Quatre

"I'm scared to death"

  His heart popped almost out of his chest. He wanted it. And now? Would he reject this and mock Lambz' effort? That would be a slap in the latter's face.

    The jolting jaw of the seemed to be taunted or felon tiger traced a repining surge through his capillaries, squashing his courage, cowardice dripping till an ocean drown his acumen. He sure should make a decision. He had no choice. He didn't, actually. And he needed it ASAP. Worn brain bracing bounty dread.

     "What do you say?"

  

       Lambz was becoming to be impatient. Patience was spent, bankruptcy gnawled at him as impatience drooled, lurching determinedly towards the lanky wildlifer. He needed to be somewhere else at the moment, but the rich estate manager had tied him to a damped duty.

    " I sure like it/him/her"

      He wasn't sure if he was being veracious. All the bruised brain tossed was ' you got this!' Sometimes, one makes a decision, and at realization of its implication, one begins to doubt the conception of such. He couldn't be sure if he was doubting, but he knew that he wasn't ready for this. But an eerie ego seeped in felony braced his doubts with guts and made men of the twin.

    "I love him."

      That Lambz said this was kinda a saver. He wouldn't be sure how he would feel, if he was the only one in this. But Lambz had refuted the idea of breeding a tiger when he told him. Why loving this demon from hell in the shadow of some punctured panthers?

      "I won't sell him. I do love this tiger. There's this charm that accompanied its incursion into our world. I could feel when I took him home. I'll loan him to you, and I'll agree with you on times I would come and check on his ass."

       He smirked. Watching Pomsy draw an inference on the thesis he'd outlined. All he needed to do was to be blunt. And he'd achieved exactly that. The estate manager wasn't surprised. Or to say, he didn't seem surprised. He complemented Lambz' cheek as his mimicked same spell.

       "How much for lease?"

       "Ten thousand dols!"

   " Fine. Two days for the checks."

        "Fine."

     

     "Tell me about his feeding."

     " Feed him on milk more than Joey or beef. When he's briefly ill 'cos he's bound be. He's just changing his environment and will be eating new delicacies his body system is a stranger to. When there's a shift in his health status, feed him on grass as first and don't go near him."

      Those rules were fiery. Just like the jumpy jaw of the demon. He had something to say, but didn't know how to word it. He was still nursing the idea when Lambz eased himself at a call from another client.

      He was left with the dark demon opposite him. He saw the jaw parted as four funky incisors peered at him freaking his sanity out. He moved closer and attempted to touch the head of the demon as it leapt in fury at him but the corrugated iron cage belittled its strength.

      Pomsy almost passed out.

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