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It’s that time of the grand-cycle, where the days linger and shine brighter, night is nothing more than a few hums long, and fauna blossoms. The bright sun makes it so easy to run around or lay down just because you can, and all that can disturb you is the occasional Lizard straying too close to The Tree.
With all the blossoming, it’s the ideal conditions for Gourmand to hold the annual Potluck—in fact, it was happening this cycle.
Gourmand had made two cauldrons out of ridiculous amounts of clay—they had to excavate an entire lake to produce the two cauldrons due to their size and weight being the equivalent of Gourmand.
The Slugpups enjoyed hiding inside them like it was a massive cave, and hearing their giggling echo inside only to witness Gourmand pick them up by the scruff was a marvelous sight for all the parents.
But that’s not the only thing Spearmaster watches it for. Oftentimes they find their eyes trailing off to Gourmand and nothing else.
Spearmaster was never a tall one—they are the shortest of the adult Slugcats, even shorter than Survivor despite being on the older side. It might be envy of Gourmand’s build, or something else.
They remember arriving for the first time at The Tree, Gourmand was the one to welcome them with open arms to a relatively small colony. They had been around before Artificer, Hunter, Rivulet and Saint joined.
Spearmaster had a high amount of appreciation towards Gourmand—everything was so lovable about them, from their voice, leadership and kindness. They were sitting on a small root admiring Gourmand from a distance, far enough you couldn’t exactly tell what they were looking at but close enough to see Gourmand’s face. The times Gourmand sat so close to them, wrapping an arm around them always made their heart skip a beat-
Spearmaster’s train of thought had been interrupted by something sticky gripping their scruff, and it dragged them backwards.
Despite the lack of a mouth, there still are vocal cords and a bit of mouth movement that allowed them to speak, at the cost of it being at the volume of a whisper. That included the attempt at a scream they had just done, which sounded more like a whistle.
“Cat got your tongue?” A monotone and breezy voice questioned. It was no doubt Saint playing their odd games.
“Please let go of me.”
“As you wish.” The tongue pulled away from Spearmaster, making them fall backwards to the ground.
Saint leaned into their vision. “You’ve been eyeing Gourmand a lot.”
“And?”
“Is there any reason why?”
“Yes.”
“What would it be?”
Spearmaster steepled their paws. They were reluctant to share the reason due to not finding a way to vocalize their thoughts.
“Well… I admire them a lot. Not in any weird way, they have accomplished so much.”
“Go on. I won’t judge.” Saint said as they sat down next to Spearmaster.
Spearmaster lifted their back off the ground and readjusted their sitting position. “I’m not even sure anymore.”
“What are you sure of?”
Spearmaster rested a paw on their chin. “I know that… they’re so kind, and strong and… oh my I’m getting carried away, aren’t I?”
“And how does that make you feel?”
Spearmaster’s eyes darted all around, from Gourmand, to Saint, to a random tree root; It had them utterly lost like their first delivery. Even their paws tucked themselves close to their chest.
Spearmaster stared at Saint with squinted eyes. “What’s with your questions?”
“I’m curious about what’s making you so confused and uncollected.”
“Why?”
“Because I appreciate you and I want to help.”
Spearmaster recoiled. “Wait, you like me?”
Saint nodded. “Of course I do.”
Now Spearmaster’s head spun like a White Lizard—there was so much to take it all at once.
Spears scratched the back of their head. “Want to get some potluck soup together and discuss it after? I need a breather.”
“Sure.”
Both Slugcats stood in front of the vegetarian pot, it bubbled with an intense earthly aroma. Blue fruit, Gooieducks, and Dandelion Peaches were visible at the top of the soup. Bits of dissolved Eggbug Eggs stained the broth a cyan color.
They eagerly waited for Gourmand to pour some soup into their bowls.
Gourmand finally turned towards the two with the ladle in hand.
“Are you two ready for your serving?” Gourmand asked, scooping out fresh soup.
The duo nodded in unison and presented the bowls, outstretching their arms.
“Here you go, enjoy the potluck!” Gourmand said, reaching their free paw out to headpat both Slugcats in quick succession.
It took every nerve in Spearmaster’s mind to act normal about what they experienced. It was a few steps and sitting down before the scale of what happened hit them. Their body quivered to a degree they had only ever felt when cornered by a Red Lizard.
“So, how’s the feelings?”
Spearmaster placed both paws on their forehead. “I still don’t understand-they do that to everyone, right?”
“Gourmand is a naturally affectionate one,” Saint confirmed.
“My mind can not brush off what they did. How are you acting so nonchalant about it?”
Saint shrugged. “It’s a part of Gourmand I have grown used to.”
“How? It felt so divine.”
“You mentioned that you look up to Gourmand.”
Spearmaster’s ears flattened. “Is that related?”
“Yes, of course. Are you getting what I’m setting down?” Saint
The puzzle pieces in Spearmaster’s mind were connecting. It looked like they were short circuiting from processing whatever was in their mind.
“Not really…?”
Saint planted a palm on their face. “I’m saying that you most likely have romantic feelings for Gourmand.”
So that’s what that odd focus and desire around Gourmand was.
“I thought I was idolizing them like my creator, but I suppose it felt different.”
“I could be wrong, that could very much be the case. It’s up to you when it comes to how you feel.” Saint added.
“Maybe you’re right about it. Now what?”
Saint glanced at Gourmand. They were sitting down with Artificer, most likely discussing the potluck ingredients.
“You could ask Gourmand out.”
Spears jolted at the suggestion. “No way. They are out of my league.”
“Listen, even if you think that the worst thing they will ever say is no.”
“what if they say no?”
“And what if they say yes? Just brace yourself in case they say no. Stay casual and not too confident, and be respectful if they say no.”
Spearmaster shook their head. “I am not sure about anything at all.”
“Sorry if I’m being pushy, but please, it’s quite obvious you have a crush on Gourmand, and it’s likely they reciprocate.”
“How are you sure of that?”
“They sit down close to you when you knit, their tail wags whenever they get close to you, and they find any excuse to get close to you.”
Spearmaster’s eyes widened. “Wait, they do?”
“Yes, it’s painfully obvious how interested they are.”
Spearmaster sat up and placed their bowl down. “If you insist.”
Spearmaster peeked over at Gourmand, and noticed they had gotten up as well—They cannot miss their one shot with Gourmand, it was the perfect day to do so.
They approached Gourmand, and surprisingly enough, Gourmand walked over to them as well.
“So there’s-” Both Slugcats stated in unison before sharing a surprised expression.
“Oh, apologies, Spears, “Gourmand apologized, “You can go first.”
“Uh, I was… wondering if… you are interested in… dating…?” Great, they had hesitated far too much in that confession, no way-
“Yes! Of course!” Gourmand exclaimed, bringing Spearmaster into a bear hug.
Not even a whistle of surprise escaped them, their face was buried into Gourmand’s chest. The difference in scale and build was on full display, Gourmand is the tallest and strongest without a doubt. Spearmaster on the other hand, was the shortest adult Slugcat of the colony by a noticeable margin—sometimes they had been mistaken for a Slugpup.
Gourmand set Spearmaster down, not without peeking at Spears' wagging tail.
“Y’know, I was getting quite nervous about you not reciprocating, but Arti over there had told me to just confess already.” They said, pointing with their thumb at Artificer.
“That is odd, Saint did something similar with me.”
Gourmand chuckled. “Now that’s just sweet. They both knew we were perfect for each other.”
Spearmaster leaned themself onto Gourmand. “Can we… rest together?”
“Yes, of course, Spearsie.” Gourmand whispered into their ear.
That got a shiver to crawl up their spine. “Let’s get going.” They offered a paw out for Gourmand to hold, and they accepted, holding it with care. The gentle touch guided them towards a hut carved into the roots of The Tree, a kitchen adorned with crude cutlery and cutting boards that have seen extensive use were hung on the wall. A table with two hand crafted chairs tucked in stood ready for use.
The grand destination was the sleeping chambers. A lantern pierced by a spear stood from the ground, covering the room in an orange glow, it was gentle on the eyes even up close. In the center, piles of cloth and burlap wove together to form the ultimate resting ground.
Gourmand splatted themself onto the pile with a thud. “C’mon.”
Spearmaster had no restraint—they had planted their face onto Gourmand’s belly. Nothing was better than this, the bulk was cushioning and endlessly squishable. Those arms were larger than Spearmaster yet they held them with such precision and tenderness, being just light enough to not squeeze the life out of them.
Sleep wasn’t an option for Spearmaster, but this was just as cozy, if not better. No sleep means they can admire Gourmand more and feel every moment of it.