Fabre in Sacheon’s Tang Novel - Chapter 369

Chapter 369
“No, So-ryong, you don’t understand… Look closely, it does have a little fur… like on its stomach, and…”

Sister Seol was straining to find fault with the animal, claiming it had fur—but that wasn’t true.

I knew exactly what this creature was modeled after. The pangolin.

A peculiar mammal, nearly devoid of hair. In my past life, even though it wasn’t poisonous, I had genuinely wanted to keep one.

Naturally, that never happened.

Because of its extensive use in traditional remedies, it was pushed to the brink of extinction, and trading it internationally was completely prohibited.

‘Honestly. What kind of person decides to eat something that adorable?’

While there are other hairless animals—like sphynx cats—my fascination with this one was for a different reason.

Not only was it hairless, but its back was encased in a shell reminiscent of certain reptiles—it brought to mind dinosaurs, the ancient forebears of reptiles.

Its back was shielded with keratin, the same substance found in nails and hair, making it impossible to tell at a glance if it was a mammal, a reptile, or some kind of dinosaur.

A formidable creature clad in segmented armor.

That is a pangolin.

To be fair, ordinary pangolins, as Sister Seol mentioned, do possess some hair.

There is fine fur nestled between the scales on their backs and around their undersides.

But the one lying before us? Completely devoid of any fur.

Its visible belly, flanks, and face were utterly smooth.

As if it had been polished.

If a little fur had made me hesitate before, this one was perfect.

I’ve let Sister Seol have many creatures so far, but this one?

I wasn’t giving this one up.

Its looks alone were sufficient to captivate this Spicy Fabre.

‘No fur? Then it’s a reptile. My apologies, Sister Seol. I’m keeping this one.’

Furthermore, this one was venomous.

It was counted among the venomous beasts in the Secret Compendium of the World’s Venomous Creatures: the 24 Venom Beasts.

It symbolized the “snow” within the four-character idiom: Cloud, Rain, Snow, and Hail.

A pangolin of pure white.

The White Snow Shell.

That was its true name.

The creature before us matched the description of the White Snow Shell from the Compendium in every detail.

The text didn’t specify its exact venom, but its inclusion among the 24 was confirmation enough of its toxicity.

“You know how coarse their fur feels, don’t you? And the odor! They smell terrible! Plus, they have no teeth, which makes feeding them so difficult.”

Sister Seol was now listing every disadvantage she could conjure.

She wasn’t incorrect—common pangolins emit a potent smell when scared, and they lack teeth. They consume ants by gathering them with a lengthy, sticky tongue.

But in reality, none of that was a significant issue.

If defensive odor was a problem, our Ranghyang was much the same.

And regarding food? Hadn’t I established a termite colony behind the Tang family’s mountain?

Even if it is a spirit beast and might not need physical food, if it did, that issue was already resolved.

Simply offer it termites.

“And also… well… you know…”

Having exhausted her arguments, Sister Seol started repeating herself.

It was time to change the subject.

We were just going in circles, and arguing wasn’t productive—we needed to attend to the creature first.

“We can decide who keeps it later, Sister Seol. Let’s help this little one first.”

“Huh? Oh, yes! Don’t fret, I’m excellent with animals!”

“Approach cautiously. You recall the front claws, right?”

While the pangolin is a peaceful, toothless insect-eater, it possesses lengthy, keen claws for excavating ant nests.

Its front claws are exceptionally powerful and sharp, adapted for tearing into soil and termite mounds.

The claw marks we observed in the cave? They were clear evidence of that.

They are primarily digging tools, certainly, but if it struck out in fury? That would be a different matter entirely.

Those claws could inflict serious harm.

“Naturally. I was curious about those earlier—they must have been from its front legs.”

Sister Seol and I moved cautiously toward the creature, which remained unconscious with its long tongue drooping.

She prodded it softly a few times, but it didn’t stir.

Completely unconscious.

We both knelt beside it and started a thorough inspection.

Were there any injuries? Was it bleeding internally?

As I scrutinized its body, Sister Seol suddenly cocked her head.

“Hm? That’s odd.”

She had only just begun her examination, but something already seemed unusual to her.

“What is it?”

“Wait a moment.”

She asked me to hold on and continued her inspection more meticulously.

After a short while, Sister Seol spoke, her voice laced with worry.

“She’s exhausted.”

“Exhausted?”

“Yes. She doesn’t appear wounded or ill, but look—her belly has no firmness. And her tongue is just hanging out.”

Exhaustion suggested she had been without food or water for a long time—or had endured severe strain.

As Sister Seol looked over the creature’s tucked-under belly again, she whispered,

“This is strange…”

She said it again.

“What is?”

I pressed her for an explanation, and she finally indicated its stomach.

“Look. See here? Can you see her nipples?”

“Oh? Ah… yes…”

“Look at this one—it’s enlarged.”

“It’s… enlarged?”

I looked more closely—and it was true.

Swollen.

That indicated she was lactating. And if she was producing milk, it meant she had an infant.

One nipple was also slightly extended—likely from a pup nursing there recently.

When infants feed frequently, the nipples can stretch temporarily.

And if she was exhausted? That fit perfectly.

Mothers can become fatigued from nursing when they are malnourished or have a large number of young.

I recalled videos from my previous life of stray cats found collapsed in alleyways, overcome from the strain of feeding their kittens.

If this was a similar situation, it all made sense.

“If her milk is in, doesn’t that mean she has a baby? And if she’s collapsed from exhaustion, perhaps it’s because she’s been nursing excessively while in poor health—!”

“!”

An invisible exclamation point seemed to form above Sister Seol’s head.

Her eyes met mine, she swiftly scanned our surroundings, and said,

“So-ryong, I’ll search deeper inside! You check the area around the entrance!”

“Understood, Sister Seol!”

We separated—she headed further into the cave, while I checked near the entrance.

But there was nothing at the entrance.

We had been close to it the entire time, and there had been no indication of another presence.

“Nothing near the entrance. Let’s search the interior together, Sister Seol.”

“Alright!”

We promptly combed the inner part of the cave—but found no trace of a pup.

The cave wasn’t very deep. The rear, like the entrance, was blocked by ice.

There was no path, no disruption between the two icy barriers.

No hint of a concealed spot. No sign of the pup.

“What in the world? I’m certain she has one, right?”

“Yes, Sister Seol. It’s puzzling… why can’t we find it?”

We abandoned the search and went back to the exhausted creature.

Just as we settled beside her again—

The instant Sister Seol sat down squarely in front of her…

A peculiar sound came from near its tail.

-BBEEEEEH!

Startled, we looked toward the tail of the unconscious creature—and noticed a white, lump-like object attached to the underside.

Sister Seol reached out and touched it gently—and the lump shuddered, emitting a sharp, distressed cry.

-BBEEH! BBEEEEH!

Upon closer inspection, the white lump turned out to be…

The White Snow Shell’s newborn pup.

It seemed to have been born very recently.

“Waaaaaaah!”

“Waaaahh! It’s so adorable!!”

Sister Seol and I exclaimed simultaneously, utterly astonished.

***

Its protective shell wasn’t fully formed yet, so the infant resembled a small lizard more than anything.

A snow-pale white lizard.

It was so young and small that its scales hadn’t fully developed, lending it the look of a smooth-skinned lizard.

Pangolin babies grow more substantial, harder armor as they mature, but when newborn, their backs are covered in softer, scale-like skin.

“So precious.”

—Bbaaaah!

“We mean you no harm, little one. We’re here to assist. You were anxious about your mother, weren’t you? Be at ease, we will help her.”

Sister Seol spoke in a hushed, soothing tone, trying to calm the pup.

But unlike its mother, the baby was still awake.

However, its state didn’t appear much better.

With the mother too drained to feed it, the pup also seemed close to collapsing.

It was breathing weakly, its tongue partially extended.

Sister Seol nudged me and glanced over.

[But how do we actually treat it?]
[Yes… that is the question.]

Despite her reassuring words, Sister Seol’s face showed her concern.

And I felt the same.

Regular exhaustion might be alleviated with water and some salts, but this was a spirit beast. Moreover, it was aligned with cold energy. I had no clue how to help a White Snow Shell recuperate.

We didn’t know its diet. If, as a spirit beast, it subsisted solely on energy, there was no clear method to revive it from exhaustion.

As I was pondering, searching for an answer—

A realization suddenly hit me.

“So, we can assume her exhaustion is from caring for the pup, correct?”

“Yes. But… doesn’t something seem unusual to you?”

“You feel it too?”

When I asked, Sister Seol nodded, as if she had been contemplating the same thing.

“There are too few pups.”

“Precisely.”

For a mother to collapse from exhaustion while rearing young, there would typically be several offspring.

Maternal fatigue usually stems from the effort of feeding multiple mouths.

If the mother lacked sufficient nutrients for milk production, nourishing a big litter would drain her strength.

But she only had one pup.

Could that alone have brought her to this state?

“Does this one have a massive appetite or something?”

“It doesn’t appear so, does it?”

The small, fragile creature didn’t look like it could consume very much.

—Plop.

Just then, a drop of melting water fell from the ceiling onto my nose, and everything fell into place.

“Ah!”

An exhausted mother. A single pup. Caves changing location. Thawing ice.

Retracing the chain of events in my head, I began to understand the root cause.

I leaned out of the cave and called to Hwa-eun.

“Hwa-eun, could you see if the nearby caves show evidence of human presence? Checking just one or two should suffice.”

“Understood, So-ryong.”

Hwa-eun sped off with Cho and Yeondu, and Sister Seol turned to me.

“What is it, So-ryong? Did you deduce something?”

“The herb gatherer mentioned that ice kept appearing and disappearing in the high caves. As if it was shifting from one spot to another.”

“Yes, that’s what they reported.”

“Right. So if the White Snow Shell was indeed moving between caves, I believe I know why she collapsed.
She likely would have sealed a cave entrance to raise her young inside, but as people kept approaching, she was forced to repeatedly move to more secure locations. Each move required her to expend energy to freeze the new cave, leading to her utter exhaustion.”

“Ooooh! That makes perfect sense!”

My hypothesis was that she had blocked off a cave for her pup, but increasing human activity nearby compelled her to relocate again and again.

Each relocation demanded a massive output of cold energy to seal the new cave—until she eventually broke down.

Shortly after, Hwa-eun returned with her report.

“So-ryong, you were correct. Every cave showed signs of people. It looked like herb collectors had made fires at the entrances.”

This all but confirmed my theory.

“So, how do we treat her?”

At Sister Seol’s question, I looked toward Hwa-eun and spoke.

“We likely need to replenish the energy she expended… Seol-ah!”

At my call, Seol °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° peered out from within Hwa-eun’s robe.

—Kkuu? 『Yes, Father?』

In essence, the White Snow Shell was probably drained because her internal reserve of cold energy was depleted.

Therefore, wouldn’t Seol’s innate ability—her command over cold-type energy—be able to restore it?

That was the notion that occurred to me.