Kaya noticed their looks and t them head-on. Then she narrowed her eyes and said, simply, "What?"
Her tone was flat. Dangerous.
That was enough.
No one spoke another word. They straightened and continued walking in silence.
It was only about a two-minute walk from there to the Tortoise Tribe’s settlent. The path itself was plain, almost deceptively so. But what stopped Kaya in her tracks were the houses.
A wall surrounded the settlent—not stone, not tal—but thick, carefully fitted wood. It wasn’t ant to intimidate. It was ant to declare presence.
People live here.
Inside, the houses were simple wooden structures, the kind one might see in old tis. Every building stood at a single level, as if the concept of a second floor had never occurred to them—or perhaps was unnecessary.
They stopped before the main door.
Kaya knocked.
Two beastn answered.
Kaya had always believed that beastn resembled their animal forms to so degree—but the tortoises were on another level entirely. They barely looked human at all. More like sothing out of old legends.
They walked upright on two feet, thick shells still resting heavily on their backs. Their faces reminded Kaya of sothing from half-forgotten stories—river spirits, creatures whispered about in Japanese tales.
Kappa, she thought.
Standing there, solid and unmoving, they looked less like guards and more like living fortresses.
Kaya slipped out of her daze, clearly bored, and then spoke.
"Um... hello, dear esteed sirs."
The mont the words left her mouth, Veer, Cutie, and even the sparrow stiffened.
Slowly—very slowly—they turned to look at her, as if they were witnessing a monster reveal its true form.
Both Veer and Cutie swallowed hard. The sparrow’s feathers puffed up in pure alarm.
They knew this tone.
Whenever Kaya spoke politely—softly, respectfully, sweetly—it was never a good sign. It always ant she wanted sothing. And not sothing small. Not sothing reasonable.
Right now, with this level of exaggerated respect, their eyes drifted instinctively to the Tortoise Tribe guards.
Poor souls.
In their hearts, they offered a silent prayer.
May their deaths be quick.
May they not suffer too much.
Because whatever Kaya was about to ask for...
it was going to be sothing so outrageous that it required manners.
The guards glanced at each other, then back at Kaya.
"What is it, child?" one of them asked. "You’re still young. What do you want?"
Kaya shook her head gently. "It’s nothing, my lord."
She turned slightly and gestured toward Veer. "This is my spouse. We’re traveling through the area, and since it’s getting a little dark, I thought we might take shelter here for the night."
Her tone was humble. Perfectly asured.
"If it’s inconvenient," she added smoothly, "we can leave right away."
The guards imdiately shook their heads.
"Oh no, no, child," one said warmly. "Co inside."
Kaya smiled.
A beautiful, soft, harmless smile.
The guards felt their hearts ease. What a sweet child, they thought.
Behind her—
Veer clasped his hands together, eyes distant, silently praying to every god he could rember.
Cutie lowered his head, muttering his own quiet plea.
Even the sparrow shut his eyes, feathers trembling.
They all prayed with the sa desperate sincerity.
Please... let us survive whatever she is planning.
Kaya had to admit one thing—this was the friendliest tribe she had ever encountered.
The mont she stepped inside the settlent, the air itself felt different. Unhurried. Calm. The Tortoise Tribe moved at a slow, steady pace, but it wasn’t the dull laziness of those who wasted their days away. It was deliberate, almost thoughtful. So were repairing wooden beams, their thick fingers working carefully over the grain. Others carried baskets at an easy rhythm, chatting as they went, their voices low and relaxed. Soft laughter drifted through the air, unforced and genuine.
There was no tension here.
The houses were simple but well-kept, wooden walls smoothed by ti rather than neglect. Thin wisps of smoke curled lazily from chimneys, carrying the warm scent of cooked grains and herbs. The ground beneath her feet was packed earth, worn smooth by years of steady footsteps.
Their faces caught her attention.
They didn’t resemble humans—not quite. Their features were rounded, almost carved, with a strange, toy-like quality that made them seem unreal at first glance. And yet, their eyes were kind. Curious. Alive. When they smiled, it felt honest, untouched by fear or calculation.
As Kaya entered alongside the guards, conversations paused.
Heads turned.
"Who is she?"
"Where did she co from?"
The questions weren’t sharp or suspicious—just curious murmurs passing from one tortoise to another. Kaya answered calmly, offering a simple version of the truth. A traveler. Passing through. Night approaching.
The mont her words settled, the mood shifted.
"Oh," soone said, smiling wider. "Then you must be tired."
Another gestured toward the center of the settlent. "Co. Eat with us."
Soon more voices joined in, overlapping gently. Soone pulled out stools. Soone else hurried off toward a cooking fire. The warmth of their welco wrapped around Kaya like a slow tide, steady and sincere.
No hidden glances.
No guarded silence.
Just open hands and easy smiles.
Kaya took it in quietly, aware of how rare such a place was—and how unexpected it felt to be welcod without question.
The al was prepared without ceremony, yet everything about it felt intentional.
Low wooden tables were dragged closer together, their surfaces worn smooth by generations of use. Thick stools followed, placed with unhurried care. Soone laid out simple cloths, faded but clean, while another poured warm water into shallow bowls for washing hands. No one rushed. No one barked orders. Each movent flowed into the next as if this was a rhythm they all knew by heart.
Kaya sat when invited.
Veer settled beside her, shoulders stiff, eyes still scanning the surroundings out of habit. Cutie hopped down and took a place near Kaya’s feet, ears twitching as unfamiliar slls curled through the air. The sparrow remained on her shoulder, quiet for once, watching everything with sharp, glittering eyes.
Food arrived in stages.
Stead roots, split open and drizzled with sothing buttery and fragrant. Bowls of thick soup, rich with herbs Kaya didn’t recognize, the surface shimring faintly in the firelight. Flatbread—dense, warm, and slightly sweet—was placed within easy reach of everyone.
A tortoise elder chuckled softly. "Eat slowly," he said. "Food tastes better that way."
Kaya blinked.
Slowly?
She took a bite.
The flavor surprised her—not heavy, not overwhelming, but grounding. Warmth spread through her chest, the kind that settled rather than burned. Around her, the tortoises ate with quiet contentnt, pausing to talk, to laugh, to offer another piece to soone else without a word.
No hierarchy.
No tension.
Just... togetherness.
Kaya’s gaze drifted, sharp eyes taking in details even as she ate. Children sat near the edges, shells smaller and lighter in color, listening more than speaking. Older tortoises moved less but were never ignored; plates were passed to them first, stools adjusted to their comfort. Respect here wasn’t loud—it was woven into habit.
Soone asked, gently, "Are you traveling far?"
"Far enough," Kaya replied.
That earned a few nods. No probing questions followed.
Veer noticed it too. His shoulders eased just a fraction. Cutie relaxed, paws tucked beneath him. Even the sparrow loosened his grip, feathers settling against Kaya’s collarbone.
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