The dawn of the annual festival began with a vibrant buzz of excitement. Every year, the beastmen held a grand celebration to mark their successful harvests, trades, and alliances. It was a spectacle of culture and pride, and each year, the host village rotated.
This time, it was the Panther Village—Nighthaven. Known for its lithe grace and moonlit elegance, the panthers promised a display that was equal parts mystery and majesty. However, getting there was no small feat. The journey was long, weaving through thick forests and narrow cliff trails, deemed far too dangerous for cubs and females.
Aria awoke to the sounds of bustling excitement—the crinkling of wrapped supplies, the low thrum of male voices, and laughter that vibrated through the walls. Her little ears twitched as her eyes blinked open. Then it hit her.
Festival day!
She shot upright (well, as upright as her tiny body could manage), ears twitching with curiosity.Maybe if I get ready fast enough, they'll take me too. I can be small and sneaky and very quiet… like a tiny shadow. Or a very round squirrel.
Or—wait—what if I hide in a basket? Do panther people like surprise babies? I could be a gift. 'Hello, greetings, I am the surprise fox token of goodwill!
With that wildly impractical plan brewing in her head, Aria wobbled toward Selwyn and tugged at his pants with all the silent desperation of someone seconds from being left behind. Her wide eyes shimmered with unshed tears—part genuine sorrow, part strategic emotional warfare. She couldn't speak yet, but her wobbly lip said everything.
Please? I promise I'll be extra quiet. I'll be your pocket panther. I won't even drool. Much.
Selwyn knelt, gentle but firm. "I'm sorry, little one, but it's too far and too dangerous for you. Only the adult males are going."
Aria blinked up at him.Dangerous? I am fierce. Grrr.She let out a quiet huff, the baby version of a warrior roar.Okay maybe not fierce-fierce, but I can gum a bug to death. That counts, right?
Instead of the permission she so valiantly hoped for, she got scooped up by Liora and smothered in soft kisses.
This is betrayal. Soft betrayal, but betrayal nonetheless.
Her tiny fists balled up, and the tears spilled over. It was a performance worthy of awards. Golden statues. Lifetime achievement recognitions.
One by one, her fathers tried to comfort her. Ursan promised gifts, Rafe booped her nose with his tail, and Jax pulled silly faces. She remained tragically heartbroken throughout it all—hiccuping as if the world had ended and she was the only soul brave enough to mourn it.
Ursan, the bear father, lumbered over with a soft chuckle."We'll bring back lots of stories and maybe even some gifts," he said.
But if I'm not there to pick the gifts, how will you know I want the shiny things, not the itchy ones?
Still, she let out a sigh between sobs, cheeks puffed like tiny mochi buns, as she slowly leaned into Liora's chest.
Eventually, her hiccuppy cries faded, and she rested her head against her mother's shoulder with the heaviness of baby-sized heartbreak. The family shared looks, all secretly promising to bring back half the festival if it meant making their little girl smile again.
...
Preparations continued. Thorne and Kieran packed colorful decorations, Rael and Finn collected food supplies, and the fathers checked and double-checked everything.
Rael zipped between legs in his wolf form, drawing groans and laughter alike."Watch out, Rael," Thorne called. "You don't want to trip someone before the big trip."
Aria watched with narrowed eyes.So he gets to run around and cause chaos, and I can't even go sit politely in a bag?She gave Rael a squinty glare and then pouted harder.I bet he doesn't even care about the fancy lights or the music. Probably just wants to sniff things.
...
When it came time to say goodbye, Aria clung to Selwyn's leg like a particularly persistent barnacle. His sleek pants were now slightly damp from tears and possibly snot.
"Be good, little one," he said, ruffling her snowy hair. "We'll be back so soon, you won't even know we were gone."
I will absolutely know. I'll keep a time log. I'll mark the minutes. You'll be gone forever.
Selwyn kissed Liora goodbye, murmuring promises and warm reassurances. Aria watched with narrowed eyes.
'Must be nice to be tall and allowed to leave the house,' she sulked.
...
Back at the Fox Village, life continued—but Aria's heart was stuck somewhere between dramatic longing and sulky defeat. She imagined the lights, the music, the shiny things. The food. Her mental pictures were so vivid she was pretty sure she could smell roasted meat and flower petals.
I bet they have fire dancers. I bet the food sparkles. I bet panther cubs get to go.
Liora eventually caught on to her unusually pouty silence and decided to stage a mini festival just for her. Decorations were strung, treats baked, and stories shared. Aria tolerated it with the grace of a wronged empress. She was grateful, truly… but also, This is a good festival. But I still want the real one. With music and gifts and people who don't make me nap after cake.
...
Upon arriving at the Panther Village, the adult males were greeted by a vibrant scene. Colorful banners adorned the streets, and the air was filled with the scent of delicious food and the sound of lively music. Villagers, dressed in their best attire, welcomed the newcomers warmly.
The festival's marketplace was bustling with activity. Each village brought their specialties for trading—beautifully crafted goods, unique foods, and other treasures. Bear males were assigned to help set up their stall for they possessed immense strength, rabbit males were assigned to scout other stalls, and wolf males were assigned protection duty, while Selwyn, with his keen eyes, ensured everything was perfectly displayed.
…
The festival featured traditional dances and music from each tribe. The Panther tribe's sleek and agile dance performances were a sight to behold, mesmerizing everyone with their grace and fluidity. The males from Aria's village watched in awe, appreciating the cultural exchange.
Elders from different tribes gathered around a grand bonfire, sharing legends and tales of their people. The males listened intently, soaking up the rich history and traditions.
As night fell, the grand feast began. The air was filled with the aroma of a variety of delicious dishes. The males enjoyed the feast, exchanging stories and laughter with their new friends.
Friendly competitions and games were a highlight of the evening. The playful rivalry and camaraderie among the villagers added to the festive spirit.
...
When the males returned days later, smelling of smoke and spice and something that could only be described as fun, the entire village erupted into delighted chaos. Aria was in the middle of stacking flower petals into a teetering crown when her nose twitched.
That's new. That's not fox-dirt or bunny-sugar or even bear-wood. That's—Festival.
Her ears perked up like tiny antennas. Then she saw him—Selwyn, hair windswept, clothes dusty, eyes twinkling like he'd just been crowned king of cool.
With a triumphant squeal, she barreled toward him with her toddling waddle-of-justice. Her tiny feet slapped against the stone path like war drums as she launched herself with all the grace of a determined squirrel.
Selwyn caught her mid-run, lifting her into the air as she clung to him like a very insistent burr.
He chuckled low and warm. "I missed you, little one."
She smushed her face into his neck, breathing him in. Yes. This. Exactly how festivals should smell. Like fire, spice, mischief, and... goat cheese? No, never mind. Back to the nice smell.
She gave a pitiful whimper, pawing at the edge of his vest. Gone too long. Definitely illegal. New rule: No leaving without proper snuggles. And bribes. Where are my bribes.
Selwyn passed her to Liora with a kiss to her forehead, but not before slipping something silky into her tiny hands—a scarf, soft as clouds, painted in deep purples and inky swirls. Aria squeaked, burying her face into it. This is nice. This is… mine now. It smells like moonlight and secrets.
The others came bearing gifts too: a wooden toy from Ursan that looked like it wanted to both hug and crush things, a shiny bracelet from Rafe that shimmered like trapped starlight, a pouch of crunchy snacks from Jax that she immediately tried to eat all at once (and then cried because she dropped two), and so many pats and cuddles she lost count.
Later that evening, the fire crackled, its embers painting everyone in warm golds and oranges. Aria, freshly snuggled in Liora's lap, curled up in her new scarf like it was a royal cloak. Selwyn sat close, spinning stories with a dramatic flair only a panther could pull off.
She didn't understand every word, but oh—she didn't need to.
His hands moved like dancers, miming leaps and twirls. The firelight caught his smile when he spoke of dancers in silken costumes, their tails flicking with every beat. Of drums that made the ground thrum beneath your paws. Of lanterns rising into the night like glowing stars set free.
Aria's eyes grew wider with each tale, her thumb finding its way to her mouth as her other hand clutched her scarf like it held all the world's magic.
So that's what I missed. Hmph. I could've been the star. They'd have gasped at my ear-wiggle dance. I would've thrown petals like confetti. The lanterns would've carried my wish the highest.
Her little nose wrinkled in pouty betrayal.
Still, as the fire cracked and laughter wrapped around her like a lullaby, Aria let out a soft yawn and curled closer. The scarf smelled like him. The fire sounded like stories. The night tasted like sugar and something she didn't have a name for yet—but liked anyway.
She hadn't gone to the festival. Not really.
But with Selwyn's voice painting worlds in the air, her family close and laughing, and her new scarf tied around her like a victory flag…
She almost felt like she had.
Almost.
But next year?
They'd better start reinforcing the travel wagons. She was coming. And she'd be bringing snacks.
...
Ah, the bittersweet agony of being a baby with a strong will and absolutely no voting rights. Poor Aria—our feisty little fox cub—wanted nothing more than to be part of the action, and instead had to settle for secondhand stories and a scarf that smells like heroism (and possibly goat cheese). 😤🦊
This chapter was a warm one to write. It's a reminder that even when life says "no," love, imagination, and a very dramatic father can sometimes feel almost as good as being there yourself. But let's be honest—Aria's already plotting next year's infiltration plan with the intensity of a fox on a mission. There will be snacks. There will be flower petals. And there will definitely be pouty revenge.
Thank you for reading, and I hope her tiny inner monologue made you smile, maybe even chuckle aloud. If it made you want to scoop her up and smuggle her to the festival yourself—congrats, you're already part of her fan club.
Now that we have reached chapter 10, I am going to shift the update schedule to once a week. It is a bit slow compared to the other books on Webnovel but my chapters are always approx 2K to 3K words, which I think compensates.
Until next time,✨ Stay mischievous, stay soft, and never forget the power of a good scarf.