Egaran Stars - 27. Reinard- Xtapódi

The Faro stepped into a warm, fluffy towel, his fur crackling with static as he dried himself off. Now that he was no longer drowned within an inch of his life, Reinard was feeling ravenous. Breakfast seemed so long ago, the entire day dragging out to this point.

Pulling on his last set of clean clothes, the fox frowned at the diapers tucked away in the corner of the room. Nareen’s words came back to him. Did he really want to wear the things? They were humiliating.

No, he was not wearing them. He’d just deal with the bed situation another way. Fuck Galen and fuck the diapers. If the tiger wanted him in the diapers, he would have to make the fox wear them.

Stepping out of the bathroom, the Faro headed toward the kitchen, grabbing his supply of nepáta. Galen had left him to his own devices, promising to bring home some sort of dinner. And Reinard was going to take full advantage of that. He had the kitchen to himself, and though it would be a bit of a workout to move the chair all over the room so he could stand on it and reach the counters, the Faro was determined to make it work. The oven was on, the heat building inside, and the fox was ready to start baking.

His old brownies were gone. Apparently the fox had eaten more than he thought the previous night. This time, Reinard figured he’d make the brownies less potent so he could still enjoy the taste of the chocolate.

The first step was melting a chocolate bar, before mixing several ingredients together. Reinard followed the process Themis had shown him the other day, adding the chocolate and a bit of water to the mix before whisking with a heavy hand.

Grabbing a knife, the Faro began chopping a leaf up into fine bits, the juice of the leaf tickling at his nose as he worked. The chair he was on wobbled slightly, the fox taking a breath as he set the knife down. Waiting for the wobbling to stop, he resumed his work, scooping the leaf into the brownie mix. A bit more mixing and a bit of whisk licking, and the Faro decided the mix looked good enough. From previous experience, he figured the result would be a little dry, but it would still do the trick. And all without using fish eggs or some other Egaran monstrosity. The fox was feeling a little proud.

Jumping off the chair with a thump, Reinard hurried from the room, stashing his nepáta out of sight in a dresser. The fox doubted Galen would try to take some, but he figured it was better to be safe.

His tail was high, the Faro feeling really good. This was his first solo cooking mission on the new world, and barring a mishap with the oven, it would be successful for once.

Spreading the mix into a tray, Reinard took his time flattening it, making sure there were no air pockets. Pulling the tray off the table was a little difficult, the fox grunting quietly as he held it over his head. He carried the tray to the oven, carefully holding the metal against his chest as he nudged the oven door open. Heat blasted him, the Faro getting a faceful of hot air. He shoved the tray into the oven, before dragging the chair over to fix the timer.

“What are you doing?!”

Reinard let out a yelp, spinning around on the chair. He fell, hand grabbing at the stovetop with a loud thump. Catching himself, the Faro scowled at Galen, the tiger dropping a box on the table.

“See? Standing on chairs is not safe,” Galen sighed. “Get down before you hurt yourself. I told you to wait for your tea so I could help you.”

“This wasn’t for the tea,” Reinard grunted, sliding off the chair.

He dragged the chair across the floor, the legs rumbling as he pushed it into the table. Kneeling in the chair, the fox looked over the table.

“So what is this amazing meal you had to go out to get?”

“Xtapódi. I figured we could celebrate the chelóna killing the Cnidarian by eating its brother.”

Reinard grimaced as he looked at nearly a dozen small tentacles, black circles making the meat look diseased. He didn’t remember seeing these tentacles on the beast.

“Won’t these sting us?”

“No. These tentacles pull the food to their mouths. They’re completely safe,” Galen replied, setting the kettle on the stove. “Xtapódi do not have stinging tentacles.”

Grabbing a pair of plates, the tiger sat across from the fox, scooping out a few of the tentacles and a handful of fried rings. Reinard stared at the food uncertainly, his stomach gurgling. An oily sauce was set before the Faro, Galen picking up one of the tentacles. The tiger dipped it into his own sauce, slurping the almost rubbery meat into his mouth with obvious relish.

“Don’t eat it like that,” Reinard frowned.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re in a video. It’s disgusting…”

Galen shook his head slowly, dipping another tentacle. His tongue escaped his mouth, bathing the limp tentacle in hot tiger breath as he licked up the sauce.

“Mmm, if you want the wine based sauce, just ask,” he said seductively.

The Faro glared at the Egaro, poking at one of the tentacles. Picking it up, he bit into the tip, grimacing at the feeling of the meat sliding down his throat.

“No, you have to dip it first or you won’t taste anything,” Galen sighed. “Here.”

He dipped one of his tentacles into the red sauce, holding it out for Reinard.; The fox bit into it, close to the tiger’s fingers, and Galen hastily withdrew his fingers.

“Hey, watch it!”

Reinard shook his head with a smirk that turned into a gag as he swallowed the food.

“You can have these. The sandwich was better,” the Faro grimaced, sliding his plate across the table. “I need to go do laundry anyways. I’ll just figure something else out for dinner.”

Something that probably included not eating, but then, it wasn’t the first time he had gone without, and somehow Reinard had the feeling it wouldn’t be the last time.