After gathering what she could, Kaya went back to the hut and packed her things as well. She was ready to leave.
Yes, if Kaya said she was going to leave tonight—then that ant she was done. No turning back.
Even though the forest at night was terrifying, staying here... might be worse.
She still didn’t understand how the mammoth showed up so suddenly. It made no sense. But from the way the vultures had reacted—shocked, tense—she could guess even they didn’t know how it happened. That, in itself, was unsettling.
So the smartest thing now? Stay away from this place.
She had no desire to co face-to-face with those vultures again.
And when she thought about them, her expression soured. One of them—his eyes. They reminded her too much of soone. A colleague from her past. He used to look at won like that too. Like he was in love. Like he cared. But in reality, he only saw what he could gain. That greedy glint in his eyes, masked by charm. That calculating softness, dressed up as affection.
That vulture had the sa look.
It made her skin crawl.
She wasn’t about to hang around and entertain so twisted idea of "playing house" with vultures, or snakes—or whatever else this madness was.
And no, Vayu hadn’t returned. He disappeared right after eting the vultures, and she hadn’t seen him since. Kaya chose to ignore it. There was no ti to sit and wonder.
She had things to do.
After packing her belongings into a basket, she tied it securely, covered it, and stood at the doorway.
Before leaving, she stopped by the villagers and asked about the wool. They told her they had most of it stored right now, but honestly, it wasn’t useful at the mont. Too much of it, and not enough purpose.
So Kaya told them directly:
She wanted to buy the wool. Not today, but after two weeks. She’d co back for it.
Winter was approaching fast. The air was already shifting, biting a little deeper each night. She didn’t want to waste another mont.
She needed a place to stay. A ho.
And it definitely wasn’t going to be a cave. Never.
Kaya hated caves.
They weren’t safe—what if one collapsed? What if water started seeping in from above or below? What if the structure just gave out in the middle of the night?
And besides, caves were cold. Damp. Claustrophobic.
No. She’d rather sleep in the open under the sky than bury herself in a hole.
She was going to find a place.
A proper place.
And build a house there.
When the village elder realized she was seriously preparing to leave, he paused. His gaze lingered on her, thoughtful, conflicted.
"If you want," he said after a mont, "you can stay the night."
Kaya gave him a small, polite smile and shook her head.
"No, it’s okay. I should go now."
She had already seen it—the flicker of hesitation in their eyes. Not just the elder, but the others too. Sothing unspoken, sothing uncertain. And Kaya didn’t dare take that risk.
So she left.
After stepping out of the sheep tribe, she headed straight for the place she’d quietly marked earlier.
Yes, Kaya had already found a temporary shelter: a cave. She planned to stay there for a night or two before continuing her journey.
It wasn’t far—just a few minutes’ walk from the edge of the village. The cave was quite large, its entrance dark and yawning, but not threatening.
And yes—she had already checked it.
How?
Don’t ask.
Seriously, don’t.
Because now, this pitiful sparrow was glaring at her like she had betrayed his entire bloodline.
His feathers were still a little ruffled. Literally.
This woman—this fucking woman—had thrown him into the cave to check if anything was inside.
Can you believe that? Just picked him up and tossed him in like he was so kind of living torch or sacrificial scout.
Kaya didn’t look guilty. Not even a little.
In fact, she looked quite pleased with herself as she stepped inside the cave like nothing happened.
She put her things down, adjusting them in a neat corner she claid as her own.
Cutie ca back, arms weighed down with firewood. He stepped into the cave, the flickering shadows from the small torch outside casting long lines across his face.
As he dropped the bundle onto the ground with a soft thud, his gaze instinctively drifted toward the corner.
There sat the sparrow.
Still.
Glaring.
Those small, furious eyes were locked onto Kaya like she’d ruined his entire bloodline—and maybe, in his eyes, she had.
On the other side of the cave, Kaya had already pulled out her knife and was slowly spinning it between her fingers, the blade flashing with a cold glint every ti it caught the light. Her expression was neutral. A little too neutral.
Cutie stared at them both for a second.
Then decided—wisely—that approaching either side would be suicide.
Absolutely not.
Nope.
So, without a word, he turned his back on both of them and got to work.
He crouched down, arranged the firewood, and struck the flint. Sparks flew, caught, and slowly gave birth to a small fire. The mont the fla rose, the cave blood with warmth and light.
Flickering shadows danced across the stone walls, and the cold silence began to retreat.
This ti, they had so decent things to work with.
A few bowls and plates—rough, handmade, but functional.
So dried fish and crab that Kaya had prepared earlier.
So no, it wasn’t like they had nothing.
They decided to make a simple soup. There was no salt, unfortunately, but Kaya figured she could make do. If she crushed so fruit into it, it might turn slightly sweet—at least enough to trick the tongue into feeling sothing.
Sweet soup, then.
Or whatever.
Kaya pulled out the dried at, added a few crushed wild fruits, and threw in a handful of bitter greens they had picked earlier. She poured water into a slightly larger bowl and set it over the fire to boil.
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