“Dinner is ready,” William shouting.
The smell of the cooked lamb was intoxicating to the three teenage weres as they half walked; half ran into the dining room. With hungry maws salivating at the large rack presented with roasted potatoes, pearl onions, beet salad and other side dishes; Eric, Spencer and Frieda quickly took a seat.
“Is Nate not joining us,” Eric noticing his older brother not present at the dining room table.
“He is with a lady friend,” William answers; “but will be home later. So save some lamb for him.”
“No promises,” Eric grinning as he starts spooning some mashed turnips onto his plate.
“Eric,” Martha looking serious; “there will be some saved for Nate.”
“There are sports drinks in the basement,” William taking a diner roll; “that should hold you three down without having to raid the fridge after.”
“We could always hunt down a buck if we get really hungry,” Spencer gnawing on some lamb; “done it with dad and grandpa one night when we went camping.”
Eric laughs; “now that’s a sight. My white fur stained red and a lobe of raw liver in my gut.”
“Okay,” William shaking his head; “new topic. What happened last night at the were-panther gathering?”
Frieda , Eric and Spencer smile; Knowing full well that apart from one incident, the only thing of note was them enjoying each other to exhaustion.
“Nothing much,” Eric smiling; “Frieda inducted us, we met a few weres, ate some roast beef-“
“And tormented Frieda’s father with our loud lovemaking;” Spencer finishing.
“Aren’t you forgetting,” Frieda chiming in; “Liz Baker.”
“Who,” William and Martha speaking in unison?
“Someone who chose to ignore my father’s warning,” Frieda answering.
“A little after Spencer and myself revealed our fursonas;” Eric speaking; “and older were-panthress tried to hit on me.”
“I take it there are not many white furred were-panthers and hybrids in the were-panther pride,” William stating.
“Eric, Spencer and myself,” Frieda answering;” are the only unique were’s in the pride. Everyone else’s fur is brown, grey or black.”
“But getting back to Liz Baker,” Spencer speaking; “After Eric refused her advances, she started getting forceful by grabbing Eric and mocking me.” Spencer pausing to take a bite of lamb; “Liz found out the hard way in ignoring the word no.”
“What happened,” William looking concerned.
“I knocked the elder were-panthress down and used a move my dad taught me to keep her paralyzed until Benton came by;” Spencer finishes.
“Is that’s it,” Martha chiming in; “anything else we need to know?”
“The head chef that was part of the catering company,” Eric speaking; “is a seven foot fourteen year old werewolf that goes to Moon Lake High.”
“That’s not what your mother is asking,” William speaking; “anything else we need to know as to what happened last night?”
“Apart from Benton expelling Liz,” Eric finishing; “nothing major happened.” Eric grinning, "at least nothing major that didn't involve bedroom fun."
The rest of diner passed in relative silence; with Eric chewing some lamb right off the bone; Frieda couldn’t help but smile.
“The crunchy parts are your fingers,” Frieda looking at Eric.
“Tell that to Spencer,” Eric grins as he sees the werewolf/panther/feline hybrid savage the lamb on the thin bone and tries to suck the marrow from within.
“The best part of the lamb,” Spencer licking her lips; “is inside the bone.”
All three laugh as their green eyes briefly flash in unison. While William and Martha missed seeing Eric’s, Spencer’s and Frieda’s eyes go brighter; they did pick up on the fact that the three’s plates were empty and they weren’t reaching for extra helpings.
“Guess it’s time for dessert,” Martha getting up.
“I think they have their own dessert in mind Martha,” William looking at the three getting fidgety.
“But what about the apple pie in the oven,” Martha collecting the plates?
William getting up as the three love birds starts thundering down into the basement; “they are about to have their own pie.” Holding his wife in his paws; William looks at Martha, “we’ll have the pie ourselves. Our little fun for the night.”
Martha gives a toothy grin through her were-vixen muzzle; “I still need to work on tomorrow’s lesson plans for school.”
“I know,” William helping his wife clean the table; “but if you get them done early,” William grinning.
“You are incorrigible love,” Martha mildly amused; “just for that, you wash the dishes.”
“But what about the pie,” William asks as Martha takes it out of the oven.
“I’ll save you a slice,” Martha grins as she heads upstairs to William's small office to do some work. Martha's were-fox tail swishing playfully as she walked.
“Was I just cock blocked by pie?” William looking stunned.