Chapter 130: brought to you by a fed up sheep

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Companion Chapter to 128, or Why Orson Didn't Go Rescue Her. As to updates on the mysterious co-writer, Tyndali, she is happy her youngest baby has gotten healthier, content with her Stardew Valley homelife, and sad that her neighbors in her apartment complex have seemingly made a New Years compact to not have anymore outlandish drama for her to watch or listen in on. Lowefantasy/T.S.Lowe is also sad that there are no more drama stories. Both are crossing their fingers.

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Orson raised the bowl to his lips, savoring the subtle aromas of fang-root, stone fruit, and acid peel, especially the acid peel. Where a bastard like that found acid peel in this weather, he'd never know. Neara's anxiety, like a sensitive leech, nibbled on the edge of his consciousness. She was always there, but surrounded by beastmen, he'd deemed the circumstances safe enough to enjoy food. A portion of his mind remained in the Sheep Village, wondering if his boys were getting along with... his slightly smaller, of a different race, but definitely still his, boys. Aetius never begged for his life, interestingly enough, only glared at him while he plucked handfuls of fur from his body and told Orson he would never damage his memory of Neara.

Idiotic words from a grass-eater. Should have been a predator. Which reminded him of the delicate bowl in his hand, the last drips quivering near his lips. "You have to admit, the bastard has good taste." He lapped the last drops, and sensed Neara was, again, too anxious to be hungry. Well, she had a right to her own choices as long as they didn't impact her health too drastically, and he sensed about two more missed meals would be her limit. A faint daydream appeared of her eating a fine salad surrounded by heaps of fruit, her stomach and thighs luxuriantly fat... but that wasn't his reality.

"I'm supposed to be ugly!" Neara's voice was tinged with a bite of truth. No matter who chased her, no matter their status, she would always think she was less than the most absolute gorgeous creature to walk the earth. Orson couldn't do a thing about it, so he'd stopped trying.

"Aw, too bad." He clucked his tongue at her to express his frustration, then cleaned his bowl, examining it for any forgotten drops of broth. Finding none, and satisfied in his cleaning, he stood. The angry contentious energy in the corner felt like a knot on the side of his neck and, as a parting gift, he turned to it. "Well, I'm going to get more. I'd offer to get you some but...we all know you'd refuse." Go ahead, defy me. One day, he was going to kill that white-furred pest for trying to starve Neara.

"Then why ask?" Benedict's voice snapped like a wet twig. Gotcha.

"I didn't. That's the point."

"Why even bring it up?"

"To piss you off." And it was working beautifully.

"Keep talking, stone-head." The moronic snow leopard sank into a crouch, claws extended. Orson checked his parameters to make sure his irritation wasn't showing. No aura crept through his walls. Good.

"Guys, can we not fight for one day?" Neara's voice sounded like she'd reached a breaking point and missed Shay. He'd stop, for her. Also, Winston was coming and by the sounds of it, he didn't like what he had to say.

"There's another Leopard beastman downstairs, Agatha." Winston stood at the door, looking as uncomfortable as he felt. "He says he has a message for you."

Orson sliced through the sexual tension like a knife and wished he had those powers in real life. On his way down to the kitchen, he felt their energies tiptoeing around each other. She didn't want to push herself on him, he didn't want to push himself on her. Once again, he marveled at the stupidity of predators and how they'd managed to stay alive long enough to reproduce. Winston was a rare breed, though, and he was grateful for that. Benedict's attraction was still too low to do anything with, and poor Tony... well, he'd probably mate with her but it'd be a long time in coming. His desires were obvious and while Neara liked him back, she kept putting barriers between them. He felt lucky she'd jumped him the way she had, otherwise she'd probably still be dancing around him too.

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