Imara Diversifies The Beastmen World

Chapter Fifty Seven: Oh, That's What's Wrong Huh?

As the morning arrived, I found myself unusually fatigued, locked in a silent battle to rise. All I wanted was to stay buried in the furs, the comfort of the bed wrapping around me like a cocoon. Despite the Hot Season, a strange chill lingered in the air, adding to my reluctance.

Wrapping myself in furs, I perched on the edge of the bed, trying to absorb their warmth. The temptation to surrender to drowsiness and return to sleep was too strong, so I gave in.

But my peaceful slumber didn't last. A cacophony of loud noises shattered the stillness, each sound slicing through my nerves like a sharp blade. Every breath, every footstep, every conversation, and even the damn wind outside seemed amplified.

I tried to block it out, but the racket from Harvey, the guys, or whoever else was in the house became too much. My irritation boiled over, and I threw the furs aside, snatched my water canister, and stormed out the door.

"What's with all this damn noise? You're interrupting my sleep!" I hollered, my voice echoing through the house.

Harvey and the guys froze, their bewildered and apologetic gazes meeting mine. I zeroed in on John, who was breathing loudly like he'd just run a marathon. "And why are you breathing so freaking hard, huh?" I demanded, blinking rapidly as my head cocked to the side.

The apologies came in a hurried chorus:

"My love, I'm sorry."

"Imara, I'm sorry!"

Just as I was about to calm down, Frank barged in, holding a massive wooden piece. "Harvey, this piece here is for the fence and-" His grand entrance was like a disaster in motion, causing a cascade of objects to tumble and break.

My patience snapped. "Take that outside now! Why in the hell would you bring a fence into the house, Frank?" Frustrated beyond reason, I hurled the water canister. It ricocheted off the wall and bonked John squarely on the head.

"Owwiee, Imara," John whimpered, clutching his head and casting me the saddest puppy-dog eyes.

Frank stammered out an apology as he backed out, but in his haste, he slipped. The wooden piece he was carrying shattered into fragments, sending splinters flying everywhere. Harvey and the guys scrambled to usher him outside, all of them ducking and dodging as if anticipating my next projectile.

In my frustration, I grabbed an orange from the side table and launched it out the door. It sailed past some nosy guards who had been peeking in, their grins vanishing as they scrambled to avoid the fruit missile.

"The hell is wrong with y'all?" I snapped, glaring at the guards. "A damn fence in the house?! And you damn right you're gonna fix whatever you broke! And what are y'all staring at, huhhhh?" My voice rose as I grabbed a basket of fruit, fully prepared to launch an all-out attack.

The guards raised their hands in surrender, their faces pale. "N-Nothing!" they stammered, backing away quickly.

As I started to walk out, they exclaimed, "Wait, your feet!"

I turned sharply, ready to protest. "Don't you tell me to wait, I-" My words halted as I glanced down. Barefoot. Again. Letting out an exaggerated sigh, I folded my arms, huffed, and waited for my house shoes.

Nicholas, ever the quick thinker, dashed over, found my shoes, and knelt to help me slip them on. I muttered, "Thanks," still cranky but a little less so, and resumed my antics.

"Now, who do you think you are, telling me to wait, huh?" I walked toward Harvey, who froze like a deer in headlights. His tail waved nervously, giving him away.

I reached him, pinching his ear lightly, not enough to hurt but enough to get my point across. The poor thing drooped his ears, looking so pitiful that it calmed me down. I couldn't help but laugh, even as I kept up my feigned irritation.