Fluffy Mates Chase Their Boss on Survival Show novel Chapter 13

Chapter 13 Shape The Pot

Shane remained crouched nearby, picking stones and twigs from the clay.

When Layla hoisted the basket onto her back, he didn’t even offer to help.

Stella’s fans seized the moment to stir up a fuss.

[Layla is so pathetic. Prof. Slater ignores her, yet she keeps pursuing him.]

[He’s treating her like a laborer. Does she really think Prof. Slater has a crush on her? It’s unbearable to watch her trying so hard to impress!]

[What can she do? With nothing else going for her, manual labor is her way to curry favor with males.]

Just as Stella’s fans began to make noise, they were quickly shut down.

[I’m laughing so hard. Don’t you have your own idol to watch? Why are you here, causing trouble?]

[Your precious Stella wears skirts and makeup and never works a day. You think every female should be like that? Ever heard of female power?]

[A creeping vine thinks it’s a towering tree. Speak up, single-celled organisms!]

[Well said!]

The two returned to the cave entrance and set down their backpacks. Layla asked, “Need anything else?”

“A flat stone and some branches.” After saying that, he thought about Layla’s strength and added, “Small wood chips will do too.”

Gathering branches was tough, but Layla could easily split a log into chips.

Meanwhile, Shane sat on the ground, kneading clay and selecting the best pieces.

By the time Layla had split a log into the size Shane wanted, he had already taken wood ash, spread it on a stone, and begun shaping a clay pot.

He asked, “Can I have some chicken soup once the pot is done?”

Layla couldn’t help but grumble inwardly again. You’re only here for my chickens, aren’t you?

“Then we’ll need two bowls,” she replied.

Shane nodded silently and continued working.

With nothing else to do, Layla sat opposite him and whittled two pairs of bamboo spoons. Whenever she looked up, she saw Shane intently rolling strands of clay to shape the pot.

It was oddly fascinating.

Layla pinched off a piece of clay and, mimicking his movements, shaped a cup of her own.

Shane glanced up and pushed a bamboo tube filled with water toward him. “You can use this to patch any cracks.”

The hen flapped uselessly, then seemed to accept its fate.

[Did I see that right? Is that…?]

[I saw it too!]

[Layla is in danger!]

[No, Prof. Slater is here. He’s the King Cobra.]

[Are you referring to the King Cobra who knocked himself out chasing a bitmon?]

[Don’t say another word. As his student, I’m so ashamed, first from failing a class, and now because people might ask if my advisor is the same Prof. Slater who knocked himself out. I hope he doesn’t drag Layla down with him.]

The viewers had written Shane off. But he was already on his feet, his serpentine pupils sharp and vertical. He raised an arm to shield Layla.

She looked down at the arm blocking her way, pushed it aside, and charged straight toward the green eyes hidden in the grass.

[Holy shit! Is she out of her mind?]

[Let the toxic waste die. She deserves it!]

[Fine if she dies, but those are wolves. Wolves don’t hunt alone. And they hold grudges. She’s going to get herself killed and get Prof. Slater killed too.]