Little Bird's POV
"Konkon feel really weak. It hurts here, here, and here," the bear cub whimpered, poking his paw pitifully across his belly and chest.
"Sister… Konkon is dizzy. I can even see two of your beautiful faces. Will I be okay? Will you carry Konkon until Konkon becomes fine, sister?" he added, voice barely above a breath, painting himself the pitiful picture of a dying prince.
From his perch high on the woman's shoulder, Snowy watched this absurd performance with the expressionless disdain only a tiny bird could manage. His tiny talons curled tighter into the fabric.
Hell, just watching the lousy act of that conniving furball trying to fish sympathy from their kind-hearted sister made his small feathers stand on end.
This plastic bastard. He's so fake! Faker than a wax-basket in a funeral!
Snowy grit his beak, his entire face twitching in silent agony. The sheer audacity of the crimson puffball playing victim in such a transparent ploy—it was almost criminal. Even so, he held back. For now.
That was, until—
Right before his round, unblinking eyes, the woman's face melted into a pool of affection, her voice a sugar-soaked coo.
"Of course," she said gently. "Sister will carry you like a baby for as long as you want. I'm sorry, Little Fluff. Sister went overboard, didn't she? I just couldn't help myself. You kids are too soft and too cute… especially our Little Fluff. I felt healed just hugging you."
Snowy flinched as if struck by lightning. His feathers stood on end. Healed? He turned a sickly shade of greenish-grey, which was a remarkable feat for a bird already dressed in white.
What in the great feathered abyss were they doing? Were they… were they flirting? In front of him? Without shame? Without fear? Without basic decency?!
Are they for real?
Shameless. Absolutely shameless. Are they seriously flirting right under his majestic beak?
"You… you feel healed when hugging me? Really?" Konkon stuttered, his ears flushing pink and his snout twitching with embarrassment. That little weasel had the gall to blush. To beam. As though basking on some cloud of euphoria.
Snowy wanted nothing more than to rip that cloud out from under him and watch him crash face-first into the dirt.
But still, that was him not the red luster of soft fur.
Her words— Ashta's words—must have melted the last of his common sense.
So, Konkon, mustering every ounce of clumsy courage in his chest, turned to look directly into her gentle, unguarded gaze. He swallowed thickly and began to speak.
"Sister can hug me for free. I don't mind at all even if you snuggle and kiss me. So, then… will Sister accept me as her ma—"
WHACK!
Before the word could escape, Snowy, unable to endure another syllable of this indecency, struck the top of Konkon's head like a divine hammer smashing a watermelon.
**
Crack!
In a faraway place, somewhere in the Beast Realm, the sharp sound of porcelain crushing in the young man's bare hands felt like a tormenting symphony.
At least for the aid who was crying pitifully, soundlessly, as he reluctantly let go of another silver coin that the inn helper snatched without hesitation after growing impatient with his clamoring.
"Young master! Please have mercy on this servant and stop giving my poor heart more shock!" He hollered to the brooding youth and shamelessly pulled his trouser pants, begging to be heard by the indifferent man.
"Do you intend to destroy all the cups in this inn? We barely began our journey and we're out of money! Young master, please hold back even a little whatever it is that angers you."
If this continues, they will definitely become beggars tomorrow.
"I've spend over half of our money to pay all the China cups you've broken! I beg you. Let's leave this place before you trash something more expensive."
"... Too noisy."
Sky spoke in sullen tone, his gaze darted outside the window as though looking at something Sid, couldn't follow. His glare was too fierce, the servant could swear it could curdle milk.
His young master has been acting weird lately. He would sit next to the window like a finely crafted statue of a peerless celestial untouched by the worldly affairs. It was a picture perfect image of his lord looking at a distance, in a trance if not for him suddenly breaking things like he had been angered by someone impudent.
Ever since he emerged from his solitary confinement and promptly announcing that he would leave Clan's territory, Sid felt like had been walking on thin ice every second of his puny little life.
Just when he had given up hope of changing the young man's mind, afraid to bear the brunt of whatever it is that makes him mad, the lad spoke sternly.
"Prepare to depart for the mountains. We're hunting an insolent fox tomorrow."
Mountains?
Fox? Does he mean those notorious face-changing gumihos?
"You, you don't mean the Thousands Beast Mountains, right? Right?!"
Oh gods, please let him say no! Ah! My life, not in that dangerous place with many ferals! I still haven't find a wife, why is this person trying to make my life hard?!
**
Back in the Feral Peak, the cub's head snapped forward with a squeak.
The audacity of this red twerp!
He what?! This lunatic wants her to accept him as WHAT?!
Snowy shrieked internally, practically vibrating with fury.
The bird fumed, wings bristling and pupils shrunken to pinpricks.
Konkon glanced up, dazed—and saw death staring back at him. A tiny, furious grim reaper cloaked in snowy white, perched high and glaring as if to say:
"Go on. Say it. I dare you. Say it, and I will shatter your filthy snout into crumbs."