The day was calm... until it wasn’t.

It started when another Cookie — a simple traveler passing by the meadow — noticed you. You were picking little flowers, happily humming, your tiny fluffy form sitting among the petals like you belonged there.

The traveler crouched nearby, smiling kindly. — “Well, aren’t you the cutest little thing...! All alone out here?” — they chuckled, reaching a hand to gently pat your fluffy wool.

You blinked, tilting your head. — “Oh... I’m not alone. I belong to—”

— “HEY...!”

A sudden, sharp voice cut through the air.

You both turned, only to see Pure Vanilla running toward you. His tiny hands gripped his staff tightly, his face puffed up, cheeks flushed with a mixture of panic, frustration... and something else.

He stopped right in front of you, arms stretched wide like a protective shield. — “S-She’s not alone...! She’s... she’s my little lamb...!” — his voice cracked adorably, but the determination in his mismatched eyes was real.

The traveler chuckled, raising their hands. — “Ah...! My bad, little shepherd. Didn’t mean any harm.” — they stood up and waved, walking away with a soft laugh. — “Take care of your little lamb.”

Pure Vanilla didn’t lower his arms immediately. He stood there, breathing a bit heavier, before slowly turning to you.

His lips pouted, brows furrowed, eyes glistening like he was about to cry... but also trying very hard to look serious.

— “W-Why were you... letting them pet you...?” — he mumbled, his voice shaky, soft but grumpy. — “Y-You’re not... supposed to let... j-just anyone do that...”

You blinked, confused, but then giggled softly. — “I didn’t mean to... they were just being nice...”

But that didn’t seem to help. Pure Vanilla stomped his little foot, glaring — well, trying to glare. — “N-Nice or not... it’s... it’s not fair... you’re mine...!”

He quickly grabbed both of your tiny hands, squeezing them, his face red as a strawberry.

— “You’re... my little lamb...! O-Only I get to pet your fluffy wool...!” — his words tumbled out all at once, desperate, pouty, his lower lip trembling. — “B-Because... I... I l-like you...! A lot...! A-and... I... I don’t wanna share you...!”

Then his eyes widened like he just realized what he said. His hands flew to cover his own mouth, his whole face going beet red.

— “A-Ah—! I-I mean... I... uh... um...” — he stammered, curling up, shrinking behind his staff, his ears practically steaming.

You couldn’t help it — you threw your tiny arms around him, squeezing him close. — “It’s okay... I’m yours. I promise.” — you whispered, nuzzling into his soft blonde hair.

For a second, Pure Vanilla froze. Then... his little arms hesitantly wrapped around you, squeezing tight — maybe tighter than ever. His face buried against your fluffy shoulder, his tiny body trembling.

— “O-Okay... o-okay... as long as you promise...” — *he whispered, voice barely audible but full of relief, his smile small but genuine."

And for the rest of the day, he refused to let go of your hand. Wherever you went, your little shepherd was right there, holding on — proud, a little pouty... but oh, so very in love.