Beauties and Beasts

Chapter 96: brought to you by umbrellas

Today on "Shameless Fantasies": a continuation of angst, or perhaps a flashback to angst, the forshadowing of future angst in the form of a perceived rival, a continuation of romantic tension, and we all try to stay calm and pick our zits. Hopefully they're properly popping ones and not those annoying swollen red ones that just stick around to mar your face.

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"Stop touching me."

"I'm not touching you." Benedict sounded indignant, but not quite as outraged as he should.

"Then stop doing whatever it is you say you aren't doing." Orson growled.

"I'm merely walking by your side; what could be less threatening than that?"

"Walking on the other side of the caravan, that's what."

"I just want to keep a close eye on my..."

Orson spun in place and leveled a glare at the much-taller beastman. "If you say 'prize' one more time, I'll rip your tail off and beat you with it."

The tail in question fluffed slightly and Benedict grinned. "My tail is very soft. Are you sure you wouldn't like that?"

A scowl that now seemed permanently wedged between Orson's eyebrows cracked the smooth skin and made him look even more fierce. "Do not insinuate..."

Neara thought about sighing, knowing she couldn't, and balled her fists on her legs. It had been hard, learning to ride bareback, but with her hands on her thighs, the beastman beneath her couldn't feel her twinges of emotion and report back to Winston. They'd already stopped the caravan multiple times just on her sighs, worried she'd begin crying again. Her eyes had gone beyond puffy to permanently itchy, the full sack of water thumping at her side. They insisted she drink half a bag between every stop to stay hydrated. Orson made the opening narrow so she could drink without spilling on herself, saying, "If you're going to cry all the time, at least keep yourself supplied with fresh tears."

Shay... the name sent a thrill through her body almost like throwing up, but despite her mental anguish, her body seemed too tired to react. She ate everything they brought her, every berry and morsel of meat, and drank everything they gave her, but she never felt satisfied or hungry... or really anything. Orson even had to tell her to go to the bathroom, which meant stopping the caravan more, besides the breaks every few hours they gave her from the sun. Even with the ridiculous hood on her, made from a thick hide, failed to make her feel, although the sweat beading on her nose meant she was hot... right?

Orson rolled her from the beastman every night and Winston... well, he hadn't been around much. She didn't want to read into it or anything, but the times he was around, he whispered in his deep voice to Orson or Benedict, not really talking to her. He didn't spend a lot of time around the other girl, though, which was a relief. Although it shouldn't be... but she did like him... maybe. Was she actually feeling those things or was it just... what she thought she should be feeling? The emotions clunked hollowly against her soul, or core, or maybe it just rattled in her head. There didn't seem to be much to her, despite her protests that she was fine.

"Hey!" A breathy voice called out.

She turned slowly on her beastman to see another huge bear ambling up, the tiny female perched delicately on his back, her pink skirts arranged neatly around her.

"I finally convinced them to let us talk. Can you believe this heat? Ugh. I guess you can since you're wearing that hood and everything." She fanned her face with a fan made from skin and branches.

Neara came up blank. Was she an NPC in her own life? Or maybe just Red from the first Pokemon game... silent, but everyone knew what he meant. Orson sure hadn't forced her to talk much, and he just let her crawl into her tent with her babies surrounding her every night. All eight of them... they were getting big.