The Great Straw Heist
The edge of the Frost Border March territory was surrounded by human farmlands. Coming down from the mountain where the beastkin village was settled, you had to cross a field thick with wild grass before finally reaching the humans' cultivated lands.
—Rustle.
"Hey, keep quiet!"
"Pfft, what's the big deal? We already checked—no humans nearby. As long as we don't stand up and make a racket, this is fine, right?"
"Sigh. What's the point of telling you? Ursa, what do you think? Looks good?"
"...Yeah. Seems okay."
In a wild field a bit away from the human farmlands, what looked like just a patch of grass swaying in the wind hid me and the other beastkin flat on our bellies.
What the hell are we even doing right now...?
What word pairs best with "barbarian"? Everyone's got their own take, but no one would argue against plunder.
So, were we here to plunder the Border March? If that were the case, I might've actually respected it as properly barbaric.
I held my breath to avoid rustling the grass and peeked ahead, lifting my head just a little. Not far off lay the humans' farmlands. If I stood up and ran, I'd reach them in a minute. But the wheat fields were already harvested and empty. Nothing worth plundering. The only things in sight were the straw piles from the harvest, stacked neatly along the edges of the fields—dried yellow straw bleached by the sun.
"Heh heh. Nice. There's a ton."
"We could grab more—no one would notice."
"No way. The Bear Elder said not to get greedy."
The beastkin eyed the mountain-like straw piles, eyes sparkling.
"Haa..."
Yes. We hadn't come down to plunder the territory. We'd come to pilfer straw from those overflowing piles.
...Pilfer. Such a classy word for it.
We were seriously saying crap like, "What's the harm in taking a little straw?" Yeah, we were already doomed.
Still, our justification was solid. The beastkin village wasn't fully built yet—we were always short on materials. Straw was perfect: great insulation for construction, stuffing for pillows and mattresses. But we didn't have any.
To get straw, you'd need to farm wheat first. How were we supposed to do that when we could barely settle down? Even if we planted now, it'd take half a year to harvest.
So our brilliant conclusion: "The humans just finished harvesting, so there's plenty of leftover straw. Let's just borrow a little."
Just a tiny bit. From each pile, unnoticeably. Just enough that the humans wouldn't catch on. We'd pay it back next harvest, right?
And that's how we ended up belly-crawling here.
"Hey."
A low voice came from behind.
"Why'd we even bring Ursa?"
"Yeah, she's so small—she can't carry much."
"No, not that..."
The beastkin, who'd lifted their upper body to scan around, glanced at me.
"Ursa's tiny. If we get caught, from a distance they might think it's just a kid playing in the grass."
"...."
I was lookout, not pilfer crew. My job: stay up front and watch for trouble.
"And most importantly—"
He grinned.
"She's the fastest at running away."
The others nodded. Ah, yeah. Made sense, but it rubbed me the wrong way. I'm not fast at running away—I'm just fast, period. Cheeky bastards.
If we got caught, I'd ditch them all and bolt. Even if I got nabbed, I'd deny knowing these beastkin. What tribe raids an allied territory?
With that resolve, I peered through the grass again. The farmlands were still quiet. Harvest over, so probably downtime. Now, up to the walls in the distance. Focusing, I spotted tiny guards. Plan: wait here, hit during guard shift change.
Operation name: And Then There Were None.
"Not yet? This is getting rough."
"Almost. Hang on a bit."
"Feels like ants gnawing my thigh..."
"Oof."
Waiting so long, focus waned—chatter started behind me. Honestly, I was getting antsy too. The grass kept tickling my face.
"Everyone, focus! Looks like shift change!"
Tiny figures on the wall squirmed. Right on schedule.
"Grab on my signal. Got it?"
"Yeah. One handful per pile."
Finally, the moment the ascending lump met the stationary one below the wall.
"Now! Move! Move! Go, go, hurry!"
On my signal, beastkin charged. Swoosh-swoosh—even running, they stayed low on all fours. Were we secretly a lizard beastkin tribe?
I blanked for a sec at the absurdity, then snapped back, checking the wall. Still shifting—no sign we'd been spotted. They moved slow; five minutes' leeway.
In that time, beastkin snatched handfuls from each pile, clutching straw and sprinting back to the mountain on all fours. Couldn't run carrying on four legs, after all.
My turn to bail soon. Then—
—Swish.
Grass shook—not toward the beastkin, but opposite. I ducked instinctively. What? Wind? No, someone there.
From the tall reeds, a gray lump wriggled out.
Who...?
Too far to tell. Beastkin mostly gone behind me. Check it out? I crept forward, parting grass oh-so-carefully. Step. Another. Close now—the gray lump emerged fully from the reeds.
"...?"
Our eyes met.
Dark gray hair. Familiar face.
"...Marien?"
The gray lump was Marien Arzenhardt, daughter of the Border March.
...Why the hell are you here?
"U-Ursa!"
Frozen in shock, unlike me—Marien lit up, pushing through grass toward me.
"Knew you'd come. Good thing I waited... hehe."
"Wait, Marien, why are you... mmph!"
Marien clapped a hand over my mouth.
"S-Sorry! Your voice was loud... m-might get caught...!"
That's my line.
"...You alone?"
"Yes! Snuck out without telling anyone."
How? No, more importantly—
"...Why?"
"Huh...?"
"Why sneak all the way out here...?"
"Oh...!"
Marien twisted bashfully.
"Y-You didn't come after days of waiting... thought maybe if I waited here, we'd meet... hehe."
...For real?
She'd snuck out alone to this distant wilds for that? Right on the edge of untamed land? Guess growing up sheltered means no sense of danger.
Details on sneaking later—priority: get her home.
"Marien, shouldn't you head back? If we're caught here..."
I glanced worriedly at the walls, urging her. She just beamed.
"Oh, worried about the wall guards? Don't be. They can't see this far. Ah, well, beastkin and human specs differ. Even my sharp eyes see the walls as specks."
Lucky—no getting spotted from here.
...Is it smart farming this far from patrols?
"Then why'd you say we might get caught earlier?"
If the walls couldn't see, no need for caution. Why the dramatics?
"Ah! My butler might come looking... just in case..."
"He'd come here if you're gone?"
What a dedicated butler.
"W-Well... I've come here a lot lately... think he caught on... hehe."
"A lot...? How often?"
"Uh... every three days since last week?"
Insane. At least three times already.
"D-Did I overdo it? Sorry... first friend ever... didn't know boundaries..."
Marien's face fell fast. Guilt stabbed me, though I did nothing wrong.
"Marien. Let's set meet times. Once a week, this spot, this hour. Sound good?"
Otherwise, she'd keep this up till I showed. Better set limits.
"Once a week... yes! Perfect—no suspicion that way!"
"You can sneak out that easy?"
"Ah! Got a secret route only I know. Plus, my sibling's due soon—everyone's distracted. Easier than you'd think."
That fortress-like castle I'd seen? No ant could breach it. Didn't scream "easy."
Secret family bunker or something?
"Sibling. Congrats."
"Hehe... thank you."
We set the next meet, then parted hastily—time wasted already. Short talk for her wait, but she waved smiling.
Way too naive.
The tribe waited at the mountain base, griping worriedly about my delay. I brushed it off.
Mission success. Pilfered straw went to good use.
Thanks, Empire! Thanks, Border March folk!
Why'd Marien wait like that, though?
Pondered, but no good reason. Our bond? Ten minutes in the garden. Too much even for friend-starved.
And sneaking out every three days? Security that lax? Felt free, not imprisoned.
Maybe Border March sent her to spy?
Nah. Too far. Wouldn't risk their only daughter (soon eldest) for beastkin intel.
Then why...?
"Ursa sis. You wash first."
Sonya approached with a water bucket.
"Ah...!"
Face in the water for washing—all mysteries solved.
"Hah... damn it. You again, Ursa?"
Reflected: a beauty unmatched in past or present life! My cursed charm had ensnared an innocent human.
"Aah... what a sinful beastkin I am...!"
"Mom! Ursa sis is bawling again!"
"Don't look, Tamur. Don't make eye contact."
Folks gossiped as I wailed mid-wash. Eh, good enough. Composed myself, finished up.
Then the elders called everyone. Serian looked flushed.
"Attention! Good news and bad. Which first?"
"Bad!"
Better rip the band-aid. How bad could it be?
"Okay. Bad news: some of you bunk in tents for a bit."
"What?!"
Worst news. Village 60% done. Houses up, but interiors unfinished. Still, we'd ditched tents for cozy blankets indoors. Tents again? Life hits harder falling back.
Like my isekai drop from city to wilds!
Why tents? Serian-sis's perfectionism demolish unsatisfying houses?
Chaos rose; Serian jumped in.
"Calm down. There's a reason. Now, good news."
News big enough to offset tent-eviction. How good?
"The away warriors and elders return soon! Sudden influx means space crunch—bear with tents temporarily!"
"What?!"
They're back? The beastkin warriors and five elders I'd only heard of? Huge!