His tone was mild, almost concerned, like he was just reporting a strange event. But his eyes... Kaya caught the slight shine there, the tiny pull at the corner of his mouth. His body stayed relaxed, shoulders loose, face open, while his gaze flashed with *of course I did it, what will you do about it?*—the kind of mismatch where voice and micro‑expression tell two different stories.[
Veer stared at him, beak half open.
"Suddenly rolled down?" he repeated, incredulous.
Cutie brought a hand to his lips, as if thinking hard. "Yes," he said gently. "Very suddenly. It was... impressive."
Kaya’s eyes narrowed, just a little.
She hadn’t seen Cutie kick. When she’d turned around, she’d been checking the sparrow in her pocket, fingers feeling for that tiny rise and fall. One second Veer had been sprawled safely on the upper rock in full vulture form—heavy, hooked claws dug in, wings dead weight. The next, there’d been a crash and now he was down on the lower lip of the ledge, feathers everywhere, looking like he’d been thrown.
A vulture that size didn’t just "suddenly roll down." Not with his talons locked like that. Not without help.
Her gaze slid to Cutie.
He stood where she’d left him, a step from the edge, hands folded loosely in front of him. His shoulders were relaxed. His mouth held that sa small, gentle smile. To anyone else, he looked like he’d just been politely trying to wake Veer. But his eyes were a little too bright, the corners a little too tight. The softness in his face didn’t quite reach there, a classic tell when soone’s outward calm doesn’t match what they’re really feeling.[1]
Suspicion flickered through her.
She turned the picture over in her head once—Veer in bird form, all weight and claws, Cutie "doing nothing" right beside him—and filed it away. Later problem. Right now, she had two idiots and one narrow ledge.
Veer was still bristling, feathers fluffed, fire in his eyes as he tried to twist around enough to glare at Cutie and not fall off the rock.
"You—" he started, voice rough. "You little—"
"Veer." Kaya’s voice cut clean through his anger.
He snapped his beak shut and looked up at her.
She t his stare steadily. "Enough," she said. "He just woke up from an injury."
Her chin jerked toward Cutie without her looking away from Veer. "You want to fight soone who nearly cracked his head open an hour ago, you can wait until he can stand without swaying."
Cutie’s shoulders dipped a little at that; he ducked his head like he was embarrassed, fingers tightening together for a second. From the corner of her eye, Kaya saw the faint flush on his cheek, the way his lashes lowered. Playing harmless again. Whether it was real or not, she let him have it.
Veer huffed, chest rising and falling hard. The anger in his eyes didn’t vanish, but it cooled enough that he stopped trying to climb all the way back up just to bite soone.
"He kicked ," he muttered anyway.
Kaya’s mouth twitched. "Maybe the rock got tired of you," she said. "Either way, you’re awake. That’s what matters. Save the yelling for the sky. We still need you in one piece."
She gave Cutie a brief, pointed look—half warning, half "I saw enough"—then turned away to give Veer room to haul himself back up, choosing not to peel apart how exactly a "small push" had turned into a full‑body roll in bird form. There would be ti to dig into that later, when they weren’t one bad step away from falling.
Veer grumbled the whole ti he clawed his way back up onto the higher rock, but he did it. Feathers shook, one or two loose ones drifting off into the wind. When he finally stood steady again, he looked between Kaya and Cutie like they were both personally responsible for gravity.
"Happy?" he snapped. "I’m awake. My stomach hates . The rock hates ."
"The rock didn’t do anything," Cutie said softly. "It only caught you."
His voice was gentle, even sympathetic. His eyes... were not. There was a tiny shine in them, like he was replaying the way Veer had rolled and enjoying it a little too much. The mismatch between his mild tone and that quick, sharp look was the classic kind you see when soone hides real feeling behind polite words.
Kaya pretended she didn’t notice either layer.
"We’re wasting ti," she said. "We still have hours of flying to do. Veer, shift and get ready. Cutie, you’re behind again. Sa as before."
Veer muttered sothing rude under his breath, but he did as told. Bones cracked, feathers thickened and flowed; in a few heartbeats, the man was gone and the big vulture was back, heavier than he looked when human. He lowered himself, wings half‑spread to make a ramp.
Kaya stepped in first.
Her ribs stabbed when she swung her leg over, but she didn’t make a sound. She settled low between the roots of his wings, knees pressing into warm feather and bone. Her bandaged hand slid forward, burying itself in the thick feathers at his neck, fingers closing until she felt the muscle there.
"Easy," she said to him, more habit than comfort. "Don’t show off. Just fly."
Behind her, she heard Cutie’s quiet steps on stone.
He ca up on Veer’s other side, placing his palm lightly on the bird’s back before climbing like he was asking permission. Then he swung up in one smooth motion, careful not to jolt the already sore body under them. Kaya felt his knee bump the back of her thigh, the small weight of him settling in.
For a mont he didn’t hold on to anything. Then his hands found her.
One slid around her waist, fingers spreading over her stomach through the thin fabric, warm and steady. Not grabbing. Just... there. The other braced on Veer’s feathers at the side, far enough that he wouldn’t pull them by mistake.
"You can hold tighter," Kaya said without turning. "I’m not made of glass."
"I know," Cutie answered, voice low. "You feel more like stone."
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