His back ached. His tail hurt, too.
The mating had dragged on for several grueling hours. Lansi had watched the swirling "snowflakes" in the water gather, dance, and finally disperse across the coral colony. The ocean currents had cleared completely, yet Winsor had shown absolutely no intention of stopping.
From initial compliance to frantic resistance, to physical struggle, and eventually to outright crying, Lansi had been utterly powerless to deter him. The moment Lansi's mind drifted from exhaustion, he would be startled awake by Winsor nipping at his throat, forcibly coaxing him to open up again. Furious, Lansi had bitten him back, but Winsor had only responded with matching, enthusiastic fervor.
By the time Winsor finally stilled, Lansi felt as though his tail no longer belonged to his body. Scattered all around them in the anemone bed was a vast sea of tiny, shimmering pearls.
His lower abdomen felt so heavy and tight that Lansi couldn't stop a series of soft hiccups from escaping his throat. Despite not having eaten a single thing since the fish, he felt entirely full.
Seeing Lansi's tail drooping limply in the water, Winsor finally realized he had gone a bit too far.
"Are you alright?" Winsor asked, leaning in close with genuine concern.
Lansi forced his swollen, tear-stained eyes open. Seeing the utter satisfaction and comfort written across Winsor's face, he couldn't help but let out a long, pathetic whine.
"You bastard..."
Just how long had the dark mermaid been holding back?
Lansi hiccuped again. Taking advantage of Winsor's proximity, he snapped forward and bit the other's shoulder, muttering vaguely against his skin, "I want to go back to the island!"
His sacrifice today had been far too immense. He never should have dove into the sea just for a few shiny pearls and a pretty view!
Winsor pressed a palm against Lansi's lower abdomen, feeling a slight, distinct curve beneath his touch. "Don't you want to clean it out first?"
Lansi's face flushed crimson in a split second. He practically roared at Winsor, "Just take me back to the island right now!"
There was absolutely no way he was going to expel those things out in the open ocean.
*A mermaid's stamina truly is remarkable,* Winsor noted silently to himself. He pressed a gentle kiss to Lansi's forehead, secured his hands around the smaller merman's waist, and began swimming back toward the shore.
Having spent the last of his energy on that roar, Lansi allowed himself to become a human pendant, hanging limply off Winsor's neck. Suspended in a state between half-dreaming and half-waking, he let Winsor carry him through the depths.
After a long swim, the two mermaids finally broke through the waves to the surface. Winsor didn't carry Lansi onto the sand immediately; instead, he insisted on helping Lansi clean up right there in the shallows.
The moments during which he was violently slapped by Lansi's tail need not be detailed. Suffice it to say, it was a lively process.
Winsor, however, was genuinely perplexed. "Didn't you enjoy it too?"
Lansi's face burned, fresh tears welling in his eyes. "But you bullied me! I kept saying no!"
Winsor looked thoughtful. After a brief silence, he asked with total seriousness, "But I read a book that said during these matters, when the other party says 'no,' they actually mean 'yes.'"
Lansi's face twisted into an expression of sheer horror. "Why on earth would you read that kind of book? No—wait—who even gave you a book like that?!"
Winsor thought about it for a moment, then sold out his past acquaintance without a shred of hesitation. "Back when I was Wen Yu, Carl bought me a romance and dating guide." Winsor then added, looking remarkably slighted, "Humans are so strange."
It seemed Winsor had finally discovered that theory and practice were two entirely different concepts.
Lansi: "..."
*What the hell were you doing reading that trash? Weirdo.*
"I will teach you properly later," Lansi said, patting Winsor on the shoulder with immense gravity. "Do not read those bizarre relationship counseling books ever again."
"Alright," Winsor agreed with a nod. "Then... does this mean our date was a success?"
"O-of course it counts!" Lansi's blush deepened. He really hadn't expected Winsor to be so aggressively straightforward about the status of their relationship. "Let's just go back."
Having recovered a fraction of his strength, Lansi attempted to swim the remaining distance on his own. However, the moment he flexed his tail, a sharp ache shot up his spine. Left with no choice, he had to resume his role as Winsor's personal neck accessory.
As they neared the beach, Lansi clutched Winsor's arm tightly and warned him earnestly, "Do not tell the turtles about this."
Winsor let out a low chuckle. "Tell them what?"
Lansi struggled internally for a few agonizing moments before huffing, "Just don't say anything at all!"
He was simply dying of embarrassment.
How on earth did going back to see the little turtle with Winsor manage to feel exactly like bringing your boyfriend home to meet your parents after a disastrously public first date?
As it turned out, Lansi had completely forgotten that the little turtle was a seasoned romantic veteran who used to gallop through the dating world themselves. The moment Lansi and Winsor arrived back on the island, they spotted the little turtle and the little seagull already standing in wait atop the rocks.
The little seagull had somehow procured a small party popper. Seeing Lansi return, the sea turtle pulled the string, and with a loud *pop*, colorful bits of paper exploded into the air.
`[CONGRATULATIONS—]`
Lansi: "..."
Winsor, on the other hand, accepted the celebration with immense pleasure. "Thank you. The two of us are officially together now."
Lansi: "..."
`[BE—GENTLE—LANSI—IS—DELICATE—EXERCISE—SOME—RESTRAINT—]` the little turtle lectured Winsor earnestly. `[DON'T—GET—TOO—WILD—PLAYING—AROUND—]`
At those words, Lansi's face burned so hot he thought blood might start pumping out of his ears.
How could he have forgotten the tooth marks he had gnawed into Winsor? Lansi sneaked a glance over and realized that while the other marks on Winsor's body had long since healed, a particularly obvious bite mark on his shoulder remained completely visible. Anyone with eyes would know exactly what had happened at a single glance.
Lansi thought, not for the first time, that he truly hated how mermaids never wore clothes.
"Aren't you tired? Go to sleep if you're exhausted," Winsor said, stepping in with timely empathy when he saw that Lansi was so embarrassed he looked ready to dig a hole and bury himself alive.
"I didn't even break the skin," Lansi muttered defensively. He dragged his fish tail toward the small nest he had built on the island, watching Winsor spread out the blanket.
From time to time, his gaze drifted back to Winsor's shoulder. Lansi couldn't understand it; given a mermaid's terrifyingly fast cell-regeneration capabilities, why on earth hadn't the wound on Winsor's shoulder healed yet?
Too exhausted to bother changing his fish tail back into legs, Lansi collapsed directly onto the blanket. Once Winsor lay down beside him, Lansi reached out to touch Winsor's shoulder, tracing the light-colored imprint.
"Do you actually scar?" Lansi asked.
Winsor let out a soft cough, his black fish tail lightly hooking around Lansi's white one. "Sleep," he murmured evasively.
Above them, the shadows of the palm trees swayed softly. The air carried the distinct, crisp scent of the sea, and the ocean breeze blew past in warm, gentle gusts. The faint, rhythmic sound of waves lapping against the shore filled the quiet afternoon. With Winsor right beside him, Lansi relaxed completely, closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep.
He was truly spent.
Winsor remained awake, watching Lansi's sleeping form. In reality, creatures of their caliber didn't actually require sleep. For them, sleep was more of a psychological escape from the weight of endless, stretching time.
Now, Lansi was curled up on the blanket, his back turned toward him. From Winsor's vantage point, he could see the elegant, slight curve of Lansi's spine and the beautiful, toned contours of his muscles shifting subtly with each breath.
To Winsor, the sleeping Lansi felt like a delicate pastry displayed in a glass bakery case. The very air around him seemed to ferment with a comforting, sweet fragrance that made Winsor feel a wave of secondhand drowsiness just by looking at him.
Winsor couldn't resist leaning forward, his fingers gently brushing against the fine white scales dusting Lansi's waist. Then, he softly swept Lansi's white hair aside, exposing a small patch of bare skin at the nape of his neck to press a tender kiss against it.
The realization that someone loved him was incredibly beautiful. Winsor gathered Lansi into his arms, cradling him as if he were holding a priceless pearl. He narrowed his eyes and closed them contentedly.
*This one is mine,* he thought.
…
Under normal circumstances, Winsor's mental tentacles would never infiltrate another mind so carelessly.
After evolving from a cosmic entity into a sentient being capable of human emotion—whether as Winsor or as Wen Yu—he had inevitably learned a few things under Lansi's tutelage. He knew that if he wanted to truly be with Lansi, he had to learn to treat him as an equal. Therefore, even though his core cells allowed him to effortlessly invade the consciousness of any living creature he had created, Winsor would never do so intentionally.
Using that power would strip away all boundaries, leaving no mysteries between them. It was ultimately a very tedious way to live.
But this time, Winsor was surprised to find himself slipping into Lansi's dream without meaning to. Lansi was completely unguarded, leaving the gates to his subconscious wide open.
This was Lansi's dream—or more precisely, his sea of consciousness.
Since the sea of consciousness is the landscape of the subconscious mind, it serves as the ultimate mirror for a person's true character. Here, Lansi's inner world was reflected with absolute clarity:
A vibrant expanse of green grass stretching beneath a warm sun, framed by a brilliant blue sky, white clouds, and a gentle breeze.
Winsor stepped onto the lawn, hesitating over whether he should seek out Lansi. To approach him now meant navigating directly into Lansi's subconscious, where Lansi would unwittingly lay bare his rawest thoughts and deepest, most latent desires.
To venture forward or to turn back—it was a choice hanging entirely on a single thread of thought. For Winsor, this moment was as if Lansi had accidentally dropped his private diary right at Winsor's feet. Whether to read it or not depended solely on whether Winsor was willing to bend down and pick it up.
After a brief internal struggle, curiosity ultimately won out over the dark mermaid's restraint. He walked toward the heart of the grassland, seeking the core of Lansi's subconscious.
Even a non-human entity is prone to a touch of vulnerability when in love. Precisely because he wasn't human, Winsor felt an consuming urge to know exactly how he was perceived through Lansi's eyes.
However, as he crested a small hill and looked down into the valley below, Winsor's lips pressed into a tight, hard line, his expression turning deeply unreadable.
The surrounding hills formed a secluded basin. At the center of the valley, the grass gave way to a floor of pure, pristine white. Lying right in the middle of this trough was a white mermaid, curled up asleep on his side.
There was no question that this was Lansi. This was the absolute core of his dream.
The reason for Winsor's sudden frown did not stem from Lansi himself, but rather from the mass of black sludge clinging to Lansi's body. This lump of muck was an undeniable foreign anomaly. It clung tightly to Lansi, trying to corrupt him, its form shifting from time to time into a bizarre, distorted human silhouette.
Winsor stared at the sludge, a wave of profound confusion washing over his features. He felt an intuitive, haunting sense of familiarity radiating from the dark mass.
Spurred by this suspicion, Winsor chose not to destroy the entity immediately. Instead, he slowly descended the slope until he stood just a few meters away from Lansi, studying the shifting anomaly.
"Ah..."
The sludge lifted its head. It rolled and condensed, knitting itself together into a more distinct human shape. It "looked" toward Winsor, letting out a cryptic, low vocalization.
"What are you?" Winsor demanded, forcefully suppressing his instinct to vaporize the creature on the spot. He could intuitively sense that, for some strange reason, the sludge wasn't actively harming Lansi.
Hearing Winsor's question, the creature began to quiver. It was laughing.
The black mud roiled across its form, and the dark mucus that had been creeping down Lansi's white fish tail gradually receded, drawing back into the main mass. Amid a thick, churning sound, the sludge began to violently remold its features—until it formed a face almost identical to Winsor's own.
"My name is Will," the entity spoke. His voice was a flawless mimicry of Winsor's own tone, yet he addressed the dark mermaid with an arrogant, unhinged expression that Winsor himself would never wear. "This is the first time we've met."
Hearing Will speak in such an overtly defiant, presumptuous manner stirred a subtle, jarring sensation in Winsor's chest. He remained silent, keeping his piercing, scrutinizing gaze locked on the clone.
"It looks like you already know who I am," Will chuckled, his smile curving up into a mocking, theatrical smirk. His lips gleamed an unnatural, vivid red. Set against an otherwise flawless face, the expression made him look utterly demonic.
"You are a piece of me," Winsor said coldly. "But your thoughts are not under my control."
The moment the words left his mouth, an invisible, crushing wave of aura slammed down upon Will.
Will instantly gasped as the mental tentacles he had been stealthily threading outward were violently incinerated by the pressure. *So this is the power of the original host...*
Will's pupils snapped shut. He immediately retracted every single thread of his probing consciousness. He knew with absolute certainty that if he didn't tread carefully, Winsor could erase him from existence right here and now.
"You love Lansi," Will forced out, straining against the suffocating pressure. "I am the manifestation of your most repressed emotions. I know exactly what dark desires you hide in your heart... That is the very reason for my birth."
The crushing atmosphere suddenly eased. Winsor lowered his eyes, temporarily breaking the direct clash of wills.
Granted a moment to breathe, Will let out a string of low, mocking chuckles. "It seems you really do know."
Slowly, the shadow beneath Winsor's feet began to warp and stretch, creeping across the white floor until it bled directly into Will's form. Infused with this shadow, Will's body became significantly more solid and defined.
He leaned in, his voice dripping with venomous temptation. "You don't actually need to care what anyone else thinks. You are the absolute master of this world, aren't you?"
Born from the darkest, most negative facets of Winsor's psyche, Will understood his host's hidden impulses better than anyone.
"I truly don't understand why you suppress your true nature just for Lansi's sake," Will whispered conspiratorially. "You've wanted to do it for a long time now, haven't you? To lock Lansi away. To imprison him in the deepest trenches of the ocean, where his entire world is reduced to you, and you alone!
Will knew that at the very beginning, Winsor really had thought that way.
Winsor had even fantasized about keeping Lansi trapped inside that small coral grave, watching him until the day he died. He had imagined watching this beautiful white fish resting motionless on the sea sand until he rotted, eventually dissolving entirely to become one with the ocean.
And what would have been wrong with that?
After all, Lansi had only been able to transform into a white mermaid because he was sustained by Winsor's own cells. Since Winsor was the one who had given Lansi life, it was only natural that he could claim his death.
Furthermore, if he had just done that, there wouldn't be so many complicated, troublesome matters to deal with now. The most exquisite part of the fantasy was that Winsor would be the only soul left in the entire universe who knew such a breathtaking creature had ever existed.
On countless late nights, Winsor had pondered this exact dark impulse, though he had never brought it to fruition. He had fiercely suppressed the gloomy desire, leaving it to fester like a stagnant swamp hidden deep away from the sun.
And now, Will's entire purpose was to mercilessly drag that hidden swamp out into the light, using it to pull Winsor under.
"Are you truly unwilling?"
Seeing that Winsor was still fighting the pull, Will tilted his head with a mocking grin. "But your heart isn't completely rejecting me... I know you, Winsor. I know you better than anyone else."
Will reached out, tenderly stroking Lansi's hair in a perfect mimicry of Winsor's habitual gesture. He continued seamlessly, "If you don't care for that specific approach, we can always be gentler. We can simply manipulate Lansi. Turn him into our dear, sweet doll."
*A doll.* A puppet to be handled entirely by them. Beautiful, docile, and completely under their control.
Hearing the word "doll," the fingers of Winsor's hand hanging at his side suddenly twitched.
"Lansi really is quite a handful," Will murmured. "He always manages to stir up trouble with things we shouldn't be provoking while we are asleep, doesn't he?"
Winsor couldn't stop his mind from following the dark path Will was carving out. It was true. First, there was the manifestation of various sea monsters, and now, there were humans.
If he were to enter a much longer slumber next time, would Lansi fall in love with someone else? Humans were volatile creatures driven entirely by shifting emotions; it was in their nature to be spurred by hormones to seek out a new partner the moment a previous relationship ended.
To Winsor, that realization was utterly unacceptable. He was Lansi's creator. As his god, how could Lansi ever allow himself to be tempted by lesser things?
"Yes... just like that." Will offered Winsor a sharp, mocking smile.
The darkness beneath their feet began to spread rapidly, creeping toward Winsor until the black muck entirely swallowed his feet. A churning, shadowy swamp materialized beneath the dark mermaid. Little by little, he was being consumed by his own repressed malice.
Even a cosmic entity capable of transcending space like Winsor was left vulnerable when forced to confront his own darkest shadow. His thoughts began to stagnate. Unholy impulses sprouted like choking weeds in his heart, devouring his hard-won memories and emotions until his full heart was reduced to a hollow void once more.
*It has been so many years...*
The mere thought that the only creature capable of bringing him satisfaction might leave him caused Winsor to press a hand over his heart. To lose his unique, irreplaceable connection with Lansi was a fate far more agonizing than facing death itself.
*Hiss—*
Dark, corrupted tendrils stretched out from the swamp below, dividing into countless shadow tentacles that began to wrap around Winsor's form.
Watching the corruption take hold, the corners of Will's lips curled up into a triumphant smirk. "I know you. After all, I *am* you. He will become a doll for the two of us. A docile, pleasing little toy."
Even if this was merely a battle of spirits within the sea of consciousness, if Will successfully merged with Winsor here, he could completely usurp control of Winsor's physical body and execute his grand design. Will firmly believed that no living being possessed the strength to resist their own darkest desires.
Especially Winsor. He had been awake for far too long—why shouldn't he finally indulge himself?
Just as the shadowy tendrils were about to swallow Winsor completely, a sudden, violent swish of a tail caught Will entirely off guard, sending him spinning through the air.
"You're the only puppet here!"
Lansi had broken free from Will's paralysis and awakened without either of them noticing.
Seeing Will standing there covered in a highly suspicious, unidentified black slime, Lansi had waited until the clone's attention was fully anchored on Winsor. Then, utilizing one hundred percent of his strength, he had slammed his massive fish tail directly into Will's face.
"I am Lansi! I am not your doll!"
The sheer kinetic force behind the mermaid's tail was terrifying. The single, brutal strike completely shattered Will's head into pieces.
Yes, it had completely shattered. Will's head dissolved instantly into a pathetic puddle of mud.
If this had been the physical world, a tail strike of that magnitude would have launched his head flying like a cannonball.
This sudden, violent disruption caused a temporary lag in Will's cognitive functions. That single loophole was all Lansi needed to completely seize control of the entire dreamscape. After all, within his own mind, he was the absolute master of reality.
On the nearby lawn, thick emerald vines suddenly erupted from the soil. They coiled aggressively around Will, dragging the roiling mass backward and binding him tightly into a neat, compressed ball.
With his arms akimbo, Lansi stared down at the bound sphere of sludge for a moment before turning his gaze toward Winsor.
The moment Lansi captured Will, Winsor had snapped awake from his trance. He broke free from the suffocating pull of the dark swamp. By the time Lansi looked over, the dark mermaid was kneeling on the grass, clutching at his chest as he violently gasped for air.
Being abruptly submerged in the entirety of one's repressed, venomous emotions was a sensation no different from drowning. Winsor had been on the very precipice of total bewitchment.
When Winsor finally managed to lift his head, he saw Lansi slowly approaching him.
*What will Lansi think of me now?*
The agonizing question echoed through Winsor's mind. What would Lansi think now that he had been exposed to all of Winsor's hidden gloom, his possessiveness, and his most shameful, predatory desires? Would he look at him with disgust? Would he leave him forever?
"Did you... hear all of it?" Winsor's voice was incredibly dry, the residual negative emotions still surging violently through his veins.
A dark, desperate thought even began to claw its way to the surface: *If Lansi tries to leave me, I will kill him right here. Then, I will destroy this entire planet.*
This was exactly where Will's true brilliance lay. It didn't matter if Winsor successfully resisted being consumed by the swamp; if Lansi chose to reject Winsor after witnessing his darkness, Will would still achieve his ultimate victory.
"So you want to turn me into a doll."
Lansi's comprehension skills had always been outstanding. He uttered the words flatly, his face entirely devoid of expression.
Winsor's pupils darkened into deep, bottomless pools. He offered no excuses, merely nodding in grim confirmation.
*Let this world burn to ash,* he thought wearily.
"Then tell me, do you have any idea just how ridiculously expensive a BJD doll actually is?" Lansi barked out abruptly.
"...What?" Winsor's apocalyptic fury was instantly derailed by the sheer absurdity of the question.
A BJD... what?
Lansi began counting down on his fingers, completely ignoring the cosmic tension. "Humans love playing with dolls, too. They play this game where they constantly buy them new outfits. A single, high-quality outfit set can easily cost tens of thousands, not to mention all the miscellaneous props and accessories you have to buy!"
Lansi ran a rough mental calculation of the expenses, a look of profound, worldly exhaustion washing over his face. "If we're keeping score, I'm supposed to be an incredibly rare, limited-edition mermaid doll. And what do I get? Absolutely nothing."
If he really tallied up his current assets, his entire world consisted of a deserted island packed to the brim with literal second-hand junk.
Winsor: "..."
He didn't entirely understand the concept. However, he successfully processed the core message: Lansi was criticizing him for harboring desires to play with dolls when he didn't even have the funds to support such an expensive hobby.
Lansi continued to ramble, adjusting the imaginary financial ledger in his head. Once he noticed the heavy gloom between Winsor's eyebrows finally begin to dissipate, he secretly breathed a massive sigh of relief.
He reached out, cupping Winsor's face in his hands, and planted a loud, exaggerated kiss right on his lips. "Don't worry," Lansi whispered softly. "I'm not going to leave you."
At that, the perpetually calm, stoic Winsor felt a wave of heat rush to his face, his skin flushing crimson at a speed visible to the naked eye. He quickly lowered his eyes, completely breaking afield from Lansi's piercing gaze.
After a long pause, Winsor managed to let out a small, muffled, "Mmh."
"Oh, wait! I finally remember now!" Lansi exclaimed, entirely oblivious to the fact that his budgeting complaints had just saved the planet from total annihilation. He turned to Winsor, venting his frustration. "It was him! He's the one who sneaked into my dream the first time!"
Lansi waved his hand casually, intending to command the vines to hoist the bound sphere containing Will into the air. Instead, his hand gestured into completely empty space.
Eh?
The two mermaids blinked and looked closer. The vines were empty; there was nothing there.
It was only then that Lansi and Winsor realized Will had utilized the brief window of their conversation to slip out of his bindings and flee.
Winsor: "..."
Lansi: "..."
*Good god. It was exactly like last time. Has this guy allocated every single one of his evolutionary skill points into escape tactics?*
Regardless of Will's cowardly retreat, his departure allowed Lansi's sea of consciousness to settle back into its natural state. The vibrant green grass rippled outward once more, releasing a crisp, refreshing herbal scent into the air. Tiny, cheerful yellow flowers rapidly bloomed across the landscape, tilting their heads warmly toward Winsor and Lansi.
"This really is my dream, isn't it?" Lansi observed, looking around the shifting environment with immense fascination. It was his very first time remaining fully lucid inside a dream, witnessing his own thoughts materialize before his eyes.
Winsor rubbed the bridge of his nose, sitting down cross-legged on the lawn. Feeling the gentle, radiant warmth of Lansi's inner world, he smiled softly. "Yes. This world belongs entirely to you."
Lansi had always been an incurable optimist. He instantly tossed the unsettling mystery of Will to the back of his mind and proceeded to throw himself sideways, gleefully rolling around across the dreamland grass.
He hadn't bothered to tuck his massive white fish tail away, so as he rolled, the heavy appendage flopped and thwacked comically against the turf, creating a thoroughly ridiculous sight.
Winsor sat quietly on the sidelines, watching Lansi's delightfully childish antics. Infected by the pure, unadulterated joy radiating from the smaller merman, the last remnants of his dark mood vanished, replaced by a soft, genuine smile.
"By the way... since this is *my* dream, that means I can do whatever I want here, right?" Lansi noted, suddenly sitting upright. He turned his head, casting a thoroughly mischievous, wicked glare directly at Winsor.
Winsor: ? ? ?
*Boom!*
A dense puff of white smoke exploded out of nowhere. When the haze cleared, the powerful, cosmic dark mermaid who had been sitting on the grass was completely gone. In his place sat a very confused, fluffy black sheep.
This sheep was truly, utterly black—boasting pitch-black fleece, deep black eyes, and a pair of dark, curling horns.
Though it felt ridiculous to think it, one could clearly read an expression of absolute, unadulterated shock written all over the animal's face. The sheep was also gargantuan in size, though that might have simply been an illusion caused by its incredibly thick, fluffy coat, which made the creature visually balloon into a giant ball of wool.
"How did it turn out completely black?" Lansi smacked his lips at the beast before him, offering a slight click of disappointment.
But his critique was short-lived. A second later, he let out a joyful cheer, lunged toward the black sheep with a soft *poof*, and buried himself face-first into the mountain of fluff.
The black sheep: "..."
Seeing Lansi submerge the upper half of his body entirely into the dark wool, leaving nothing but a white tail fin flopping helplessly on the outside, Winsor felt a metaphorical row of black lines slide down his face. Worried that Lansi might actually choke on the dense fleece, he instinctively opened his mouth to ask if he was alright.
"Baaah~~~"
Winsor: "..."
He officially hated sheep. Even a giant octopus would have been better than this.