(Kurai)

I slept outside in the snow. No way was I going to let my mom take my turtledoves. I digested them; they were very delicious. My belly is looking particularly pudgy now.

“Day three! Whoo hoo! I wonder what I’ll be eating this time!” I exclaim.

I run back home in hopes of finding Cheese. I find her wearing a tiny little hat my mom must have given her. There is snow caked onto the ground and it honestly looks delicious like vanilla frosting. I lick it, but, well…not as delicious as it looks.

“Kurai! Hi!” Cheese exclaims.

“I’m ready for day three! What happens on day three?” I ask, wagging my tail.

“The third day is three French Hens, two turtledoves, and a partridge in a pear tree,” Cheese states.

“Oh… That sounds significantly more difficult than two turtledoves…but I’m sure I can handle it!” I exclaim.

“A bit ambitious. Have you seen how big hens can get?” Cheese asks.

“Right, right…but I MUST get three French hens. I can’t stop before I’m even half way through the challenge!” I say.

“Go for it,” Cheese says. “I eagerly await your return.”

So I venture out into the snowy world, seeking out a trio of French Hens. If I remember correctly, they are a bit fluffier and fancier looking than the standard hens who live around my area. Finding their residence might be trouble. My feet carry me onwards, my pudgy belly leaving trails in the snow.

Little did I know, I was about to indulge in approximately 27 pounds of fresh chicken meat. I stumble upon Foxy, my white fox friend. Ah, if ANYONE were to know how to locate a chicken, it would be a fox. Foxy looks up from chewing on some bones.

“Hey, Kurai! What brings you to this side of town?” Foxy asks, grinning.

“I need help. I’m on a quest to find and eat the twelve days of Christmas,” I explain.

“Ooooooh! That sounds like fun!” Fox says. “You should have invited me!”

“I didn’t think anyone else would be interested. I’ve already consumed two turtledoves and a partridge in a pear tree. Now I need help finding three French hens,” I reply.

“French hens? I know a few. There’s a flock of them living down this way,” Foxy says, getting up and stretching. “Follow me.”

I follow after my fox friend. As she had mentioned, quite a few French chickens are living in a small apartment complex of sorts down the road. These guys are chunky! Foxy, being clever, grabs a bag of corn and rips it open.

“FREE FOOD!” Foxy announces.

I watch as the chickens flood to the corn as if corn off the floor is the best thing ever. Now is my chance! I leap in and strike. NOM one French hen… OH NO, THEY ARE RUNNING AWAY! I give chase with one hen in my belly.

Foxy whoops and cheers excitedly. Mass chaos occurs as the chickens scream. I continue chasing and BLAM! I pounce on another hen and, as she is screaming, I swallow her.

I feel rather full with just two of these hens. My stomach drags. Oh man, what did I get myself into?! I pant, trying to keep up with the hens.

The sharp talons of the hens feel like they might rip me open and escape. My stomach groans and I feel a bit sick. Foxy leaps in and chases a real chonker of a hen right towards me. Mmmmm… Boom, she’s my food.

“Whoooo! That was thrilling!” Foxy says. “I’ll take one as well!”

I watch as Foxy pounces and captures her own French Hen. I belch loudly as the hens argue and fuss in their acidic flesh prison. Foxy grins and waddles over to me. I laugh, she laughs, and we’re both having a great time.

“Look at you! Your belly is bigger than you! How do you expect to go home like that?” Foxy asks.

“I didn’t think about that…but I need to get home to show Cheese,” I say.

We stare at each other for a moment. My stomach lets out a really loud and long groan. Next thing I know, Foxy is rolling me home as I struggle to not puke. I MUST keep the hens down for it to count.

“Making a snowball is very easy!” Foxy sings, pushing me along.

“Mmmphhh,” I groan, struggling.

“All you gotta do is push it along!” Foxy sings, her stubby little legs even shorter than my own.

I am getting encased in snow. Oh gosh, I feel sooooo sick… Foxy sings a little la la la, as she keeps rolling me along. At last, we make it to my house. Cheese is waiting there with a mug of hot milk.

“Well, well, well, I sent you off to eat three hens, and you returned as a snowball,” Cheese says.

“I…URRRRRRPPPPPPP! ate the hens,” I say with a dramatic belch in the middle. “Three French hens!”

“Show me. I can’t see under all that snow,” Cheese says.

Foxy helps remove my snowy encasement. It is then that Cheese examines my enormous bulging belly. She nods, approving. Task three officially complete!

“You did it! You ate three French hens!” Cheese exclaims, clapping and cheering.

“You have GOT to be kidding me!” my mom hollers.

(Suisen)

I am worried sick. My daughter ran away from home last night. All I have now is her best friend, a mouse. It’s SNOWING out there.

“Do you think Kurai will come back?” Cheese asks, yawning.

“She always does eventually…except for when she didn’t,” I reply.

My mind wanders back to when Kurai got stuck in the factory. Now THAT had me REALLY sick. I rescued her, of course, now we’re here a few months later. She got expelled from Reeds Intelligence Academy, but I’ve been trying to enroll her elsewhere.

“I would suggest making hot chocolate, but you can’t have chocolate, right?” Cheese asks.

“Yeah, chocolate is poison,” I reply. “…but, I can make hot milk.”

“Oooh! That sounds nice!” Cheese exclaims.

So I end up spending the night AND day with Cheese. I craft a little hat for her out of some fabric. I wouldn’t want my daughter’s friend to die from the cold. I would make her mittens and booties as well, but even the hat was hard to weave.

“Thank you, I’m going to look for your daughter!” Cheese says and leaves with her new hat.

Again, I begin to feel lonely. If it hadn’t been for what happened with Kurai’s dad, I’d probably have him and a new pup by now. I always wonder, how would my life be different if I had more kids? Would Kurai end up killing them?

I wander about the house, cleaning stuff up. It’s not that messy in here because Kurai has been gone all night. As I pace, I find a ball of paper on the floor. Better clean that up!

I pick up the paper ball in my mouth and carry it to the trash can. Promptly, it is disposed of. Who knows how a ball of paper got on the floor anyhow. Then I wonder…was anything written on the paper?

I try so hard to ignore it. It was crinkled up, so clearly it doesn’t matter…but why was it there where I could find it? I return to the trash can and reach my muzzle in. Got it, got the paper ball back.

I uncrinkle the paper ball. Carefully, I run my paws over it, smoothening out the crinkles. It’s Kurai’s writing. The letter reads ‘Dear Santa, this year, I want a lot of things. However, the one thing I want more than anything is a father. A lot of my friends at school have a dad, but I don’t. Please, bring me a father this Christmas. -Kurai’ sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Find ɴøᴠel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

I burst out laughing. Silly Kurai! Why would Santa bring you a father?! Before I crinkle the paper up, I notice a little drawing of Kurai and Arashi at the bottom. NO! anyone BUT Arashi! I hate Arashi!

I eat the paper ball. I don’t want to see that nonsense ever again. I wish Kurai would stop insisting that Arashi is her father. He’s the LEAST qualified to be her father.

After fuming for awhile, I head outside. Perhaps Kurai has returned home. Sure enough, my daughter is home. Kurai’s EVEN FATTER than before!

“You have GOT to be kidding me!” I cry out in frustration.

“Oh no,” Kurai says.

“What did you do this time?!” I ask.

Wellll, I just ate three French hens, previously, I ate two turtledoves AND a partridge in a pear tree,” Kurai says.

“I helped!” Foxy announces.

“Ugh, Kurai, you need better friends,” I say with a groan. “These ones keep encouraging your bad behavior!”

“Look, I promise I’ll take a break after I finish the twelve days of Christmas. Just don’t tell the police!” Kurai pleads. “Please!”

“Ugh, fine! But I don’t in any way approve of this behavior!” I yell.

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