A Talkative Lion in Human's Clothing

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Chapter Twelve! Anyone else excited?

Not entirely sure how many dedication I can do on this story, So I'll mention them here and then try and see if I can put them all up.

I'd like to thank JennyBaldwin, for voting for this story. It really surprised me! I saw one of your votes once, thought "I will dedicate a chapter to her" and promptly forgot (but that's just me :D) I logged in this morning, saw you had voted for a previous chapter. it had "Four more like this." All from you! That made my day, so thanks!

To SilverSkylines and marZsapanzuh13. You guys snuck up on me. I wasn't expecting followers, but it made my day when I check my inbox and I see "x is following Scrempt" It's like a smile automatically comes to my face and I'm in a ~FANTASTIC~ mood all day long. I hope you guys now know you bring a smile to my face. Cheers.

To my IRL friends who read this, you guys are amazing. Thank you for reading this. I totally don't self promote this do I? ;D

Cheers everyone. Thanks so much.

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Despite my outward bravado, I’m shitting myself. I’m planning to walk past five plus patrols of Protectors, with only a scarf and some Brand-covering cream I stole from a hotel I illegally camp in two days ago. I’m exactly five steps ahead of Leona and extremely grateful that she’s dragging the chain. As interested as I am to see if this brainless plan of mine work, I’m not overly eager to see what will happen if it doesn’t.

I’ve decided that if I’m going to test this theory, I’ll be better off targeting a smaller selection of Protectors to be my trial group. We’ll have a greater chance of surviving the bullets being shot at us with less people.

Dredging what little courage and pride I have left, I lift my head and walk down to the humans. My gait is far too animalistic, so I try to straighten and stiffen my steps. I let my shoulders slope, copying the Protectors who look close to my age. I can hear a few talking, but it’s far to clipped and quick for me to properly analyse and copy.  

As I approach the walls, I watch the humans shout to each other and point to Leona and I. With our jackets on, our genders are unidentifiable. It’s not until we get close that the male Protectors notice our feminine figures. They relax, nudging each and giving each other sly looks.

When we reach the men, an overweight, senior looking man shuffles forward, pulling out some papers of some kind. Eyeing the wording, it’s something about your heritage. Question’s like ‘who’s your mother, what bloodline does she come from?’ or ‘When was your last DNA test and what was your Human to Halfie ratio? Note: anything less than 100% Human is classified as Halfie and if your papers do not pass regulations, you will be processed.’ When I glance back at the man, he’s giving me a hard stare. Surprised, I turn to Leona. She’s giving me a hard stare as well, but I doubt it’s for the same reason as this large human in front of me.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” I carefully say to the man, turning back to face him. I’ve tried to mimic him as best I can, but it sounds dodgy.  

My heart speeds up while he looks at me critically. Suddenly his expression changes to that of exasperation. “I said; Remove your scarf, Halfie scum. Just because you have a fine body doesn’t mean I won’t hesitate to have my men shoot you down. After they’ve had their fun of course; We don’t get women from outside very often.”

The look on the young male faces is enough to make me understand what the old man’s trying to tell me. I’m left kinda curious as to what they’d think of me if they knew I was a Halfie. Would they still think of us as attractive? As interested as I am, I’m not that game. Slowly, I unwind the scarf until I can easily lift it away from my face.

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