Chapter 52 - Hungry Forever

Chapter 52: 52 - Hungry Forever

(Yaya’s POV)

Beasts were one thing to be wary of, but nature was a whole different level. And we were the intruders here. The forest didn’t give a damn about our lives or our little shelter.

Crack!

We ran through the rain. The wind howled, carrying leaves and branches with it. The weights turned me into a small elephant with every step I took. It felt like the mud was trying to eat me, to drag me down to its depths.

A flash of lightning lit the sky, followed by a deafening thunder. There was no place to hide from the storm.

We ended up settling under a massive tree that had a thick trunk and wide branches, and it seemed like we weren’t the only ones seeking refuge.

Groups of beastmen had gathered around the tree, some shifted into their animal forms, others staying in their human ones. I immediately hid behind Noodle and pulled my hood over my head. With all the mud and rain, I was unrecognizable, which couldn’t be said about Noodle.

"It’s them...they are the ones..." a rabbit beastman whispered to a horse beastman. "The female with the cold-blooded."

The crowd stirred. They took a step back, as if we were a contagious disease. Fearful eyes darted between us. The primal incident must have been the topic of gossip among the locals. A pangolini beastman even curled into an armored ball, ready to defend himself if the coldbloodee attacked.

A few stronger beastmen stepped forward, "You are not welcome here. Leave. Now. Before we force you to."

Their death flashed before my eyes. Innocent, good-doer beastmen, with no ill intention to harm me, but they would die because of a female they tried to protect. Their blood would be on my hands. Again.

Noodle ignored the beastmen, occupied by the sight of me all muddy. The gasum under his armpits squeaked as he turned me around.

"Did they kill an elite patrol?" someone from the back whispered, "The female is wearing their cloak."

They looked at me, then at the cloak I had stolen.

"Yes!" I nodded, pointing at Dickhead as the culprit. I made a silent deal with him through eye contact: Stay out of my way, and you might get a treat. Meddle in my business, and you’ll go hungry forever.

Dickhead sensed I would cause more trouble for him, so he stayed put.

The crowd’s gaze shifted to him, their battle instincts kicking in. They braced for a fight.

One of them said, "If you give us the female, we might let you live. Hand her over, and leave this place."

"That’s not what I meant." I laughed before shouting at the crowd, "He is the one I ordered to kill the elite patrol! The eagle got what he deserved! Death!"

A moment of silence followed. The rain poured harder, as if the skies were crying for the fallen. Then, one of the beastmen stepped forward, his eyes on me, "You ordered your male to kill an elite patrol? What kind of female are you?"

"The elite patrol refused to become my mate so I killed him! I’m a female! I do what I want, when I want!" I spat out, feeling the pressure of the eyes on me, burning through me with hatred, "You bunch of morons dare to question me? If you want to join him, keep talking!"

They began to back away, whispering among themselves, "She’s not worth it... let her rot with those coldblooded... we need to warn others...there’s another vileborn female..."

Females were cherished and protected regardless of their behavior, but if they became too dangerous, they were banished to the most remote areas. Vileborn females were the worst kind. They were the ones who actively harmed others for fun, enjoying the suffering they caused.

My red neon sign, an elite patrol’s cloak, was shining brightly, and my reputation was on its way to become legendary. If beastmen knew where I was, they would avoid me like the plague.

If they believed that I killed an elite, they might get the army involved, and our chances to enter Beast Kingdom would be gone for good, being accepted in it would be gone too.

My best option was to become a rumor. An urban legend. A ghost story told to scare children.

"Well," I dusted off my hands and sat under the tree, feeling proud of my work. One of the three gasums sat in my lap, and I petted it to keep it from jumping into the rain. "I got us some peace and quiet, boys."

"Thank you, mate," Noodle said as he joined me, impressed with my performance, "They looked like they won’t bother us anymore."

Dickhead wasn’t as amused as Noodle switched sides and forgot about the deal he made with him. The one where they were supposed to drag more males to their cause like some cult recruiters.

"I’m glad you are enjoying yourself," Dickhead said, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he took a seat beside me. "It’s nice to have a laugh at the cost of our future. Hilarious."

He scooped a handful of mud and threw it at me, making me tilt my head to dodge it.

"An old groomer like you should know better than to start a mud fight like a kid," I said, retaliating with a mud ball of my own.

"To deal with brats like you, I have to use their language," he shot back, catching my mud in his hand and slapping me with it.

Noodle jerked his head back and he let out an indignant sound as he saw his mate getting filthy again. He hissed as he aimed his gasum at us and squeezed its belly, making a cloud of gas explode in our faces.

We both coughed, feeling a cold breeze tickle our noses.

I tackled Noodle to the ground when he triee to stop me, pinning him down.

"Mate, no!"

I smeared mud in his hair and his face, covering his red scales with brown. "It’s a mud mask. You should try it. It’s good for the skin. Right, Shroomie?"

Dickhead paused from wiping his face, hiding his surprise behind his palm, "That’s right. It will make you shiny and smooth."

Noodle stopped struggling, "Really?" He laid his head back on the ground, "Then do it, mate. Make me shiny."

I grinned and got to work, applying the mud all over his face and chest. I had some fun drawing patterns and shapes on his skin. I also gave him a mud beard and a mustache.

He looked ridiculous, but I kept my poker face on.

Noodle wasn’t sure of his new look and even asked Dickhead to confirm it.

Dickhead nodded, barely keeping a straight face. "You look great, Kurus. I’m sure Precious won’t be able to resist you."

"Good." Noodle closed his eyes and relaxed, letting the mud do its magic.

The three gasums fell asleep on Noodle’s chest, snuggling against each other for warmth. They were cute, in a creepy, fuzzy way.

Dickhead and I waited for the rain to stop and for Noodle to finish his spa treatment.

I wanted to wash myself in the rain, but I thought Noodle might like to do the honors, as he enjoyed bathing me. Despite complaining about it, he always carried a smile that made me want to get dirty on purpose.

"He’s back..." Dickhead chuckled as he glanced in the direction of a tree in the opposite direction of ours, "I guess it’s too difficult for him to resist you, Precious."

I followed Dickhead’s gaze and spotted a figure hiding behind the tree trunk. Nugget.

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