"This thod you've developed is truly remarkable," Logan remarked with genuine admiration as he surveyed the sprawling breeding farm before him. "Tell , how many expansive pits like the one we're standing next to can be found throughout this entire operation?"
With a hint of pride in his voice, the keeper responded, "We boast a total of eighteen such colossal pits across the farm. While their sizes may differ, even the smallest pit is teeming with over three thousand dragon rats. Cumulatively, we're nurturing nearly one hundred thousand of these creatures within the confines of these pits."
"One hundred thousand dragon rats?" Logan echoed, his astonishnt evident. He pictured one hundred thousand dragon rats sprawled across the ground, easily covering several football fields in their numbers.
Yet, sothing didn't quite add up for Logan. "With such an overwhelming number of dragon rats, it perplexes that we can't muster a supply exceeding 200 wargs. It seems implausible," he expressed, skepticism lacing his words. He pondered how such a bounty could significantly uplift the lives of his werewolf brethren.
Kodiak, the keeper, offered a rueful smile, shaking his head. "You may have misunderstood, Chief. Indeed, we shelter nearly 100,000 dragon rats. However, the vast majority, approximately 80%, consists of mother rats and their young, leaving only about 10,000 adult specins suitable for consumption. With such figures, we're barely eting the demand."
He continued, "Feeding on dragon rats has beco a daily necessity. Despite them birthing seven or eight litters a month, managing such vast pits presents its own set of challenges. Our breeders have observed that a significant portion of the pups succumb to infancy woes or fall victim to the aggression of adult dragon rats."
Logan nodded, his understanding deepening. "I see. So, the reality of sustaining one hundred thousand dragon rats isn't as far-fetched as it initially seed."
Curiosity piqued, Logan inquired, "And how many additional pits are you considering?" He gazed down at the myriad of dragon rats scuttling below, nibbling on grass roots. Despite recognizing the space-efficient thod of breeding, he couldn't help but feel it was sowhat archaic, especially to soone hailing from another world like himself.
The survival rate of the young and the pervasive stench spoke of significant challenges.
Kodiak revealed, "Our plans include the construction of twenty more breeding pits."
"Twenty? So, we're essentially looking to double our breeding capacity?" Logan sought clarification, a mix of surprise and anticipation in his voice.
"Indeed, Chief. With the introduction of these twenty new pits, we aim to provide more space and accommodate the increasing number of wargs. Should all go as planned, we might see a surge in warg fertility within the next few months," Kodiak confird, optimism evident in his tone.
He shared that the warg population currently stood at 267, including 56 adult females, so of which had recently given birth. "In three or four months, we anticipate a significant increase in pups, thanks to more than forty females expected to give birth."
With a keen understanding of the logistics required for sustaining their burgeoning warg population, Logan reflected, "Given that each litter averages three to four pups, we're anticipating the arrival of over a hundred new wargs. It's imperative we pre-emptively address their nourishnt needs."
Nodding in agreent, he shared a piece of wisdom, "As the old adage wisely puts it, 'An army marches on its stomach.' We must ensure our preparations are equally strategic."
Appreciating Kodiak's efforts, Logan added, "Your initiative is comndable. Yet, twenty breeding pits scarcely et our expansive needs." His tone shifted from comndation to concern, signalling a deeper insight.
Caught off guard, Kodiak awaited further explanation, which Logan promptly provided. "Wargs are vital, serving as the backbone of our wolf cavalry and, by extension, our tribe's martial prowess. But let's not overlook our people's welfare. Our tribe's at scarcity is acute. We werewolves, carnivorous by nature, rely on at for essential nutrients."
He painted a stark picture of the tribe's dire straits. "Even I, your chief, find at on my plate once every blue moon. Imagine the plight of our kin."
He delved into the tribe's intricate social structure, highlighting its absence of centralized food distribution, save for the logistical departnt's effort to ration supplies every five days. "Our society is layered, prioritizing the upper echelon and households boasting adult warriors," Logan elucidated, defining an 'adult warrior' as any beastn aged ten to fifty.
He shed light on the Beastman longevity, comparable to humans but punctuated by their remarkable physical prowess. "A healthy male wolf beastn typically ascends to a second-level warrior by adulthood, which not only marks a rite of passage but also augnts his lifespan."
This hierarchical food distribution, skewed towards male warriors and households with potential defenders, initially disconcerted Logan. "Such gender bias was a bitter pill to swallow.
However, understanding our tribe's survival hinges on these warriors, the rationale behind this distribution model becos apparent," he conceded, acknowledging the pragmatic yet challenging decisions that leadership entails.
Within the complex social fabric of the Silvermane tribe, there exists the rarest of households: the elderly and childless warg families.
Logan elucidated, "These families are exceedingly rare within our ranks, numbering no more than a handful across the tribe." Given the prolific nature of werewolf births, typically yielding two to three offspring per pregnancy, it's common for families to swell with nurous children.
Logan shared a personal note, "Take my father, for example, who has fathered over a dozen sons, making the existence of childless elder families within our tribe an anomaly."
This delineation of class, though distasteful to Logan, especially from his outsider's perspective, proved to be an inescapable reality once he assud the mantle of chief. He recognized the grim necessity of such a hierarchy, driven by the stark scarcity of resources. "Our warriors, deprived of at, face a dire predicant.
Without their strength, our tribe's very survival against adversaries is jeopardized," he confided in Kodiak, casting a serious glance his way.
Kodiak, montarily bewildered, found himself at the heart of this pressing issue. As a breeder of wargs, the chief's expectation for him to also address the tribe's food crisis through the expansion of dragon rat pits seed a bit out of his purview. Yet, Logan's determination was clear, "The number of dragon rat pits must increase. This is non-negotiable."
Caught between his reservations and the chief's directive, Kodiak hesitantly agreed, understanding the gravity of the situation. Logan assured him, "Whatever resources or support you need, consider it granted. Our priority is to amplify our breeding efforts."
As their discussion wound down, Logan's gaze lingered on a particularly robust dragon rat, noting its resemblance to a chinchilla from his world. Despite their utility, he couldn't help but admire their endearing appearance, a stark contrast to their role in the tribe's survival strategy. "If only they weren't so skittish," he mused, envisioning a softer mont amidst the tribe's harsh realities.
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