Taming the Beast World with a Frying Pan-Chapter 169: Must Be a Male

The bear lunged, jaws snapping shut on empty air.

Ren didn’t feel the teeth. Instead, she felt a massive, powerful yank at the back of her neck.

Two giant talons had clamped firmly onto the loose, sodden fabric of her wool dress.

Ren was hoisted into the air like a wet teabag.

"AAAAAHHHHH!"

Ren screamed. Her mother’s Facebook algorithm had just been vindicated. She was dangling helplessly, her limbs flailing over the forest canopy as the dress bunched up uncomfortably around her throat and armpits.

"PUT ME DOWN! I AM NOT FOOD!" Ren shrieked, kicking the empty air as the ground rushed away. "I AM HIGH CHOLESTEROL! YOU DON’T WANT ME! I TASTE LIKE STRESS AND BITTER HERBS!"

The Golden Eagle ignored her frantic shouts. It banked sharply, holding her like a bag of groceries as it navigated the dense forest canopy with terrifying precision despite the pouring rain.

Ren squeezed her eyes shut. She waited for the inevitable drop. She waited to be smashed against a rock.

But there was no smash.

Instead, she was lowered with surprising delicacy onto something soft.

Ren opened one eye.

She was back in the hollow. The same dry, cozy tree hollow she had fled from a little while ago. She was sitting smack in the middle of the mossy nest.

The Golden Eagle released the back of her dress and immediately hopped backward, putting a respectful distance between them.

It ruffled its feathers, sending a spray of rainwater flying everywhere. Then, it waddled to the entrance of the hollow and sat down, spreading its massive wings wide to dry them.

Ren sat there, frozen, her mouth still shaped like a scream.

The bird turned its head. Its silver eyes locked onto her.

It just... stared.

"You..." Ren gasped, her chest heaving. "You saved me?"

The eagle blinked.

Ren looked out the entrance, then back at the bird. She was shivering violently now. The adrenaline was fading, leaving her cold, soaked to the bone, and miserable.

But the nest beneath her was warm. It radiated a dry, earthy heat that was slowly seeping into her frozen legs.

Ren hugged herself, watching the bird warily.

"Um," Ren stammered, her teeth chattering. "Thank you? For the save? And for... uh... the lift?"

The bird didn’t move. It just watched her with an intensity that was unnerving.

’Is it a Beastman?’ Ren wondered, squinting at it. ’Or just a really smart, really big bird?’

Usually, beastmen would shift back or at least say something. But this one was silent.

’It must be a regular beast,’ Ren decided. Though there was nothing regular about this bird.

The silence in the hollow was heavy, filled only by the roar of the rain outside and the occasional drip-drip from the eagle’s wings.

Ren sniffled. Her thoughts drifted to her husbands.

’I hope Kael and Syris are okay,’ she thought, rubbing her cold arms. ’I hope Viper got them to the tree. I hope they are somewhere dry, safe, and not killing each other.’

She shifted, and the wet wool dress scraped against her skin like sandpaper.

"Ugh," Ren groaned.

The dress was unbearable. It was heavy, sodden, and smelling strongly of wet sheep. It was clinging to her like a second, very itchy skin.

Ren looked at the bird.

"Hey," she called out softly. "I know you probably don’t understand English, or whatever language I’m speaking right now... but do you mind if I get naked?"

The eagle blinked.

"I mean," Ren gestured to the dress. "It’s wet. It’s ruining your nice nest. I don’t want to be rude."

The eagle blinked again.

"I’ll take that as a ’Go ahead, strange person’," Ren muttered.

She grabbed the hem of the shapeless sack and hauled it up. It stuck to her skin, fighting her every inch of the way, but finally, she peeled it off and tossed it into the corner of the hollow.

"Oh, sweet relief," Ren sighed.

She looked down at her body. Her skin was covered in angry red blotches where the raw wool had irritated it. She looked like she had wrestled a cactus.

Ren rubbed at a particularly itchy spot on her arm.

Then, she felt it. The weight of a gaze.

She looked up.

The Golden Eagle hadn’t looked away. In fact, its gaze had lowered. It was staring directly at her chest.

Her breasts were glistening with moisture from the rain, the skin slightly flushed pink from the cold and the irritation of the fabric.

The bird’s pupils seemed to dilate.

Ren immediately crossed her arms over her chest.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, her face heating up. "Eyes up here, feathers!"

She hummed, narrowing her eyes at the majestic creature.

"Well," Ren deadpanned. "I guess that answers that other question I had. You are definitely a male bird."

The eagle quickly looked back up to her face, shuffling its wings awkwardly as if pretending it had been looking at the wall behind her.

Ren shook her head and turned her attention to her leg.

"Ouch," she hissed as she touched her ankle.

It was already swelling, puffing up like a balloon. It throbbed with a dull, hot rhythm.

She rotated it slightly. It hurt like hell, but it moved.

’Not broken,’ Ren realized, releasing a quiet breath of relief. ’Just a bad sprain. If I can find a sturdy stick, I can limp my way back to the tree once the rain stops.’

She stared at the purple bruising forming on her skin. A devious thought crossed her mind.

’Actually... this is good,’ Ren thought, a small, pained smile touching her lips. ’A blessing in disguise. A painful, throbbing blessing.’

If she hobbled back to Kael and Syris injured... if she looked pathetic and hurt... their protective instincts would override their aggression. They wouldn’t fight each other if they were too busy fussing over her. She could milk this injury for all it was worth.

’Phase One of Operation Bromance: The Damsel in Distress,’ Ren plotted.

Suddenly, movement caught her eye.

Ren flinched.

The Golden Eagle had stood up. It folded its massive wings and began to walk toward her.

Ren froze where she sat. Her heart started hammering in her chest again.

’What is he doing?’ Ren panicked. ’Did I offend him? Is he mad I called him a pervert?’

She didn’t dare move an inch. The bird was massive up close. Its beak looked sharp enough to snap her finger off.

It got extremely close.

The eagle had lowered its majestic head. It was looking closely at her swollen, bruised ankle.

Ren’s breath hitched in her throat.

The bird blinked slowly. Its silver eyes shimmered with a strange, sorrowful light.

Then, a single, crystal-clear tear pooled in the corner of its eye. It rolled down the golden feathers of its face and fell.

Plip.

The tear landed directly on the center of her swollen ankle.