Eric froze for a few seconds.
"Huh, wait a minute... This plot... it feels so familiar, doesn't it?" He raised his paws to scratch his head in confusion, and then his brain went "ding!"
Max and Michael? Weren't those the names of the main top and bottom couple in the beastman novel he was in the middle of reading?
In that case, the body he was in right now was... the cannon fodder character who specialized in causing trouble, a brain-dead villain who never stopped creating bad karma for the young couple on their path to love. And the result? He was kicked out by the entire tribe, eventually starving and freezing to death, his corpse not even left in one piece.
"Well," Eric muttered. "To transmigrate right into a role with a pre-destined ending of being wiped out. Just fantastic."
He was so anxious he began pacing in circles on the spot.
Seeing his older brother suddenly burst into a hyperactive fit, the little lion cub grew frightened. He flattened himself on the ground, his big, round, sparkling black eyes looking up at him in utter bewilderment.
Pew!
That look was a direct critical hit that pierced straight through Eric's defenses. He took a deep breath, clumsily controlled his four completely unfamiliar legs, staggered over, and used a front paw to gently pat the little guy's fluffy yellow head.
This further worsened the main gong's impression of the original owner, and the main gong once again chased him away. The original owner, in turn, resented the little lion cub for getting in his way. From that day forward, he never went to get the cub back, having completely abandoned him.
How pitiful, Eric thought to himself.
The little lion cub had already endured a life of sometimes eating, sometimes starving with the original owner, only to be bluntly abandoned in the end. Yet, by the end of the story, he never turned into a villain. In fact, after the original owner was banished from the tribe, the cub still sent people to rescue him.
Unfortunately, the original owner's body was too weak; he died before the rescuers could arrive.
What a good little lion. Eric nuzzled his head against the little tyke's small, fluffy yellow one.
"What a melodramatic plot," Eric shook his head wearily. "The older brother is a fool for men, while the younger brother gets abandoned but remains completely loyal. Honestly."
"Oh, right, what was this little one's name again?" He tried to recall for a moment. "Ah, that's it. His name is Leo."
Beastmen could also speak while in their beast forms. Eric called out softly, "Awo... Leo?"
"Why do I have to keep 'awoo'?" Eric thought, patting his muzzle with a paw.
Evidently, the original owner had never treated Leo kindly before. Leo appeared overjoyed; he lifted his head and, looking up at him, hesitantly stuck out his tongue to lick his face.
The lick made Eric chuckle. The average lifespan of a beastman was quite long—they could live for several hundred years—so at twenty or thirty years old, they were still adolescents. The little lion cub had been taken in over twenty years ago; the only reason his beast form was so small was because he had been malnourished for so long under the original owner's care.
Thinking about how the little tyke licking him was actually over twenty years old, he still found he couldn't quite get into a beastman's mindset, so he gently used his paw to pat Leo's head.
At this moment, a gurgling sound reached his ears. He lowered his head to look, and just as he had predicted, Leo's stomach was completely flat with hunger.
He sighed inwardly. What a terrible start: a leaky roof, a hungry younger brother, muddy earthen walls, and a house so poor that even the mice scorned it.
But even so, in the Snow Wolf tribe, their house was still considered quite luxurious. Others lived in wooden tents, and some even in canvas tents. Their house was made of earth because their parents had both been warriors, with strength and savings, so they had been able to build it. In the winter, it was, after all, warmer than other people's homes.
The Snow Wolf tribe had thick hides and plenty of fat; in this kind of house, no one had ever frozen to death during winter. The original owner of his body was perhaps the only person in their tribe who would have.
He followed the original owner's memories, stood up straight, and thought about changing into his human form. His line of sight grew higher, as expected. He hurriedly wrapped the animal skin beside him around his hips.
Come to think of it, the clothing of the Snow Wolf tribe basically consisted of these simple animal skins, which were convenient for them to put on and take off when changing from their beast form to their human form.
Some people would also trade for a little hemp cloth with the Human tribe that came for trade, or at markets between the tribes, to make into simple clothes. But very few people wore them; this was a valuable asset in their tribe. Many beastmen only wore it in the winter to keep warm when they were young or old.
Eric wrapped the animal skin around his hips and gently bent over to lift Leo into his arms.
Cradling Leo, he searched his memories for where food might be in the dark, damp room. He only found a pile of small, slightly shriveled beans, and a few pieces of blackish-red dried meat. All that was left besides that were a few unnamed wild fruits.
The dried meat had been brought over by people from the tribe; the rest was leftover food that the original owner and Leo had gathered.
If the conditions aren't right, you create them yourself. A civilized modern person would never let themselves starve.
He put firewood into the fire pit and got it lit. Fortunately, there was flint here, so at least he didn't need to drill wood to make a fire.
He used a few small branches to skewer the dried meat. There were no basting brushes or spray bottles here. He washed his hands thoroughly, placed the skewered meat over the fire to roast, and as it cooked, he dipped his hand in water, flicking it onto the meat.
Doing this could make the dried meat a little softer; after all, the little lion cub looked so small, and it was better for him to eat softer food.
Right now, he had no way of going out to hunt for fresh meat to roast for the little one.
When the dried meat had absorbed the water and expanded slightly, he took some coarse salt from a jar and sprinkled it on the meat, then repeated the action of flicking water onto it to let the seasoning slowly seep in.