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quosterswampdregs · 18 days ago

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Stun Spore Stubbornness

NEW OC NEW OC!! I'm gonna get the popular votes out soon, but I've been reading the responses from this poll and drawing out some of the ideas that I really liked. This is one of them, which called for a Pokémon anthro Arcanine and nothing more. I fleshed out the idea to make a jock team-leader for a college team, who parades around a university with a pack of goons behind her.

Anyway, this fic features her and two of her top goons, Keegan and Brando, who get wound up in stun spore after bullying a buddew named Oren.

Below's a fic to go with it!! Pokemon nerds will get all the little refrences and moves that I added to it, so if you're a fan, look out for those!!

Stun Spore Stubbornness

Nyx held a large sports ball under one arm and against her hip. She surveyed the field with squinted burgundy eyes. Usually, this time on Tuesdays, the field would be completely empty and free for the taking. It was something that the University’s weather ball team had scheduled week in and week out—so to see the field instead occupied by a small collective of grass and fairy types with books on the turf made her blood boil.

“Phoenyx, we’ve got a situation,” a voice emerged from behind her, belonging to a houndour that barely came up to her hips in height. She curled her lip down at him and the approaching hisuian growlithe, both matching in varsity jackets and sports jerseys.

“Ugh,” she flicked an ear dismissively. “I can see that. Keegan, go sniff things out.”

Upon hearing his name and orders, the growlithe sprang to attention and rushed ahead with a chipper ‘yes ma’am,’ and a wagging tail. She swallowed a smirk as he left—what? She couldn’t help how amusing it was to see him practically rolling over at any task she gave him. As for the houndour… “Brando! Why are you sitting there? Go with him!”

“Oh-!! Sorry!” And off he went in pursuit. Phoenyx watched intensely from the window, shifting her stance and fluffing her mane. She couldn’t hear the back and forth between the two hounds and the group on the turf. The whimsicott there seemed to blatantly ignore them, the ribombee flew over to their eye level for a chat. There was a leafeon in a plaid skirt and round spectacles who gestured as if to shoo them away. There were a few others there she simply couldn’t make out from this angle and this distance, but it was enough for the duo to take paces backward with considerable pause. Amateurs, where was their spark?! How could it be so hard to tell a couple of grass types to get lost!?

Huffing twin flames from her nostrils, she shouldered herself outside and began to make her way over. Just the thought of having to put these grassy gliders in their place and get her own goons in order was giving her a bit of temper flare; it summoned fierce flames which clouded around her clenched teeth and gathered up against her flaring nostrils, occasionally licking outward with every huff.

She heard an audible “look out” from the Ribombee as she stomped their way. Clearly, her natural intimidation was working, as the ribombee and whimsicott roused in favor of beginning to pack up. Keegan, the hisuian growlithe, wiggled his fingers tauntingly.

“Keheheh!! Not so brave now, huh? Better hide before Nyx stuffs ya in a locker!” Unbelievable, truly. Must she do everything herself around here? As she closed the distance, her hand reached out to grab Keegan by his entire head—her palm was just that big to envelop his skull and get a good grip.

“Can it, punk!!” She snarled, chewing menacingly on the flames spilling from her throat and pooling on her tongue. Her eyes trailed up to the spectacled Leafeon, who was adjusting her glasses with one hand and her sweater vest with the other.

“Oh—urg…we were just leaving. Right, guys? …guys?”

Nothing. In fact, empty space sat where a whimsicott, ribombee, hoppip, and lurantis were supposed to be; they had left no trace but fallen leaves and vague outlines of dust. The leafeon’s movements doubled as she grabbed her shoulder bag and rose to her feet. “H-hey!! Wait up!! Come on, Oren!”

Initially confused, Phoenyx looked down to see what the leafeon left behind as she ran off—or rather, who left themselves behind. A little budew, whose face was scrunched in a tiny scowl and whose stance was wide.

“You all are just a big bucket of bullies!!” He insisted, shouting with all of his might, which barely reached her ears. “You could’ve just asked us to move!!”

“Yeah?? Well, nerds like you should’ve read the schedule today, you would’ve known this ain’t your space to begin with!!” Brando, the Houndour, barked. “This field’s for the weather ball team now!! There’s about to be like twenty of us out he—”

“Brando!!” Nyx chuffed, lifting her fingers before balling them tight to get him to shut his yap. She looked down at the budew, who quickly realized his lonesome against three fire hounds was an uphill battle, and took two trembling paces back. He turned and hopped away, only to trip and eat the turf not even a foot away. Setting Keegan down, she gestured with her finger for him to go around Oren and block his exit—he wouldn’t be getting away from this conversation easily, not if she had something to say.

“Listen up, leech seed,” Fire cloaked every word she got her teeth around, spewing outward with every ‘s’ sound. “Have you ever seen a florges with no flowers? A wooloo with no wool?! Better yet, you ever see a sudowoodo look like charcoal? That’s what happens to dweebs like you who get in my way. Now you wanna blow taunts on my territory? Puff out your pods?! I’ll knock you out!! Better yet, turn you to ash—a nurse wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“P-please!” The budew whimpered, standing up clumsily before running, only to collide with Keegan’s knee and fall helplessly on his back. He was masterfully balanced onto Keegan’s foot before the growlithe began to dribble him from foot to foot like a soccer ball. He passed the poor soul to Brando, who bounced him off his chest and onto his head, before sending him skyward with a headbutt. Phoenyx grabbed the puny grass type in a fist, much like one would snag a baseball before an opening pitch.

“Look at this little punk,” she cracked a wide grin, “I could just eat you up. Leafy sprouts make a dog big and strong, y’know.”

“D-don’t—! I’m poisonous!!” He whimpered, voice cracking and leaping an octave.

“Pah!! I’ve turned a koffing into a chew toy, big deal!”

As she snarled and neared the budew to her maw, a cry of terror and fear escaped him with an explosion of yellow dust. The pods above him burst open, revealing red and blue dots that were throbbing with powder. Some sort of defense mechanism, one that he was clearly deeply mortified of releasing.

“Huff—snRKKFF!!” Purely reactionary, but it pulled clouds of the stuff into her waiting nostrils. The sensation was like feathers at first, thick particles of spores and pollen nuzzling up against her nasal walls, powdering her septum and turning it yellow. Her nostrils began flaring and flexing, one at a time, sometimes lifting high, other times narrowing with irritation. Then her muscles suddenly cramped and locked up. Her shoulders tensed, her fingers unclasped and bent into claw shapes, and her nostrils were forced at full flare, inviting more and more of the powder into them with every confused breath.

Stun spore; Phoenyx was paralyzed! Crackles of shock clawed across her fur and made it stand on end. She felt arcs of static leaping about inside her nostrils, exciting and firing off any nerve it bumped against.

Upon realization, the budew stood up in her palm, looking a bit spent and hugely embarrassed. “G-guh-!! Sorry!!” He panted, hopping out of her paralyzed hand and onto the turf. He scurried off between Keegan’s legs and towards the bleachers, but before Keegan could turn in pursuit, Brando grabbed his shoulder to halt him.

“Uhh, Keegs? What do we do about…?”

“Nyuh?? Wuh-oh,” Keegan’s eyes became visible behind his low bangs as the Arcanine before them twitched, before drawing a large breath.

“hHUHH—!! UTCHHhh’hEEE!!” Her first sneeze was just as loud as it was strong. Flames burst from her mouth and nose as her ears pinned in aggravation. The two leapt out of the way of the gouts, falling to the turf.

Nyx lifted her head again. The tickle inside her nose was unearthly, unlike anything she had ever felt before. It was magnified by the piercing scent of burning rubber from the artificial turf below. As she snorted and coughed, she pinched and rubbed her nose desperately between her paw pads. There were too many spores in her nose, she needed to burn it out of her system!

But the paralysis was unpredictable. One moment, she was fanning her face and snorting with fury; the next, her arms would lock up, and she’d bite her tongue. She’d begin hitching, huffing, only for her face to freeze in a desperate pre-sneeze expression, leaving only her nostrils to flex and flare beyond her control. With her jaw clamped shut, she could only snort and huff through her nostrils, which inevitably sucked more and more powder into her twitching nose. The more spores dancing about inside her nose, the more static bounced around ceaselessly, inching her closer and closer to a sneeze. One that, at this point, she was desperate to release, just to get it over with.

It was at its worst when her canine nostrils would flare open wide, only for the static shock of stun spore to lock the muscles in place. It left them impossible to close, even if she could move her arms freely. Jaws frozen shut in a snarling expression, but borderline whimpering from the insatiable tickle invading her nostrils with every passing second. She brought her hands up to her nose, angrily pressing and shoving at her septum to smother the tickle or fruitlessly massage her nose back into working order. She pinched at her nostrils, but much like a fully flexed bicep, it was nearly impossible to squeeze down. She pressed her palm to her huffing nares, violently swiping her hand back and forth. But alas—nothing. As a last resort, she brought up her pinkie fingers and plugged her nostrils with the finger pads. Given all her desperate snorting and sniffing, they slotted perfectly snug into place. It worked initially to halt the sensation, but her arms and hands locked up as well, keeping whatever spores and scents trapped inside her muzzle. The irritants had nowhere to travel but deeper into her membranes, tickling and teasing her furthest reaches. She had been balancing on this sneeze endlessly, to Keegan’s and Brando’s concern (and slight amusement).

“Surely you must have learned your lesson by now!”

Nyx’s ear flickered as her only measure of attentiveness, but her eyes were pinched shut. She could hear something buzzing by her ear, and tiny little chitinous feet landed on her nose. Her nose began vibrating with the rapid buzzing of the creature's wings. It must have been that ribombee, whom she hadn’t cared to learn her name.

“Hey!!” Keegan barked, “you—!! You leave Nyx alone!”

“Yeah, yeah! Buzz off!!” Brando added quickly.

“Trust me, I don’t want her all paralyzed either. Help me out, would you two? Grab her arms, she needs some aromatherapy!

The two dogs, with nothing better to do, shrugged and complied. Keegan rolled up his sleeves before leaping up to grab Nyx’s upper arm. He weighed it down, releasing her fingerpad from her nostril with a satisfying suction sound. The same was done with the other, only it took Brando two attempts to leap as high and grab her arm. With her nostrils free and huffing fresh air, the ribombee held onto the tip of her nose, looking down at the twin caverns below. Her long brown scarf dangled and draped, tickling at her twitching septum. Her yellow fur bristled as a thick, sweet scent poured from her and clouded the area. It alone was enough to get Keegan and Brando sniffing curiously at the air. Afterwards, only as Phoenyx’s nose began violently twitching once more, the ribombee fluttered up and out of the way. Her work here was done!

All of the acanine’s muscles relaxed at once. She got weak in the legs and arms for only a moment, and her ears drooped in relief. When she found her strength again post-paralysis, her first order of business was to shake off the two goons holding onto her arms. As the two fell onto the ground, she reared her head back and parted her maw with a tremendous gasp.

“hHUH—!! HAAH..!!”

“Scram, Brando!” Keegan yipped, and the Houndour didn’t need to be asked twice. “Hey—!!”

“Wah!!” He shoved past, waving his arms as if it’d help him run any faster. Keegan was much less concerned—his dual typing would mean half the pain that Brando would ever be dealt, after all.

“HAH—hhH! HATCHH’IEE!! hhHAADSCHEE!!” She sneezed violent clouds of fire, which rocketed between her clenched teeth and out of her nostrils. If anything would incinerate the irritants in her nose, it was that. Afterwards, she staggered back, bleary and shivering from overexerted muscles.

“Yeesh, Nyx! You good?” Keegan wandered up as she sighed, drooling from a dry mouth.

“Ngh..! Fine,” she growled, considerably more toned down. She didn’t dare eye the ribombee who blessed her, nor the grass types hiding behind the bleachers. She couldn’t even find Oren, who was doubtlessly over there soaking in the last laugh. Damn it all! “Boys!! Go set up the field. I’m grabbing the rest of the team.”

With that, Phoenyx marched off, hiding the mortified blush across her cheeks.

#furquo #snzblr #furquo art #furry snz #snz art #furquo fic #snzfic #phoenyx the arcanine

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quosterswampdregs · 20 days ago

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Let's make a furry OC!!

I realize I need more OCs for tumblr on this side of my blog, so I'm opening up a google forms!!

Feel free to fill out this form as many times as you would like; the more responses I get, the more I can use this form in the future! I'll be taking the majority votes for this week to make a new OC!

THE FORM IS HERE

#last reblog of the day for thiiisss #furry snz #furquo art #snz art #snzblr #snz

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quosterswampdregs · 21 days ago

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Let's make a furry OC!!

I realize I need more OCs for tumblr on this side of my blog, so I'm opening up a google forms!!

THE FORM IS HERE

#morning reblog for the morning snz girls gays and theys #furquo #snzblr #snz prompts #snz ocs #snz #sneeze kink #sneeze fetish #if you already submitted one feel free to submit like 5 more

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quosterswampdregs · 21 days ago

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Reopening this form for a new OC! I think it’s about time a new face pop up…

Help me make a Furry SNZ OC!!

Let's make a furry OC!!

I realize I need more OCs for tumblr on this side of my blog, so I'm opening up a google forms!!

THE FORM IS HERE

#furquo art #furry snz #snz art #snz prompts #snzblr #snz #snz fetish

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quosterswampdregs · 27 days ago

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A corresponding fic to go with this! This fic comes with a few extra scenes that play with the idea of the parachute, as well as some rather cartoony scenes involving a barn. enjoy!!

A Rough Landing.

As the clouds parted and the ground became visible, a fox began their descent from a recent skydiving venture. Goodness knows how far out they were from the city; what only mattered now was how slowly they were cresting with the wind on a pleasant afternoon. Rolling green hills were peppered with forests and hollows, a magnificent river shimmered in the afternoon light, and flocks of geese soared past.

A deep bellowing noise sounded below. A blast of warm air came from underneath, too, flooding the parachute and causing a moment of strange lift. The source was spotted after only a moment's glance down. Below them, a gigantic canine lay sprawled out across a secluded valley, where abandoned wheat fields and ears of corn lay undisturbed. This giant was quite large as far as macros came, adorned with brown spotted fur. The illustrious warden of the harvest, who was often spoken of as traversing the countryside. Nolki was his name, one of the few giants in the region, who was currently snoozing away on his back, resting his head on the roof of an abandoned barn. This was the closest the fox had ever gotten to seeing him!

Suddenly, the wind was no longer supporting their parachute. They began falling, quicker, until another flood of warm wind could catch their descent. They only had a few seconds to collect themselves before it happened again—a moment of weightlessness, followed by a moment of warmth. Each felt oddly timed with Nolki’s breath, and each pulled them closer to its source. Three hundred feet became two hundred fifty, then two hundred, and below even that…and each loss of height drew the fox closer to the flaring, trembling nose beneath them.

There was a hurried attempt to redirect the parachute, tugging on the cords to no avail. Each inhale stripped the air from under them, pulling them closer to the two widening nostrils that relaxed on every lazy exhale. Holding back a whine, the fox had no choice but to hold on tight and extend their legs to prepare for a clumsy landing. Perhaps if they maneuvered correctly, they could slide down the bridge of Nolki’s snout and tumble onto the grass. A soft nose was directly below, host to two cavernous nostrils about five feet across in diameter. The two were separated by a thick sputum, which clearly would act as the small landing strip for the fox if they timed it right. When they did close the distance, however, their foot slipped on the inner rim of Nolki’s massive septum, causing them to careen down into his nostril instead.

Down and down they went, shrugging into themselves in hopes of not bumping or brushing into the nasal walls around them. Even that would prove to be inevitable as well, as the parachute lost its strength once more and fell sideways, snagging on the edge of Nolki’s nostril. At last, the parachuter’s descent came to a halt, leaving them hanging and suspended within Nolki’s nose. Given he was lying on his back, it was the only thing preventing the small parachuter from bumping against the inner walls. A precarious game of operation, that’s what this was akin to.

Yet Nolki remained asleep. The fox could worry about a formal introduction later, though—right now, the first priority was getting out.

Each time the fox thrashed, the tangled cables of the parachute held their arms and legs suspended like puppet strings. Each time they tried to get a sturdy foothold on the twitching nasal walls around them, their paw pads would slip and glide fruitlessly. Each flare of the nostril above made more of the parachute fabric inch towards it, and with every inch, the fox was lowered carelessly into the yawning, plushy depths below.

Snrk-! Snf!! The parachute fluttered and cold wind was sucked into Nolki’s huge nostrils, making the fox shiver. The pink nasal passage below was reacting to the air as well, swelling up under his paws and almost ballooning with warmth. It was the role of the nose to warm and moisten cold air entering the lungs, after all. To say that it felt like a sauna down here was a huge understatement. The space beneath them narrowed to half its original width, leaving the micro to scramble slightly as another untimely snort dropped them hips-deep in the space left behind. It was overwhelmingly warm and squishy, the flesh around them had remarkable give, and if not for their fear of being accidentally lost in the depths further, they’d be completely absorbed in the moment. But every shift of an arm or a leg felt like quicksand—merely replacing the sand with smooth flesh and slippery mucus.

SnrK-!! The fox desperately grasped at the cords holding them to the parachute, only succeeding in pulling the tarp into Nolki’s nostril. It billowed as it lay flush against the opening, before furling inward at a second snort. Within, the poor parachuter was sucked downward to his shoulders, reaching above him at the slick membrane. The nostril overhead was shrouded in a red light from the sun shining through the colored tarp.

Suddenly, the micro’s sense of gravity shifted. They couldn’t see it, but they could feel it. Rumbling, a delayed motion, and the gravity of the world shifting outside. They could tell because the building mucus went from running down the sides of the walls above to suspended, dripping from a defined ceiling to the floor. Nolki must have sat up, telling by the shift in orientation.

“Hhuhh..? H-hhHUH..!” And it was starting to make sense why. The sounds of a building sneeze were reverberating around, and Nolki’s nose was beginning to react. The flesh around the micro began to twitch and tremble, squishing mercilessly against their tiny body with each shift. Seizing the opportunity, the micro planted their hands and pulled themselves loose, before hoisting themselves to their hands and knees. Reprieve was short-lived, though, as the hitching outside only became more desperate.

“H-hHuhh…UHh-aAAH!! hADSCHhhff!!” The fox braced moments before Nolki crossed the threshold, sending a blast of hot, humid air forward. It was intense, but sensible for a bodily function designed to expel pesky irritants like themselves. The fox was once again weightless, initially flying towards a sea of corn plants before the parachute could swell with the wind and slow their descent. It was still a fairly rough tumble onto soft, well-cared-for soil, leaving a trail of felled corn stalks in their wake.

Moments after dusting themselves off and rising shakily to their feet, the micro’s ears perked up as the corn around them began hissing and rattling with turbulent wind. They were swallowed by a shadow, and above, a large olive-colored nose searched with curiosity for them. Leaves dislodged from stems, dirt lifted from the ground, and the micro caught onto one of the hefty stalks before holding themselves down steady.

“Snrk—! SnFFf…snnfffkk!!” The snorting above continued, clearly honing in on their scent. The parachute was lifting up too, drawing closer and closer to Nolki’s flaring, snuffling nostrils. The micro could feel the roots of the corn stalk tearing out of the ground below them, and in a split-second decision, they unclipped their harness and sent the parachute flying upward towards Nolki’s giant nose. No longer at the mercy of the cords, gravity greeted the micro once more, and the stalk leaned and crashed to the dirt.

Winded, heart pounding with embarrassment and surprise, the micro tore through the cornfield, leaving Nolki to snort and chuff and fumble with the parachute that had gotten sucked up his nose. He could see him huff sharply, and expel the tarp, pulling it from their nostril with a tongue stuck out in disgust and embarrassment.

Luckily, the garage side of the barn was open, and the micro rushed inside. Dust trickled from above, and the beams of wall and roof were wedged with gigantic brown tufts of canine hair—countless nights using this barn as a pillow meant that the roof curled inward slightly, too. Stables of untouched hay stacked high, bags of wheat and flour sat unattended, but beyond that, the place was sparse.

The barn’s walls rattled—Nolki was getting closer. Looking over their shoulder, their soul nearly leapt out as Nolki’s curious nose stuffed itself into the garage entrance and snorted around. Wood groaned and rattled as the sides of his muzzle wedged into the door.

“Snrk—snffh-snFFk!!” The huffing was much more careless this time, much sharper, much stronger. They belonged to the nose of a giant who had gotten far too curious now. An empty bird nest was ripped from the rafters, and months of neatly packed feathers were vacuumed into the dark absorbent caves. Each time the nostrils flared, their rims pressed against the second floor of the barn, lifting the dusty floorboards. The wood creaked, the hay rattled, flour bags tumbled, and the micro looked around frantically for options. Running would prove useless, and he couldn’t hide for long either.

“snF- snF SNF—!!” The nostrils flared eagerly as if confirming the fox was in the room. A violent, deep inhale pulled clouds of dust, flour, and hay towards the two nostrils, and the fox scrambled to hold onto anything in view. They grabbed the brush of a broom attached to a wooden support beam by a metal wall-mounted hook, gasping in surprise as their feet were lifted out from under them. The vacuum-like strength created by Nolki’s sniffing was immense, turbulent enough to drag hay bales across the barn and tear out the screws of the wall-mounted hook. Four screws became three, then two—how would they get themselves out of this situation?!

As the last screw came loose, the micro zipped across the floor, holding onto the broom. They rolled over onto their back while holding the broom’s bristles down at the ready towards the flaring nostrils, pulling them close. Amidst a crowd of hay bales and twigs, the micro planted their feet against Nolki’s septum and thrust the broom forward. They began to pack in the square bales of hay into the flaring nostrils in a desperate attempt to stop the insistent sniffing.

“Ehhuh..? HhHuh..!!” Nolki began hitching, slowly. The micro’s broom shoved mercilessly against Nolki’s inner nostril in hopes it would deter him. But despite it, their effort was looking more and more like it was merely inducing a violent sneeze. “hHUHH!! aAHH!!! hAADSSCHHFFFF!!”

The result was an explosion of wind force. The barn swelled with scattered hay, clouds of dust, and feathers filled every corner of the room, sending the micro tumbling along with it. Windows spilled over with debris, too, but remarkably, the barn kept standing. Sturdy buildings like this one, as old as it was, were built for unforgiving storms and tornadoes. Something had to give, though, and the big entrance doors on the other side of the barn had been blasted open from taking the brunt of the wind.

Luckily, looking over to the garage side, the nose had retracted as a cacophony of coughing and sneezing trembled the earth from outside. As bad as they felt, the micro knew this was their chance to escape and put this whole situation behind them. They couldn’t miss out on the opportunity, for all they knew, it could’ve been their only opening provided to them! Just outside the front, only banged up at the bed, a sturdy, rusty truck sat waiting. Frantically searching the glove compartment and the ceiling mirror, they uncovered a key—of course, a remote place like this would keep a spare key where they could easily find it! Whoever abandoned this place left what the micro hoped would be just enough gas to get to the nearest small town where they were supposed to land. The specifics would come later—what was important now was that they put as much distance between themselves and Nolki as possible. So with the truck roaring to life and sputtering in age, it rushed down the dirt road through the cornfields. The micro could see Nolki in the rear mirrors, too busy in the throes of an allergic fit to perceive their speedy departure. Thank goodness, too, the micro sat back in the seat with relief. There would be much to unpack about the whole ordeal later.

A little snz art of Nolki for a request!!

#nolki’s big nose #furquo #furquo art #furry snz #snzblr #snzfic #furquo fic #snz art

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quosterswampdregs · 2 months ago

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A little snz art of Nolki for a request!!

#furquo #snzblr #furquo art #furry snz #nolki’s big nose

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quosterswampdregs · 2 months ago

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Hi👋. I'm new here, so hope you don't mind I'll ask 🤧for Yirgo, Foilage, Auburn. Your girls are very cute 🥰. Also, mb their worst sneezing scenarios? Really curious what it should be for Foilage : sneezing while interviewing/filming something or it's something else?

This is an interesting question because it relies so much on the time the three take place in!

🤧: Age-old inquiry: tissues or handkerchiefs? Better yet, do they normally sneeze into an alternative?

For Virgo, I imagine tissues just for the fact they are in a more modern setting. I imagine a box of tissues is somewhere on the ranger outpost, probably in the information cabin, but Virgo tends to default to a bent arm and/or sleeve. There’s no way the sound gets muffled any other way.

Auburn is on the other end of that scale. They’re a DND!AU charter (technically a werewolf of a shifter, who looks more human than animal), and so because of the more fantasy setting, handkerchiefs are sort of what’s available. There’s a slight preference for stifling in public though!

Foilage? Bold to assume either of these are on the table. Tissues, if offered. If not, they’re sneezing openly, full stop. The time nor the care is just not ever present, often they’ll be walking and completely sneeze with no sign of intent to cover it.

Worst scenario they’d find themselves sneezing?

For Virgo, she’s much less concerned about sneezing in a social context. Better to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission, if you will. But if it was a first impression thing in the information cabin, I think she’d find that a touch embarrassing if it startled the person.

For Auburn, meditating (and obviously throwing off her focus by doing that) or in a public setting—she’s just a touch annoyed that her sneeze does not match her personality whatsoever.

Foilage, truly, could care less. It’s more about what scenarios those who interact find the worst with her, rather than what she would say to be her worst. If she were to give you her insight? It’s probably worse for her if she can’t get a sneeze out during an interview and it’s stuck. For any other person? Idk, avoid standing nearby during any sort of public transport 😬

#furquo #snzblr #virgo the prizzly bear #auburn the werewolf #foilage the fox #furry snz

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quosterswampdregs · 2 months ago

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Here’s my half of the trade for @pupper-star !!!

My end of a trade for @quosterswampdregs !!!

#yule the dragonborn #snzblr #sneeze kink #snz #furry snz #snz art #LOOK AT THIS PHOTOGRAPH(snzart trade)

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quosterswampdregs · 3 months ago

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I have a question is it possible that we could get some internal shots of that rhino characters nostrils

This is a fic a month in the making for a monthly drawing prompt thing that I'm a part of!! The fic is below!!

Rhinos, Rodents, and Rhinitis

Of course, the best ENT specialist in the city of Rore was located in Rodentia County. Bridger felt he was simply being set up for failure when his doctor recommended and referred him—a wooly rhino—to the place where the smallest folk roamed. There were dozens of ways this whole ordeal could take a turn for the worst, and the more he thought about it, the more worried he became.

The grounds trembled. Mice and moles leaving the nearby mall paused with widened eyes as Bridger carefully made his way along the central pavement reserved for larger folk. At the peak of the day, the pavement was more of a thoroughfare, and many of the residents used it for foot traffic. You even had the occasional food stands and vendors propped up like toy models. In short, this area served the smallest first and wasn’t utilized with folks like him in mind. And why would it—Gargantua County was his stomping grounds.

A shiver ran up Bridger’s spine. He was just over eleven feet in height, and most of the regulars on this side of town were 5-10 inches on average. Sure, the occasional fox or feline would break up crowds of chipmunks and hamsters, but they weren’t even half the height Bridger was.

“Snff—!” Bridger’s current predicament didn’t help him either. The only reason he was nearby was because of an ongoing case of the sniffles that required a more specialized doctor to take a look at. Dr. Eiche was apparently proficient in larger patients, too. One would think that she’d set up her clinic in a space more accommodating to that clientele, but beggars can’t be choosers, Bridger supposed. He had been struggling with an itchy nose for too long, and it had gotten to the point he couldn’t go twenty minutes without a sneezing fit. His gait was a hurried one, to put it shortly.

The road led him away from the main marketplace, luckily. It was by design, for such an area with a high population to be well-sheltered and hidden under hamster tubes and wheels in constant squeaky buzz. Instead, where he was headed lay beyond the little city park, where bonsai trees and miniature flowers marked out a pleasant verdant meadow.

The subtle, natural perfumes reached his large nostrils. The muscular rims lifted with a few delicate sniffles. At least, as delicate as a woolly rhino of his stature could muster.

But the sniffing only urged on a once-dormant tickle at the back of his nose. One that was persistent enough to make his eyes water a bit.

“Nduh…h-hhHHHh..?” He huffed through his widening nostrils, unaware of the tiny civilians abandoning their blankets on the hill in favor of rushing for cover. His walking slowed to a stop, his brows pinched, and his head tilted back.

“h-hhUHh..! hHuhDSSCHHhhw!!” If not for smothering his sneeze into his elbow, certainly a few unlucky mice would have tumbled into the central pond at the bottom of the valley. The area had gone quiet instead, with worried eyes all around peeking up his way.

“H-hHHdk!” Something tickled badly and persisted even after he sneezed. “H-HUHh..! hUDDschhhuh!!”

Just what was it? What was itching his nose so badly? Was it a festering cold? Surely it wasn’t allergies, despite his tearful eyes.

“Snddrkk—! Snrk! HhHddih-! HehH! Hehh…” It got worse when he sniffed. It never felt satisfied, only irritated. He couldn’t afford to stand about and dwell on it though: answers awaited him ahead.

As the city park ebbed out behind him, the urban community sprouted on all sides once more. This wasn’t the downtown district, but the smaller and quieter part of town where one would expect to find a doctor’s office. And here, Bridger did, a clinic that was across from a library, about six feet tall. There was no way to fit in there, even the smaller anthros like wolves and badgers would struggle. However, he watched carefully as a fox got his ear examined by a nurse, sitting on a comfy stool resting on a plot of land just beside the building.

The reception area offered one other large cushioned seat outside, too. Beside it, at eye level, a small outcropping with a desk was built into the wall, likely as a check-in station. A squirrel dressed in blue scrubs stepped outside of the building to his right and peered up with wide eyes. She hurried back inside, and the door to the front desk swung open only five minutes later.

“Hello, dear! Sorry for the wait,” she spoke, out of breath as she walked up to the desk and leaned out, “do you have an appointment with us?”

“I do—sndff! Udh…referral from Dr. Kitzah?”

“Yep! I see your name right here, Mr. Easton! I’ll go ahead and send a check-in portal to your phone, feel free to fill that out and the doctor will be out shortly!”

Bridger helped himself to a seat on the cushion. It fit him nicely, too, which settled his nerves—he wasn’t the biggest patient they’ve seen, and this cushion was proof of it. He looked down as his phone buzzed, and a survey came up for him to fill out. Right. Allergies, medications, consent forms…speaking of, there was a section for patients over 8 feet in height. From a brief scan, it seemed to be just warning him that the array of tools and methods used during any procedures may change depending on the size of the patient. That made sense, it was hard to imagine a large stethoscope getting any reading on a little mouse!

Not long after everything was signed, and his vitals were taken (which was a slow process when the nurse staff were moles and mice), a chipmunk wearing scrubs and a white coat stepped onto a balcony to his left. She wore a stethoscope—seemingly for aesthetics—and a belt of all sorts of little tools at her hip.

“Afternoon, Easton!” For once, this was a rodent that didn’t seem the least bit scared of him. If anything, her eyes glittered with enthusiasm and anticipation. The confidence was refreshing, and it calmed him down further. “I see you’ve got a referral from my good friend Dr. Kitzah? What seems to be the trouble?”

Bridger would’ve answered with a sentence if not for his eyes losing focus and his nostrils flaring. His breath got weak and shivery, and one of his ears flickered. “hhHh..! Sorry—hHuhH—uHHDSchhhff!!” He sneezed roughly into his elbow. He felt so exposed out here, the folks walking past on the main road casting their glances his way. “My nose won’t stop itching, even with allergy medicine…I’m just sneezing a tremendous amount.”

“Do your allergies clear your other symptoms?”

“Oh yeah, my throat doesn’t get sore like usual.”

“That’s good…well, the good news is—oh, could I step onto your palm? Thank you—the good news is that this sounds like some sort of foreign irritant. Is there any one side that feels more itchy than the other?” She gestured up to her own nose as if to emphasize. She wobbled a bit and caught her balance when Bridger lifted his paw up so that the two would be eye level.

“Mnnhh, snff..! I-I haven’t thought about it that much. I…I g-guess the…th’right is more itch…hhitchH!” His breath caught in his throat with a few hitches. She leaned forward after standing on the edge of his hand, pressing her paws up against his upper lip. There was enough height to peer into his right nostril, which, when flared, was like a small cavern. Her eyes glittered as she marveled it, and clicked on a small headlight to further examine the red, itchy nasal walls. It was slick with mess, but particularly more red the further back she looked.

His muzzle scrunched—large wrinkles formed under her small fingers. She climbed them like the rungs of a ladder, at least to where she could grab hold of the large horn on the top of his snout. Great timing too, she could feel the wind and air shuffling about as brought in great breaths. The hoods of his nostrils lifted further, and she felt herself slip a bit towards his eyes as his head tilted back.

“HDk—hdT! hiHsshiH—!! hIDDTSHhh’tt!! ihh! hDTSHh’tt!!” Two violent stifles, and the first had nearly flung the chipmunk doctor off. She hugged onto his horn for stability, lower half draping between his red nostrils like a cheap hood ornament.

“Woah—! Bless—bless you!” She gasped, kicking her legs to try and find footing before his palm came up to catch her.

“Snffkk! A-are you okay?? I got scared I sneezed you off,” he chuckled bashfully, cupping his paws under her so that she could stand on his palms again.

“I’m alright! I think I know what’s been causing you some trouble…” she insisted, beckoning his head closer. She looked into his left nostril to clarify, and with her small ears lifted, she reached into it. She held the rim of his nostril above her head, and marveled for a moment at how strong and flexible the muscle was. It took all of her strength just to make enough space for her to reach in. Her hand felt around, which made Bridger’s shoulders jump, and with a sharp prick, she reemerged. In her hand, a seed pod with a fuzzy white plumage and a few hooks on the underside.

“These are typically found soaring high near forests!” She lifted it so he could get a better look, “It’s a pod, they hook onto clothes or skin and open up, releasing these seeds.”

Taking a fistful of the white fuzz, she gave it a tug, and five or six seeds emerged, each adorned with wispy fibers to help carry them out of her hand and into the air.

“Nuh-! S-so there’s…hHhuh?” He pointed tearfully towards his right nostril, and she nodded.

“There’s one of these at the back of your nose, and the fuzzy stuff is what’s making you so sneezy. I can get it out for you!”

Bridger gave a small nod, but the hitching breath had taken over. His nostrils, once relaxed, now flared wide with desperation. She has grabbed one of his nostrils, but that made him stutter in worry.

“IhHuh- I’mbguddAAH-!!” He needed to sneeze, he didn’t have that much time to translate, “heeeh—huh…hdK—hDT!! G-gu’ddasnEHH—! hEEZE—hHEEH!!”

“Well, don’t be shy then, get it out while you can,” she patted between his nostrils, sounding largely unbothered. He lowered her from eye level, opting instead to hold his doctor to his chest as he gasped and tilted his head back.

“hEHHD’sshht!! huhhH—hHrsshtt!!” Those stifles were sounding less and less satisfying by the second. This one made a shiver run up his spine.

“Bless you. Good to know you sneeze in pairs, it seems!” The doctor claimed. She was lifted back up towards eye-level, and reached towards his left nostril. The seed there had been knocked free from all of his sneezing, and by reaching in shoulder-deep with her cheek pressed to his nostril rim, she pulled it out. That was the left side done, from what she could see! “The seeds seem pretty deep in your right nostril, but I should be the perfect size to loosen them by hand. Just brace yourself, alright?”

“B…brace myself?” He breathed in understanding, lifting both his ears. Was she going to take them out manually? By…getting up there? “Uh—alright—just be careful…”

Getting past his nostril was a bit of a squeeze. She stretched her arms forward and felt her hips get stuck against the rim, at least until she could get her footing. As she suspected, it was much bigger on the inside, and enough space to get a handhold and pull the other half of her body inside. It was just right, in Goldilocks' terms. It was not too roomy, not too tight, just enough space for her to wriggle about on all fours. It left a downside though—she’d have to back out of his nose backward if she wanted to get out. That, or maybe Bridger would need to tug her tail.

Meanwhile, on the outside, Bridger crossed his eyes worriedly, watching her immensely fluffy tail barely disappear from his line of sight. Her footfalls were gentle and careful, but her tail was more mindless, brushing gingerly across the inner rim of his nostril. Tears spilled over his eyes as his efforts to hold back were becoming more and more fruitless.

To any passerby, he simply looked like a woolly rhino with a horrendous allergy spell. At least, until you took the whipping chipmunk tail sticking out of one nostril into account.

“hhHuhh..! H-hhHuh..!” His breath felt thin, his eyes lost their focus. He tilted his head back slightly, and the slick ground beneath the doctor’s feet made her skid further forward. Her tail almost fully disappeared from view as she slipped deeper into his nasal cavity, and the half-frantic movements made his hitches grow.

“Easy, easy…!” She insisted, voice echoing out of his other nostril. She smoothed out the twitching tissue around her, trying her best to mitigate the harm.

“Y-you’re makiHh..! Maki’g iHH…! Wuh—hHUHH!!” She was making it worse, but he couldn’t vocalize it before he gasped. “hHUUDschh’XXT!!”

Gritting his teeth, he snapped forward, stifling what would have certainly been tremendous. Dr. Eiche slid backward towards the entrance of his nostril, up until her tail emerged along with one of her legs. The rest was firmly lodged in the rim of his nostril, and she took a moment to gather her bearings. Her leg kicked, her tail lashed, and she tried with little success to pull herself back inside.

“Bless you…! A uh—! A little help?”

“Mmh..? H-hhuh-?” He asked, still recovering himself. “SNDrrRKK!”

She was just about to clarify when a violent snort pulled her back inside fully. Letting out a surprised yelp, she slid again towards the back of his nose, this time finding a grip on the nasal walls on either side of her. There, in front, was the half-opened seed pod, its white fibers tickling and fluttering against his swollen and irritated nasal walls. At last, this little excursion would come to an end—! She reached up and carefully plucked it free with both hands, holding it to her chest so that none of the loosened seeds would go drifting anywhere. Got it! Now she just needed to…get out.

“Alright, coming out now..!” She announced to him, trying to slowly shuffle backward. It was next to impossible, the walls were too slick for the doctor to get any sort of confident foothold. The roof was just too low for her to fully stand up either. Her attempt to stand resulted in her falling chest-first, and she winced as the fluffy seed pod brushed up against the sensitive red patches of his nasal walls. As expected, she felt her environment tense, and could hear Bridger’s uneasy huffs of irritation all around her.

If a stifle could nearly send her out, she imagined a full sneeze would do the job too. Her fingers outstretched, the pinpoint of her nails brushing against the soft cushioning tissue around her. She lifted her tail to tickle at the roof of his nose, and let out a yelp as his nose twitched around her.

“H-hhduH-!” Bridger huffed, rubbing under his nostrils with a finger. Goodness, just what was she doing up there? The feathery feeling against the back of his nose was worsening by the second. She did say she was coming out now—was this a way of speeding up the process? “HHhuhh—good bec-cUh-hHHHh…because I n’deEh! huhh…!”

The thought that she was purposefully tickling him magnified the feeling. That every movement and motion was with the intention of making him sneeze. Something was tickling the roof of his nose back there—was that her tail perhaps?? And the prickles further back—her claws? His nostrils flared wide, and his eyes fluttered shut. If she was doing this intentionally, he shouldn’t fight back.

The doctor slid deeper as Bridger tilted his head back. Desperately holding onto the plushy membranes with her hind paws, she danced her fingers and the fibers of the seed pod across his inner nose, hoping to snag more of a reaction. The redness was especially tender to the touch, warm and slightly swollen from agitation, she grabbed a handful of it, and used her other hand with the seed to tickle its sides. That must have been his sweet spot, because it was making him hitch and huff like she had never heard before.

“Hikk—hHuh!! Hddsht?! hUH!” He puffed his large chest, despite his hands rushing to it to compress it back down. When he sneezed at last, he tipped his head forward, cupping his hands in front of his face and pinning his tiny ears. “hUHHDDSCHhhhuuh!!”

However, as he looked at his hands just after such a tremendous sneeze, he was surprised to see his doctor not cradled in his palms. She was still in his nose—was she stuck? He sincerely hoped not. He clamped down his unoccupied nostril with a finger, and began to chuff and snort obnoxiously. One particular snort caused the doctor to slip, and her tail and hind legs poked out of his nostril. Her squirming was more than enough to spur on another breathy set of hitches, which were much deeper and broader than before. They resulted in a ground-shaking sound enough to send tiny cars shrieking and wailing their alarms in a three-block radius.

“hAAHDDSCHHHHUHH!!” It was obnoxious-sounding, truly, but it got the job done. He was holding the doctor securely in his hands, batting tears from his lashes in the aftermath.

“Goodness, bless you, firstly,” she shakily stood up with her fur slicked into spiky tufts. “Are you alright?”

“M-me? I’m okay, are you alright?!” Clearly he still couldn’t comprehend the last five or ten minutes, which she didn’t blame him for. He couldn’t help it, after all!

“I’m just fine. We got those seed pods out, so you should be smooth sailing,” the doctor hummed, taking off her coat to wring it dry, but to no avail. “I think a prescription is in order to send you off with.”

“Mmh?” Bridger was halfway through rubbing his nose when an eye flickered over.

“Yeah! There’s a new type of medication on the market. The side effects might be a touch…strange, but I think it’ll do you some benefit to try out and keep me posted!”

#bridger the wooly rhino #furquo #snzblr #furry snz #furquo art #snzfic

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quosterswampdregs · 5 months ago

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Looks like Nolki won the fic poll! And funny enough, I actually have a 2-year-old fic about Nolki and two normal-sized canines that I realize I NEVER posted!! So here you all go, featuring Nolki, Kyle, and Morse: A camping trip goes wayward when one of them makes a discovery...

"Kyle!! You’ll never believe what I’ve found!”

An arctic fox came jogging out of the shrouded lodgepole pine forest, shrugging off his traveling backpack in favor of a metallic water bottle to press up to his maw. Morse, exhausted from his morning run, had stirred the restless dingo from his camping tent, who peered lazily at the canopy of lush greens and yellows. A proud mountain rested over the crowns of conifers, which all leaned towards the east in a lazy stretch, before stiffening out westward. Strange winds, warm winds, too.

Kyle, equipped in a simple tee and cargo shorts, pushed himself up fully after supporting his upper weight with his forearms. The dingo uttered to himself with great disinterest—what had his friend’s tail flying with great vigor behind him, anyway?

“Why bring it up if I won’t believe it?” Yawned Kyle to Morse, “what, you found another toad in your tent? Good morning, by the way.”

“No no no, I swear it’s more interesting than that, by a long shot!”

“Wh…whhyyy, are your pants covered in dirt? The sun’s barely up and you’ve gotten yourself into something.”

“Augh!!” Morse curled his upper lip and his large ears found their gravity. Kyle gave a start as he was suddenly taken by the wrist and dragged forward by his shorter friend, who was pawing through the dense foliage from the way he came. He still had his water bottle clenched in the leading hand, using it to nudge away stems of ferns and undergrowth. “It’s just gonna be easier if I show you!”

“H-hwuh?! Hey!! Wait!”

Easier, sure, but damn, nothing could have ever prepared Kyle for what sat before him. Only after sampling mouthfuls of forest leaves and branches from being dragged by the paw by little Morse, did Kyle stare forward, aghast with curiosity. In a secondary clearing, only ten minutes of a stride away was a large, chartreuse mass sitting proudly, tucked away neatly with surrounding foliage and trees. Two caverns, both exerting waves of warmth at uneven intervals, sat side by side; caverns by the likes of which Kyle had never seen before. Whatever this was, it seemed almost alive—fleshy, hued in a mossy green tone, and leaking with some sort of liquid that slickened the pinkening walls further back.

A sudden ripple of air combed past the gawking canid and the vulpine, drawing leaves from trees and ferns into the dark depths before them. All of the trees leaned in as if listening in for the gossip of the woods, before relaxing and pointing back to the sky—Kyle, transfixed, watched the leaves spill out lazily against the trembling walls.

“Alright…” Kyle fixed his shark-tooth necklace against his shirt, and Morse shouldered his hexagonal gold-wire glasses further on his face, “Morse, I dunno what the hell you found, but it’s cool…”

“What did I tell you!?” The arctic fox leaped at such a statement, rushing forward to one of the two caverns. It was about five feet in height, which meant that Morse could barely stand up fully once he clambered onto the fleshy surface that sank under his weight. He kept his ears down, as pointing them caused them to brush up against the ceiling.

“No ifs or hows or alsos, you’re just…! Going in?”

“I mean, sure…!” Morse’s voice echoed by the time his tail slipped in after and snuck into one of the trembling caverns, “I wanna know what’s back here!”

Well, peer pressure had its rules, did it not? Kyle was trying his best to speak logistics, but ironically, he was muttering them out as he hoisted himself into the slick, soft, and warm cavern after his friend. It was weird, very weird; to his touch, the ground sank, and the entrance of the cavern lost its solid composure, expanding once, twice, thrice…? And relaxing. Or at least, shrinking again. Thick, clear slime accumulated on the roof of the cave, and Kyle had to hunch down on his hands and knees to avoid touching most of it. His tail dragged along the base of the area around him, and at one point, a shuddering jolt made him flatten out on his stomach, winding himself completely.

“Yeesh, Morse, it looks like it narrows way up there!!” Kyle huffed in an attempt to catch his breath, seeing that the arctic fox crouched at a certain section with a dip, pinching off the way further—save for a one-foot-tall gap. Morse crouched, lifting his wagging tail that brushed against the slick walls, causing them to visually react and wrinkle away from the featherlight touches. Kyle stumbled uneasily while the floor began to move.

“Morse?”

“I think I could—ngh—squeeeeze in there if I really tried, looks roomy on the other side!”

Not that Kyle had any time to object before he was wiggling and thrashing, kicking his little paws as he tried to worm his way through the crevice offered by this strange cavern. Kyle opened his mouth to speak, but a sudden blast of air came from behind him, throwing him forward against his friend’s backside, who yipped with the accompaniment of a noise only comparable to a vacuum tube being shoved up to a latex balloon.

“Holy hell!!” Kyle shrieked and staggered back, watching Morse’s lower half writhe and kick with confusion. “Morse!! Morse, you good buddy?? What the—?!”

“Mmrggh! Mngghghhh!!”

“What??”

“Mmrkay!!”

“You’re good?” Kyle stammered, receiving a wagging tail in response. Talk about winds today, what on earth?! “-uhhhhh, well! Good. Lemme pull you out…”

Or at least, make an attempt to. His fur had slickened with the strange…mucus-like slime, so his grip wasn’t half the strength it could be. That, and well, telling by the thrashing and little kicks of desperation, he was pretty stuck either way. There was no way he could get him out, not like this.

“Hmm..we got rope back at camp…! I could try to pull you out that way…are you good with waiting like, twenty minutes?” He offered, receiving a noise of acknowledgment and a wagging tail. Kyle nodded—not quite sure why, given his friend couldn’t see him. “Don’t go anywhere!! Not that I think you will!”

Kyle fled from the cave, surprised by the warmth the outside world offered. As promised, he grabbed his bag from his tent, looking to the tree crowns with the two, brown mountains in the near distance.

Two? He swore there was only one before…one of them flicked, mountains don’t flick, Kyle’s ear flicked back as a natural response.

“Mnuhhh…?”

The sound was absolutely tremendous. Kyle wasn’t expecting it, but he watched in fear as flocks of birds fled from the crowns of pine trees. It was coming from whence the dingo came—a beast of some sorts? He took his defense kit with him, grabbing a stray leafy pine branch off of a tree as he bolted after it. Whatever it was, he couldn’t leave Morse stuck in a cave while that thing was roaming around.

“Hey!” He called in a deep bark, charging through the undergrowth with his pine-needle-twig in hand, “you leave my fr…?”

Nothing, just the flaring and trembling caverns before him, sat upon a row of pearly white teeth, green gums, and a tongue that slipped out past the front teeth to shove and lick against a thin but sturdy septum. The line of its septum was unmoving, allowing the skin of its nostrils to envelop the tip of its tongue, before both caverns—both nostrils, hastily flared and shrank, sniffling and snorting with massive irritation. Those weren’t caves, this was a nose that belonged to the steady, sturdy muzzle of some macro canid..! Kyle, quickly turning pink under his fur, took a few hasty steps back. If that was the case, Morse was in there!

“hhHehh..?! HhhHEH?! EHhhschhuhhw!!”

Barely having any time to react, a forceful sneeze caused Kyle to fall flat on his tail, misted over by a spray of warmth and moisture. It dispersed like a morning fog, leaving his fur standing on end.

“A-! Woah! Hey hey hey!!” Kyle attempted shakily, rushing forward to grab the Macro’s septum with both his paws. He gulped as peach-toned fur and thick whiskers led the way for the green eyes that lazily and tearfully fluttered open. “Easy big guy!! Don’t uhhh…! Don’t panic!!”

See, this wasn’t Kyle’s first encounter with macros; they tended to roam these areas, and Kyle had had a few close encounters with them…don’t ask. Or do, he just won’t tell.

“Udh…mnhHhgh??” uttered the macro, whose gaping nostrils flared to reveal poor Morse, his upper half still stuck, tail thrashing about with defiance. He had his feet planted though, which meant he had slipped out a little! His tail was wagging high, high enough to spark a light bulb in Kyle's head.

Oh, how incriminating this was, Kyle was blushing at the thought—if he could tickle the nose of this big guy, a good sneeze could set his friend free—not often would he get such an excuse to do this, but hey! When the opportunity strikes.

“Yeah, that’s my buddy. I’m gonna get him out, okay?”

He couldn’t tell if his tiny voice could even register, but Kyle stepped into the flaring nostril nonetheless. The twig in his hand was brushing feverishly along the responsive, trembling nasal walls, his tail coaxing against his inner septum with all of his strength and irritability.

“Hehh…h-h-hHdhk! Hhuhh?”

The sound was frantic and desperate, reverberating all around him in this tunnel of irritation. With his free, remaining hand, he held onto Morse by the base of his tail, guiding it to the tissue that had him pinned and stationary. It began to loosen as the nose flexed, and he was slowly slipping out against the suction he was bound to.

“Udh..hhuh…! HhHHUH- Hh-hhHUH!!”

“Please work…” wince Kyle, who braced for impact. He grit his teeth and pinned his ears in as much of a brace he could muster.

“Huh- hHUEESHHhhuhhw!!”

With enormous force, Kyle was launched out of one of the Macro’s nostrils, his arctic fox friend in tow. The two tumbled, end over end, and Morse was the first to sit up dizzily, coated in mucus and soggy leaves.

“Get down!!” Kyle hissed, grabbing Morse by the scruff and yanking them behind the bush as the Macro hazily stood to full height, towering hundreds of feet above the trees. Runny nose, lazy eyes, and a short, tucked tail. He rubbed his nose from above, wiping his palm on his chest fur with a bit of confusion. He likely didn’t even notice them, by the tells of it, given how he quietly and begrudgingly lumbered away.

“Morse…?” Whispered Kyle, laughing to himself with an exasperated face.

“Uh-huh…?” The fox was on the ground, staring up at the sky with shock.

“Remind me to second-guess things more, if you would?”

#nolki’s big nose #furquo #furry snz #snzblrmacro #macro micro snz #g/t snz

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