Novel & Cerita Veggietales We're Vikings

He looked at her, expecting her to add the punchline, but it wasn’t a joke, Leena was a vegetarian. “No, I’m serious. I don’t eat meat.” She said. “You’re a wolf that doesn’t eat meat. It’s uncommon for a wolf to grow up without knowing their true self, but a wolf that doesn’t eat meat, now that’s just impossible.” He shook his head. “You’re really going to make it hard to fit in with the popular crowd, huh?” He winked at her but just started laughing as he grabbed some bread and popped it into the toaster.

𓎢𓎠𓎟𖦁‎𓎟𓎠𓎡 Okay. I was not sweating. I refused to sweat. Because if I started sweating, the nerves would win and I was not about to let a bunch of heirloom carrots and microgreens intimidate me. This was Velluto Rosso. The Velluto Rosso. Michelin-starred, ultra-fancy, reservation-waitlist-until-you-die Velluto Rosso. On day one. In the vegan section. Which, made my heart do an actual somersault because these were my people. My kale-loving, nut-milk-drinking, tofu-embracing people. I had to get this right.

The other had two milkshakes with gold flakes on top. “What is this?” I asked, eyeing the shake like it might start singing opera. “Vanilla bean with saffron and edible meat,” he said proudly, sliding it toward me. I blinked. “That sounds like it can make me a vegetarian.” Martin laughed. “You’d be surprised how many things in this city are crimes with pretty much fancy names.” “Touché.” He sat across from me and leaned in like he was about to tell me where the bodies were buried.

VEGA I walked into the school environment with my head down. I used the length of my hair to wrap my face so no one would recognise me. "Vega! Where are you rushing off to?" That was Victoria, my twin and nemesis. I walked even faster knowing she would want to embarrass me again just like she always did. Victoria wore her favourite black heels with a very short transparent skirt that exposed her thighs; the top she put on was strapless, exposing her bare shoulders.

I wonder if that has something to do with the Viking influence Silvia has, either way I feel like I need a haircut. My dad offers them his office to have their family meeting, I guess this meeting doesn’t include us. Dinner comes out and everyone else eventually comes in to eat, I notice there is a lot more food than usual, “How come there is so much food tonight, are we expecting more people?” I ask my dad. “No son, traditionally when a Viking royal dies the feast goes on for days, much like a Tangi (Māori funeral) so Silvia has asked if we will continue it here rather than a hotel.” He explains and I nod, guess I should brush up on my Viking history.

The food had a lot of spice and the smells were upsetting her stomach. “Here, you will like this,” Violetta said as she offered a bowl to Izzy. Izzy took it with a smile and took a spoonful of fluffy white vegetables. It looked like mashed potatoes, but it smelled like roasted marshmallows. “That’s called rienut, we sweeten it before we roast it,” Beatrice said, nodding in agreement. “I’ve never heard of rienut before,” Izzy said truthfully. “You wouldn’t. It’s only grown here,” Marchessa said with a snarl.

Because Karina wanted to eat the sandwich, they ended up eating sandwiches as well. "Aren't you going toeat vegetables?" Karina asked curiously, as she noticed the three werewolves eating the sandwich along with the vegetables inside. Arlo and Scarlett exchanged puzzled looks, then looked at Karina. Viggo put down his sandwich and wiped the remaining sauce from his mouth with a tissue. "We can eat vegetables like usual. In fact, we can eat any food. But werewolves tend to prefer meat," Viggo answered. "Oh, I see... But why didn't you eat the french fries earlier?" Karina asked again, remembering that Viggo never ate the french fries on his plate.

My mind swirled with countless questions. “Are you saying Dante mistreats women?” The question tumbled from my lips, eyes glinting with a mix of fear and curiosity, fixed on Pietro like the bright stars above. Pietro regarded me with pity before humming thoughtfully. Taking a step closer, he closed the gap between us. “I’m not sure how to explain this,” Pietro began, capturing my undivided attention. “Dante is a formidable warrior, a businessman, a Viking, a Viking mafia. But there’s one thing he isn’t,” he paused, meeting my inquisitive gaze. “He isn’t affectionate, especially towards women. He sees women as mere objects for men’s pleasure or as toys for their satisfaction, nothing beyond t

shrieked Carrotini, her wild orange braids blazing like fire, as she hurled herself at a shadow-giant and headbutted it in the shin hard enough to make it cry out in demonic soprano. The general blinked. For the first time, visibly confused. “…Vegetables?” “Vegetable warriors,” I corrected, standing as the green glow of the earth surged up my legs, into my chest, filling me with the strength of life itself. “Each one blessed by the Old Grove. And armed with sass, starch, and a taste for vengeance.” Greg held up a spud-sized grenade made of compacted soil and glowing roots. “This baby’s been marinating in worm spit and fairy glitter. Let’s see how you handle that, tin can.”

I asked, looking up at her. "I'd better not; Etta hasn't experienced spicy yet." She picked up a knife and started on the bell pepper, and then the mushrooms. "Ok," I set aside the jalapenos and begin with the onions and potatoes. Harley pops a mushroom slice into her mouth. "So we have cabbage, onions, bell peppers, baby reds, and mushrooms. Can't say I'm not curious." "We were, too, the first time. " I've never known where she got the recipe." I take the veggies over to the sink. "Probably her own creation to get us to eat vegetables, but it stuck."