Cutie, still misty-eyed, took a deep breath and spoke with the kind of admiration that made Kaya’s skin crawl.
"Yes... now I understand."
Kaya narrowed her eyes. "...Understand what?"
He looked at her with an awed expression, as if the heavens had parted and divine knowledge had descended.
"I was confused before," he said seriously. "But now I know. You definitely belong to the chimpanzee tribe."
He nodded solemnly. "The way you climbed that tree—graceful, powerful. Only a chimp could do that."
And with that, he turned around and walked a few steps away, as if he had just delivered the most heartfelt complint of his life.
Kaya stood there, absolutely frozen.
Wait.
Was that a... complint?
Or an insult?
She looked down at her hands. She wasn’t even sure anymore.
"...Chimpanzee tribe?"
A mosquito bit her forehead again.
Yep.
Life was out to get her.
As kaya walked forward after a few minutes
Kaya walked for another five minutes, her steps growing slower, heavier. She huffed, rubbing the back of her neck, irritation and fatigue settling into her bones. Her stomach growled again, louder this ti. She hadn’t eaten properly. Earlier, she’d thrown away what little food she had—it had tasted like sothing dug out from under a rotting log.
She was about to complain aloud when, suddenly, sothing appeared in front of her.
A hand.
Open. Calm.
And resting in the center of that palm—folded delicately in a large green leaf—was a fruit.
Kaya blinked, her thoughts grinding to a halt.
It looked like an orange. Round and familiar. But the color wasn’t quite right—it was green, with hints of yellow along the ridges. A soft, sharp scent rose from it, citrusy and slightly sour. The kind of sll that made her mouth water without permission.
She looked up slowly. Cutie was standing there, arm extended, as if this were the most natural thing in the world.
She didn’t say a word at first. Just reached out, took the fruit from his hand, and began peeling it. The skin ca away easily. The mont she tasted the first segnt, she stilled.
Sweet.
But not too sweet. There was a mild sourness that lingered just enough to make the flavor bright, refreshing. Her hunger didn’t just fade—it was silenced, soothed by the sharp sweetness that filled her mouth.
But then—her brows furrowed.
Wait.
She glanced at him again.
"You..." she said slowly, her voice steady but puzzled. "Where did you get this?"
Hearing that, Cutie paused. His fingers stilled midair as he looked at the fruit in her hand. Then, slowly, he lowered his head like a wronged child, eyes downcast, nervously fidgeting his fingers together.
"I... I prepared you so travel things," he said in a small voice, barely above a whisper. "Necessary things... for your journey."
Kaya frowned, her expression tightening.
"Travel?" she asked, voice steady but sharp. "How did you know that I would leave your tribe and not stay?"
Kaya had been noticing sothing strange for a while now. The way Cutie had the fruit ready for her. The small bundle tied on his back. It didn’t make sense.
She knew how he was treated in the tribe. He barely had anything to eat himself—so where did this food co from? And why was he already packed?
She rembered clearly—she had told him to get ready, then went inside for a few minutes to change. When she ca back out, he was already standing there, packed and ready to go. It didn’t even look like he had to pack—just picked up the bundle and stood there.
Most people don’t leave ho like that. Not a place they’ve lived their whole life. It’s not that easy. Kaya couldn’t shake the feeling that he had been prepared to leave long before she said anything.
Still, she said nothing.
Cutie looked at her, then lowered his eyes. His voice was soft. "I... I prepared this for you."
She looked at him, confused, but didn’t speak.
"I wanted you to leave my tribe today," he continued, slowly. "No matter what happened... I would’ve made sure you left."
He glanced at her again, as if unsure how she would react. Kaya didn’t say a word, just waited.
"I took you to the tribe that day because you were hurt," he said. "I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t leave you out there. But I didn’t want you to stay either."
He paused, fidgeting with his fingers, trying to find the right words.
"There’s a ritual in our tribe," he said, almost whispering now. "If a woman stays longer than a day... she’s forced to be bonded to the males. They treat her like a prize. And once that happens... she can never leave."
He looked down, ashad. "I didn’t want that to happen to you."
"Why do you even want to help ?" Kaya asked, her voice sharp with confusion. "Isn’t it good for you if I was forced to live in your tribe or whatever?"
Cutie quickly shook his head, almost panicked. "No!" he blurted out, then looked down, biting his lip. "I..."
He paused, fingers twitching, struggling to say it. "I hated my mother," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "I hated how she didn’t care about my father’s death... how she just moved on like nothing happened."
His hands clenched, but his voice softened as he continued, "Until... until I learned the truth."
He looked up, eyes heavy. "My mother... she wasn’t from our tribe. She was from the Squirrel tribe. During a predator attack, she got separated from her people. That’s when my father found her... and saved her."
Kaya watched him quietly, her expression unreadable.
"He took her in, cared for her. She was grateful, and when she got better, she wanted to go ho. Back to her family. But... my father and his brother didn’t let her go."
Cutie’s voice cracked.
"They forced her to stay. Forced her to beco his mate. Even though he treated her gently, like she was sothing precious... he stole her freedom."
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