Loutou was on a mission—no, not a dangerous, world-saving mission like the ones in the tales of legendary cultivators ,or even a mission like the ones offered by the elders. This was a far more important quest: bonding with Foxy.
"Come here, Foxy," Loutou coaxed, holding out a piece of jerky he'd swiped from the kitchen. "Don't you want to be best friends and get all the treats and pets??"
Foxy, the little ice fox with the big attitude, stared at the jerky, then at Loutou, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. She sniffed the air cautiously before letting out a huff that seemed to say, Is that all you've got?
Loutou sighed. This was going to be harder than he thought. "Alright, alright, how about this?" He produced a shiny, red ball from his pocket, the kind he had seen other animals go crazy over though personally he didnt get the appeal.
Foxy's ears twitched as she watched Loutou roll the ball across the floor. It bounced once, then twice, before wobbling to a stop. Foxy tilted her head, giving Loutou a look that clearly communicated her thoughts: You think I'm some common pet? She yawned dramatically, curling up in the corner as if to say, Try harder, llama.
"Fine, fine," Loutou muttered, retreating to his last resort. "You're going to love this." He pulled out a small brush, the kind that made Foxy purr contentedly whenever he managed to use it right. "Come here, girl. Let's have some quality time."
Foxy's eyes flicked to the brush, then back to Loutou. For a moment, it seemed like she was considering it. But just as Loutou thought he'd won, Foxy darted forward—not to him, but to the brush, snatching it from his hand with surprising speed. Before Loutou could react, she was off, darting around the room with her prize, tail wagging triumphantly.
"Hey! Come back here with that!" Loutou chased after her, stumbling over cushions and nearly knocking over a lamp in his pursuit. Foxy dashed under the bed, popping out on the other side, brush still firmly in her jaws. Loutou made a desperate lunge, but Foxy was too quick, weaving through his legs and sending him crashing to the floor.
Groaning, Loutou looked up to see Foxy perched on his chest, brush in mouth, and a glint of victory in her eyes. She dropped the brush just out of his reach and let out a yip that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.
"Okay, okay, you win," Loutou conceded, slumping back in defeat. "You're the boss."
Foxy gave a satisfied flick of her tail and curled up beside him, finally allowing Loutou to give her a few gentle strokes. It wasn't exactly the bonding moment he had envisioned, but it was progress. Sort of.
As he lay there, half-heartedly patting Foxy, Loutou remembered something. He reached into his robes and pulled out a note that had arrived earlier that day. He had been too busy trying to bond with Foxy to read it.
Unfolding the paper, Loutou's eyes scanned the message. His face fell. "The tournament… it's delayed again?" He squinted at the tiny print. "Six more months?!"
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"
Foxy, sensing his distress, looked up with an inquisitive tilt of her head. Loutou just groaned and crumpled the note, tossing it aside.
"At this rate, I'll be an old man by the time it happens," he muttered, glaring at the ceiling.
Foxy snuggled closer, her tail draped over his arm. Maybe she was warming up to him after all. Or maybe she just liked seeing him suffer.
"Great," Loutou sighed, staring at the brush just out of his reach. "Six more months of this."
Foxy gave a contented yawn, as if to say, You'll survive.
