Coldsnap: The Billionaire Alpha's Fated Pregnant Princess (GL)
Chapter 145 - Farm Fresh With Rich Gold Centers

Chapter 145: Chapter 145 - Farm Fresh With Rich Gold Centers

I woke with the first gray light filtering through the container’s ventilation gaps, feeling more centered than I had in days. | Guardian’s Composure | had done work overnight - the steady warmth in my chest had actually allowed me to sleep very well even in stuffy conditions.

"Might have been the best sleep I’ve had in years..."

Taking off the set of clothes I slept in and Stashing the shipping container, I shifted to wolf form for the journey back. Hours of running through the forest on four legs felt great with my paws on the damp earth as Vrika and I moved in harmony through the trees.

> Two may be my favorite number representation of balance, but four is just practical when it comes to the number of feet one has to use. <

Travel helped clear my head further. My worries are lowering but problems to solve are becoming clearer. By the time I shifted back to human form near the forest’s edge, I felt more ready to face whatever waited in the city.

Dressed again, with a backpack and some things in it to seem realistic, I started hiking. Though I still had no clear plan for how to approach Kyrie with any newfound independence because I’d thought of a particular problem with paying her back immediately.

Explaining how I am able to do so, as honesty makes me a thief in this world. Clarifying my world’s concept of treasure hunting laws may not help. But it’s still fine, as at least I’ll be able to stop using her card and accumulating more debt.

While walking along a particularly rural road toward more populated areas, a hand-painted wooden sign caught my attention. [FRESH EGGS - CHICKENS - FARM STORE] with an arrow pointing down a gravel drive that would be sort of out of my way.

"Food..."

It was not quite the same fog of shock, but I certainly was moving down toward the small farmhouse before I realized it. Sitting surrounded by scattered outbuildings and wire-fenced yards where chickens roamed freely, it looked quaint.

An elderly but strong and stocky woman was scattering nice smelling feed to the birds. Her gray hair was cropped quite short, like someone who didn’t want to spend the time bothering with taking care of something in the way of her work.

"Morning, dear! You’re up early. Looking for eggs?"

She looked up and called out with a smile as I approached. Licking my lips while watching the chickens peck at their breakfast, I swallow my saliva and nod at her.

"That does sound good. What else do you have available?"

"Well, I’ve just finished processing some birds this morning if you’re interested in a whole chicken."

She wiped her hands on her apron as she walked closer to where I was standing next to her fence. Her scent was human, but there were a few things about it I found... odd. She also had a slight accent that I couldn’t entirely place.

"Martha Callaway’s the name. Been running this little operation for thirty years."

"Citra. And I’d definitely be interested in both eggs and that chicken."

The woman’s face lit up at the prospect of a sale and she led me to a small corrugated metal building that served as her farm store. The eggs she showed off were a beautiful range of colors from different breeds - brown, white, and a pale green-blue type that she pointed at.

"These ones here are from my Araucanas. Those are the lovely ladies out there with the ear tufts. And I’ve got a nice large roaster today that’ll feed a family of six easily."

I examined the dressed and sealed chicken she pulled out of cold storage, noting the yellow skin and plump breast. It looked nothing like the processed birds I saw in the grocery stores. I really wanted to ask what the difference was... but I wanted more to just simply eat the thing.

> Can’t exactly shift right in front of her though. That would be awkward. <

"How much for three sets of dozen eggs of each type... and the chicken?"

"Oh, that’d be about sixty dollars total, dear."

Without a thought, I reached into my backpack and pulled out one of the 1/10th ounce gold coins that I’d left out, valued at least $180 just for the raw material. The chicken farmer’s eyes widened as she took it, turning it over in her weathered hands.

"My word, this is real gold? It’s beautiful - even looks like an old collector’s piece."

She was likely right. I actually have no idea how much money I’m giving up to her right now. I should have done more specific searches on their rarity. But I know how much I want what she is selling, so I craft more lies.

"It is real. Recently recovered from an old estate sale hidden in a safe without certificates. Will that cover it? If you don’t want to take something so uncertain I understand."

Though if she refuses, I’m going to kick myself for not withdrawing extra funds when I was at ATMs. I wonder if she has one of those card readers?

"Honey, this is worth far more than what you’re buying. I couldn’t possibly take it."

Martha’s face had finally settled on guilt after running through a number of them. She tried to hand the coin back to me, but I shook my head.

"Consider it payment for your quality. Or if you must, merely a lucky encounter. This food is exactly what I need."

And if the single smallest denomination coin I had of my own makes or breaks my survival, then at least I’ll have eaten something good before the end. Still, she looked troubled by the obvious overpayment. But not quite like I would be.

> Not thinking I’m tricking her, not thinking I’m planning on her owing me one, just a person seeing how intent I am and trying to work things out for the both of us. <

"At least let me throw in some vegetables from the garden. And..."

She started to study me more carefully. Seeing the backpack and outfit, probably taking into account that I walked up. Maybe even that I don’t have a cooler... I really didn’t think this through, did I?

> The lure of the chicken was too strong. Why didn’t you stop- right, because you want it too. That was a stupid question. <

Vrika whines an apology anyway... and it makes me feel bad because I know that no matter how much of human behavior it sort of ’gets’ through me, it’s still just a beast spirit. Not a shifter itself.

"I’ve got to make a supply run this morning. If you’re heading into the city, I’d be happy to give you a ride with everything if you’d like. Got a refrigerated unit for the chicken I take to market in my truckbed. Unless I caught you heading out?"

The offer came without any ulterior motive I could detect. Honestly, I would have been in trouble if she asked more questions. I couldn’t exactly say I was going to sneak off and stuff things in a shipping container I can pull back into reality at will!

"A ride would be wonderful, thank you. I was actually thinking of calling one in, if you wouldn’t have minded me loitering."

How quickly I start lying when back into civilization. It’s really a bad habit. The old woman bustled around after that, gathering my purchases into a crate and adding carrots, potatoes, squash, radish and even some fresh herbs to it.

"That mint smells nice."

But I won’t complain about any of that, even if I’m pretty much more interested in the meat. Because I can at least munch on the carrots before we go.

> Looks like we’ll have to wait on the chicken, Vrika. Well, it’s cold anyway and not fresh kill... not that it would have stopped me from chowing on it after removing that sealing plastic! <