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submitted by ryanfranke
[link] [84 comments]

This week we spend a good deal of the episode discussing the purchase of Furaffinity by IMVU. Use our coupon code ‘knot’ at AdamEve.com for some bonus goodies. Patreon forthcoming! This weeks music is “Burning Up” by Dj Redlight from OCRemix http://ocremix.org/remix/OCR01547 Episode 276 - #Furtastic #FamBam

I have a few questions regarding the status and future of FA that I can't seem to find answers to, at least that I understand:

1. Are we in the middle of it's inevitable demise?
2. Should we avoid posting anything there from now on, or even delete accounts and leave the site entirely?
3. If FA is abandoned, what might take it's place?

submitted by OutsiderWolf
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submitted by Poor-life-choices
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submitted by Ellen-Natalie
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submitted by stonerhippiemutt
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submitted by copper_quean
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I'm genuinely curious on this one. 99% of the time, when I see a fox in a piece of artwork, it typically portrays the fox being the one that's eager to please, never taking control, and often being used and abused.

What I'm actually curious about is, logically, WHY this is. How did it start?

submitted by Narrowminded
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submitted by mrmattsir
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submitted by Kitaeo
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submitted by Minobull
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submitted by NuclearLupine
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submitted by NoahGoldFox
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submitted by AdmiralCheesecake
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submitted by AForeignSoul
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And does anyone know an alternative material other than fur?

I want to make a dragon design but want to try and avoid making my final product look fluffy / furry.

Any tips on what to do with horns would be an extra I'd appreciate.

submitted by ShaunSP
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submitted by Lolanthe
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Not sure how much response I'm going to get, so I'll draw a black n' white bust of your character in my style if you can show me a pic, or at least describe your character in detail. Here's an example of my style. Limited time offer!

EDIT: I've been drawing for about 2.5 hours now, so I gotta call it for now. (Sorry, I'm not too fast at these!) I might come back later to do a few more, we will see. Thanks for letting me draw your characters, they're so awesome, you guys make it easy! ^_^

EDIT 2: OK, as of this edit, requests are closed. I'm just finishing off the last few now. Thanks again guys, this was really fun. I haven't drawn so much in one day in a very long time so this was great practice. I hope you enjoyed looking at my art!

Blarg, I forgot! Please check out my FA Account, Moonwalker if you want to see more! (There's a few NSFW pieces, but nothing too crazy...>.> <.< yet.)

submitted by Neohexane
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submitted by Neohexane
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This is my first serious furry story (the rest have just been porn) and I'd like to know if it's interesting to other furs. Would you keep reading? There will be two erotic scenes near the end of the book, but mostly it a fantasy novella.

Merle and the Dragon

Head lowered against the stinging rain, Merle’s paws pounded the packed earth of the forest road, his ears back and his breath puffing faintly before him. A few more weeks and it would be winter, and what would he do then? His clothes were torn and muddy, hardly recognizable as the smart hotel uniform they had once been. Why hadn’t he thought to grab a coat before he left, or some food, or anything? Because once the drugs wore off and he could walk again, his only thought had been to get as far away from Coyle Sarburn and that damned hotel as fast as he could. Three days later, he was cold, footsore, and starving, but at least he was free. Never again would he be anyone’s whore.

The faint scent of woodsmoke tickled his nostrils and he slowed, panting as he tried to catch his breath. He drew in a great lungful. No doubt about it, someone had a fire somewhere. The prospect made him pause, taking shelter beneath the thick, spreading limbs of an old fir. Fire meant heat, warmth, and a chance to dry his clothes and fur. Maybe it even meant food. But it could just as easily mean bandits, or rangers, or slavers, any of which would spell the certain death of Merle’s freedom. He had been a slave for most of his life and he was never going back.

Shaking the rain from his thick, brush-like tail, he set out again, but at a more cautious pace. He couldn’t afford to pass up such an opportunity, not without at least checking it out. He’d not eaten anything except a handful of over-ripe berries and some bitter acorns since he’d left the city and his stomach was a constant, tight knot of hunger. The smell of the smoke grew stronger, and something else. Roasting meat. Merle began to salivate, his empty belly gurgling piteously. Soon, he promised himself.

The sun had set nearly an hour before and the woods were full of twilight and shadows, perfect cover for a blue Fox. The pale gray patches on his coat were mostly covered by his uniform, the dirty gray shirt and trousers providing excellent camouflage. He left the road and crept through the trees, avoiding clumps of dying ferns and dried brambles, the thick layer of fir needles silencing his steps. Before long, he could make out the faint glow of the fire through the trees, the flames casting dancing light across the forest floor. Counting on being near invisible to whoever sat inside that circle of flickering light, Merle slipped from the base of one tree to the next, until he could see down into the slight hollow where the fire merrily burned.

Braced over the flames was a roasting rabbit, the meat a rich, red brown color. Merle licked his chops as fat dripped into the flames, popping and sizzling. Tearing his eyes from the fire, he glanced around the hollow. To one side sat a strange wagon, the pale wood gleaming in the firelight. Probably a peddler’s cart, it was built to be pulled by a person rather than an animal, and seemed to consist of nothing but chests and cupboards and drawers all stacked haphazardly atop one another. Two big wheels were held together by shiny copper bands and the shafts by which the cart was drawn were wrapped in smooth black leather. The owner of the cart, however, was nowhere to be seen.

Hoping that he was out gathering more wood or relieving himself, Merle scrambled down into the hollow and over to the fire. Grabbing the rabbit, he jerked back with a hiss, nearly knocking it into the flames as he burned his paws. Burned paws seemed a fair trade for a full belly, though, and he seized the green bough that the rabbit was spitted upon, gritting his teeth against the pain as he turned to run.

A wall of shiny black scales blocked his way and Merle jumped back, almost stepping in the fire as he tipped his head back, his blood running cold as he stared up into the face of a Dragon. Scaled lips drew back from needle-sharp teeth and the Dragon hissed, his green eyes narrowed to slits and the firelight gleaming from his twisted golden horns.

“Oh, shit,” Merle breathed. The rabbit slipped from his paws and fell into the dirt. He spun around and ran, and crashed into the Dragon’s side. Stumbling back, he ran in the opposite direction, only to have the Dragon appear in front of him again. Great, not just a Dragon, but a wizard, too. Realizing that escape was not an option, Merle fell to his knees and raised his forepaws beseechingly, praying to the gods that this Dragon was not one of the dark ones. If he was, no amount of begging was going to save him. “Please, forgive me, Great Wizard,” he pleaded, his heart pounding as the Dragon moved toward him, taking slow, unhurried steps, his serpentine body easily thirty feet in length, although nearly half of that looked like it was tail. “I didn’t know this was your camp or I never would have intruded.”

“Be I wizard or pauper, a thief is a thief,” the Dragon said, his voice deep and resonant. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t eat you for spoiling my dinner and to spare the next traveler from your visit.”

“I- I wouldn’t taste very good,” Merle stammered, cringing back as the Dragon’s cool breath slid through his fur and whistled in his ears. “Please, I’m not a thief, I was just so hungry I couldn’t help myself. I’ve never stolen anything before, I swear.” He shook like a leaf as the Dragon leaned down and sniffed his fur.

“I smell the city on you,” the dragon said, taking a step back. “You are a long way from where you should be. Very well, I will spare your life, on one condition.”

“Anything, Great One. I will do anything you ask.”

“Make that two conditions,” the Dragon amended. “First, you will serve me, remaining with me and doing whatever I ask of you, for an entire year, unless I decide to release you sooner.”

Merle swallowed hard. He didn’t want to be anyone’s servant. “And the second condition?”

“Never call me Great One or Great Wizard again. My name is Skerrayne, and if you accept my conditions, you may call me Master. If you don’t, I will call you dinner and that will be the end of it.”

“All right,” Merle said, his shoulders sagging in defeat. “I agree to your conditions.”

“I thought you might,” Skerrayne said, turning away from him. “Now, get my dinner out of the dirt and finish cooking it. I will return shortly.” Merle watched the long, sinuous black Dragon disappear into the dark forest, leaving him alone in camp. Climbing to his feet, Merle’s first instinct was to run, but he had a feeling that would be a very, very bad idea. This had to be some kind of test. Yes, that was it. The Dragon was probably watching him from just beyond the reach of the firelight, ready to pounce and rip him limb from limb if he made any move to escape. Well, he was clever, too. He could wait. Even a Dragon wizard had to sleep sometime.

submitted by katicalocke
[link] [6 comments]