Chapter 68: I don’t want to say it… but if you step out of this hut… you might not survive

Chapter 68: Chapter 68: I don’t want to say it... but if you step out of this hut... you might not survive "Hmm, what should I name you?" Isabella mused, holding up the tiny, fluffy creature. It blinked up at her, eyes round and trusting. She tilted her head. "You’re way too cute to be this fearless. Weren’t you scared at all? Or did my beauty just hypnotize you?" The creature chirped. "I’ll take that as agreement." She tapped her chin. "Alright, let’s name you! How about... Pudding?" The creature immediately wiggled in protest. "No? Okay, fine. What about Snowball?" Another unhappy chirp. "Tch. You’re so picky. Alright, something cool then—Blade. Imagine it. ’Fear me, for I am Blade.’" It stared at her, unimpressed. "Ugh, tough crowd. Okay, what about Supreme Ruler Fluffington the Third?" The creature violently shook its tiny head. Isabella sighed dramatically. "At this point, you should just name yourself." The little thing let out a soft, happy chirp that sounded vaguely like... "Glimora." She blinked. "Glimora? That’s what you want?" It nodded, snuggling into her hands. She scoffed. "So you reject all my excellent names but accept this one instantly? Whatever, Glimora it is." She smirked at the camera. (Not that there was one, but whatever.) "Speaking of Glimora, that’s my Instagram’s user name but with double l. So it’s "Gllimora". Go follow me. Maybe I’ll forgive this little traitor for rejecting ’Supreme Ruler Fluffington.’" By the time Isabella reached her small hut, the sky was still dim, the early morning air crisp. She moved quickly, taking a familiar shortcut. On the way, she plucked a few useful herbs and spices, stuffing them into her space storage. No way she was carrying all that like some caveman. When she finally arrived, she pushed aside the fur curtain at the entrance. "Ophelia?" Silence. She frowned. "Ophelia, if you’re playing dead, I swear—" Still nothing. The hut was empty. She hesitated, then shook her head. Not her problem. Ophelia could handle herself. Probably. With that, she grabbed a clean set of fur clothing and headed to the river behind her hut. The cold water made her shiver, but after climbing that ridiculous mountain, it was a relief. She scrubbed off the grime, then changed into fresh clothes before heading back inside. Settling onto her makeshift bedding—just layers of animal hide on the floor because luxury didn’t exist here—she pulled out some fruit she had gathered earlier. Glimora, the little fluffy creature she had somehow ended up with, perked up. She smirked. "What, you think I forgot about you?" She handed over a piece, watching as Glimora nibbled on it happily. Ding! A notification popped up in her vision. [Congratulations! You have unlocked the Beast Taming stat. +10 Beast Taming Points!] Isabella froze. "...What?" She blinked at the message. Beast Taming? Since when? Her mind immediately went back to yesterday when she had tossed Glimora some deer meat. But back then, nothing popped up. Her eyes narrowed. "Bubu. Explain. Now." A soft chime sounded. [Host and Glimora weren’t bonded at the time. Feeding a random animal doesn’t count as taming. But now, since Glimora sees you as its caretaker, the system recognizes the bond.] She processed that. "So what you’re saying is... back then, I was just some random lady handing out free food, and now I’m its official babysitter?" [Correct.] She groaned. "Great. Just what I needed." She glanced at Glimora, who was still happily munching away, completely unbothered. "Alright, Bubu, how do I get more points? Do I need to worship it? Brush its fur daily? Offer sacrifices?" [Points increase as the bond strengthens. Training, feeding, and protecting them earns you points.] She clicked her tongue. "So... pet care?" [Essentially.] Isabella sighed. "I was hoping I could just throw food at it and be done." Glimora finished its fruit and curled up in her lap, snuggling against her. She narrowed her eyes. "Oh, you are definitely spoiled already." Glimora just purred. Isabella groaned. This thing was going to be a handful. --- Another, shameless plug—go follow the Instagram @gllimora! Isabella sat cross-legged on her animal hide bedding, tapping her perfectly manicured (imaginary) nails against her knee. In less than three days, she would fall dangerously ill—a prophecy she wished her perfect self could avoid, but she was certain of it. She wasn’t built for suffering. Obviously, the girls needed to learn how to make soup before that happened. Because what if she died from the cold? What if they abandoned her in her hut, shivering and tragic, with no one to even bring her a bowl of warm, comforting soup? Unacceptable. But first—Ophelia. Isabella’s brows furrowed. Where was that girl? She hadn’t seen her since yesterday. Not her going missing the second Isabella needed her. With a sigh, she flicked her hair over her shoulder and stood up, her decision made. She would head to the palace. Before leaving, her gaze landed on Glimora, the adorable yet slightly clueless fluffball watching her with big, trusting eyes. She frowned. This little thing was way too fearless. If she wasn’t careful, Glimora would waddle straight into danger. Isabella knelt beside her and whispered in a dark, serious voice, "Listen to me, Glimora. Outside is full of terrible creatures. Huge, monstrous things with teeth so sharp they can bite through bone. And you? You are just a tiny, precious snack to them." Glimora’s ears twitched, and her little body visibly trembled. Isabella sighed dramatically. "I don’t want to say it... but if you step out of this hut... you might not survive." Glimora’s round, elegant eyes widened in absolute terror. Isabella patted her head. "Good. Stay hidden, okay?" Satisfied, she stood up, flicked the fur curtain aside, and walked out without another glance. Behind her, Glimora remained frozen in place. The poor little creature bowed its head, trembling. Her owner had just abandoned her... Did she not love her anymore? The hut grew silent. Then—light suddenly spilled back into the space. Glimora lifted her head in panic, expecting some horrible monster— Only to see Isabella standing there again, arms outstretched, smug as ever. "Oh my God, why are you sitting there all sad? Come here." For a split second, Glimora just stared. Then, like a little bullet, she launched herself into Isabella’s arms, snuggling against her chest. Isabella let out a dramatic sigh, stroking Glimora’s fur. "I was gonna leave you, but, ugh—I can’t handle you looking this pitiful." {+ 13 beast taming points} Isabella looked at the notification. Thank god, she decided to come back for her. She flipped her hair and walked out again, this time with Glimora comfortably cradled in her arms. If the villagers had a problem with her carrying a tiny, fluffy creature like she was royalty, that was their problem. Besides, she was better than them. If they wanted to gossip, they should. It’s not like their peasant opinions mattered. As she made her way toward the village, she wondered how the well construction was going. Probably terribly. She hadn’t even gone far when she spotted a familiar figure waddling toward her. Ophelia. Her face was red, her chubby cheeks tear-streaked, her entire being radiating ’I’ve been crying for hours.’ Isabella blinked. "Oh, wow. What happened to you?"