In the dimly lit kitchen, fresh cherries were plucked and casually tossed aside as Belga redirected his attention to playfully spanking the juicy peaches. Coral's orchard was both tormented and delighted by this mischievous gardener. Meanwhile, the platter of small bread eagerly sought some sauce, only to find its desires thwarted as Belga, with a mischievous grin, wove clean vines of the Miketo plant to seal the bread, preventing any delicious sauce from escaping. The vine has penetrated deep into the small bread, and its fragrant sap acts as a delightful mediator, ensuring smooth passage within the confines of the bread wrap. Coral feels that the carefully prepared dinner is entirely seasoned by this vine. Despite the oven's scorching temperatures, the intense desire for this spicy feast rushes against his skin with the fervor of fiery flames. The anticipation to savor this dinner is palpable. Even from the forefront of the bread, the vine boldly reached the deeply buried wine-soaked cherry, viciously teasing and playing with it. Coral's eyes glazed over as he convulsively trembled and screamed in weakness. Unable to enjoy the feast fully, he had to endure the ongoing frustration of having the delicacies right in front of him but out of reach, thanks to the meddling vine. It continued until the unbearable patience and the gnawing hunger almost overwhelmed him. Only then did his mischievous little brother relent, slowly withdrawing the vine that had delivered the ultimate torment and anticipation, allowing him to finally partake in his meal.
Right as he was about to take a bite, the meticulously crafted custard sauce didn't gush out as expected from the little loaf. Instead, it trickled out like a gentle stream, cruelly prolonging the moment of instant excitement for what felt like an eternity. The excessive anticipation and sensation rendered Coral incapable of even screaming; he merely opened his mouth, convulsing silently. Unconscious drool trickled down his neck onto the carpet. His entire body, was taut as a fully drawn bow. In the narrow kitchen, Coral hurriedly nudged the sturdy embrace of his robust younger brother, attempting to quickly wriggle free. However, his infuriated brother smacked a resounding slap onto the plump, juicy peach. "Ah!!!" Coral cried out in agony.
With a face full of terror, Coral clutched his stomach with one hand and desperately tried to cover the ripe peach with the other. He cried out, 'No! No! Go away! Don't look! Ahhh~~~!' But Belga paid no heed. Dragging Coral into the pantry with a mischievous glint, Belga forcibly made him climb the ladder to retrieve a can of pineapples. After a hearty meal and consuming a considerable amount of juice, the unsettling sensation in Coral's stomach became more pronounced. The pink blush from his appetite on his cheeks faded to white, fearing he might lose control in front of his younger brother. Coral screamed, shaking his head, yet a strange pleasure filled his heart. Can he really treat this place like a toilet, shamelessly exposed to his brother's gaze? Now, he has to fetch the pineapple can for his brother, but he really needs to use the restroom. This feeling is just too awkward...
Coral, in a fit of abandon, wondered why he could go so wild as to find such joy in secretly splashing juice in front of his younger brother. 'This... How is it possible?!' Coral, on the verge of collapse, shook his head in disbelief, gazing with teary, wide apricot eyes at the expressionless deep mahogany young man.
'How is it not possible?' Belga said each word deliberately, playfully kissing the young Therianthrope's cheek. Affectionately, he slightly rubbed against his brother's shoulder before contentedly saying, 'If you don't believe it, take a look for yourself, my dear big brother.' With that, he opened the storage room door wider, revealing the shrunk Coral on the shelf and his pants that were steaming with fresh and warm water vapour. After Coral saw through the glass window the scene where his whole body turned alluringly pink in his younger brother’s arms, and those damn pants still steamed, his entire heart and soul heated up due to embarrassment and shyness. Even though he had crumbled into tears, his eyes couldn't help but glance repeatedly at the unfortunate reflection displayed in the window.
“A triumphant victory isn’t it?”says Belga, “You've siphoned all the gas from my tank!” He chuckled and patted Coral’s back, while Coa is still keeping breathless. This slight movement activates poor Coa’s vigilance as the fear of lengthening this period of war is arising.
Belga carefully slows down and deepens his strokes, filling Coral's oven to its limit. With every muscular effort, poor Coral's peach can't help but release its alluring sap, creating a tempting aroma in the kitchen. And Corals’ mind directs its complete attention to the rhythmic cycle, whenever this is achieved, there is no doubt that the raging tempest of activity takes away all his thinking abilities, leaving only pleasure beyond expectation. However, after satiating his hunger, Belga's contentment led to a growing clarity and rationality.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
"Are you still daring enough to sneak into the Carbuncle Jungle alone?" The thought of this made Belga somewhat angry. His brother had ventured into the Carbuncle Jungle just for some tempting berries! Didn't he know how many venomous snakes and fierce beasts lurked there? He spent quite a long time wandering around! What if something happened... Belga didn't even dare to entertain that 'what if.' He tightened his grip on his brother's arm, his eyes reddening. Sensing his brother's distressed mood, Coral lifted his head from Belga's chest. Surprisingly, the usually cold and expressionless brother furrowed his brows, holding back tears.
Witnessing Belga in such a state of distress, Coral, despite his rough exterior, began to feel guilty. He kissed the corner of his brother's lips, then obediently nestled back into his embrace. "Bell, I won't go to the wilderness alone again, I'm sorry." He heard his brother calling his name like he was a treasure, and it felt like they were back in their childhood.
"What kind of feeling is it?" Coral struggled to describe the sensation he was experiencing, a mix of sourness and sweetness, much like the berries in the Carbuncle Jungle. Lost in his thoughts, Coral forgot about the dangerous creatures in the jungle. Chasing the trail of the sunset, he ventured deeper into the forest, momentarily forgetting the perils.
But no, he was well aware of the dangers and mysteries of this jungle. When he caught a glimpse of a familiar figure, Coral felt a sense of relief, stepping confidently into the unknown. There were many questions he longed to discover, such as a sort of truth or dare. Let him undertake this test, exploring the enigmas he couldn't unravel.
As the sun sank, casting a melancholic shadow from the eaves, the contours of everything became blurred and elusive. In that moment, how could one distinguish whether the approaching figure from afar was their faithful lover, akin to a loyal hound, or a wolf on the prowl, seeking prey?
"Belga, who are you truly? Do you still belong to me? Should I let you go?" Coral silently pondered in his heart, maintaining a facade of carefree berry-picking. He intentionally veered toward the west, where the thickest thorn bushes of the berry grove grew. Progressing until human passage was impeded by the thorns, he transformed into his canine form, leaping onto the cliff beside the berry bushes. This was a feat that ordinary canine-type Therianthropes could hardly achieve. Despite Coral's agile canine body, his jumping ability remained limited. The narrow rocks stirred an instinctive fear in Coral; he shivered and huddled, emitting short, whimpering sounds.
A familiar figure flashed before his teary eyes, and in an instant, a dark giant canine leaped to his side. The mildly warm fur draped over him like the boundless night over the vast earth. The massive canine-like creature gently guided him down the cliff. However, even so, Belga remained silent. Coral's heart sank, and the conjecture buried deep within him gained a bit more certainty. Yes, this was evidently inconsistent with the instinct of canine Therianthropes, who would bark in chorus and fear elevated places and natural hazards. Belga's silence, agility, and vigilance resembled the legendary ancestral tribe of Therianthropes—the Wolf Clan.
So, let us invert the hourglass, turn the clock counterclockwise, and let memories backtrack to the moment when Coral first detected the wolfish traits in Belga.
The Milky Way, a brilliant tapestry of stars, resembled an overturned milk bottle, and beneath the constellation's embrace, the full moon belonged solely to six-year-old Coral. It was always this way, wasn't it? Just like all the candies and indulgences reserved exclusively for little Coa, as far as the eye could see, from this side of the Milky Way to the unreachable other side, it naturally belonged to this pampered little king. Coral assumed this as a matter of course and acted accordingly.
He swaggered over to the tiny, curled-up puppy form of Belga. Coral's chubby little hands, brimming with confidence, poked the furry head of the little dog, causing the fur on its head to tousle. Coral, devoid of any intention to sleep, whimsically began rubbing the two chubby little hands against the direction of Belga's fur. The once small puppy bundle was now forcefully transformed into a fluffy yarn ball. Excitedly observing the little dog, now twice its original size, Coral was overjoyed, while the forcibly awakened Belga failed to sense this happiness.
The slightly cool evening breeze flowed into his slightly opened eyes, dispelling the last trace of weariness. When he opened his eyes again, he saw Coa's back—the full moon outside the window. As if some substance were traversing through his veins, unfamiliar emotions surged in the ancestral bloodline. Sensations of something peculiar gradually overwhelmed him, reason slipping out of control, sobriety descending, and the remaining shreds of consciousness starting to overload and become intermittent. Belga could no longer recall those ancient memories; he vaguely remembered something breaking through his throat, earnestly worshipping the supreme and noble full moon. Along with his trembling heart, a subtle pain accompanied him.