Kaya narrowed her eyes at him, her voice laced with suspicion.
"do You knew them personally?"
Cutie shook his head hurriedly, hands flailing slightly in panic.
"No, no! I don’t know them! I was just saying... whenever a vulture and a snake et—they fight."
His voice trembled again. "They’re mortal enemies. And when enemies like that et, they don’t care who’s around. They fight. Always."
He pointed subtly toward the clearing.
"Did you see when he threw the stone? He didn’t even look where he was throwing it."
His voice dropped lower.
"If you stay there too long... you’ll get pulled into their fight whether you want to or not."
Kaya’s jaw tightened slightly as she glanced back at Vayu and Veer, still locked in a silent war of glares.
Looking at their eyes—those burning, unwavering gazes—Kaya didn’t need anyone to spell it out. Cutie wasn’t wrong.
If those two clashed... it wouldn’t just be a fight. It would be chaos.
Bodies would fly. Blood would spill. And it wouldn’t stop until one of them was buried under dust and rage.
She bit her lower lip, hard. Her hand slowly slid behind her waist, fingers brushing the cold steel of her gun. She almost pulled it out. Almost.
But her hand froze there—gripping, hesitating. Thinking.
Kaya hated running from a fight. Hated it. But this one?
She counted quickly in her head.
Fifteen bullets. One small knife. That’s all she had.
And the enemies? Sixty. Maybe more. Shadows moved in the distance—so fast, so looming. All threats. She couldn’t even take out half before she was swallowed whole.
Her lips parted, then she let out a quiet, frustrated breath, releasing the pressure.
She turned to Cutie.
"Can you transform into your animal form?" she asked, voice low but urgent. "As small as possible?"
Cutie blinked, unsure, his red eyes flickering.
"I can... but if I do, I won’t be able to shift back for at least half an hour. Maybe more."
His voice was quiet but laced with warning.
Kaya nodded without hesitation.
"Do it."
Truth was—she could get out. She was small, quick, and nimble. If she crouched, used the shrubs and shadows, she could disappear before anyone noticed. But Cutie?
He was too big. His normal size would catch eyes from fifty feet away.
A faint shimr of blue light passed over him—and within seconds, Cutie was gone.
In his place stood a wild rabbit. Not the kind you see in adows. This one was dark brown, his fur thick and coarse. His teeth were sharp, prominent—more survivalist than adorable. There was nothing cuddly about him.
Kaya crouched and scooped him up.
He was about the size of a three-year-old rabbit—just enough to fit in her coat, but not small enough to hide completely. Still, she stuffed him halfway into her inner pocket. His little head poked out, blinking, ears flat as if already in battle mode.
Then Kaya turned her head.
Her eyes fell on the sparrow still perched lazily on the stone, chest puffed out in mock dignity.
"You," she said, pointing at him with a flick of her chin.
"Stay here. Watch them. And don’t follow ."
No way she was going to carry two freeloaders into enemy chaos. The sparrow, despite his tiny size, was trouble wrapped in feathers—and Kaya knew it.
The sparrow’s feathers all stood up at once like soone had just electrocuted him.
"Chirp?"
(What?)
The sparrow flapped his wings in a flurry, lifting a few centiters into the air as he squawked in protest.
"Chirp! Chirp! Chirp!"
(Hey, she-devil! How can you just throw aside and leave?!)
But the mont he looked forward, he froze.
Kaya was already gone.
Crouched low, her body lted into the background like a shadow slipping through cracks. She moved with the silence of a predator, weaving between trees and bushes, each footstep calculated. In just a few breaths, she was several ters away—vanishing from the open like mist burned by the sun.
anwhile, back in the clearing, Veer and Vayu were still locked in a vicious verbal standoff. But suddenly, Veer paused.
Sothing felt... off.
His brown eyes flicked toward the space where Kaya had stood. Empty.
Gone.
His pupils narrowed.
He whipped his head around and glared at Vayu, who stood there—arms crossed, a faint smirk tugging at his lips like he’d been waiting for this exact mont.
Veer’s jaw clenched. He could feel it now, in his bones.
This snake had distracted him.
This whole fight—this posturing—had been a setup.
Veer turned sharply, his eyes narrowing at the sight of that damned smirk on Vayu’s face. It wasn’t just smug—it was deliberate. Mocking.
And that was enough.
Veer’s anger flared like wildfire. He stepped forward and grabbed Vayu by the collar, jerking him close with a force that made the air shift.
"You bastard," he growled through clenched teeth. "So that’s why you’ve got such a strong death wish?"
But Vayu didn’t flinch.
If anything, his smirk deepened, slow and icy. His golden eyes locked onto Veer’s with an expression so calm, it was infuriating.
"Well," he said, his tone cold as frost, "what can I do? You were chasing my female."
Veer’s grip tightened around Vayu’s collar, his knuckles pale, the veins in his arms flexing with rage.
"Your female?" he spat, voice razor-sharp. "She’s not—"
But before the next word could leave his lips—
Boom.
A deep, guttural crack echoed through the air. Not thunder. Not footsteps.
Sothing else.
Both of them froze. Veer’s eyes darted upward. Vayu’s expression sobered, his smirk vanishing like mist in wind.
Another boom followed. This ti, the ground beneath their feet trembled faintly—just enough to unsettle.
Then, from the far end of the clearing, a bird—a real one this ti, not the annoying sparrow—flew out of the trees in a flurry of feathers, squawking wildly.
Sothing was coming.
Sothing big.
Vayu pulled out of Veer’s grip with ease now that the attention had shifted.
"Looks like we’ve got bigger problems," he said, brushing imaginary dust from his shirt.
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