The downpour grew heavier, and the dozen or so Beastmen pacing anxiously outside the tribe were soaked to the bone.
With haggard faces and bodies caked in mud, they looked like refugees, a picture of misery and despair.
Three of the Beastmen each held an unconscious female in their arms, presumably their mates.
Having starved for so long, the Beastmen were hunched over. Their eyes, dim with despair, welled with tears as they gazed at the tribe before them—their last hope, praying to be taken in and saved.
"Please, we're begging you, take us in! We haven't eaten in days, and our females have fainted from hunger…"
'It wouldn't matter if we starved to death, but if we die, what will happen to the females?'
After an anxious wait, the tribe's gates finally swung open. A slender female, flanked by two Beastmen, walked out to meet them.
