OUTWORLD: Sea Dog

OUTWORLD: Sea Dog Part 8

Michelle growled as she sank her teeth into a thick, sugary pastry, squeezing the cream inside into her maw. She wrung out the treat with her paws, likening it to Rafferty's neck. She was angry, she knew, and so she growled and snarled and hissed as she ate, but she was bloody hungry as well. She gulped down the remnants and grabbed another pastry.

Daggett and Ames sat with her at the commons table, chewing on their own pastries and leaning ever so slightly away from the slaughter. Daggett sniffed, twitching his whiskers. "Any reason you're disembowelling those defenseless pastries?" the Otter asked delicately.

Michelle looked up at him, a sudden misgiving tugging at her. She knew why she was angry, but she couldn't bring herself to tell him why. How could she speak ill of Rafferty to those who had known and worked with him longer? She licked at the jam and cream that had matted her muzzle and shrugged. "Just hungry, I guess." At least that was true.

Her sensitive nose twitched as it picked up traces of meat. She peered into the second box and drooled as she recognized the coating on these pastries. Beef tallow. She clutched one and stuffed it whole into her mouth.

Ames chortled. "Need a coffee to go with that?"

Michelle's eyes locked onto the boxes of warm Caffe TuGeaux cups, her nose now picking up the rich aroma of their contents. Dog-chocolate mochas. She picked up a cup and slugged back everything that was inside, slurping it down to the dregs, then dropped the cup, and went for another, and then another. Huskies had massive metabolisms, and so ate and drank a lot to sustain themselves. As a two-hundred-pound Siberian Husky, Michelle was naturally no exception. Though Symba Prime was not a cold world, she was still driven to build up fat and survive, and her energy levels required a huge intake.

She looked back to Daggett and Ames, who were still eyeing her askance. Michelle felt self-conscious; she had no doubt that her wiry appearance was at stark odds with the appetite she had displayed.

Ames seemed keen to move on. "So, what happened to you last night, love? When you didn't come onto the dance floor, we came looking for ya, and you were gone!"

Michelle snuffled. "Don't know. Just tired, I guess."

"Well, you slept soundly," Daggett smiled. "You didn't even wake up when we got Lina back here and she started singing!"

"On that note..." Ames looked over at the still-sleeping Badger; Michelle had been gratified to see that Lina had remained unconscious through the exchange with Rafferty. "Is she not up yet?"

Daggett snorted. "Yeah. She's our team leader after all. We need her to, y'know, lead us."

Michelle glanced at the sofa as Lina's stomach gurgled loudly. The Badger let out a muzzy, queasy-sounding moan, clutching her belly and letting out a loud, protracted belch. She obviously didn't like the taste of what came up; she smacked noisily and stuck out her tongue, letting out another soft whimper as she began to snore again.

Ames sighed. "She ate a whole lot and drank even more. I don't think she's gonna be up for a while."

Daggett snorted. "Yep. The Badger with the Bottomless Stomach. She could be a carnival attraction." He eyed Michelle. "You shoulda seen it, Pow. A whole platter of chicken legs went into her."

Michelle wrinkled her muzzle. "Smells like they came right out again."

Ames laughed and reached for a coffee – the only one left in that box after Michelle's rampage – and sipped at it. "Oh, this is lovely," the Fox moaned. "Locally grown. World away from the instant crap." She wiped her muzzle with a paw, eyes flicking to Michelle and Daggett. "Y'know, I talked to one of Lina's former OSA buddies, Denise something or other. Apparently, Lina's got a reputation as a bit of a lush." She slurped on her coffee. "After last night, I can see why." Her nose suddenly twitched, and she looked to Daggett. "You smell that?"