His voice cracked between fear and frustration. "Couldn’t she have left that damn snake instead? No! She had to take him — just because that slithery bastard looks good."
He flapped his wings in a frustrated flutter, curling deeper beneath the rock. "And me... a poor little baby, a small life... alone in this cold cave with a howling beast!"
The howl came again, this time closer.
"AWOOOOOO—!!"
He fell silent.
His body stiff, breath held. Thoughts ran wild inside his head — curses, insults, regrets, helpless questions. But none made it past his beak. He stayed there, trembling, his voice caught behind his feathers.
.
..
.
The sun had barely risen when Kaya decided it was time to leave.
She had already bought everything she needed. Time was slipping through her fingers, and there was still so much to do — too much, actually.
She’d already spoken with Rean and his group. They agreed to come in three or four days to start building the house. That was a relief. Now, Kaya just needed to check on the little sparrow — to see if he was still alive or had turned into some wild beast food — and also figure out who among her new crew could actually do something, and who couldn’t.
So, without wasting any more time, Kaya and the Nikala tribesmen left the market that very morning.
It should’ve taken only about half an hour to walk two kilometers — maybe forty minutes max. But with so many injured people, and others who couldn’t even shift into their animal forms, the journey stretched painfully long. Every few minutes, they had to stop, adjust, or help someone along.
Still, there was one benefit: Kaya didn’t have to carry a single thing. The others, despite their limps and bruises, carried the supplies she had bought — food, clothes, medicine, and a few essentials. She didn’t complain. Honestly, she appreciated it. It gave her space to walk freely, and more importantly, to think.
The group moved slowly, but steadily. And thankfully, by the time the afternoon heat had started to creep in, they reached the place.
As soon as Kaya stepped foot back on the familiar trail, she looked ahead, eyes narrowed slightly.
Time to see if that tiny brat sparrow is still breathing.
As Kaya neared the cave, something suddenly felt off.
Her steps slowed.
Then, her heart skipped a beat. She froze.
Just a few meters ahead, on the dusty ground — footprints. Big ones. Animal tracks. Not fresh, but not old either. Still sharp in shape.
Kaya’s breath hitched.
Her eyes followed the prints, and landed on the mouth of the cave. That’s when she saw them—small, fragile sparrow feathers scattered on the ground, some of them slightly ruffled, a few with specks of dirt and something that looked too dark to be just mud.
Her stomach dropped.
No...
Before her brain could fully process it, her hand had already reached for the gun at her side — a move so natural, so instinctive, she didn’t even realize it until her fingers were curled around the grip.
She didn’t call out. Didn’t wait.
Kaya dashed toward the cave.
Every breath felt heavier, panic rising in her throat.
If something happened to him—to that annoying little sparrow brat—she didn’t know what she would do.
Kaya reached the mouth of the cave, breath tight, senses sharp.
Suddenly—whoosh—something small and fast launched at her like a ball of feathers and fury.
Without thinking, years of survival instincts kicked in. Kaya twisted her body and—BAM!—landed a clean kick to the incoming blur, sending it straight into the cave wall with a solid thud.
Everyone behind her gasped, eyes wide, mouths half-open. It all happened so fast they could barely register it.
Kaya lowered her foot slowly, already knowing what—or who—she’d just kicked.
"Chr...vchri...chrippp"
A familiar groan echoed through the cave.
She looked toward the wall.
There, twitching slightly in a mess of ruffled feathers and attitude, was none other than that sparrow. That piggy-like, loud-mouthed sparrow brat.
He looked furious. And pathetic.
His wings were a complete mess—bent, scratched, maybe even a little bloody. Like he’d been through a lot more than he could handle. His little chest heaved with dramatic anger, and his beady eyes glared at her like she was the villain.
With the most dramatic eye roll ever seen on a sparrow, the little bird flopped onto the ground like he was seconds from death.
Everyone behind Kaya froze in shock.
Was... was it dead?
Kaya narrowed her eyes and slowly stepped forward, her boots crunching on the cave floor. She knelt beside him, unsure. Her brows furrowed as she leaned in closer.
Then, with two fingers, she gently pressed against his tiny cheek... nothing. So she moved her finger to his little nose—if that could even be called a nose—and held it there.
He was breathing.
Just as she sighed in relief—CHOMP!
"AAHH!" Kaya shouted, jerking back.
The damn sparrow had bitten her scalp!
Her scalp!
Kaya’s eyes flared with rage. "You—!"
Before she could even think, she raised her hand again, and WHAM! slammed her index finger against the cave wall, with the tiny feathered menace still stuck to it.
Not enough to kill. Just enough to shake the stupid out of him.
The bird tumbled loose, dazed, feathers sticking out in every direction.
Kaya stood there, fuming, staring at her now bleeding finger.
"You—what the hell are you?! A bird or a damn dog?!" she snapped.
The sparrow didn’t respond. He just lay there, eyes swirling, like his soul had temporarily disconnected.
Behind her, someone whispered, "He’s still alive..."
Kaya didn’t care. Right now, she was too busy trying not to strangle the world’s most irritating bird.
Suddenly, with a whoosh, the sparrow popped back up like he had been resurrected by sheer rage alone. He flew straight into Kaya’s face—barely five or six centimeters away—and started screaming.
"CRIP! CRIP! CRIP!"
( You idiotic woman! Where the hell did you go after leaving me?!)