The Ugly Duckling Of The Tiger Tribe-Chapter 323: What if we could adopt farming more actively?

By the time the sun was high in the sky, casting short, intense shadows, the ’Nursery Palace’ was finally ready.

Talia was the first to arrive. She wasn’t alone. Behind her was a sea of fluffy ears and small, eager faces. Hm, they looked more than before. Were the pups I saw before not all of them?

It wasn’t just twenty-four children anymore, so I guess wolf biology meant some of those mothers had twins and triplets, just like I gave birth to triplets. Then, I saw one startled-looking female who was holding onto the tunics of three identical triplets.

The crowd of nearly forty pups stood at the edge of the meadow, their tails wagging so hard the grass seemed to ripple.

"Is... is that for us?" Kael asked, his voice a tiny whisper of awe as he stared at the spiraling log slide and the massive rope bridges.

I looked at Noah. He was standing near the entrance, his chest bare and marked with the dust of the morning’s labor. He looked terrifyingly regal, but when his gaze landed on the crowd of children—his children—I saw him swallow hard.

"It is," I said, stepping forward so the mothers could see me. "It belongs to the pack. All of you."

I didn’t give a long, royal speech. I didn’t need to. I simply walked over to the main gate and slid the latch back.

"Go on then," I smiled. "See if the Great Hunter was right about the ropes."

The silence lasted for exactly one heartbeat. Then, the meadow erupted. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

It was a tidal wave of fur and high-pitched yaps. The children didn’t care about politics or bitterness; they cared about the fact that there was a giant wooden castle in the middle of their village. Within minutes, the rope bridges were swaying under the weight of a dozen laughing pups, and the log slide was a blur of silver and brown fur as the triplets took turns shooting down into the soft sand pit at the bottom.

The mothers stood in a ragged line at the perimeter. Some were crying silently; others were staring at Noah, who was currently being swarmed by five toddlers demanding to know how to get to the "high tower."

"You did it," Talia murmured, coming to stand beside me. She wasn’t sneering. She looked... relieved. "They’re playing together. Look at them, Arinya."

The fact that she’s no longer calling me ’Tiger’ says a lot, honestly.

"They aren’t fighting, and they’re just... being pups."

I looked at the softness in her eyes, something I didn’t even think that vicious Talia from the start could make.

"That was the point, Talia," I said, watching as Noah awkwardly patted the head of a small girl who had tripped near the swings. He looked completely out of his element, but he wasn’t running away, and he was even learning her name. "Family,"

I felt a surge of triumph so strong it made my knees weak. The ’Committee’ was finally distracted, the kids were safe, and the kingdom felt a little less like a powder keg.

But as I scanned the happy chaos, my gaze landed on the unused land stretching out toward the horizon—vast, fertile, and currently empty. My mind, never one to stay quiet for long, began to churn. The wolves, hyenas, and bears are here. It looks like a kingdom for carnivores and predators, but the sheep are here as well. I feel the West Way can become so much more. It was a bold thought, but the thought of civilization and proper cohabitation hit me like a rock. We need a proper foundation.

"We have the builders," I whispered to myself, watching the bear-men talk with the wolf-mothers. "We have the land. Now, we just need proper farmers."

The thought took root in my mind like a seed finding water. I remembered the scent of those dark, rich burrows back in the Mouseling territory—the way the earth above their heads was so fertile and the way the golden grain swayed, thick and heavy under the sunset.

I recalled the way the Rabbits had said they could work with grain if they could, and I told them to plan most of the grains they were taking back so they wouldn’t be in danger with the mouseling.

You know, since we cause quite the ’trouble’, haha.

The rabbits knew roots and planting vegetables, just like the sheep, and could plant grain as well, but they constantly lived in fear that a passing predator might invade them, like the stone martins did, even with the reinforced fence I had them build.

Here, we had enough land and the claws to protect it, but the beast folks here were still living off hunting. It was a mismatch that made my head spin with endless possibilities.

What if we could adopt farming more actively?

I leaned against the new wooden railing of the Nursery Palace, watching a pair of beaver-beastmen—Oryn’s specialized team—meticulously checking the joints of the spiral slide. They were incredible with detail, their flat tails patting down the sand in the pits, but as I’d seen yesterday, even their legendary work ethic couldn’t move the massive oak pillars Noah had hauled.

"Oryn," I called out, beckoning the bear-man over. He stepped away from a group of wolf-mothers who were actually—miracle of miracles—thanking him.

"Yes, Queen?" he asked, his deep voice rumbling.

"The land to the south, beyond the new perimeter," I said, pointing toward the vast, rolling plains that bled into the forest. "It’s good soil, isn’t it? If we cleared the bush?"

Oryn squinted at the horizon, his small ears twitching. "It is rich. Deep black earth. But we are hunters, Queen. We take what the forest gives. We do not... poke at the ground as the sheep tribe does."

It’s known that the sheep tribe eats... ’grass’... and plants those same grass on the floor to grow more. They couldn’t understand it, but what do you expect from a bunch of predators?

"Maybe we should start," I murmured.