The Ugly Duckling Of The Tiger Tribe-Chapter 285: You’ll be toastier than a marshmallow

"You’ve already lost your homes. You’ve already been driven from your fields and nearly degraded to slaves, and livestock. Now we’re asking you to give up the very thing that keeps you warm."

I let that sit for a second and then continued.

"You might think we’re being too much, but this," I said, lifting my chin, "...isn’t about comfort."

The wind moved through the valley, brushing past us and carrying my hair. Even nature was on my side, coming in with its dramatic effect.

"The mer folks have been poisoned, and the poison keeps sinking. It’s drifting down into the deep where the merfolk live, and it has already put them all to sleep. They are in danger."

A murmur rippled through the flock, fear and panic spreading over their faces.

I tightened my hands slightly on Fenric’s shoulder to steady myself.

"You said it yourself. You’ve been in a symbiotic relationship with the mer folks."

Okay, so maybe symbiotic was a big word for them.

"They’ve probably warned you when storms were coming before the clouds even reached the sky, so you wouldn’t get your precious wool wet. They’ve driven predators away from your village with some method I don’t know about, and they’ve played with you, giving you only the privilege of listening to their melody." My voice softened. "They’ve protected you."

Robin nodded slowly.

The sheep had gone silent, looking at me with an adoring gaze as they remembered all that the mer folks had done for them, all the time they spent together, and how they had been able to last for so long in the territory of predators because of them. This wasn’t the time to be worrying about the wool on their back.

"Now," I said more quietly, "...for the first time, they’re the ones who can’t protect themselves." the Realization fell heavily on them. "They are suffocating in their own home, and we can’t even dive down to save them," I said. "But your wool can sink. It can drag the poison into itself before it spreads through the coral beds and the kelp forests."

One sheep near the front spoke softly, "You’re saying... we can help them?"

"Yes," I answered without hesitation. "You can."

Another lifted her head. "We can be the ones to shield them?"

A warmth spread through my chest.

"Yes."

The atmosphere changed, and what started as an anxious retreat became a full-blown rescue mission, with a flock of sheep that were prepared to go bald for the sake of their fish friends.

At the corner, Noah watched me with the cubs in his hand. He looked proud, looked like he had once again come across a rare treasure, and this made him believe that he had definitely found the perfect queen.

Welp. I didn’t know I was that good at this. Was I born to be a leader or what?

Apparently.

So, we came to a conclusion and decided to head back. To Garrow’s men who were standing guard, it probably looked like we were retreating in a panic, but they had no idea that we were going to make a big wave.

The journey back to the shore was much slower this time. I was no longer being carried by Damar; I walked among the flock to keep their spirits up. And every time a lamb looked at me with those wide, glassy eyes, I’d give them a little pat on the head.

"Don’t worry," I whispered to one who was shivering slightly as the evening chill began to set in. "Once we’re done, we’ll build the biggest fire you’ve ever seen. You’ll be toastier than a marshmallow."

I didn’t actually know if they knew what a marshmallow was, but the tone seemed to work.

When we finally reached the Singing Stone, the sight was still just as eerie. The whirlpool Damar had created had already subsided, leaving the water churning, but that oily brown film was already trying to creep back into the cove, like a persistent stain.

Jael was still there, leaning against the overhang, his gills twitching as he watched his home with regretful eyes. He must be worried.

"We’re here, Jael!" I called out, jumping down onto the flat rock.

The merman’s eyes went wide as he saw the sea of white wool approaching the shore. He looked at me, then at the hundreds of sheep, and for a moment, he looked like he might cry, if fish-people can even do that.

"The... the soft ones," Jael rasped, his voice full of awe. "They all came?"

"Every single one of them," I said, turning to Robin. "Okay, Chief. We need those coats off, and after that, Jael will take them into the narrow cave openings where the mer folks are sleeping."

The scene that followed was the most organized chaos I’d ever seen. Noah and Fenric didn’t just stand around while the sheep were shaving their backs; they joined in to help as well.

Fenric used his skining knives and became a professional shearer, shaving the sheep like he’s always been in the game. Noah was right beside him, his movements fast, and his eyes occasionally darting to me with that same ’proud husband’ look that made my heart do a little skip.

As the piles of wool grew, the air began to smell like lanolin and salt.

’Okay, Arinya, focus,’ I told myself. ’Posture up and stay sharp.’ I felt the weight of the cubs in their basket on my hip—Noah had handed them back to me so he could work. He even added a strap for my convenience.

The strap was digging into my shoulder, and I shifted my stance, trying to ease the pressure.

My legs felt a bit heavy from the walk, the sand still gritting inside my boots, but I couldn’t stop now.

Even when Damar insisted on carrying me, I shook my head. If the sheep could trek the distance, then who was I?

Besides, he didn’t look too good. He was still greatly pale, so I asked him to take the stuff he used to cure Jael back then, just in case it turned out to be an effect of the sleeping root.

He agreed and so that was it. His complexion should be coming up any time now.

"Just sit for a bit and don’t do anything else," I said to him and he grumbled, but he sat down, coiling his tail around his body.

Just so he wouldn’t have anything to do, I handed him the basket of cubs. They wanted to play, and were slowly becoming restless so being with Damar would be safe.

They could use his tail as a slide for all I cared. As long as they didn’t go into the water.

I huffed and then turned around to look at the sheep.

One by one, they stepped away from the ’barbershop,’ looking much skinnier and having a lot more pink to show. Just rub a little oil on that pink, and I’m sure I’ll be able to see my reflection perfectly.

Though they looked vulnerable, when they looked at the water, their eyes weren’t full of fear but a firm determination to help their friends, knowing their wool would go a long way.