Transmigrated To A Beastworld As The Lazy Wife Of The Fox Lord

Chapter 289: One drunk fox husband.

"Hug."

As soon as Sienna entered the bedroom, long after the engagement and spontaneous after party thrown by Miro ended, this was the demand that welcomed Sienna. Immediately after, a white tail wrapped around tightly around her waist, just before she was trapped against the sturdy chest of her fox lord husband.

"Are you drunk again tonight?" She asked, with a smile.

He hummed for a second, and replied slowly. "Nooooo."

Sienna snorted. "I know you are drunk you clingy fox." His tail slapped her mouth. She had seen him do this to Ali a few times, when the little one was spilling secrets he wanted to hide.

Normally, she would caress the tail, and sigh in delight, but not tonight. She was tired. So, she pulled it away and tossed it aside. "Let’s take a bath, change into fresh clothes and get into bed."

She meant separate baths, so Sienna didn’t think much when she went ahead to escape from him side and undress. She wrapped a towel around her body and made it to the bathroom, exhaling softly when she made it there without being stopped. She filled the tub with warm water, and watched steam rising. Just as she was about to unwrap the towel, a voice came from behind her.

"Hug."

Suddenly, Elias showed up behind her, wrapping both his hands and tail around her. Her eyes widened. Had he moved like wind? How did she fail to hear him?

Sienna froze. "No. No, no, no. Not now." She maneuvered carefully, separating herself from him. When she turned and looked at him, his tails had gone from one to six, swaying like drunken banners. His eyes were glazed, his cheeks flushed, and arms reached out like a toddler.

"Huuuuuuugs," he declared, clinging to her arm quickly.

Sienna nearly screamed, "I am in a towel you drunk fox!"

He blinked, then grinned. "Nice towel. Give it to me. My towel."

Suddenly, he reached for it, trying to pry it off. Sienna screamed, holding on to the towel with one hand, and prying his arm away with another. But he latched tighter, his claws ripping off a piece of the towel altogether.

"Elias, you are drunk!" She hissed.

"Drunk on towel," he giggled, before promptly shifting into fox form.

Now, her towel was safe, but she had a giant fox with six tails wrapped around her waist like a living belt. His fur was warm, his breath smelled heavily of fox brew, rice wine and rum. His tails twitched with stubborn affection.

Sienna’s eye twitched. "This is ridiculous."

The fox refused to let go. He whined, buried his snout against her stomach, and wagged his tails so hard they knocked over her shampoo. "Hugs." He demanded, in a voice that very similar to Ali’s when she was running out of patience.

Sienna sighed, defeated. "Fine. You want hugs? I will give them to you, but you must first take a bath."

She dragged the fox, who was surprisingly heavy, toward the tub. He resisted, claws scratching the floor, leaving grooves in the tiles.

"Nooo, not the tub! Sienna, water is evil!"

"Yes, the tub," She snapped, shoving him in. "This is good evil." Warm water splashed everywhere, soaking her towel.

The fox blinked, then sighed happily, tails floating like oversized noodles. "Mmm, cozy."

Sienna eyed him suspiciously. "Stay there. Don’t move."

She turned on the shower, stepping under the water while keeping one eye on the fox. He stared back, unblinking, tails swishing lazily. It was like showering under surveillance.

"Stop staring!" she barked.

The fox yawned. "Can’t stop. You are pretty."

Sienna nearly slipped on the soap. "You are insufferable."

She finished her shower in record tome, towel back in place, and turned to find the fox still lounging on the tub. A seventh tail had made an appearance. Now all tails were overflowing like a waterfall of fur.

She sighed. "Fine," she muttered. "If you are not going to scrub yourself, then I guess its up to me."

She grabbed the soap and scrubbed his fur, muttering about how she never signed up for babysitting a seven tailed drunkard. The fox purred like a giant cat, splashing water everywhere.

"Stop moving!" Sienna scolded, shampoo dripping down her arm.

"Your hands are magic." the fox sighed dreamily.

Sienna rolled her eyes so hard she thought they would get stuck.

"Magic, huh? Then magically stop moving around."

The fox ignored her, tails slapping the water, sending waves over the edge. The bathroom soon looked like a bubble flood zone.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Sienna rinsed him off, wrung his tails and declared, "To the dryer, then bed."

The fox, however, had other plans. He leapt out of the tub, shook himself like a dog and bolted for the bedroom door. Sienna chased him, wet towel clinging to her body.

"Get back here!" she yelled.

The door exploded, the fox made it out of their room and skidded across the hallway, claws scratching the floor, leaving marks that would make the butler huff. He dug in heels--literally, and refused to leave.

Sienna grabbed his tails, dragging him inch by inch toward the bedroom. "You are going to bed if it kills me!"

Their scuffle had already attracted the attention of the guards, servants and Miro, who decided to record the moment for bribery purposes.

Elias, the fox, whined and flopped dramatically. "Too tired to walk. Carry me."

Sienna almost fainted. "With what strength!? You are not tired, you are drunk."

"Drunk foxes don’t walk, they are carried." He mumbled.

Sienna growled. With determination, she dragged him anyway, muttering curses about fox husbands, seven tails and the amount of money she would sue him for all the emotional and physical damages suffered tonight.

Finally, she shoved him onto the bed. He sprawled out, tails everywhere, looking smug.

Sienna collapsed beside him, exhausted. "Damn it! I have got to ban him from drinking in future."

The fox snuggled closer, tails wrapping around her like a blanket. "Sienna’s warm."

Sienna groaned. "Sienna’s trapped."

He chuckled, half-asleep. "Sienna’s mine, not stinky Lenard. Stinky, stinky, stupid lion. Stinky, stinky----"

Sienna stared the ceiling, towel damp, hair dripping and wondered her life had turned into babysitting a drunk fox lord with seven tails. And how long he would keep saying ’stinky’. He was repeating the word as if he was counting sheep to fall asleep.

But as his breathing slowed, tails twitching in dreams, she couldn’t help but laugh.

"Hug," he demanded, even in his sleep.

She sighed and hugged him. There were worse problems in marriages than clingy drunk fox husbands who wanted hugs.