Each one had some food left in it, and every bowl was coated in their good Wolfie’s saliva.
The wolf ate by curling her tongue around the food, which meant she’d basically licked everything she’d left behind.
The Snow Wolf sprawled on her blanket, staring at the human as if wondering why she wasn’t eating yet.
Sweat beaded on Ji Yingran’s forehead under that stare. Reluctantly, she picked up a bowl and dawdled, unable to bring herself to eat.
The Snow Wolf’s eyes narrowed slightly.
At this critical moment, Ji Yingran blurted out, “Wolfie, you left so much food for me? All this is for me? Wow, you’re such a great wolf.”
The Snow Wolf’s tail perked up as she lifted her chin, looking rather smug.
“But… I’m stuffed. I snuck some bites while cooking. Ate my fill already. Can’t eat more.”
The tail that had been proudly raised drooped instantly.
Snuck bites?
The two-legged beast snuck bites!
The Snow Wolf shot to her feet with a schwing, eyes wide in disbelief and anger: This Wolf is the Head Wolf! The Head Wolf eats first. How dare you sneak bites? Hateful!
The Head Wolf’s authority had been challenged, and she wasn’t happy.
She charged over, devoured the remaining food in the bowl, gnashing her teeth in fury as she ate. Once the ground was clear, she snatched the bowl from the human’s hands.
Sneaky slave—too much left for you. Never leaving you any again!!
Ji Yingran was torn between laughter and tears. She’d just made up an excuse, but now the wolf was even angrier. She couldn’t fathom this wolf’s thought process.
“Eat gently. Don’t break the bowls.” These disposable bowls were flimsy; Ji Yingran worried the wolf might bite right through them in two chomps.
They still needed reusing.
At those words, the Snow Wolf didn’t ease up—instead, she deliberately crunched two bowls to pieces.
Ji Yingran: “…”
Ji Yingran fell silent. One more word, and the rest might not survive.
The Snow Wolf polished off the food from the bowls, licked her chops, and still looked like she could eat more.
Still hungry after all that? This wolf’s stomach must be a bottomless pit. No, wait—a five-hundred-plus-pound wolf eating this much was hardly a pit. Probably just seventy percent full.
Ji Yingran chuckled lightly and pulled out the cracklings she’d stashed in the corner.
She’d kept the cracklings separate from the other dishes, so the Snow Wolf hadn’t noticed. Now, the moment she brought them out, the wolf’s golden wolf eyes lit up.
Another bowl!
She zoomed over in a flash.
Ji Yingran jumped. Good thing the wolf slammed on the brakes, or she’d have been headbutted to the ground.
“These are cracklings—the scraps from rendering lard. Sprinkled with salt. Good for snacking.”
The Snow Wolf nodded vigorously: Got it, got it. Hurry up and give it to This Wolf.
Ji Yingran didn’t hand them over right away. She hadn’t eaten any of the other dishes, and at least she needed some cracklings. The wolf probably only hunted once a day—she didn’t want to go hungry.
“One half for each of us, okay?” Ji Yingran negotiated.
The Snow Wolf nodded on instinct. In the face of good food, the wolf was very obedient and went along with whatever the human said.
But after nodding, she realized her mistake and bared her teeth in anger: What do you mean half each? I’m the Head Wolf! I eat first. Slaves don’t get to divvy up food—that’s the Head Wolf’s privilege!
Ji Yingran had no idea about her Head Wolf theories and had long forgotten she’d been the one to dub her that in the first place.
Giving the wolf the title of Head Wolf, then trying to take away her food-allocation rights? How could she not get mad?
The Snow Wolf bared her teeth at the human and lunged to snatch the food.
With her massive build, when the Snow Wolf pounced, the human couldn’t hold her ground and was pinned flat on the floor.
In the instant she fell, Ji Yingran instinctively braced with her hands. Her palm scraped raw, drawing a sharp hiss of pain.
As for the bowl of cracklings? Long gone in the wolf’s jaws.
Ji Yingran clutched her injured hand. It wasn’t serious—just a scraped palm—but it stung fiercely, especially with her preexisting frostbite. The fresh scrape piled pain on pain.
The Snow Wolf buried her head to monopolize the food and was about to dig in when she heard the human gasp behind her.
Her eating paused. She turned to look.
The human sat on the ground clutching her hand, eyes rimmed with what looked like tears.
The Snow Wolf’s ears flattened back: Why’s she crying? Again? Faking it?
She observed closely and saw the human’s eyes genuinely reddening—not fake.
Ji Yingran held out her hand for the wolf to see. “Look. You did this. I’m hurt.”
The Snow Wolf glanced at the scraped palm, lifted her head arrogantly, and snorted dismissively.
“It really hurts. Hurts a lot.” Ji Yingran sat on the ground, whining accusingly at the wolf.
The wolf ignored her, but her ears stayed flat.
After a few seconds of stalemate, the Snow Wolf picked up the cracklings in her teeth and dropped them by the human’s feet.
Ji Yingran’s eyebrows rose. Had she realized she’d hurt the human and was returning the food as an apology?
The Snow Wolf retreated to her blanket, flopped down, and began her routine grooming—licking her fur. Every so often, she snuck a glance at the human sitting on the ground.
Ji Yingran tentatively picked up the bowl from the floor. The Snow Wolf’s licking stopped, her eyes gleaming as she watched.
Ji Yingran looked from the bowl in her hand to the bright-eyed wolf and got the idea.
She’d returned the cracklings as an apology for hurting her. Picking them up meant accepting it.
Forgiven, she was thrilled—hence the sparkling eyes.
Of course, the Snow Wolf would never admit it was an apology. Right now, she averted her gaze, face full of haughty indifference.
Ji Yingran stifled a laugh, picked up a piece of crackling, and bit down. Crunch.
The Snow Wolf’s ears twitched at the sound of the human munching cracklings. Her nose twitched, sniffing the greasy aroma in the air.
Gulp.
The wolf swallowing her saliva.
Ji Yingran sneaked a sideways grin.
She ate a few more pieces but soon couldn’t manage any more. It wasn’t a bird-sized appetite—just that cracklings were so rich and oily, a few went a long way.
Eyeing the large half-bowl remaining, she stood, walked to the wolf, squatted down, and set the bowl beside her head.
The Snow Wolf’s head, resting on her paws, snapped up.
She stared unblinkingly at the cracklings next to her.
“Go ahead. I know you didn’t mean to pounce like that or hurt me. I don’t blame you. We’ll split the cracklings like I said—you get the big half, I get the small. I’ve had mine; the rest is yours.”
The Snow Wolf instinctively leaned toward the cracklings but halted halfway.
This slave divvying up food again. Who’s the real Head Wolf? Infuriating. And does she think This Wolf was apologizing just now? Thinks too much, this presumptuous human.
Ji Yingran read the meaning in her eyes and played along. “Got it. You were just apologizing a moment ago, but our Wolfie is the head wolf. Head wolves don’t need to apologize. Eat up, eat up—it’s perfect right now while it’s still hot and crispy. If it cools off, it won’t taste nearly as good.”
The moment she heard that it wouldn’t taste as good once it cooled, the wolf could no longer hold herself back. She plunged her head straight into the bowl.
Ji Yingran watched her with a smile. “Slow down a little. Don’t always be in such a rush.”
Snow Wolf only ate faster. The greasy lard bits disappeared into her mouth in just a couple of bites.
At last, only one piece remained. With a swipe of her paw, she pushed it toward the human.
The human paused. “…”
“You finish it. I already had a few pieces earlier.”
Snow Wolf slammed her paw against the ground: Eat it! The head wolf is allocating food. I am the head wolf!
It was impossible to refuse such insistence. Ji Yingran sensed that if she didn’t eat it, this wolf would get angry again—the sort of wolf who flew into a temper every single day at the drop of a hat.
With no room left for excuses, Ji Yingran picked up that last piece of lard. She hesitated for a long moment, then bit the bullet and tossed it into her mouth.
Under the wolf’s intense stare, she chewed twice and forced it down with some difficulty.
The lard itself had no off taste; it was more a mental hurdle she couldn’t overcome. But who could really stomach food slathered in wolf saliva…?
Satisfied now that the human had eaten it, the wolf let out a pleased huff.
Ji Yingran had noticed that the wolf’s huffs weren’t limited to just disdain or arrogance. She huffed when she was happy, huffed when she was displeased—truly, she was a wolf who loved to huff more than anything.
On top of that, she loved rolling her eyes. Those two habits had become the wolf’s signature moves, popping up every so often without fail.
Once the food was gone, the wolf set about her grooming routine once more: licking her paws clean, then her fur, then washing her face. She was quite busy with it all.
While the wolf was busy, so was the human.
Her little kitchen was a mess and needed tidying up—the bowls, chopsticks, and pots all had to be washed.
But before she started cleaning, she needed to check her hiking backpack and take inventory of its contents.
She would be living here for a while, so she had to plan carefully and make use of everything useful inside.
Another day of scavenging gear—this was already her third backpack.
Unlike cracking open a loot box, though, this one was her own, so she had a rough idea of what was inside.
She unzipped the backpack and dumped everything out in a heap, sorting through it piece by piece.
A set of spare clothes, an emergency thermal blanket, basic first-aid meds, a bundle of rope, a thermos bottle…
A whole jumble of odds and ends.
Ji Yingran took her time counting them out. Suddenly, a thought struck her.
The stuff in the bag wasn’t right. It shouldn’t have been just these things.
She had been trapped in the blizzard, collapsing into the snow just before losing consciousness, when Snow Wolf had been drawn over by the scent of food from the backpack.
The wolf had torn the backpack open and buried her head inside, scattering the contents everywhere.
Ji Yingran still remembered it clearly.
So when Snow Wolf had tracked down and retrieved the backpack, had she also gathered up all the scattered bits and pieces from around the area, stuffed them back inside, zipped it shut, and brought the whole bundle back?
That did seem to be the case—the contents were mostly complete, with hardly anything missing.
Ji Yingran turned to glance at the wolf, who was diligently licking her fur atop the blanket.
A soft laugh escaped Ji Yingran’s lips. This wolf was surprisingly thoughtful, knowing to pick up her scattered belongings and bring them back.
“Wolfie,” Ji Yingran called out to her.
Snow Wolf’s ears twitched, but she neither looked over nor paused in her grooming.
Ji Yingran hurried to her side and squatted down.
“Thank you,” she said, forming a little heart shape with her hands as she did. “Love you~”
Snow Wolf froze mid-lick and lifted her gaze to the human.
“I said I love you,” Ji Yingran repeated with a grin. “Love you, Wolfie.”
Snow Wolf stared at her for a solid two seconds. The woman before her had delicate, clear features and a radiant smile.
Awkwardly, Snow Wolf looked away: What’s so funny about that smile? It isn’t even pretty.
Not up to standard. Rejected.
