CHAPTER 259: CHAPTER-259.

Kaya stood behind him, arms folded tight across her chest, eyes sharp enough to slice through bone. The darkness itself seemed to thicken around her.

The sparrow’s hand trembled, still holding the roasted meat. He swallowed hard. Dead. I’m already dead.

Kaya didn’t move at first, just let him squirm under her shadow. Then, with a slow tilt of her head, she spoke in a voice so calm it sent a worse chill than shouting ever could.

"So... bugs for me, and a hidden feast for yourself?"

Her eyes dropped to the roasted meat in his trembling hand, then lifted back to him, sharp as daggers.

The sparrow’s throat bobbed as he forced out a nervous laugh. "N-no, you’ve got it wrong. I was just... taste-testing. To make sure it’s safe!"

Kaya arched a brow, lips curling in the faintest, dangerous smile. "Safe, huh? Then eat the bugs. All of them. Right now."

His face turned pale.

The sparrow froze. "W–wait, you’re serious? You actually want me to—"

Kaya’s smile widened just a little, sharp as a blade. "Did I stutter?"

He looked at the wriggling pile of bugs still crawling over the ground. His stomach twisted just watching them. "B-but I’m not hungry!"

Kaya crossed her arms and leaned against the tree, eyes cold. "Then choke on them. At least one of us will sleep satisfied tonight."

The sparrow gave her a pitiful look, but when she raised her fist slowly, he panicked, snatched up a fat white worm, and shoved it into his mouth. His whole body shuddered as he chewed, eyes watering, wings twitching in misery.

Kaya finally turned her back on him, muttering with disdain, "Useless bird." She lay down again, but the corner of her lips tugged upward as his muffled gagging filled the silence.

Kaya leaned back against the tree, arms crossed, eyes closed, as though she had sealed herself off from the world.

The sparrow tilted his head at her, a hint of guilt flickering in his eyes. "Are you not gonna eat?" he asked, voice softer this time.

Kaya didn’t bother opening her eyes. She just waved her hand lazily. "I’m not the type to snatch food. If you’ve brought it, it’s yours. Keep it." Her tone was flat, steady, but there was something underneath it — a quiet pride, maybe even weariness.

The sparrow looked at the small bundle in his hands. The fruits, the roasted meat, the food he had been hiding. For a long moment, he didn’t move. His wings twitched as if words wanted to escape, but none came.

In the silence, Kaya’s breathing evened out, though her stomach growled faintly. She ignored it, leaning further into the rough bark of the tree.

The sparrow sat cross-legged across from her, staring at the bundle, then at her, then back at the bundle again. For once, he had nothing to chirp about.

.

.

.

soon as the first light of dawn touched Kaya’s face, her eyes fluttered open. The air was still heavy with the chill of night, a faint mist lingering, but she knew this was the best time to leave. She tightened the strap of her bag across her shoulder and glanced at Sparrow.

He had already shifted into his sparrow form, tucked into himself, wings folded neatly, breathing softly in sleep. For a moment, Kaya paused. She could have woken him—but why? Even if he lagged behind on foot, in the sky he would catch up with ease. And truthfully, she didn’t need him to follow her now. So she let him be.

Turning away, she started down the other path. This one led through a narrow cut in the land—calling it a valley would be too generous. It was more like a passage carved between two mountains, where time and stone had pressed together to leave only a sliver of space. Another jagged outcrop—perhaps a mountain, perhaps only an enormous boulder—had wedged itself there, shaping the place into a natural corridor.

The passage was so thin that Kaya wondered if anyone broader than her could have entered at all. She slipped through, the cold rock brushing her arms, each step careful and quiet. Places like this were more dangerous than open roads. Danger didn’t always come from what you could see ahead—sometimes it hid above, or between the shadows of stone.

Kaya, still threading her way through the narrow pass, had no idea that a storm had already broken within the Vulture Tribe.

Veer had returned earlier than usual, finishing his work in haste, eager to surprise her. He pushed open the door, expecting warmth, the familiar scent of food, perhaps her voice—but instead, silence greeted him. The house was stripped of its usual signs of life. The table was bare. No bowls, no food, nothing.

His steps grew slower as he approached Kaya’s room. Even before his hand touched the door, he knew. The air was too still. The soft rhythm of her breathing—always there—was gone.

The basket in his hand slipped, crashing to the floor. Dried fruits rolled across the wooden planks, almonds scattering, a small block of cheese breaking apart. The sound felt louder than it should, echoing in the emptiness.

Veer rushed forward, flinging the door open with urgency. The room lay bare. The bed was neatly made, untouched—but when Veer crossed the threshold and pressed his palm to the blanket, it was cold.

Veer’s chest tightened as he spun around, his steps echoing harshly against the walls. He hurried toward the bathroom and shoved the door open. His eyes immediately dropped to the floor—stone, dry as dust. His breath hitched. These floors never dried so easily, not overnight. Which meant—no one had bathed here last night.

Kaya hadn’t been here.

His jaw clenched, teeth grinding as his anger began to boil. He turned sharply, storming into the kitchen. The shelves still held their ration stock, untouched. No meat boiled, no fruit cut, no fire lit. His gaze fell on a small basket pushed to the side.