest. That’s part of why a male fursona feels safer for me, even if I’m not sure how to explain that ^o^;;;

I also know that male characters are more common and tend to get more attention in the furry fandom, and I’m worried that having a male fursona might look like I’m trying to take advantage of that, especially since I hope to take commissions in the future.

I don’t want to mislead anyone or make people uncomfortable. Could you help me understand whether it’s okay to have a male fursona as a woman, and how to navigate this in my profile without crossing any boundaries?

Thank you for your time and for all the kindness you show in your work.

Anonymous

* * *

Dear Furiend,

Thank you for your kind words and for your letter on an interesting issue. I could probably talk about this topic for many pages, but I will try to keep my reply fairly concise yet informative.

To begin with, judging by your letter, you are not trans but are fine with being a woman IRL. It's just that you enjoy projecting a male sex in your fursona for the sake of personal interactions within the fandom. I will write my response with this in mind.

There are two main points to respond to in your letter. I, being very German in my attitudes, will now proceed with a very short numbered list :3

1. Male characters (fursonas) are more common than females in the fandom for the simple fact that there are a lot more men actively participating in the fandom than women. According to FurScience, males outnumber females by a margin of about 3 to 1. There are many reasons for this, really, that have to do with the fact that young males, especially, tend to be the largest demographic in fantasy, sci fi, and other fandoms in general. When it comes to fantasy/sci-fi, genre writing tends to be of a type that is packed with action and violence and dangerous adventures, which are subjects that tend to appeal more to the masculine gender. The furry fandom is strongly tied to these genres, too, as well as to anime, which tend to, again, have plots dealing with action. Women, on the other hand, tend more to enjoy fiction involving romance, mysteries, political intrigue, and generally less-violent plots. This is, I must stress, a gross generalization, but it tends to be true. There are, of course, women who like more action, and so it is not surprising that there is a good percentage of women furries (about 25%, a figurte, I believe, that is increasing), just not a majority. If you are someone who also likes action and adventure, furry fiction can definitely provide that. Also (have to mention), males tend to be more attracted to adult themes of which there is a preponderance in this fandom.

2. You do not have to be LGBTQIA to be interested in exploring a fursona of an opposite gender. I would like to compare this to the phenomenon of male cross dressers. As you might know, about 80% of cross dressers are cis hetero males, followed by cis gay males, neither of whom have any desire to transition. According to this article, some reasons that men cross dress include a simple exploration of one's feminine side, an enjoyment of the comfort of women's fashions (styles and materials), and release of tensions of trying to always conform to societal standards of what males should be. Now, in your case, being a woman who enjoys socializing with men, do you also enjoy wearing "men's" clothing more and perhaps other "male" things such as football, fast cars, working with tools, etc.? If so, that certainly doesn't mean you want to be a man, just that you like those things. As for the simple act of socializing, you are not alone there. My mother, for one, was like you: She always preferred to hang out with men who, she also felt, tended to me more direct in conversations, more forthright.

Believe it or not, there have been studies on women and the sex with which they prefer to hang out and how other women perceive them. In general, women tend to see same-sex friendships with women as being nurturing and supportive and good for one's well-being while women who prefer hanging with men are seen as looking for romantic and sexual partners. This is not surprising. "On the other hand," according to this 2022 PsyPost article, "women who have mostly male friends may see women who engage in same-sex friendships as jealous or needy." The article continued: "Results showed that women who preferred friendships with men were more hostile and less trusting towards other women ... [and] women viewed the female target as not being trustworthy based on the stated preference for male friendships. Additionally, women who preferred cross-sex friendships had more mating success and reported more unrestricted sexual freedom." Since you are happily married, the sexual relationship factor isn't relevant to your preference for male friends. Also, other women might be suspicious of your motives and would therefore be less likely to extend offers of friendship. So, you might garner more animosity from women in the fandom. Also, you are right that it might be seen as a "move" on your part to try to gain more popularity. Drama and neurotic competition for validation and approval in the fandom is common, although usually it comes about for other reasons such as jealousy over fursuits or who gets the most attention at cons or in TikTok videos.

But you did not create a male fursona to be a popufur nor did you do it to find a romantic or sexual mate. You just did so because, as you said, you enjoy the company of men more. Is what you are doing "catfishing"? It is only catfishing if you are not honest about your true identity. I would, therefore, be very open and upfront about your true sex when making friends or even acquaintances online. If you are starting to make a new friend and are having an informative, sharing moment with them, just tell them early on that your fursona may be male but IRL you're a married woman and you adopt your male fursona for RPGs and social interactions in the fandom. (You are certainly not the only one who has done this.) If someone has a problem with that, then just acknowledge it and move on. No harm done. 

In your profile, just state the facts, a la, "Hi! My name is X, my fusona is This Name and he is a coyote etc. etc. In my real life, my name is XX and I am a happily married woman living in Arizona. I love the fandom because of Z and Q, and I enjoy interacting with furries in adventures and social scenes as a male coyote because that is simply where I feel most comfortable. If you want to chat and learn more about me, DM me anytime!" or something along those lines.

You know, in fantasy fandoms like the furry world, everyone is exploring the possibilities of being other characters. I mean, I'm not really a bear hehe; you're not really a coyote. My fursona, Grubbs, loves to fish, but I haven't fished in 40 years; he's also a lot more chill than I am. OCs are fun ways to explore aspects of ourselves in a safe environment, and experimenting with sex, gender, and sexuality, as well as age, race, abilities, and so on. These are all ways of exploring ourselves and our possibilities. Almost no one has a fursona that is exactly like they are (ignoring the obvious exterior differences).

Just be honest with everyone in your profile, and you'll be fine.

If you have more questions or need some clarifications, hit me up any time.

Bear Hugs,
Papabear

Oh no! You’re a duck who has been turned into a human! Now you find yourself indebted to the Goddess who saved you, and they need you to help them find stuff for people so that she can regain her power. You establish a new company to do just that, and Lost and Found Co. is born. Thus begins one of the greatest point-and-click searching games ever made.

Author G.W. Olson has a new science fiction novel out, Tears of a Thousand Years — proudly featuring a cast of various non-human furry species. “On her first assignment as a Rememberer, Vega travels to Small Home, the newest planet the Race adopted. The planet’s inhabitants, the Caelings, are a friendly native species with an agrarian culture. Vega has heard reports of a native who performs miracles, and she wants to record him and other Caelings for her people because she knows that someday the Caelings will be gone. She takes her younger brother to assist her and travels into the back-country to find this miracle worker. The townspeople tell her amazing stories about Tantea, the teacher of miracles. When Vega meets him, she believes he is a charlatan –until Tantea picks out the star she comes from in the night sky and convinces her. Yet, a miracle worker is hard to fool. When he finds out the Race’s longevity and indifference always result in Vega’s people destroying the native populations with their carelessness, he becomes furious and decides to grant Vega a miracle she inadvertently asked for — one that will throw her entire civilization into chaos but gives her people a chance at redemption.” Take a look over at Barnes & Noble.

image c. 2026 Belle Isle Books

Furries tend to know what kind of merch furries want. So what happens when non-furries try to make stuff for furries? One word: Cringe. The cast laugh (and shudder) at the “furry” merchandise some mainstream companies think we want.

Note: This is a highly visual episode. We recommend watching it on our YouTube channel to fully enjoy all of the merch we found.

Episodes are now streamed live on Twitch.tv. After which, the video and audio only formats will be posted after the stream. You can find us on Twitch at FurWhatItsWorth!

NOW LISTEN!

SHOW NOTES Thank you!

Those that were able to join the livestream!

To all of our listeners! And your continued support!

PATREON LOVE

THANK YOU to our patreons! You help us keep the show going!

A Cookie Factory – OwO

*empty*

A Pallet of Cookies

Nuka

A Case of Cookies

Basel the Dragon, Black Baldrik, Ichigo Ookami (Pic Pending), Lufis the Raccoon

A Jar of Cookies

 

Alex the Piian (Pic Pending), MephistophEli, Miles Seawind (Pic Pending), Plug, Sirene Tokala (Pic Pending)

A Box of Cookies

• JakeFoXx
• Juke Hyena
• Lygris

A Delicious Cookie

• Ausi K
• AspenTheCurious
• Barnaby Panda
• Bass Blitzed
• Bunbe
• Citrus Fox
• Gary Holland
• Puzzleboy
• Ralley
• Sage Lightfang
• TyR52
• Victor Mutt

MUSIC

• Intro: RetroSpecter – Cloud Fields (RetroSpecter Mix). USA: Unpublished, 2018. ©2011-2018 Fur What It’s Worth. Based on Fredrik Miller – Cloud Fields (Century Mix). USA: Bandcamp, 2011. ©2011 Fur What It’s Worth
• Patreon: Inflammatus – The Tudor Consort, Creative Commons 2019
• Closing: Cloud Fields (RetroSpecterChill Remix), USA: Unpublished, 2018. ©2011-2018 Fur What It’s Worth. Based on Fredrik Miller – Cloud Fields (Chill Out Mix). USA: Bandcamp, 2011. ©2011 Fur What It’s Worth

S12E9 – Mainstream “Furry” Merch

Content Warning: This episode talks about death and loss. Which can be a difficult topic for many of us.

When the loss of a loved one hits you, it shakes the world around you. Maybe you feel nothing, and maybe you feel every emotion at once. The cast and community members talk about loss and how it affects us.

Episodes are now streamed live on Twitch.tv. After which, the video and audio only formats will be posted after the stream. You can find us on Twitch at FurWhatItsWorth!

NOW LISTEN!

SHOW NOTES Thank you!

Scruffy, Jay, Gogashi, Azure, MephistophEli, Timid, LandDragon, Citrus, and Sotolo for sharing your emails, pictures, and videos!

Those that were able to join the livestream!

To all of our listeners! And your continued support!

PATREON LOVE

THANK YOU to our patreons! You help us keep the show going!

A Cookie Factory – OwO

*empty*

A Pallet of Cookies

Nuka

A Case of Cookies

Basel the Dragon, Black Baldrik, Ichigo Ookami (Pic Pending), Lufis the Raccoon

A Jar of Cookies

 

Alex the Piian (Pic Pending), MephistophEli, Miles Seawind (Pic Pending), Plug, Sirene Tokala (Pic Pending)

A Box of Cookies

• JakeFoXx
• Juke Hyena
• Lygris

A Delicious Cookie

• Ausi K
• AspenTheCurious
• Barnaby Panda
• Bass Blitzed
• Citrus Fox
• Gary Holland
• Puzzleboy
• Ralley
• Sage Lightfang
• TyR52
• Victor Mutt

MUSIC

• Intro: RetroSpecter – Cloud Fields (RetroSpecter Mix). USA: Unpublished, 2018. ©2011-2018 Fur What It’s Worth. Based on Fredrik Miller – Cloud Fields (Century Mix). USA: Bandcamp, 2011. ©2011 Fur What It’s Worth
• Patreon: Inflammatus – The Tudor Consort, Creative Commons 2019
• Closing: Cloud Fields (RetroSpecterChill Remix), USA: Unpublished, 2018. ©2011-2018 Fur What It’s Worth. Based on Fredrik Miller – Cloud Fields (Chill Out Mix). USA: Bandcamp, 2011. ©2011 Fur What It’s Worth

S12E8 – Death in the Fandom

Animals Rule This Land is the very odd and ambitious graphic novel from first-timer Luke Milton, available in hardcover from Black Panel Press. “The world has ended- you’re the only human left in a village full of erratic- freshly-evolved animals- and a maniacal rabbit in a vest is gifting you a blood-covered toaster. They say they want to be friends- so why are you constantly being drugged and threatened by henchmen- kidnapped and insulted by the dog next door- and falling prey to a seemingly friendly duck who’s running an unnecessarily complicated bread scam?” Check out the review and preview at Slings and Arrows.

image c. 2026 Black Panel Press

以茶会毛《猎人盛宴》活动 三天活动逾千人参与

Something beyond words compelled me to try out Bonnie Bear Saves Frogtime. With its simple design, off-beat characters, and the question of “what the heck is frogtime” needing to be answered, I clicked start and began a little adventure that kept me guessing, laughing, and transported into a world beyond words. At the heart of it all is this mysterious “Frogtime” game that everyone in the game is absolutely obsessed with. No one has a qualm with quelling quarrels with this simple to understand yet deceptively strategic Chinese Checkers-like experience, where the goal is to move your frogs from one end of a game board to the other while your opponent tries to do the exact same thing. You never know who (or what) you’ll be playing Frogtime against, but it’s the engine that drives the funky comedic trip that is Bonnie Bear Saves Frogtime. It’s off-kilter, made from a place of surely beautiful personalities, and always runs parallel to a feeling of community and friendship.