---

When Durin and Tora entered the armory, the tigress’ eyes nearly bugged out of her skull, and they became starry and glittery. The armory lived up to its name in its entirety; swords, bows, shields, axes, hammers, maces, weapons of all kinds lined the walls, along with armor of all kinds.

And, she noted, there were guns. Oh, by the Gods, the guns. There were pistols and rifles with well over four barrels, lever-action rifles, flintlocks, wheelocks, a small range of revolvers, and even a Mosin Nagant. Granted, there were not too many, even with the melee weapons, but judging by the various open and barren weapon racks on the walls, Durin anticipated having more.

All of the firearms were guns she’d never seen before, but by the Gods did she want them.

“...I feel so fucking giddy right now,” Tora breathed out as she zipped from weapon to weapon like a convict in a gun store, examining each before pausing at a Gabe-like weapon with an odd lever thing where the firing thingy on Gabe would have been. “Wot’s this beaut right here?”

Durin looked to her. “That? Mosin Nagant. Five shot, bolt-action internal-magazine fed rifle.”

“...Didn’t understand shit-all of that aside from ‘five shots.’ Does it fire faster than Gabe does currently?” Tora asked, all but drooling as she looked over the ‘Moe-sin.’

He shook his head. “No, but it does pack more of a punch. Check the bullets in it, you’ll see why.” Durin said as he walked over to a set of armor and looked it over.

Tora picked up the Moe-sin, and pulled back on the ‘bolt’ thing - or at least what she assumed was the ‘bolt’ - to no avail. Growing frustrated, she started tugging harder on it with one paw pinning it to the floor while using her two grabby-paws to yank on the thing, “This! Bodgy! Thing! Won’t! OPEN!”

Durin looked to her and sighed, walking over and grabbing her paws, then helping her pull the bolt up and to the left, then back to show the cartridges.

“...Oh,” Tora mewed, looking bashful and sheepish as she examined the cartridges...and her eyes widened when she pulled one out and held it in her paw. “Holy dooley! Look at the size of these bloody things! Gabe’s thunder-balls were big enough as-is, but…!”

Durin chuckled, rolling his eyes. “7.62x54mm’s are hardly the largest calibers there are.”

“...Wot?” Tora asked, eyes sparkling and pupils now big-ol’ hearts.

Durin chuckled again. “That’s honestly the cutest look you’ve given me yet.” He shook his head. “But yeah, there are plenty bigger calibers.”

“Okay, first thing - piss off, I’m not fuckin’ ‘cute.’ Second - I’m taking this thing, ripping it apart and installing this ‘bolt-action’ part thingy plus this ‘mag-a-zeen’ into Gabe. No if’s, and’s or but’s,” Tora stated with finality.

Durin rolled his eyes again. “Have fun with that. Mosin’s are notorious for being hard to disassemble, especially without the right tools.”

Tora scoffed indignantly, “I combined Gabe and ‘is mate Arby together with a fuckin’ hammer an’ nails. I can make Gabe aces with this, no problem. Just gimme...ten or fifteen minutes.”

Durin shrugged. “If you say so. I’ll be in here, then, finding you some good armor and a melee weapon. Any preferences?” He asked her, walking over to a random armor stand.

“Flexible, somewhat lightweight for mobility, ain’t fucking paper, and lets m’ knockers breathe a little,” Tora replied as she took the Mosin and left the armory.

"Feel free to take the bullets!" He called after her, shaking his head as the door closed behind her.

---

“DAMN PINS!”

“WHY IS THE BOLT SO FUCKING STUPID?!”

“WHO INVENTED THESE FUCKIN’ TINY PARTS ANYWAYS?!”

“AAAAA!”

---

Durin looked to the door to the armory as it slammed open, Tora walking in with Gabe now sporting the Mosin’s internal magazine and bolt-action receiver in place of the old matchlock system that had been so finicky before. In addition, there was now a bayonet mount on the underside of Gabe’s barrel with one of Tora’s knives attached to it. A look of hard-won victory was on her muzzle, like she'd just finished a harrowing battle.

Considering her screams earlier, she likely had.

“Seventeen minutes. Suck m’ gooch, Durin!” Tora laughed triumphantly, already loading the 7.62mm rounds into the magazine with a stripper clip...inserted sideways into the receiver.

Durin gave her a sideways smirk. “Maybe when we know each other better.”

“Aaaand go fuck a cactus, ya bloody hairless ape,” Tora retorted, pulling the clip out and putting it in one of her pouches.

“...” Durin glared harshly at her. “...Don’t call me that.” He said coldly.

“You can call me a bastard in exchange, if you want,” Tora replied calmly. “Cuz I am one.”

“...” He sighed, gaze softening slightly. “Sorry to hear that.” He looked away and handed her a shortsword of tungsten before she could reply. “Thoughts? Or would you prefer a different weapon?”

Tora took the blade and hefted it up and down, testing the weight before stepping back and giving it a few test swings. Once she was done with that, she looked at the shortsword...and nodded, “Not as heavy as I thought this little bugger’d be. Right corker, this.”

He smiled at her.

“...The fuck ya doin’, bastard? I ain’t done nothin’ worth the pearly whites,” Tora said offhandedly.

Durin shook his head. “Nothing. Just noticing how good you are at assessing blades. It’s admirable.”

“Worked with ‘em for a bloody age before I found Gabe and found m’ callin’ as an archer. I still use blades like m’ knives for emergencies and shit, but, y’know,” Tora shrugged as she took the sheath for the shortsword and placed it at her unoccupied left hip.

Durin nodded. “Understandable.” He then picked up a set of armor from the armor stand in front of him, offering it to her. It was a dark vermilion, and an air of rough majesty surrounded it. The thick hide armor was somewhat bulky looking, but very stylish as well, and came complete with a black, fur collar. “Here, go try this on, tell me what you think.”

Looking at the armor, she shrugged and took off her armor, leaving herself in naught but a chest wrap and plain pair of black panties.

Durin’s cheeks reddened at this. “Christ, woman! Don’t strip in front of me! Go do that elsewhere!”

“Wot, y’ can’t take the sight of a half-naked sheila?” Tora teased with an amused smirk, but did nothing else aside from put the new armor on, starting with the leggings.

“It’s not that! It’s just improper! I’m a man, for Christ’s sake!” Durin argued, covering his eyes.

“...You have some weird fuckin’ idea of decency, then. No sheila would take ya as a hubby if you’re a pussy like every other male on this planet,” Tora clucked her tongue.

“It’s called being a gentleman, asshole!” he groused, turning around.

“...Nnno, it’s...gentlemare, actually. The women is supposed to be courteous and protective of the male,” Tora said, clearly confused if the look on her face was any indication.

“Who the fuck told you that shit?” Durin asked, not even peeking at her.

“That’s...how it’s always been on Equus. The female protects the male and children, while the male rears the children and takes care of the home. Wot kinda backwards-arse world d’you come from?” Tora asked as she finished putting on the top.

Durin froze at this. “...J-Just put your fucking clothes on.” Under his breath, he muttered, “Fucking world gets weirder and weirder…”

“I heard that, drongo,” Tora casually stated as she stretched in the armor, getting a feel for its fit and flexibility. “Or didja forget that I’m a fuckin’ cat with bloody good hearing?”

“J-Just shut up, alright?” Durin shot back.

Then, as Tora twisted her torso to the side, she froze as a familiar and utterly infuriating sensation shot up her spine from a point above her butt, “...WHERE THE FLYIN’ FUCK IS TH’ DAMN TAILHOLE?!”

Durin blinked, turning around to face her. “Ohh, right, feline race.” He shook his head. “Yeah, my armor isn’t made for those with tails.”

“Well, I ain’t fuckin’ fighting with m’ tail PINNED AGAINST MY DAMN BACK!” Tora yowled as she yanked the leggings off and held them out to him, looking very odd with a leather cuirass on and only black panties down below. “Be a mate and fix it, please.”

Staring at it, then her panty clad bottom, he sighed and shook his head, as if to try and banish his embarrassment. “Fine, fine.” Taking it from her, he summoned a knife from seemingly nowhere and made a hole in the appropriate area.

“And don’t stare at my ass like y’ just did. Ya do that, and I’ll have to charge ya for it,” Tora said flatly, arms crossed over her leather chest piece.

Durin’s eye twitched, and he turned an annoyed gaze at her. “So I’m a pussy if I don’t look, but I get the stink eye for looking? The fuck kinda logic is that?”

“...I dunno, that’s just how ma’ explained it to me.”

Durin’s eye twitched again. “...You’re lucky I like cats.” With that, he finished his work and handed the leggings back to her.

She didn’t take it at first, mainly because she was stiff as a board, with her tail jutting straight up and fluffed to hell and back, “...How, exactly, do you ‘like cats’?”

Durin frowned at this. “Cats are cute, and majestic. Always liked them.”

“...Not ‘valuable’ or ‘easily trainable’?” Tora asked very carefully.

Durin’s frown deepened, trying to puzzle her meaning...then his eyes widened. “You...You were a slave?”

“...Fuckin’ Moos - Minotaurs - took me at 7 after a dragon wiped out my village. We’re moving on,” Tora said rather quickly, taking the leggings and putting them on just as fast.

Durin simply looked saddened, but didn’t continue. “Alright. I won’t push you.”

“Good,” Tora snipped as she flexed in the new leggings. “...Fit is better, tail goes out as needed. Good enough.”

“Good, good,” Durin nodded. There was a brief silence, before he looked her over and spoke, breaking it. “Hmm… You’ll need something extra, give me a bit, stay here.” He said, walking past her and out of the room, leaving her to her thoughts.

Tora stood there motionlessly as she looked herself over - namely, the patches of fur on her wrists and ankles that were lighter than the rest. Always in lines..

Bad times. Terrifying times. Bitter tastes and foul odors and wrong sensations and burns and brands and pain-

The door opened, and Durin walked in.

Tora flung a knife in the direction of the doorway with a small scream, her breathing rapid and eyes dilated.

“Jesus!” Durin cried, reflexively catching and holding the knife in his hand.

“Fuck! S-sorry, mate!,” Tora apologized with guilty eyes. “I-I...you startled me.”

Durin frowned, looking at her with shock for a time, before he took a breath and his eyes softened. “Don’t be sorry. I shouldn’t have brought up that topic before. It’s my fault.”

“N-no-...alright, you don’t talk about it if I don’t?” Tora suggested, holding her hand out.

He nodded, taking it and shaking it firmly. Soon after they let go, he made two items appear in his hands. One was a red band with a heart on it, and the other was a very small, golden tube. “Take these, they’ll help you a bit.”

Taking both, Tora looked at the band for a moment before putting it on her right wrist, and after examining the tube...stuffed it in a pouch on her back, “I’m…jus’ gonna trust ya on that one, mate. So...we good t’ go?”

“Yeah,” Durin nodded.

A rumbly came from her tumbly.

“...Heh...hehehe...he,” Tora said, a bit of pink showing through her orange cheek fur. “I...forgot I haven’t eaten in...well, since the night ya took me in.”

Durin rolled his eyes and turned around, motioning for her to follow. “Come on then. Let’s get some food in you.”

‘Could kill for some lamb right about now…’ Tora internally grumbled at the same time as her stomach grumbled again.

Next Chapter: 9 - Into The Gloom: Into The Gloom Estimated time remaining: 4 Hours, 6 Minutes