“Do you have any trouble with communication in your travels? Learning new languages and things like that.”

Clarion licked her nose. “You eventually get a knack for it, though it could just be a survival mechanism I've developed over time to learn languages. What people don't understand is that a lot of the communication we have isn't verbal.”

The priest lifted his eyebrows curiously, then caught his gesture and laughed to himself.

She nodded, “Body language, yes. But there's a lot of instinct behavior that you don't think of. Predators lock eyes to intimidate and avoid eye contact with a superior. Humans don't hold eye contact when they're lying or nervous. And their hands will flutter and fidget. Have you noticed people scratching their faces or rubbing their necks when they're having a difficult conversation with you? It's a comfort gesture, they're petting themselves to try and calm down the way an overexcited animal might stop and groom itself.”

Father Stevens considered that. He'd always observed the fidgeting and fussing of people, but never really put a reason behind it.

Her hands folded together. “Humans have skin instead of fur, so a lot of your social interaction is touch oriented. Shaking hands, kissing, hugging. Having fur tends to bring out grooming related behaviors instead. Social grooming and things like that.”

For some reason the only human equivalent image the priest could imagine was a spa, although that wasn't really a social act.

“And then there's scent. To me scent is more important to me than sight. If there's one thing I pity humans for, it's for their loss of their sense of smell.” She spread her hands. “You have to look at a room with your eyes to take it all in, but I know what is there, what was there, and who walked through by the scents.”

Nigel chuckled. “I don't know if I'd care to be able to smell any better than I already do. We get a lot of unwashed people with no sense of personal boundaries around the cathedral.”

Clarion pulled herself up and leaned in closer to the priest. She closed her eyes and breathed in sharply. “You had toasted bread with swiss cheese and tomato for breakfast along with a cup of hazlenut coffee. Your shirt hadn't dried completely when you put it on. You showered last night instead of this morning. You took a taxi here and the driver was an overweight asian man.” She peeked an eye open.

He blinked. “All that from a whiff?”

“And more, but those are the things I can guess I'm right about. Scent sometimes tells me if I can trust a person. Emotions leave a taint on someone, lifestyle leaves a taint. I can tell that you used to be a smoker, but you quit a year or so ago.” Her ears drooped apologetically. “Sorry, if it helps at all I keep those types of things to myself. I usually only say something when someone smells wrong, like they're sick.”

The priest was starting to regret not showering that morning. “How sick? Can you tell if someone has a cold?”

Clarion flicked her bangs from her eyes. “When the body fights germs or an infection you can smell it. I can smell if someone's taken a drug or poison, or if it's something really bad like cancer. The body doesn't want to get sick or die, so it fights it and the chemical changes are usually noticeable.” She smirked. “In cultures where the sense of smell is a common development people have learned to make false scents to provoke or placate.”

Nigel tried to grasp that, all he could think of was the pungent reek of musky perfume or his secretary's air freshener that she regularly doused the halls with.

“Imagine flooding a place with fear scent. It would be like being in a room full of screaming people for someone who recognizes it. Probably more effective than tear gas.” She coughed into her hand. “Or the smell of someone in estrus, and yes... the latter is fabricated often. Some places even have laws restricting the use of artificial scents the way your laws restrict the use of certain chemicals and drugs.”

The priest adjusted his glasses. “I can't say you're making a strong case for the advantages of having a good sense of smell, Clarion.”

She chuckled. “I suppose I'm not. But it's also a good equalizer. I can pick up hints and emotions and things people are hiding. I notice details, and considering the life I live and the job I have, those details keep me alive.”

---

Another one in the series of vignettes I'm writing where Three (called Clarion by her priest) and Father Nigel Stevens discuss a few things while Three recovers from a fall that almost killed her.

I wanted to sort of do a stylized mass of swirling things to illustrate the point of scents and things. One thing a wish a lot of writers who do furry stuff would keep in mind are animals behaviors and instincts. Back when I was an editor for a fanzine one of my determining factors for accepting a story was if I could replace the main character with a human and not have the story change at all. I love that animal people might have problems with reigning in instinct and behavior, and can be manipulated by scents and body language we might not even notice. I try to keep this in mind whenever I write for Three and thought this little vignette explaining it might be fun.

This is a 4x6 inch picture cone in copic marker and gelpen and inked in sepia inks.