I Become the Baby Tiger in a Beast Taming World-Chapter 66: A Messy Meeting

Lobo, Demos, Gussie, and I gather inside Kaline’s bedroom, on her bed. It just feels cozier. And we have time to ourselves. Time to just be beasts, and to do beast business.

Kaline has gone with her mother and Vedette to the tailor’s to get fitted for their costumes for the Beast Taming Elimination Tournament, while Lamant wants to make do with his outfit from last year and just have the tailor make it look as good as new. Somehow, I suspect a new outfit will be arriving on the villa’s doorstep to blow Lamant’s old outfit out of the water.

Gussie sulks, picking her feathers with her bill, going over the feather shaft, not missing the most minuscule bit of dirt or dust. [I hear the clothes at this tailor’s are excellent. And we must look better than those new people in town. Those newcomers.]

Demos and Lobo have to bite down on whatever they can find to keep from laughing at Gussie, because she is uncharacteristically peevish.

I try to finesse the situation. [You could have gone with them.]

Gussie softens. [Well, no, not if you all needed me.]

I nuzzle Gussie affectionately, shooting a look at Demos and Lobo to quell their snickering. After all, Gussie has a right to her disappointment.

Demos clears his throat. [We just thought that since everyone is so focused on the tournament, we would do something about finding a beast for Niall. Believe me, we wanted to go. But Mistress Vedette said that beast costumes aren’t necessary, anyway.]

[Some of the beasts wear costumes.] Gussie frowns. [And those new people are going to dress their beasts up.]

Demos snorts. [Ribbons and collars are one thing, but nobody is putting some stupid costume on me. We’re tamed beasts, not pampered pets.]

Gussie huffs. [Maybe I would like a cape. In any case, it’s about seeing our family’s outfits. We should support them.]

I nudge Gussie with my nose and lick her feathers. [We are. If we get a beast for Niall, he’ll be able to join our household fully. He used to be quite renowned...]

[I know.] Gussie tucks in her beak, still petulant. [And I know we owe him...]

Lobo stands with his tail raised and ears angled forward. [He’s part of our pack, and we need to honor him.]

Gussie still doesn’t quite get it. She’s a good creature, but sometimes, she can get distracted by shiny objects, like a trip to the tailor. [But how can we find a beast ourselves? Shouldn’t our tamers help?]

[They’re all focused on the tournament.] Demos explains this to Gussie in a more patient manner than I’d expect from him, but then, he belonged to this house before any of us did.

Gussie pushes back. [They were before, and yet Blaze and Kaline took time out to go handle those imps on that farm.]

Lobo snorts. [I’d much prefer that to watching humans fuss over clothing. And handling the imp situation helped Blaze’s stats, which lifts our entire house up.]

[Bonding with our tamers helps, too!] Gussie spreads her wings, sticking them in Demos’ face so that they tickle him and he sneezes. [Everyone always says how the bond between us and our tamers is the most important thing. Well, going shopping would have helped!]

I’m tempted to say that Gussie is whining over nothing, but part of me feels detached, watching all of this with almost scientific interest. [Gussie, you really wanted to go to the tailor’s, didn’t you? It was that important to you.]

Gussie frets. [YES. But I was outvoted!]

Normally, Gussie goes along with us. She always is up for adventure and training and daring things. Now, she’s fashion-obsessed somehow.

I lick Gussie’s feathers and smooth them. [Gussie, I promise that we’ll go to the tailor the next time. I promise.]

Gussie chirps, still smelling miffed. [I really wanted to go this time. But you are all spoilsports.]

Lobo and Demos growl. [Gussie!]

[No, she has a right to squawk.] I stare down Lobo and Demos. [We didn’t respect her wishes.]

Lobo, a loyal booster for Niall, refuses to concede. [But we have a quest! A quest for a perfect beast. Where is that perfect beast? We’re not getting any closer to finding him or her, sitting around squabbling about tailors and fashion!]

Gussie hops away in a huff, disrespected.

Demos lumbers after her, but I block his way. [Let her go, Demos. She needs a moment to breathe. She’ll come around.]

Demos utters an exasperated "uff." [So difficult...]

Tactfully, I redirect the conversation. [Where do we go looking for this new beast? The jungle?]

Lobo wags his tail. [A prime spot!]

[Prime hunting ground.] Demos is only too happy to endorse the plan. [And we should go now.]

My fur stands up, because I’m suddenly wary and overcautious. [The jungle calls. But there may be poachers around. Maybe we should go with Lamant.]

Demos and Lobo growl, aggravated that they can’t just go haring off to the forest on a wild, but targeted, romp. [Will Lamant agree?] Lobo inquires.

Demos grudgingly accepts the idea. [And should we take Niall?]

[Yes to the latter, but as to the former, we need Gussie.] My jeweled tiger eyes bore into both of them. [Which means we need to grovel and offer her something good.]

Resigned, Lobo rolls over, showing submission, and whines plaintively. [Gussie. Come back.]

Several minutes flit by, and being three bold beasts, we finally venture out to check on Gussie. The room is empty. No bird. Our noses pick up her trail, leading right to the closet, where Gussie perches, staring longingly at Kaline’s dresses, trousers, tunics, and robes.

[Look at all the colors. Just like flowers.] Gussie strokes the clothing with her beak, rubbing her head against it. [So beautiful.]

A sudden longing fills me. A longing for the human world, and for clothes. [Yes, the most beautiful things in the world. We are sorry that we didn’t go to the tailor’s.]

The scent of the fabric awakens nostalgia in me. Funny, I never appreciated clothes this much when I was human. I suppose the old song had it right. You don’t really know what you’ve got till it’s gone.

All of a sudden, I rub myself against Kaline’s clothing, bathing in her scent, but more, reveling in the feeling of silks and cottons and satins and every type of fabric there is.

Lobo plays along, wrapping himself in one of Kaline’s dresses. [Oh, you’re right. You are wise, oh, Gussie, our feathered seer. We should have gone to the tailor.]

[Aren’t they perfect?] Gussie can’t help preening triumphantly. [I would never wear any of them, but I have an eye for fashion. So, we will go to the tailor’s next time?]

Lobo, Demos, and I all howl and roar our enthusiastic support. [Yes!]

We all romp among Kaline’s clothes and get a little too overzealous about the apparel. Skirts, tunics, and trousers fly all over. Scarves, too. It looks like a wardrobe exploded.

"STOP THAT AT ONCE!"

Our frenemy, Ser Maartenwitz, hoists me up as I’m yowling in dismay.

Lobo, Demos, and Gussie turn into guilty statues, staring at Maartenwitz. He’s still painfully thin in body, but his face does look more filled out these days.

He grips me behind my front legs. "Now, is this any way to behave?"

Gussie lowers her head, because, of course, she started all this. "No way to behave," she replies in a hushed voice. Never did any bird look more humble.

I let out a "mrrp," and stare into Maartenwitz’s brown eyes, willing him to understand. Contrite, Lobo bumps his nose against Maartenwitz’s bony knee, and Demos makes a little "uff" sound.

Tense and coiled like razor wire, Maartenwitz relaxes his shoulders, meeting my gaze. "Just having a bit of fun, are you?"

Gussie squawks, relieved. "We are having fun. We want to go hunting."

[Don’t tell him why.] I don’t know why, but I want to keep our mission a secret from Maartenwitz.

Lobo and Demos agree. Demos is paranoid. [He might let something slip to Niall.]

"Hunting is usually done with your tamers," Maartenwitz says with a stern look on his face. "Maybe I should find some useful task for you?"

I growl at Gussie. [Tell him to let the Master decide.]

Wings spread, Gussie demands, "Let the Master decide! We want Master Riddlehoeven."

Maartenwitz lowers me safely to the ground and beckons a servant to come in and tidy up the fashion explosion. "Perhaps we shouldn’t disturb Master Riddlehoeven."

"We want the Master," Gussie demands, undaunted. She flaps around, hovering at eye level with Maartenwitz. "Only the Master!"

Maartenwitz’s needle-like eyebrows get even more pointed. "You are quite the little personality, aren’t you? Must be that wild and free spirit. Very well. Let us go and see the Master. But this incident will be recorded." He makes a note on his tablet.

Fine. Maartenwitz can write us up to his heart’s content, as long as we get to go to the jungle in pursuit of Niall’s perfect beast! This is our chance, and I’m not going to let it slip away.