บท 112: The Soap of Love

Fanfar leaned against the wall, a towel wrapped around his waist, holding a knife, and waiting for the door to open. On the other side, Kim stood poised, claws out and ready to attack.

He made a strange chattering noise with his jaw.

Chattering!

Fanfar looked at him and signaled him to stop.

But Kim continued.

Chirping!

Fanfar whispered, "What do you think you're doing?"

"Preparing my jaw," Kim replied.

"What?"

"For the hunt."

"Oh, ok."

Then Kim yawned and stretched.

"Now what are you doing?" Fanfar asked.

"I'm going to sleep."

"Wait! What!?"

Kim slowly turned back toward the room, leaped onto the bed, and was asleep as soon as he landed.

Fanfar stayed by the door, ear pressed against it and knife in hand. As the sound of footsteps faded away, Kim's snores echoed through the room.

"Oh, thank goodness, Vena gave up," he thought, lowering the knife.