Il woke up from the fact that someone poked a fat chicken leg in her face and sentenced that evil aunts should eat well. And if they don’t eat well, they won’t be able to jump so high on the fence and growl loudly. Il waved away the stubborn little hand, and the fried chicken leg hit right in the forehead.

“Eat.” Pheriel tapped the treat against his lips. - Eat.

Il drowsily stared at the boy's round, serious face and again got a chicken leg on the chin.

“Dads said to feed you,” the child waved a meaty leg.

— And where are they? - Il snatched breakfast from...