Kaya blinked slowly. Her head tilted. She didn't need a translation to know he'd just called her something that wasn't very polite.
"Oh?" she muttered, voice low. "That's the tone you're going with?"
She narrowed her eyes for a beat longer, then turned away from him with the kind of indifference that stung worse than a slap. Without giving him another second of her attention, she shifted her gaze to Cutie, who was still awkwardly standing to the side like a student who forgot his homework.
Her voice was flat, calm—too calm.
"Where's the snake?"
Cutie stiffened. Even the sparrow, who had been practically vibrating with fury a moment ago, went silent.
There was something in her tone. A shift. Cold, quiet, sharp. Like the temperature had just dropped without warning.
The sparrow shivered, pressing himself back against the cage wall. For the first time since she'd walked in, he didn't speak.
Didn't flap.
Didn't chirp.
"Yeah"
Cutie replied with a slightly worried tone, glancing sideways as the other man stepped forward, holding another cage. This one looked different—sturdier. The bars weren't just spaced sticks like the last; they crisscrossed both vertically and horizontally, leaving no gaps wide enough for a snake to slither through.
Kaya took the cage into her hands, studying it for a moment. Then, all of a sudden, her face lit up with a bright smile.
"Oh dear," she cooed, tilting her head slightly, eyes glinting. "You two must feel so lonely… being apart for so long, right?"
Her gaze shifted to the snake first, then flicked over to the sparrow. The moment their eyes met hers, both creatures froze. Fear flickered instantly—raw and unhidden.
Then she turned to the same man who'd handed her the second cage, still smiling as if she hadn't just sent shivers down spines.
"Is there a slightly bigger cage?" she asked sweetly. "Or maybe… a closed basket where these two little friends can be together again? Hmm?"
Her smile held, but it didn't reach her ears. In fact, her face darkened just enough to make the man flinch. A shadow passed across her expression—something sharp and dangerous beneath the surface of her calm demeanor.
The man swallowed hard. He couldn't explain it, but something about this woman scared him in a way he didn't fully understand. He nodded quickly, almost too eagerly, and pointed to the side of the clearing where a larger basket sat. It was made of thicker woven material and unlike the rest, it had a lid—a firm one.
Kaya's smile deepened.
"Perfect."
She turned with both cages in hand, walking gracefully toward the basket.
The sparrow, watching her steps with growing dread, had already begun to pale—if a bird could even do that. His feathers fluffed involuntarily, body trembling inside the bamboo prison.
"Chirp... chirp..."
(Please... stop... I was wrong.)
Tears and snot dripped from the sparrow's tiny face, his voice cracking under sheer panic.
But Kaya didn't even blink.
She crouched slowly in front of the basket, her movements calm—too calm. Like someone handling something precious... or dangerous. She set the snake's cage down with disturbing tenderness, then placed the sparrow's right beside it.
Both prisoners sat frozen, not even daring to breathe.
Kaya rested her chin lightly on her shoulder, her gaze sliding between the two with a soft smile. "You missed each other, didn't you?" she cooed, voice sugar-sweet. "You used to be so close."
"Hissssss..."
(What are you going to do, bitch?)
The snake coiled himself tighter, tongue flicking in the air, trying to mask the tremble in his scales. Once feared for his venom and strength, he now felt something colder slither up his own spine—fear. This woman, this damn female, had not only bound him like worthless trash but had even broken his precious fangs. His pride still bled from that humiliation.
Meanwhile—
"Chirp-chirp-chirp!"
(Please! Angel of beasts, I beg you!)
The sparrow was crushed into the corner of his cage, wings shaking uncontrollably. His round eyes darted helplessly between Kaya and the snake, praying this was just a nightmare. Once brave enough to glare down vultures in the sky, now reduced to a sobbing mess because of a single human.
'Why... why did I even get tangled up with her?' he wailed inwardly as fat tears streamed down his face.
But Kaya—who hadn't flinched while ending the life of the sister she was raised with—did not know mercy. Especially not for creatures like these.
She was already opening the cages.
Click.
Click.
One. Then the other.
And still... that smile.
"You see," she said softly, almost dreamily, "I believe in healing old wounds. Reconnecting broken bonds. What kind of monster would I be if I didn't help two old friends reunite?"
Behind her, Cutie stood stiff, holding his breath as if even the faintest sound might trigger something worse.
Kaya opened the larger basket and gently tipped the snake's cage. He slithered out with a grunt, recoiling slightly from the touch of freedom. Then she tipped the sparrow's—who tumbled out with a clumsy flutter, unable to fly properly with his legs still bound.
"Chirp!"
(Ugh—!)
"Hiss..."
(Tch—)
They landed together inside the tight, enclosed basket. There was just enough room to breathe... but nowhere to hide.
Their eyes locked.
The snake's lip curled into a slow, wicked grin.
The sparrow's pupils blew wide in horror.
"Chirp-chirp-chirp!"
(Aaaah—!)
His eyes practically popped out of their sockets at the sight of his old nemesis, and the snake's grin only deepened.
"Hehehe..."
(Got you this time.)