Wasn’t this woman supposed to be sick?!
He gawked at her in disbelief.
How the hell is she even fighting like this?
She looked furious, wild even—like a storm refusing to be bottled up. And sohow, still standing strong.
But just then, a sudden motion cut through the tension.
Kaya’s face contorted. She stiffened, a sharp breath catching in her throat as her hand flew to her abdon. Her other hand clenched tightly into a fist at her side as she bent slightly forward.
She gritted her teeth, trying to hide it—but the pain was unmistakable.
A cramp.
A sharp, unforgiving one that surged through her lower stomach like a blade twisting.
This was the second day of her period. The pain had eased a little in the morning, just enough to function. But after all the walking, the shouting, and the full-body fury she’d been directing at Vayu, the cramps had co back—with vengeance.
Her lips parted slightly, breath shallow, but she didn’t cry out.
Instead, she bit it back and straightened slowly, swallowing down the pain.
And still—Vayu stared at her, stunned. The fire in him now flickered with sothing else.
She’s still fighting?
Why?
anwhile, far from the hut, Cutie—the only one not present—was still out foraging for berries, accompanied by the little sparrow. Neither of them knew what was unfolding back at the camp.
But the beastn who were there?
They had just witnessed sothing they would never forget.
Vayu hesitated, his anger flickering as he watched her clutch her abdon. His voice dropped, hesitant, almost awkward.
"Um... are you okay?"
Kaya bit her bottom lip hard and turned her back to him.
"Hah," she let out a dry laugh, one laced with pain and pride. "Worry about yourself."
With that, she spun around and walked away—head held high even as her steps betrayed a hidden limp in her stride.
As soon as she entered her hut, her strength gave out.
Her knees buckled beneath her, crashing to the floor with a dull thud. She barely managed to brace herself with one arm as the other curled around her stomach.
Why the hell does it hurt this much?
She squeezed her eyes shut, her breaths shallow, cold sweat collecting at her temple. Still, she forced herself to lie down slowly, curling onto her side.
"Yeah... just rest," she muttered to herself, voice faint. "What else can I even do right now?"
And so she did.
Sleep claid her fast, the kind of sleep born from complete exhaustion—physical, emotional, everything.
She didn’t stir again until Cutie quietly entered the hut soti later, his small arms gently shaking her shoulder.
"Kaya... breakfast."
She blinked, eyes heavy, but managed to sit up groggily. She ate a little—barely enough to count—and lay back down again without a word.
Cutie stood there, watching her silently. He had already heard about the fight from the others. At first, he thought it ant Kaya was finally getting better—fighting back, full of life.
But now, seeing her pale face, the dark circles under her eyes, and the way she barely touched her food... he wasn’t so sure anymore.
.
.
By the ti the sun reached her thoracic height,next day Kaya felt... better.
Not perfect—but better than the aching, hollow pain from the day before. The sharp cramps had dulled into a bearable throb, and her body, though sluggish, finally felt like it belonged to her again.
She spent the day quietly inside her hut. There was no shouting, no walking around, no unnecessary movent—just her and the little tasks she could manage from where she sat.
She cleared out the leaves, sorted the baskets, and focused on sothing simple, sothing familiar. From two full baskets of freshly gathered leaves, she managed to sort out one basket’s worth things taht is usable she knew.
It wasn’t much, but it brought a certain calm to her nerves.
As the light began to shift, painting golden beams across the floor of her hut, Kaya finally stood up and stepped outside, brushing her hands on her knees.
And what she saw made her blink.
The entire area outside was bustling, but not chaotically. No, it was organized, efficient... almost done.
The wooden pillars of the new housing structures stood tall and aligned, each one firm, smooth, and solidly placed. Fresh rope joins, mud seals, and slanted beams glinted in the fading light.
Kaya stared.
The kind of work that would normally take a full team of experienced human builders at least two weeks...
The beastn had done in three days.
She stepped out further, eyes scanning the frawork rising like a village reborn. It wasn’t just strong—it was beautiful in its own raw, primal way.
A slow breath left her lips.
They really did this... while I was inside.
And for once—Kaya didn’t know whether to feel relieved, impressed, or just a little bit... left behind.
As Kaya stood watching the houses being built, the quiet creak of wood and soft thuds of labor in the air, she sensed movent nearby.
She didn’t look right away, but the approaching footsteps were careful—almost too careful.
Turning slightly, she spotted a small group of Nikala beastn walking toward her. They stopped at a polite distance, maybe ten steps away. Their usual flushed faces were still tinged with color, but nowhere near the intense red they often wore when near her tgese past two days.
This ti, it was different—more controlled, more... respectful.
Kaya raised an eyebrow, waiting.
They looked at each other, clearly unsure who should speak first.
One of them finally stepped forward.
It was Ken—the quiet one with thick, pitch-black hair that fell ssily over half his face, hiding his eyes and most of his nose. Only his mouth was clearly visible, and even that twitched with hesitation.
"Are you... okay?" he asked, voice low and uncertain. "I an, like... are you better?"
He fluttered his hand awkwardly in the air, as if trying to wave the words into place.
Kaya looked at him, a little surprised, then gave a short nod.
"Yeah," she said simply. "I’m better."
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