Sunny kept his head down, focused entirely on his food, and ignored him.
Setan leaned closer. "Sunny, look. Your father made your favorite meatballs. How about I feed them to you?"
Sunny shot him a disdainful look, then turned his head toward Sal and gestured: Papa Sal, I want the vegetable puree. You feed me.
Hmph. Bad lion. Don't think you can win me over with food. I won't forgive you that easily.
A playful smirk tugged at Sal's lips. "Alright. Papa Sal will feed you right now. What else would you like?"
That foolish lion had truly crossed Sunny last time, and the cub had been ignoring him ever since.
Sunny thought for a moment, then gestured: I want some egg custard too.
Setan slumped his shoulders in disappointment. Stupid cub. We're lions; why are you eating vegetables? Predators should eat meat. He sighed internally. Why did Idir's food peace-offerings always work flawlessly, while his own fell entirely flat?
