Racheal trudged toward the food trucks, her body heavy with exhaustion. Her fur was a mess, her makeup smeared, and dark bags hung under her eyes. She spotted the Persian waving her over and forced a tired smile.

“Hey there,” she said weakly. “Was told you had something for me?”

The Persian gave her a concerned look, taking in just how worn out she was. “Doing good, huh? Come on, let’s get you something to eat. I’ll take you home after—I don’t feel right leaving you to fend for yourself.”

Racheal chuckled softly, rubbing at her eyes. “Aww, thanks, sweetie. But what about your bus?” She nodded toward the busy food truck, a small line forming in front of it.

“Oh, I was swamped earlier, but thanks to your help I managed to hire a second chef!” he said proudly, tail flicking with satisfaction.

She smiled faintly as he hurried off, then returned a moment later carrying a massive bowl of nachos drizzled with a sauce of white streaked through with red, yellow, green, and blue swirls. In his other hand was a milkshake—chocolate with bright yellow ribbons, topped with mocha whipped cream, chocolate powder, and a single Cherri Berry on top.

Racheal’s eyes widened. “That looks amazing…” she murmured.

The Persian grinned. “It’s my four-berry blend nachos—Oran, Roseli, Greppa, and Hondew berries, mixed with four cheeses and ground beef. And this—” he lifted the milkshake slightly “—is a chocolate and Sitrus berry mix, mocha whip, and a sprinkle of cocoa powder.”

But Racheal only caught half of what he said. Her vision was blurring, her head feeling light. Before either of them could react, she slumped forward, landing face-first in the nachos and knocking the milkshake to the ground.

“Racheal!” the Persian gasped, quickly pulling her up and brushing her off. He shook her shoulder gently until she groaned and blinked awake.

“Oh no…” she whimpered when she saw the ruined food.

The Persian chuckled softly, relieved she was okay. “Don’t worry about that,” he said, giving her a reassuring kiss on the cheek. “I’ll make another to go. You’re going home.”

A short while later, he came back with a bag and a to-go cup, then helped her into his car. The seat was snug, her soft belly pressing into his side as he buckled her in.

As they drove through the quiet streets, Racheal let out a long yawn and leaned against the window, eyes fluttering shut. The Persian glanced at her and smiled to himself.