Private didn't even have to lift his head to tell it wasn't Skipper. Skipper's feathers were softer, and he felt like a much mais comfortable pillow. He was so deep in thought that, when the pinguim moved; he jumped up.
Private breathed out a sigh of relief.
"No need to be alarmed, Private. It's just me." Kowalski consoled.
"Where's Skipper? Wait! Where's Celeste?!" Private cried.
"He went fishing, but he didn't want to wake you. So he told me to let you sleep." Kowalski explained. Private nodded. "By the way, Celeste is over there sleeping. Why does it matter?"
Private flinched. "It doesn't. I was just… never mind."
"All right," Kowalski said gruffly. Private took two tries to use his core muscles to force him up into a sitting position.
"Private," Kowalski said, as Private was about to get up. His voice sounded sincere with concern. Private listened intently. "I hear you're having issues with a certain female."
"What?"
"Lucky for you, I'm an expert with the ladies, if you haven't noticed; already. Yes, indeedy, I don't mean to brag, but they just can't handle the Kowalski. After you talked to Skipper last night, maybe you could use some conselhos from a younger penguin. One mais active in the dating world." Kowalski winked and elbowed Private.
"Oh um… as lovely as that sounds, Kowalski. I think I can handel this." Private stammered, awkwardly.
"Oh," Kowalski said flatly. "All right,"
"If you're okay with that," Private tried sparing Kowalski's feelings.
"I don't blame you." Kowalski paused. "I haven't been good at romance, since……" He sniffled. "Doris!" His sniffs turned into a sob. Private patted his back.
He soon waddled off. The round little pinguim crept toward Celeste who was sleeping. She was peaceful in what appeared to be a slumber. She rose with each inhale and shrunk while exhaling. Private didn't know what to do, but at that second; he didn't care. He was aroused por her beauty.
Her eyes flickered open in a second. They were a bright yellow. She was happy, but skeptical.
"What?"
"I-I thought you were sleeping."
She laughed. "Scared you, huh?"
"Yes!"
"Do all penguins watch each other sleep?"
"No,"
"Wait, if you know about…; then why are you still talking to me? Aren't you afraid or even concerned?"
"Not at all. I know, you won't hurt me."
"Yeah, you; but not Skip-"
Private put his flipper to her beak gently.
"I was thinking. It can't be impossible, but it will be hard."
"I'm listening."
"This isn't like you! You don't want to hurt any one. So maybe, we could come up with a way to-"
"You don't understand, Private! When I hunt, I amor killing the prey! I amor the taste! That would include your Skipper! I can't help myself!"
"What are you talking about?!"
Her eyes morphed into a mixture of black and a hint of blue.
"Let's go for a walk. I want to show you something." She said.
Clouds hung over head, as they waddled farther away from the camp.
"Where are we going?" Private asked.
His friends disappeared behind them. And like before, Celste was gone. A rustling noise came from behind him.
He spun around, and gasped.
A gigantic racoon was feeding behind a few blades of grass. In its charcoal black fingers and lethal claws was some kind of animal. The only reason he could tell was because the captive prey was struggling. Lifting it to its mouth and pointy teethy, the racoon crunched on what sounded like an exoskeleton-probably one of a crab. The racoon didn't expect to become a midnight snack herself.