Baby Squirrel Is Good at Everything

Due to the harsh natural environment of the North, many unique customs flourished—practices that people from other regions dismissed as mere superstitions.

Among these, beliefs regarding children were particularly obsessive, especially when it came to naming them.

There was an old northern saying: "A name that does not match a child’s fate will twist them."

Some claimed it would lead to a child growing up with a twisted personality, while others warned of more literal misfortune—illnesses, accidents, even physical deformities.

To prevent such ominous outcomes, northern families usually observed a child’s nature for a year or two before deciding on a name.

The more beloved the child—especially a long-awaited daughter born late in life—the more careful parents were in choosing a name that aligned with the child’s destiny. As a result, naming was often delayed.

Even so, letting the young lady reach eight years old without a name… that was excessive.

Shaking her head, Johanna sighed at the thought of her absent master.

And yet, someone else was close enough to the young lady to give her a name? Who could it be?

Could it be the Viscount from the townhouse in the capital?@@novelbin@@

Tilting her head in curiosity, Johanna murmured to herself.

"The master will be quite displeased."

Someone who had spent years trying to come up with the most precious name on the continent—what would he say when he learned that the matter had already been settled?

He should have just named her sooner. He was so stubborn about choosing the absolute best and most fitting name…

She could still hear him saying, "It must have the finest meaning, the strongest fortune."

But honestly, how long did he intend to keep calling her "child" instead of giving her a proper name?

Johanna shook her head again, sighing at the thought of the stubborn man as she continued toward the office.

***

Meanwhile, inside the ducal estate’s parlor.

"……."

"……."

Beatty suddenly realized she had been left alone in the room—with her older brother.

The knight standing behind him was a familiar face, but he showed no intention of participating in this rare and awkward meeting between the long-separated siblings.

This is… really awkward…!

A heavy silence fell over the room, too much for a small squirrel to bear alone.

When is Johanna coming back?

Beatty kept stealing glances toward the door, hoping for her rescue, but the butler was nowhere in sight.

"Hmm."

The boy, watching her every move, took in every small detail.

Her soft golden hair, slightly different from his own black hair, looked plush enough to tempt someone to reach out and touch it.

Her round, glossy black eyes darted about, scanning her surroundings with curiosity.

Her lips, small and red like a cherry, were pressed together in a firm line.

And all of these features were packed into an impossibly tiny face.

Small.

The boy observed her with fresh eyes.

Something had been bothering him for a while, making his nose twitch slightly.

Hm.

He could already picture what she would look like in her squirrel form—fidgeting, sniffing around with her tiny black nose.

She might actually be smaller than the tuft of fur at the end of my tail.

Now that he thought about it, when she first arrived at the estate, she had been in her squirrel form.

Everyone except him must have fussed over how tiny and adorable she had looked.

"Hmm."

Something about it nagged at him.

"……."

After a brief pause, he suddenly stood up and walked toward Beatty.

"You."

Beatty, stiff with tension, looked up at her brother, who was now looming over her.

"Turn into a squirrel."

"……?"

What?

Caught off guard by the unexpected demand, Beatty stared at him in confusion before narrowing her eyes warily.

Why is he asking me to shift? Is he planning to mess with me?

A vivid image formed in her mind—her tiny squirrel body being grabbed and swung around wildly in his large hand.

Of course, the boy had no such thoughts.

She twitched again. What exactly is she thinking with that tiny head?

He was simply curious.

She keeps looking at me.

Even though her gaze was full of caution, she was still staring straight at him.

The boy realized this was the first time he had been this close to something that fit within the typical definition of cute.

That was partly because he had grown up on the battlefield.

She’s not running away.

And also because of his nature as a lion beastkin.

Even as a child, his natural predatory aura had sent smaller creatures fleeing at the mere sight of him.

It’s convenient when annoying things don’t get in the way.

It was a practical advantage—like when he camped out on the battlefield and insects didn’t dare approach him.

But snow rabbits…

When he entered the forest, rabbits and deer—the very prey he wanted—would vanish before he could even get close.

That part wasn’t convenient.

I wasn’t even trying to hunt them. Why did they run?

He had just wanted to see how long a rabbit’s ears actually were.

"?"

Beatty, still watching him closely, noticed a subtle shift in his expression.

His golden eyes, which had been sharp and focused, suddenly looked… oddly disappointed.

Did I look too defensive?

For some reason, that pricked at her conscience.

She hesitated.

Her caution hadn’t entirely faded, but something about her brother made it hard to categorize him as just another person who hates me.

Unlike her father—who had ignored or torn up every letter she ever sent—her brother had simply never interacted with her at all before her regression.

…There’s no need to push him away preemptively, is there?

No—if anything, she needed to get on his good side.

Unlike her, who had been treated like an outcast, her brother was a lion beastkin of exceptional strength and valor, undoubtedly cherished as the pride of their family.

And since Beatty planned to stay at the ducal estate until her coming-of-age ceremony, he was someone she had to get along with.

Yes.

With her thoughts settled, Beatty tapped into a familiar sensation.

Pop!

With a soft burst, her dress fluttered onto the sofa, ribbons and frills spilling over the cushions.

Rustle.

Beneath the folds of fabric, a tiny lump wriggled momentarily, as if finding its way.

Then—

Boop.

A small squirrel poked its head out from the sleeve.

"…!"

The boy's eyes widened.

This squirrel—the first tiny creature he had ever seen up close—was truly tiny.

Her glossy black eyes gleamed like polished stones, and her fur, the same golden hue as her hair, was streaked with delicate brown stripes.

Her puffy cheeks were covered in soft white fur, making her look as round and fluffy as a little dumpling.

Her ears, still alert with lingering wariness, twitched upright.

"You look like me."

‘Huh?’

“…Excuse me?”

Behind him, the knight couldn’t hold back his disbelief.

"Young Master… in what way, exactly, does this adorable little squirrel resemble you? That’s a rather horrifying statement."

Ignoring the knight’s silent reproach, the boy remained fixated on Beatty.

"Look."

Twitch.

Beatty’s ears perked with curiosity.

"Our ears are round."

"?"

"…?"

Unfazed by their baffled reactions, the boy casually shifted into a partial beastkin form, revealing his lion’s ears. Then, pointing between himself and Beatty, he declared,

"See? We match."

His sharp lion fangs glinted as he spoke, his tone oddly pleased.

"Wow. I—just. Hah. If that’s the standard, then my ears are round too—"

"Don’t lump in those ugly ears of yours."

"Ugly—?! Young Master, isn’t that too harsh?!"

As the knight grumbled about the absurdity of it all, Beatty, on the other hand, found herself falling silent.

Lion ears and squirrel ears.

One was barely the size of a fingernail, the other the size of a palm.

They look nothing alike…

Yet, as she stared at her brother, who was seriously insisting on their similarity over something as simple as ear shape—

…Maybe we do look a little alike?

A strange warmth spread through her chest.

Bashishi.

Her lips twitched as a smile threatened to bloom.

"Chyu-chut."

A tiny chirp escaped from her squirrel mouth before she could stop it.

Ah!

Sscramble.

As soon as she made the sound, Beatty instinctively covered her mouth with her tiny hands, embarrassed.

But it was too late.

With his superior beastkin hearing, her brother had already caught every bit of it.

"……."

His golden eyes gleamed as he stared at her, completely focused.

Beatty could feel sweat gathering at her furred nape.

"That’s your cry?"

His gaze felt almost blinding, but she refused to lower her hands from her mouth.

"Hmm."

Seeing his younger sister flustered, the boy began contemplating ways to make her reveal her face again.

Then, something on the tea table caught his eye.

"Here."

"?"

At the sound of his voice, Beatty cautiously lifted her head, only to find a large hand in front of her.

More specifically, a large hand holding an almond.

"I’ll give you this."

He had picked up an almond from a plate of confectionery ingredients and was now offering it to her as a clumsy bribe.

"……."

For a long moment, Beatty just stared, utterly speechless.