Serval and Sheep (Chapter 6)
Locker room talk can get a bit worrisome.
One firm shove from Leslie knocks Desmond to the ground. The urial shakes his head and offers a hand.
"You're distracted today, captain," he sighs, "Are you feeling okay?"
The Jacob sheep pushes himself up in a huff, ignoring Leslie's extended hand.
"Just peachy. Let's keep going."
The older ram backs away from Desmond's butting head.
"Practice is over anyways, captain. Let's hit the lockers." He gently grabs his opponent's upper horn and lifts it up, offering his gaze.
However, their eyes never meet, and the sheep shakes his horns free of Leslie's grip. He follows the stream of other rams to the direction of the locker room and trots off, speechless.
Although Desmond is known as the strong and silent type, Leslie liked to think that he understood Desmond the best. A privilege of being the eldest, most mature member. But he knows well that a ram hates being pitied most of all. He decides to stifle his concern and drop the subject for now.
"Got some horn wax I can borrow?" Elmer asks to no one in particular, absentmindedly gripping his handle-like horns. "The boys are getting kinda dusty."
Peter snorts. "Your 'boys' guzzle up more wax than a monster truck. Yak horns need a gallon at least." He pokes his muzzle in his locker, and reaches for a small tube of wax, nearly squeezed dry.
"You can have this," the bighorn sheep smirks, "but I don't even think that's enough for your big toe."
It takes two steps for Elmer to reach the other side of the room and pin Peter against the locker. He chuffs teasingly and wraps a beefy arm around his neck.
"I didn't ask for your lube, Peewee," he laughs. "Though it makes sense why it'd be so used up!"
Peter cackles back and slams his forehead against the yak's chest, knocking the air out of him.
"Your mom'll be needing some more of that lube soon, Fuzzy-Wuzzy. Since I'm a gentleman, I'll pay!"
Two pincer-like horns pinches the sheep's arm, triggering a squeal. Marcel's signature move. The springbok's height (or lack thereof) and small curved horns were infamous in the locker room for delivering sneak attacks, commonly referred to as the "stag beetle bite".
"Elmer's mom aside, don't act like you've been getting any!" He snarks.
Peter's ears shoot up in offense. "More than you, perma-virgin! Try hitting on the mice before going for an ewe, why don't ya?" He kicks the smaller ram aside and coolly straightens his beard. "Meanwhile, a real ram like me has got two ladies on standby. You know the cute Merino twins? I'm this close to a threesome!"
The room explodes in uproarious laughter.
"You'll have a threesome with them the same day Marcel has a date with a female not made of rubber!" Desmond retorts, shutting his locker with a self-approving air.
Leslie raises an eyebrow. "I don't seem to recall you doing any better."
Marcel nods vigorously in agreement. "Yeah! And it's not like you're stretched for choice! Half of the bovid ladies practically ovulate when you pass them by!"
"Plus, now that you're vice president of the student council, it won't just be ewes thirsty for you. Why don't you land yourself a rhino girlfriend?" Peter asks with a sly grin.
"Better yet," Elmer adds, "The president! If I were vice-president, there's no way I wouldn't try to hit that."
Leslie furrows his brow. "The serval? You're into some kinky stuff, El."
Marcel interjects, eyes closed in contemplation. "No, he's onto something. She may be a carnie, but she's bad. Like it's sort of like, double trouble, y'know?"
The urial crosses his arms, clearly not knowing. Marcel gives a frustrated sigh.
"She's got that cute round face right? And she has really big eyes. BUT!" His index finger darts into an accusatory point straight at Leslie.
"She's also got a really sexy body! That figure, plus those long legs..." He continues, miming an hourglass shape with his hands. "In other words, she has mastered both the 'cute' factor AND the 'sexy' factor! The power she has... it's indescribable!"
Marcel puffs out his chest victoriously, as if he'd just revealed a murderer amongst the group.
"Well, I guess any guy would find her hot," Peter admits. "Say, if you're not gonna make a move, why don't you introduce me to her, ca-"
The herd of rams suddenly realize Desmond is nowhere to be seen.
Elmer tilts his head. "Where'd he go?"
Leslie shakes his head, pensive. "You obviously creeped him out with all that gutter talk. Not everyone has a weird carnie fetish like you guys apparently do."
The room goes quiet for a bit.
"We were just messing around. Obviously we wouldn't actually try and get with her." Marcel says in a small voice after a while.
Peter turns to Leslie. "Do you think we should apologize or something? I guess we were saying some messed up stuff about his coworker or whatever."
The older ram directs his gaze to the door. His eyes narrow. "It's best to just drop the subject altogether. The captain's clearly got a lot going on."
Nobody moves for a long time. Suddenly, Elmer speaks up.
"So... no horn wax?"
The student council office hums with the pleasant energy of honest work. The air was so calm one couldn't even tell it had nearly become a crime scene only two days ago.
The almost-criminal and almost-victim, in fact, work surprisingly well together. The level of professionalism and competence displayed by both befits members of the Noah's Arc Academy student council.
The office hours of the council passes with grace. Papers stamped, sorted and sealed, and upcoming drafts for future school events flow by like honey. But this harmony is interrupted by the ringing of Solomon's cellphone. He retrieves the phone from his pocket, and a brow lifts in surprise.
"The school reception." he mutters. He presses the answer button and lifts his phone up to mouth-level, his ears lowering to better hear the call.
"Solomon speaking. Yes... Ah, excellent, right on schedule... Hm? And Mr. Lombardi as well? Ah, well... Hm. I see. I suppose it can't be helped... We'll be right there. Yes, until then."
He hangs up and a small sigh escapes his lips.
"It appears the shipment of new sporting equipment has arrived safely, however the animals assigned to move them to the gymnasium have... neglected their responsibilities. Additionally, the PE teacher had to leave for personal affairs. So, it appears we must rectify this."
He rises from his chair. "Fortunately, this should be a two-man job. Brian and I shall return shortly, so please resume your work."
Brian's discomfort at the mere mention of physical labor is transparent on his face, but it isn't vocalized. "Well, I guess that's that."
But Brian isn't the only animal struck by this news. The other two animals, realized what this means. They would be alone in that room. Again. And last time...
"On second thought," interjected Solomon rather abruptly. "This job is better suited for carnivores. I hate to ask you this, President, but would you accompany me instead?"