FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Written by Choice Cuts Del

Commission for HunterCross | September 2020 | 5559 Words

The Clydesdale could hardly believe his eyes as he stared down at the papers in his hand. It had been a surprise to him earlier when the Bar'N'Yard's administrator handed him off the pile of today's intake paperwork. Now, as he sat facing the shy and blushing cross fox, Dante couldn't help but let his words catch on his throat as he eyed the cute boy up and down.

"So... you're looking to make a very big decision today, aren't you?" The words were clinical, not nearly as exciting as what Hunter was expecting from the man whose job it was to end his life.

"I, uh... I am... and I understand what you have to do to give it to me."

"Well," the horse's eyes looked the boy over. Small stature, but stocky enough to carry some meat on his bones, the striking red, brown and black fur pattern on his pelt would be a real good sale to someone looking for quality fur. And despite his nervous demeanor, it was obvious Hunter was sporting a cute hard-on under his simple khaki shorts. "By law, I have to ask a few questions... but please, make yourself comfortable. It's not often we get someone willing and eager to give up their lives as both livestock and meat."

Hunter almost yipped aloud at the realization that his darkest fantasy was a mere step away, his hand reaching down to quickly unbutton his shorts and shed them aside, wallet and phone still in the pockets. "Y... yes Chef." He said shyly, giving his arousal a few gentle pumps with his paw. Dante could only smirk at the eager slut, amused and excited by how little it took to get him going. Clearing his throat, the massive horse rancher began.

"You understand that by filing this request, you are to become full property of the Bar'N'Yard Kink Ranch and Day Spa? That you will be subject to physical, emotional and mental abuse that will lead to your death and processing as products for the benefit of this ranch." Dante couldn't help but feel his own hefty shaft stir between his legs as he spoke, his massive equine form a little stifled by the semi-formal clothes he was required wear as the lead ranch overseer. While he loved giving weekenders a chance to explore their fantasies, there was something about inducting a new lifer into the fold that got his heart racing and lust simmering. Hunter could barely contain himself as he played with his arousal, his nervousness melting away as he nodded his assent.

"I understand. And I accept it. I've wanted this my whole life." Pausing, the boy thought about it with an excited glow to his eyes, a sigh spreading over his face as he added, "I... I am meat. And I'm ready to give myself to being happy, dumb livestock before I die." Shifting in his chair, Dante stirred a little as his own hand slipped down to unbuckle his belt and release the pressure off his throbbing shaft.

"Mmmm... and your affairs are in order?"

"Just liquid assets and a will..."

"Easy enough. That makes disbursement smooth on our end..." With a smirk, Dante reached over to the window of his office and pulled the blinds, letting the Roman shades fall down over the glass and ensuring there would be no unwanted intrusion on the next question. "So tell me, little morsel... how sexually active are you?" Hunter gulped as he let go of his cock, the sound of a zipper from his ranch hand questioner making it clear what was going to come next.

"I, uh... I've played with myself plenty before today. Tried to stretch myself with toys too."

"Well, let's hope it's enough..." Dante smirked as he set aside the papers and gave a pat to his thigh, turning the swiveling chair just enough to give the little cross fox a path to come closer. "How about you sit on my lap and we'll decide how to place you on the farm, little one?"

As soon as he stood from his chair, Hunter knew he was in for a workout, a whole 18 inches of hefty horse cock throbbed between Dante's thighs, the tip swollen and flared as he showed it off to the boy. This was his favorite part of processing a new lifer slut for the ranch. Shyly, the cross fox went to sit back in the horse's lap, perhaps hoping he would get to shimmy and grind a little like a tease. Instead, he was met with a firm hand, the stallion letting out a soft nicker as he squeezed Hunter's taught and meaty ass from behind, a thumb hooked about to threaten his hole as the boy balanced nervously on the balls of his feet, ass in the air.

"Mmmmm..." Dante growled with lust abandon as he slowly squeezed and appraised, his other hand reaching up to Hunter's midriff, giving a firm squish to his belly flesh before guiding him to sit back slowly until the boy's rump rested against the ramrod stiff cock, a tender dribble of pre ever so slightly lathering the foxboy's hole. "You are a little on the small side, meat... but you've got lovely definition to your body. Your thighs and ass especially..."

"O-ohhh... th- thank you, Sir." Dante smirked as his free hand slid upwards, just enough to pinch the boy's nipple, before gripping around his chest and pulling him backwards. There was a gasp from Hunter, eyes going wide as he felt his hole stretch, then rather suddenly POP as the weight of his body impaled the boy on Dante's fat horse cock. "A-ahh!!!"

The Clydesdale gasped as he felt the hole yield, privately shocked he hadn't torn the lithe and sweet foxboy open with his girth, the future meat struggling and whimpering as gravity settled him down. Pausing momentarily on the medial ridge of the horse's fat cock, Dante gave one more pull backwards, feeling his charge's greedy ass swallow the lower nine inches of his shaft, leaving the cute boy sitting in Dante's lap, moaning and huffing as he felt the thick bulge of horse cock deep in his gut.

"We'll check that one off too... won't break on us the first night..." chuckling, Dante slowly turned his chair until Hunter was sitting cozy in his lap, staring at his desk while the throbbing stallion shaft humped idly with little hip thrusts and grinds. Carefully, Dante pulled out a set of laminated paper sized cards, laying them out on his desk nice and carefully. As he bounced in the horse's lap, Hunter could see each one, the focal point being a stylized outline of an anthropomorphic animal, drawn on with dashed lines to signify primal cut marks, each one labeled appropriately to match a particular cut of store-bought meat. The chart labeled 'Beef' for example had the outline of an anthropomorphic bull, the margins dedicated to a few drawings of the equipment used to create the effect - a bull hood complete with horns and nose ring, swatting little tail and harness meant to hunch the wearer down to all fours.

Hunter gasped, eyes wide as he stared over the options for his own demise. Every major farm animal was included, from pigs to chickens, even a number of non-standard ones like farmed reindeer or caribou. But as Dante shuffled through each placard, offering their choicest points to the moaning little cross fox, one stood out to the little slut most of all.

"Wh-what about that one, Sir?" He asked shyly, Dante having to playfully hold back the fox's idle arm so he didn't jerk himself to orgasm too quickly.

"Oh?" He smirked and picked up the placard titled 'Mutton,' a happy picture of a fluffy furred sheep, with it's body divided into choice cuts of tender lamb. "You know... i could see you making a very good lambykins, sweet meat..." The Clydesdale smirked as he gave the boy's haunch a smack, almost ordering him to giddy up on his cock. "Mmmm... nice thick and fat leg of lamb... and these shoulders, oh they'll braise nicely... and of course these ribs..." Reaching two hands around to hug the cross fox from behind, Dante moaned as he picked up his rocking thrusting into the mewling little slut, his unlubed hole stretched and broken. Puffy and raw from the deep pounding he got, Hunter could only squeal out a moan of agreement as the horse's two hands rubbed and fondled over his rack of lamb chops.

"A-aaahhh... ohh... baaaa... pl-please Sir... let me be your lamb."

The plea was masic to Dante, a clench from the boy's ass pushing him over the edge with ferocity. A sudden gasping yip escaped from his little lamb-to-be as hot, sticky horse cum painted his insides. Hunter's hand reached out to try and stroke himself, the fat cock pulsing on his prostate, so close to sharing a last cum with his future farmer. But Dante was quick, despite shuddering in the throes of his orgasm, the whinnying beast quickly gripped Hunter's arms and held them tight to his sides, so all Hunter could do was plead and whimper.

"Ahhhh... no no no, sheepy... you only get touched when I say so. You're going to be my good little lamb, aren't you?" Hunter gasped as he felt the softening horse cock slipping against his tender prostate, moaning like a whore as he nodded sheepish and shy, needy little fox prick throbbing between his legs before he was allowed to finally stand up out of the horse's lap. With a sigh, Dante composed himself once more, tugging up his belt and straightening his button down a little; his pants only had the slightest stain from his sexual escapades. Hunter blushed as he was gripped from behind, leaving his clothes strewn on the office floor as he was walked out to the caprine pens, cute little broken ass dripping horse cum down the hallway as he was marched, for the first and last time, to the Bar'N'Yard Ranch.

Though relatively small compared to the battery farming pens of bulls, cows, pigs and sows, the caprine pens at the Bar'N'Yard was the best in the kink ranch circuit, often holding upwards of twenty sheep and goats in their little flock. Some were only there temporarily, a nice palette cleanse for a person wishing to go wall-eyed for a weekend and forget all their troubles. But this flock also held a few lifers, the cute floppy ears of their sheep and goat shaped hoods sporting a red ear tag. As Hunter was walked past the sheep paddock he lept in surprise at the sudden an vicious barking of a farm hound, a large beast of some sort, his identity and species long since hidden under tight fitting latex and years of reprogramming. Instead, the black and white coloration of his suit and harness ensured he looked the part of the perfect border collie, well trained to corral and control the jittery sheep.

"Ohh, Scout, git down from there." The hound had his paws up on the wire fencing, putting his full weight firm on it as he loudly boofed and barked to announce his displeasure at the strange orange furred animal. After all, foxes can steal from any unprotected farm. "Shush boy. This here's Fluffy... gonna be a new sheep for the pasture... and he's a lifer too, so gonna end up in yer bowl, boy..."

Almost like that, the formerly person-side of the hound's mind clicked over to think about what he was told, a broad and toothy grin washing over Scout's face as he slowly licked his chops from one cheek to the other, before climbing back off the fencing with a last wary bark. Dante smiled as he opened the door to the sheep barn, a small building off the side of the paddock, which served as both an indoor home for the caprines and a carding shed for shearing their sheep. Dante had laid out everything he needed prior to Hunter's arrival, a full set of sized sheep gear waiting on the workbench. With a little grin he told the cute boy to stand on the wooden planking in the middle of the room. Hunter of course, did as he was told, a little surprised as the farm hound Scout had gotten into the barn and was eagerly snuffling his future table scraps to get used to Fluffy's new scent.

"Go on, Scout... get to know our little friend here." Hunter turned his head as an electric razor clicked on, whirring softly as Dante approached the boy. But just as the blade bit into the cross fox's gorgeous fur, he felt the hound lean up, the broad hooded muzzle wrapping around the future fox's leaky cock, slowly nursing it, suckling along the boy's pitiful length. Scout was clearly well trained, only needing a simple reminder of "sheep don't cum" to keep him from getting too zealous. The distraction of having his shaft teased and lipped over was just what Hunter needed to keep calm as the whirring blade sheared off his beautiful fur, line by line until the little cross fox was completely bald from tip to tail, and his feet were covered in a layer of fluffy orange and black fur.

Once he was cleaned, Dante gave his helper hound a gentle command to sit back, before retrieving a tight latex suit from the work table, nipping a bottle of silicone lube as well. Hunter blushed as he felt the cool silicone spurted onto his bare flesh, the slick fluids drooling over his body as the rough ranch hand worked it over every inch. Satisfied with his greased up sheep, the Clydesdale let out a soft nicker of praise as he began to slip Hunter into the tight-fitting body suit, getting him to curl his lower legs behind him and balance on his knees so the bitchsuit would fit his body appropriately. As the seam was sealed up his belt, Hunter began to worry a little, nervously eyeing up the way the suit left him helpless, without hands or feet to manipulate the world around him. But as he was about to make a comment, he spotted the same placard he saw in Dante's office, the "Mutton" meat chart, blown up to a much larger size and hanging in the adjacent carding shed. It was no use arguing, he was going to become a sheep whether or not he liked it. And despite his worry, the boy's throbbing cock certainly showed he wanted it. Best get used to it, he thought as the seam zipped up tight around his elbows, locking his body onto all fours and requiring him to balance on his knees and elbows to walk about.

After fitting his new limbs with a set of rubber cloven hooves, Dante stepped back to the work bench to get Hunter's new fleece. A large bundled roll of fleece, strapped in the middle like a sleeping bag, was brought over and unrolled onto the boy's adorable frame, a few strategically placed straps allowing Dante to cinch up the whole thing like a strange cross between a fuzzy blanket and a straight jacket, the poofy exterior of the fleece heavy and awkward enough that it forced the boy to waddle a little to get anywhere. Bumbly and adorable, just like a real live sheep. But there were a few accoutrements still missing.

Hunter gasped as he saw the next piece of kit, Dante proudly presenting a leather hood to his future sheep. Adorable floppy black ears bounced with each step as the Clydesdale stepped forward, one of the ears crowned with a red plastic clip to denote Hunter's lifer status. The rest of the hood was built from white leather, meant to to blend in with the white wool on his back and mimic the white fur of a sheep. Offering the open back of the hood to his fox-turned-sheep, Hunter could see an integral cylinder, a sort of bit gag designed from squishy material, the interior built to allow him to mush and swallow food, if with some difficulty, but also close back up so he could no longer speak people speech. Instead, the rubbery stop ensured any sound leaving Hunter's mouth would modulate to a perfect bleating 'baa.' Without offering the boy a chance to speak his last words, nor even a chance to understand the contraption, Dante squeezed Hunter's jaw open with his rough ranchworker's hands and tugged the hood back over his snout, the sheep hood slipping on perfectly over his face and head before buckling behind. Surprised at the strange rubbery invasion of his throat and tongue, Hunter let out a worried and surprised, "Baaaa?!" The bleat caught him by surprise, taking the poor boy aback as he realized how deep his dehumanizing went. He sat speechless for a moment before testing his new voice as the stallion rancher got together the next implement. "Baaa? ...Baa! BaaaaaAAAA~!"

SNAP! Just as the bleat reached its crescendo, Hunter felt a yank on his shaved tail, the once long and flowing appendage now shaved, pathetic and ratlike as it poked out of one of few holes of his tight fitting bitchsuit. Without fanfare, Dante threaded his tail through the elastrator and popped the band off at a perfect spot, the tight fitting elastic tying off his tail in a perfect little dock. The majority of the tail would blacken and die, leaving a small bony puff for him to wiggle about like a frolicking lamb. Scout even seemed to take interest in the process, the lazy hound perking his ears at the panicked bleating of his now pained future flockmember. The worried bleats were important to listen to, in order to familiarize himself with any troubled cries he might hear. Dante just chuckled, taking the boy's cock and balls in his hand and fondling them softly till they softened and dropped ever so slightly.

"Mmmm... don't worry my lil' mutton chop... we docked your tail, now we just gotta make sure these little lambmakers don't cause any trouble... wouldn't want to find a ewe pregnant because my little sheep got frisky one night." The pain on his tail was concerning, enough to make Hunter shift on his elbows and knees, whining and bleating all the while. But when the band snapped around his balls, Hunter cried out in a panic, bumbling about the room in a vain attempt to quell the sudden pain of elastic wrapped tight about his ball sack. It was enough for Scout to stand from his resting spot, boofing loudly as he wandered in front of the little sheep and calmly herded his new charge back towards Dante. "That's a good boy... he's all yours, pup... go on, get him acquainted with the flock..." The farm hound processed what was orderd of him, like a switch turning on before he gave a little nudge and nip to the sheep's hooves, the poor thing struggling to walk and distracted by the pain as he tottered along on his elbows and knees. The big farm hound nudged and coaxed him until he stepped out into the paddock.

A lovely sea of white and black, sheep and goats as far as the eye could see. At least they were people dressed as sheep and goats. Even through Hunter's teary eyes, he knew that he was home, where he belonged at long last. The sheep dog gave one last little nudge to his charge, before doing a once-around the flock, leaving him to get acquainted with the others, a few of the weekender critters wandering up to give soft lipping nuzzles to the boy, despite his obvious discomfort. It would be a long process to heal and to get used to his new life as a castrated sheep, but for once, Hunter knew he was home. No more pesky person worries. Mutton to worry about at all.

Hunter crouched down softly squinting his eyes as he narrowed in on his prey. It sat still in the summer sun, no movement... the right time to strike. Swaying his soft rump back and forth he readied to pounce, the predator about to strike... Dinner was in his sights.

Old habits can die hard. Even though he took wonderfully to being a sheep in the four months since signing away his life, Hunter still occasionally enjoyed practicing his vulpine hunting skills. Of course, those predatory pounces were far less useful when his prey was a choice thistle plant he had been 'stalking' for his evening graze. With the grace of a bumbly gimp, Hunter bounded on all fours right at the purple flower, his foxish yip coming out as a short sharp 'Baa!' before he landed face first into the tender flower, tearing it from the field and proudly chewing his well-earned dinner.

...and chewing... and chewing... foxes weren't designed quite as well as sheep for the whole herbivore lifestyle. But he managed. It was useful that Dante constantly supplemented his diet with trough feeding and even some added oils to help fatten his pudgy body. As he lazily enjoyed his evening salad, he noticed Dante stepping over to the paddock, the massive Clydesdale giving a few mocking bleats to the sheep before calling for his loyal farm hound. Scout was up like a rocket and quickly leaned into the tender pets of his stallion owner, grinning and barking with happiness. Hunter couldn't help but smile under his hood at the relationship they shared, how loving and tender Dante was to all the animals, even if he occasionally fudged the rules. But as Scout quieted down he caught a few words of their conversation. Fluffy. Carding Shed. Now. Scout's head turned to lock eyes with the shy sheep. If his ears were biological they would have swiveled and pinned back in a point. Leaving the fence behind, Scout sauntered slowly up to Hunter's form, snuffling about the sheep in a rather silly attempt to act nonchalant, sticking his nose against the boy's ass and getting a good whiff of where he had rutted on the boy when nobody was looking. Hunter moaned softly as he clenched his cum slick hole remembering the rough fuck, a little still oozing down the stitched up spot where his balls had once hung many months ago.

After contemplating licking up his mess, Scout decided against it, instead giving the plump little sheep a nip, followed by a commanding bark, then another nip to signal him to move. Four months is plenty of time to practice, but even then, it is hard to move at a pace with you're limited to walking on your elbows and knees. Herded past the barn stalls and hay, Hunter found himself walked back to the carding shed by his loyal farm hound, the back room of the caprine barn. The one with the large 'Mutton' poster hanging from the wall. Dante grinned as he saw his special little lamb walk in the door, so innocent as he stood under the center rafters of the carding shed. It was going to be easy to process the trusting sheep.

Hunter stood nevously as he let his farmer get settled, his Clydesdale ranch hand smiling broadly as he picked up a set of clippers, the cord snaked along the floor as he stepped up to his fluffy little lamb. Naturally, Dante spent most of his time working with the ponies than any other beast on the farm. But little Fluffy was almost a pet project that Dante didn't want to pass up. Pushing his legs against the boy's side, Hunter felt the stallion's firm hand grip him by the jaw, yanking hard back and upwards on his head while forcing his rump to sit, flopping the boy into an awkward sitting position that he could not easily get out of. Letting out nervous little baaas and bleats, the sheep watched, enraptured in dumb animal bliss as Dante flicked on the clippers and began to shear down the boy's front, chest and belly slowly being relieved of the thick woolen fluff he had been wrapped in for so many months. His coat had plenty of opportunity to build up thick oily lanolin, his coarse matted wool coming off in a tight packed woolen pelt, with only the occasional shorn leavings falling off to the side. It would take some work to pull and card and disentangle the wool, but that would be the afternoon's job.

Slowly Dante worked to shear the cute boy clean, smirking as he used his powerful body weight to lean the plump and trusting sheep first to one side of his rump, then the other. Occasionally, Hunter would wiggle his trotters about, uselessly squirming against the Clydesdale's massive body, grinding his face absentmindedly into the horse's groin as he did. Dante didn't mind, carefully working on the exposed sides and belly of his pet lamb, piling up a fuzzy little pile of fresh wool on the carding shed floor. With the sides finished, he forced Hunter to lay down onto the floor, the stallion's powerful legs interlocking with his own bitchsuited limbs to keep him still as he shorn down his back. The rump took a little effort to reach, but by locking Hunter's head tight between his knees, the little sheep could only lay still and wiggle his stubby little tail, the puff of orange-bown fur the only spot that betrayed his true species.

Hunter couldn't help but moan as he felt the vibration of the clippers pass closer and closer to his flaccid little shaft, the tines of the blade dangerously close as they passed over the scarred and sutured flesh where his balls had once been. Aside from the occasional ass fucking by the farm hound, or a particularly eager ranch hand, Hunter had so few chances to enjoy himself with his arms and legs locked tight inside his bitchsuit. The sheepish rubber trotters would be useless for jerking off even if he could reach his cock. Closer and closer, the clippers buzzed until Dante just grazed along the length of his shaft. First on the left. Then on the right, once more around the base. Just as his cock swelled to a half-chub, eager and needy, the blade clicked off, leaving the whimpering little sheep pleading with tender baas and whines as his body was left untended. The stallion knew exactly what he was doing, but didn't seem to pay much mind as he set the clippers aside and gave his little lamb a pat on the rump.

"Awww... is someone unhappy?"

"Baaa!" Hunter nodded furiously as he looked down over his pudgy belly, perfectly shorn and showing off the curves of the added fat he had put on while in captivity.

"What's that, meat? You want me to play with you?"

"Baaa?" Hunter knew it wasn't likely, but his dumb sheep mind couldn't help but trust his stallion shepherd.

"Here, lemme just get you comfy, boy... and then I'll play with you..." Wide eyed, Hunter watched patiently and happily as Dante lowered a set of chains from the ceiling, attached to a pully on the rafters above. Bringing them down nice and slow, the Clydesdale took each one and attached them to the D-rings affixed to his hind hoof mitts, giving each chain a little shake before slowly hauling the sheep upwards feet-first.

"Baa-aaa!" Hunter gasped as his plump ass dragged on the carding shed floor for a moment, before being hoisted skyward by his meaty legs of lamb, the poor confused mutton swinging softly in the air as he hung from the ceiling. When he came to a stop, Hunter found himself staring at the back of the building, eyes fixed on the same poster with the smiling stylized anthropomorphic sheep, sectioned off into meat cuts, that he saw when he first applied. It was almost calming to see it again.

Click. This was his life choice.

Creak. It was the right decision.

Nudge. He was home at last.

POP!

Hunter hardly felt a thing. The deafening crack of the bolt gun struck him behind the head, forcing his skull forwards as the captive bolt caved in his cerebellum and brain stem in one horrid motion, instantaneously silencing his higher and lower functions. Behind the sheep hood, Hunter's eyeballs popped forward in the eye slits, bloodshot and overpressurized as the last thing he saw was the mutton meat chart he so loved. Like a live animal, now stunned, the sheep convulsed in an awkward and jerking manner, most of his autonomous functions severed. As fluids and brain matter drooled from the back of Hunter's broken skull, the hole jagged and sharp where the bolt gun had penetrated, the sheep wheezed out his last struggling breaths, the whistling stops of the hood causing them to come out like low and distressed bleats.

Hanging by the ankles, it wouldn't take long for him to die. His lungs were forever stuck in a contraction, and his heart was quivering inside his chest like jelly. But Dante didn't intend to simply kill his mutton, he was slaughtering him for meat, which meant he needed to be dressed. After setting a large metal basin underneath the quivering sheep, Dante sighed as he took his knife, gripped the little lamb by the shoulder and proceeded to slice from ear to ear, down around his throat, a flow of hot blood washing out his gaping neck. He watched with a fascination as blood flowed down the open windpipe, drooling out the slack-jawed sheep hood as he bled out, the last little struggles quieting down to a stillness in the carding shed. It was only while the blood was flowing that Dante noticed his faithful sheep dog, was whining in the corner, his favorite little lamb now hanging quiet and still from the ceiling.

"Heh... you really liked'em didn't ya, boy?" The hound, in a rare moment showing his humanity, let out a little nod, his eyes watching the sheep sway on the chain as he did. "...well, don't worry, boy... you'll like him much better in your dog bowl." Those last words were punctuated by the sound of a flood of organs, Dante rather stoically carving from groin to breastbone, allowing the offal and waste to slop out of the hanging carcass, down into the steel basin below.

Hot, steaming and fresh, Dante sighed as he ladled his home made puppy chow into a dog dish for his dinner guest tonight. Mutton tripe, liver, sweetbreads and off-trimmings simmered for hours and hours in a bone broth made special from Fluffy's long bones. Turning around, he smiled warmly as Scout bounced and tippy-tapped on his forelimbs. You could practically hear him saying, "Oh boy! Oh boy! Oh boy!" as he waited patiently for his evening meal.

"Now now," the Clydesdale said with a smirk as he used his free hand to point to the floor, holding the bowl up and out of the way. "Siiit..." Scout grinned and plopped his meaty rump down on the floor, before his demeanor soured at the second command. "Wait." Longingly, he watched with drool dripping from his jowels as the bowl was placed down in front of him, bits of the long dead cross fox mutton floating in a lovingly prepared wet stew for him to enjoy. So close, he could almost taste it.

Despite his pup's whimpers, Dante turned back to the stove to get his own dinner for the evening. Carefully, the Clydesdale smiled as he opened the oven door and pulled out the pan, a beautiful roast leg of lamb, trimmed neatly down the bone, scored across the top side and crusted with aromatic herbs and garlic. The tender bone-in roast was laid across a bed of pan roasted potatoes, the meal fork-tender and succulent as he pulled it out and let it rest on the counter. Scout's attention actually diverted for a moment, staring at the juicy and plump joint of meat, the former cross fox the perfect analog for a little lamb, even in death.

The stallion chef hummed softly to himself as he honed his favorite carving knife, before slicing across the bone, carving thin cuts of beautiful medium rare meat, laying them on his plate alongside a tender bed of potatoes. It would be a simple dish, but a hearty one to share with his loyal farmhound as thanks for a job well done. Sighing, Dante settled in to his seat at the table, slicing the fork-tender mutton before popping the first bite into his mouth. An explosion of flavor, gamey from his natural fox flesh, but mellowed out nicely after so many months of confinement, lack of exercise, and of course his castration. As the Clydesdale went to spear himself another piece, though, he was met with a little whine, Scout giving a disappointed whimper as he sat obediently over his dog bowl, looking down at it, then up again at his owner. With a little grin, Dante simply said, "Okay, boy," bracing himself for a splash of stew to splatter out onto his clean kitchen floor.

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