The freshly cut grassland was serene with the wind calm, gentle and pleasing to the touch. Up in the morning sky, the sun shone a bright yellow hue which didn't scorch. The clouds hung high in the blue sky, scattered as if at war with one another.
Back on the grass which stretched out over the horizon, north, south, east and west. A figure could be seen laying on the grass, with his face looking up as he admire the sky.
"Haaa, I always love the look of the sky." Zlatan said as he exhaled deeply, stretching out his arms and legs wide open, making himself most comfortable. His protruding belly could be seen, wanting to break free from underneath his tunic.
*GRRRRRMMM!
"Oi, da beast. It has awakened— hahaha!" Zlatan cheered, laughing at how hungry he was. "Mmm, that smell. So good."
Suddenly, as if knowing he was hungry once again, the aroma of freshly done roast pork filled the air. He couldn't tell where it came from, until he noticed something up in the sky.
Emerging out of the clouds, a tall and gigantic figure could be seen. It was about 40 feet tall, having a head, two hands and two legs— a humanoid figure. "Porky?" Zlatan mumbled, seeing the large ovalish head of the figure, its triangular ears and round snout.
It was well roasted up, ready to be devoured with the smoke visibly seeping away. Its eyes were black, and it seemed angry having hot fumes coming out of its snout and mouth with each step it took. In a daze as he watched it, his mouth ajar with drool snaking down from its corners.
The aroma thickened so much that, he could actually feel and taste as if a piece of that gigantic living roasted pork, was swirling around in his mouth. He was spellbounded to it and without effort for the first time, Zlatan raised himself and sat up, having any further attempt to stand up being completely out of the topic.
Drowning in the pork's aroma, a different but familiar smell hit his nostrils, kicking out almost every trace of pork from his mind. It violently took over his senses, the aroma of it sending him all the way to cloud nine. Following it, sniffing the air his head tilted to the left and when his eyes opened up, before him was none other than a humanoid roasted chicken. It stood at the other side of the sky, opposite the pork.
Just like the pork, they were both shrouded with armour. The chicken's head which one couldn't tell whether it was there or not, had a large helmet which covered every part of its face, having a small crest of feathers propped up on the top. While the chicken was in full armour like a Knight, the pork had its bare chest out, its solid muscles exposed and wearing leather like a Hunter. In its hands was a large bone mace, while the chicken on the other hand was equipped with two butcher cleavers longer than normal as they were used by Knights.
"Yum yum yum, tasty." Zlatan kept his eyes on the chicken, smacking his lips in anticipation for a bite of it. He would have probably finished off a mega-sized drumstick now, his appetite skyrocketing.
Without a sound, they both charged at each other, smoking and filling up everywhere with their aromas. Raising its bone mace as light as if, it were a mere piece of paper, it came at the roasted chicken. Yet as agile as it was, the chicken still wanted to prove its strength before the chiseled pork. Crossing it's cleavers, forming an 'X' as the large mace came down at it.
Like a piece of bread, it crushed through the chicken's defenses upon impact. However, it wouldn't be a roasted chicken and favourite of most especially Zlatan, if that's all it had under its featherless and tasty wings. Looking down at the delicacy it just supposedly crushed into pieces, the roasted pork now had an absolutely puzzled look up its face. As nothing else could be seen there except the clouds they were on.
"Pork! Pork! Pork!" Zlatan was now cheering for the pork, its aroma overshadowing that of the chicken. Spellbound, he kept on repeating the set of words without any breaks.
Just behind the pork and up in the air, the roast chicken could now be seen coming down towards the bag of muscles. Catching the aroma of its opponent once again, the pork immediately grabbed the bonemace with both hands now. Planning on striking and finishing it off this time with one. It turned, sending the mace aiming at the incoming enemy as its attack, would smash it into mere bits and bytes.
Although it surely was strong, the chicken didn't fall behind either, having it's specialty in sheer strength but rather in speed and agility. After all, this wasn't a rooster, this was a hen and they were real fast when it got to mating periods.
However, before the roasted pork could reach a meter away with it's mace, it could no longer feel both hands anymore. As without the smallest decibel of sound, Zlatan being too far and in a zombied state to hear it even if there was one. The chicken had severed away the pork's hands just like that, and without warning. Now back at its former position, it proudly spun one of its cleavers in its fingers, taking delight in decapitating its enemy— if not butchering the enemy instead.
"Chicken! Chicken! Chicken!" With the one with the upperhand's aroma filling up the air, Zlatan had already changed sides.
The Pork was still the strongest between the two and losing mere hands, wasn't going to bring it down— a Hunter's Pride. Kicking off from its position with it's hooves, the chicken was almost caught off guard when an attack neared it. Barely dodging it, the chicken threw one of its cleavers up in the air and with the other one. It made to severe the leg also as the opponent went past it, yet the pork had more up its snout of course. Still inaudibly, the pork's smoking head connected with that of the chicken. Like two boulders crashing at each other, they had both dropped from the impact despite the headbutt being from the other.
Chicken!! Pork!! Chicken!! Pork!! Chicken Pork! Chicken Pork… Chickpork… Chiork…" Chanting with everything he got, Zlatan's words abruptly began to trail off. His eyes forcefully closing in, as an unbearable drowsiness came over him heavily and suddenly. Falling down back with a thump, he could feel his breathing heavy and also fading away.
Soon his eyes slowly opened up once again, yet this time round he was back in reality from his dreamscape. He lay on his large and comfy bed, feeling a weighty object on his chest as the first thing which barely came into view, were a two black paws. His vision was blurry, but Zlatan only heard one word and caught a glance of a pair of eyes, as the paws came down from what was definitely a face, just before he was out again. "PIKA-BOO!"