At the muffled sound of someone suppressing laughter, Bao Bei finally opened his eyes.
Right in front of him, leaning over the bed to the point of almost falling, was the same human from earlier. He had a hand over his mouth and was turning his face away. Bao Bei thought he saw the man's shoulders shaking slightly.
"Eat."
Being told that, Bao Bei suddenly realized he was drooling and quickly wiped his mouth with the sleeve of the shirt he wore. On the table in front of the sofa, steaming dishes and bread had been arranged.
Bao Bei instinctively jumped down from the bed and started running toward the sofa—but then suddenly, he froze and became aware of the human.
He started backing up slowly, step by step, toward the wall, glancing back and forth between the human and the delicious-smelling food on the plates.
The human was scary. Untrustworthy. He didn't like him. But he was hungry. The warm food on the plates smelled so incredibly good.
Even as his eyes darted between the two, drool kept dripping from his mouth.
I want to eat! But the human is scary! I hate this! But… I want to eat!
His head was spinning in confusion, and tears began to fall from Bao Bei's eyes. His stomach kept growling loudly in protest. His ears drooped flat against his head, and his tail swung side to side in big arcs, matching the turmoil inside him.
The shirt the human had dressed him in was far too big for Bao Bei's small and thin frame. The collar sagged down off his left shoulder and arm, and the hem reached below his knees. He gripped the fabric tightly with both hands.
The human stared at Bao Bei for a while, then said again, "Eat."
And with that, he turned around and left the room.
Bao Bei stared intently at the door the human had exited through. After making sure it wasn't going to open again, he cautiously approached the table with the food.
The warm steam rose up, and the rich, delicious smell hung thick in the air. Drool dripped freely now. His stomach growled loudly and wouldn't stop.
Before he knew it, he had grabbed the spoon and was shoveling stew into his mouth.
"So good… so tasty… mmh… gurunmnhh… fuu, gururuu…"
The stew was packed full of chunks of meat and vegetables, so delicious it felt like his cheeks would fall off. The bread was unbelievably soft and sweet, so fluffy. It was the first time he'd ever had stew and bread this delicious.
Bao Bei ate desperately, without thinking about anything else, splattering stew all over the table in his frenzy.
...
He'd been bitten. Bitten hard.
Jihl looked down at the dog-eared child clamped onto the back of his hand with all his might.
Had he really frightened the kid that much?
Sighing deeply inside, he carried the child into the bathroom.
Maybe the kid had lost the will to resist—he was now quietly dangling in silence.
Then again, maybe it was this way of carrying him that made him so passive.
He's just like a Haruman.
It was a small animal with ears and a tail resembling those of dog-eared beastmen.
Some say they might even be distantly related to the ancestors of the dog-eared race.
He removed the clothes from the child who had wet himself in order to wash him. He secretly widened his eyes in surprise.
So beastman children really do have fur, huh?
It was the first time he had ever seen a young beastman child.
From his back to his belly, down to his feet, the child was covered in fur.
Is it perhaps to protect them, so that their body heat isn't stolen?
With this, even in cold regions or snowy mountains, a child would have a better chance of survival. It felt like he had just glimpsed a small part of what made beastmen strong.
His belly fur was white, while the fur on his back and legs was a patchwork of white, black, and brown, like a mottled tail.
All the beastmen he'd seen before had fur of a single color, so this child was quite the oddity, just from that alone.
After scrubbing him thoroughly with soap and rinsing him with warm water, the fur clung flat to his body, making his already thin frame appear even skinnier and smaller.
He felt sorry for having frightened such a child.
Even if he felt that way, Jihl was not the type to let those thoughts show on his face or in his words.
Still, after wiping off the moisture with a towel, the fur fluffed up again, soft and airy.
Relieved, Jihl quickly dressed the boy in one of his cotton shirts.
It was much too large for the small child—its hem reached below his knees—but it seemed like that one piece alone was enough to cover him.
When Jihl returned once to check on him, the child was curled up and sleeping.
He sprinkled baking soda over the carpet that had been soiled by the accident. If he wiped it off later, there wouldn't be a problem.
When he returned again, this time carrying dinner, the child was still asleep.
He placed a bowl of stew and a basket of bread on the table in front of the sofa, then walked over to the bed to check on the boy.
Perhaps the smell of stew had reached him—his nose was twitching continuously.
He began to squirm, moving as if crawling on his stomach like a caterpillar.
He stuck his head out so far it looked like he might fall right off the bed.
His stomach growled loudly and drool dripped from his open mouth.
What is this creature?
It was so funny and so cute that Jihl nearly burst out laughing.
He quickly held it in, but a weird muffled sound, gufu, escaped from his mouth anyway.
That was when the child woke up.
"Eat."