A strange fear sparked in the bird's eyes — wild, panicked, and oddly… offended.
It began to struggle, flapping weakly, but Kaya's grip didn't budge. She had wrestled with worse today, and a trembling puff of feathers wasn't about to win.
She glanced around. A tiny vine dangled lazily from a stunted tree nearby — too flimsy.
Then her eyes caught something else: the sparrow's tiny, sharp talons. "Tch," she muttered. "Those little claws are definitely flight-risk material."
Her gaze shifted to a patch of grass. She yanked a long, sturdy blade from the earth — not exactly rope, but firm enough to get the job done. With practiced fingers, she wrapped the grass around the bird's legs, tying a snug knot before slipping the indignant little creature into the inner pocket of her coat.
The sparrow went still — frozen in absolute, earth-shattering disbelief.
How… howw…
How dare this female… touch me!
This wasn't just any bird.
He was no ordinary feathered critter.
He was a beastman, a descendant of the sky-guardians — feared, respected, revered.
[only in his dream]
KAMJO.
The cursed, once-in-a-moon period of vulnerability where a beastman's energy collapsed entirely, leaving them weaker than a newborn hatchling. No strength. No defense. No escape.
And now… tied up. Tossed into a woman's pocket like loose change.
Is this how it ends? Not in battle, not in glory — but kidnapped by a starving, deranged female with wild eyes and a suspicious amount of confidence!?
His pride screamed louder than his body could.
This is an outrage.
..
..
.
But anyway, his shouting—or what he thought was shouting—meant absolutely nothing. With his powers drained, all that came out of his beak was a pathetic chirp-chirp-crrkk. Kaya didn't even blink. If she heard it at all, she probably thought it was the bird cursing her out in Morse code.
Well, too bad. She didn't speak Tiny and Powerless.
Now, with the "food" securely tucked into her coat pocket, she had a new mission: find fire and a water source. Water was more important than food, especially if she didn't want to die of some gross infection from eating forest critters. Not that she was all that concerned, honestly. Her body was built different—literally. Her immune system was the stuff of legends.
Her old comrades used to joke, "Kaya could swallow a live buffalo and wouldn't even burp." She never confirmed or denied it. Let the rumors live.
Still, she wasn't about to chow down on feathered mystery meat raw. Even wild animals had standards. Some leaves rustled nearby, but she paid it no mind. Right now, she had priorities: fire, water, and maybe a pinch of salt if the forest gods were feeling generous.
In her pocket, the sparrow twitched in outrage.
'She's calling me food. She's planning to roast me! '
'Me!'
Another feeble chirp came out.
Kaya gave the pocket a lazy pat. "Settle down. You're not on the menu yet. Depends on how useful you are."
The sparrow stiffened. Did she just talk to me? No—impossible. She couldn't understand him. She wasn't supposed to.
But somehow, her voice sent a shiver down his spine, not from fear... but from something worse: uncertainty.
Kaya kept walking, eyes lazily scanning the terrain for a decent spot to build a fire—flat ground, dry wood, maybe even a rock to sit on if the universe felt generous. Completely unaware—or perhaps just unconcerned—that tucked in her coat pocket wasn't just some injured, pitiful little bird.
Nope.
She was carrying a full-blown beastman. And not just any beastman—but the beastman who was currently a hot topic back in the beast realm.
And definitely not for the right reasons.
.
.
.
Meanwhile, just a few kilometers away, atop a jagged rocky mountain, a dark shadow danced across the sky.
The vultures had returned.
Their massive wings sliced through the wind as they circled the peak in ominous silence. One by one, they began to descend, talons grazing the stone as they landed. But the moment their claws met the earth, a transformation began—eerie, seamless, almost sacred.
Their powerful legs shifted first, talons morphing into pale, muscular limbs, smooth yet firm like sculpted marble kissed by dusk. Slowly, the rest of their bodies followed, the sleek feathers retracting and folding inward like shadows consumed by twilight, revealing human forms—beautiful, dangerously so.
Their eyes opened slowly, glinting dark brown but unmistakably unnatural—sharp, calculating, and predatory. The vulture's gaze hadn't left them; it had simply adapted.
Each man stood tall, with long, wild brown hair cascading freely down their backs, lifted slightly by the wind. Their skin held a sun-warmed tone, partially covered by animal hides slung around their waists and shoulders—functional, primal, yet exuding raw, effortless allure.
They looked like gods from a forgotten age.
And yet there was a coldness in the air as they stood in silence, exchanging glances that needed no words.
The tallest one stood at the center, his jaw tight, eyes scanning the horizon as if trying to burn holes through the silence. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, steady—yet it carried a sharp edge that made the others tense.
"Where is he?"
The group shifted, the weight of his question sinking into their bones. One of them stepped forward, hesitating. His voice was uncertain, his eyes avoiding Veer's.
"Veer… we brought him back but…"
Veer turned slowly, eyes locking on him with a cold intensity. "But what?"
The man flinched, wiping a hand across his damp forehead. "He… he let the sparrow get away."
Silence. Thick. Heavy.
"He failed to bind him properly," the man continued, barely above a whisper. "Now we've lost the only chance we had to enter Aaram."
For a moment, Veer said nothing. His gaze fell to the ground, his fingers twitching slightly, as if resisting the urge to crush something in his hand.
Then he looked up, eyes colder than before. "Bring him to me."
The others froze.
Veer's voice dropped even lower, each word like a quiet threat.
"He's going to explain himself. And this time, no one walks away without scars."