The Horse, The Cheater and The Pea-Cock

It had been two whole weeks since that disastrous first encounter with the beasts and the tamers on Qi Mountain. And somehow, here they were, limping their way down the steep hill, half starving, emotionally broken, and most importantly, still very much alive. Barely.

Jin, the centaur, looked like he couldn't care less. If anything, he was even more indifferent than usual, which, considering his general 'I-was-born-this-way' attitude, was saying something. The only thing betraying any semblance of effort was the barely audible clink of the now almost empty food bag he was carrying. The thing was almost as empty as their stomachs, but Jin wouldn't even flinch. No food, no problem. Just another day in his eternal, apathetic existence.

"You're really not even going to look at the food? You know it's going to get cold, right?" Shasha's voice, soft and unsure, broke the silence. She looked absolutely miserable, like someone who had just been dragged through a mud pit of her own mistakes—because, well, she kind of had. But no one here was going to give her any sympathy. Not when Jin was carrying the last scraps of food, and all she had to console herself with was her rapidly diminishing self-esteem and the existential weight of her choices.

Jin didn't even acknowledge her. If he could have rolled his eyes, he probably would've. Instead, he just kept plodding along, hooves making a soft clop sound on the dirt path. The centaur was really out here living his best, indifferent life.

And then there was the peacock. Oh, the peacock. It looked like it had seen better days—or, more accurately, it had seen better days. Now, it was dragging itself along like it was personally offended by the idea of moving forward. Its wings fluttered weakly every so often, but it barely made it more than a few steps before collapsing dramatically. If there was ever a creature whose soul was more fragile than its body, it was this peacock.

Shasha sighed, eyes filled with watery regret as she wiped a stray tear that had started to fall down her cheek. "I shouldn't have done that to Armin... I never meant for it to end up this way..."

It wasn't the first time she'd thought about it, of course. Since being left behind at the mountain, with nothing but two of Armin's beasts and a whole lot of self-loathing, Shasha had plenty of time to reflect. Too much time. And the result was always the same: guilt, guilt, and more guilt.

"I was emotionally loyal to him," she muttered under her breath, as if that somehow made up for cheating on him with Jin. "I just… I just wish he'd given me the chance to explain. If only he knew how much I really cared…"

Jin, who couldn't speak and wasn't interested in hearing her sob story anyway, shuffled a little faster, eager to put more distance between him and his increasingly whiny, self-pitying companion.

The Divine Forest. That was what lay ahead of them.

The task ahead of them was simple: cross the forest without getting eaten by whatever godforsaken beasts lurked inside. Easy, right?

Except it wasn't. This was the Divine Forest, the sort of place where beasts weren't just beasts—they were practically gods in their own right, and they had no qualms about feasting on anyone who wandered into their domain. Shasha had read the stories. She'd heard the warnings. And now, here she was, mentally preparing to get torn to shreds by a giant forest monster because she couldn't keep her hands (or heart) to herself.

"Hey, Jin," Shasha said, wiping away the last of her tears, determined to look more composed. "Do you think… do you think there's any chance we'll make it through without… y'know, being devoured?"

Jin glanced back at her, an unimpressed look in his cold, indifferent eyes. And just as quickly, he turned away, signaling his utter lack of concern for her very real fear of becoming a beast's afternoon snack.

Shasha huffed, looking at the ground. She had to keep it together. She had to focus.

"Right. No big deal," she muttered to herself, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. "It's just a forest of death with monsters. Totally manageable."

And with that, she took one shaky step forward, hoping no one would notice the trembling in her hands. "Well, here we are," Shasha said, her voice barely a whisper. "The edge of our doom."

Jin just stood there, staring into the depths of the forest with the same unbothered expression he always wore. If there was one thing that was both comforting and aggravating about Jin, it was his unwavering apathy. The centaur had never been the type to panic, which was great… unless you needed someone to, y'know, care.

"Alright," Shasha said, talking to herself now. "I'm ready. I've made my peace. If this is it, I just want Armin to know that—"

"Oh, for the love of the gods," Jin finally muttered under his breath. 

Shasha blinked, caught off guard. She stared after him for a moment, still processing the fact that Jin had actually spoken. "You can talk?!" 

But before Shasha could digest the fact that Jin could talk, A massive flaming rock came out of nowhere, as if the universe had a vendetta against them for no particular reason. It hit the ground with the kind of force that could only be described as 'oh no, we're getting cooked.'

"W-what the hell?!" Shasha shrieked, instinctively jumping behind Jin. Because, you know, the centaur was her personal shield from the universe's infinite cruelty. Jin didn't even flinch, but then again, the last time being the one when the tortoise rifted the mountain pathway weeks ago, perhaps it had made him tough.

As the flaming rock smoldered on the ground, the smoke cleared to reveal none other than Bao, the short, thick-necked, Mount Qi Tamer, her friend. He looked more charred than he had when they last saw him two weeks ago.

"Bao!" Shasha cried, her voice wavering like a broken record. She ran toward him, her soft, delicate hands trembling as she attempted to check if he was breathing—barely. His Qi was overflowing, which was just Bao's way of saying he was extremely pissed off, but also extremely hot- literally.

"I told them... I told them not to… I'm not…" Bao mumbled, a hot mess of burned skin and barely coherent thoughts. His words were half-garbled, but Shasha had gotten good at deciphering his slurred speech.

"What happened?!" she asked, trying to keep her voice soft, despite the obvious panic bubbling in her chest. "Where have you been for the past two weeks? The tortoise and tiger—"

"They're gonna kill me…" Bao wheezed. "They know… they know I'm a phoenix tamer…" He barely managed to finish his sentence before he collapsed dramatically onto the ground.

Shasha crouched next to him, feeling the intense heat radiating from his body. She could practically see the steam rising off him like he was some sort of fire-breathing kettle. "You're a what? Bao! Please stay with me! What—"

Before she could finish her frantic sentence, Bao fainted. His body hit the ground with a thud that made Shasha wince. Jin, as per usual, didn't even blink.

"What the hell," Shasha muttered, rubbing her temples in frustration. "He is really an elemental beast tamer? I thought he was bluffing."

The ground shook slightly as two heavy beasts landed behind her. Shasha's heart skipped a beat. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

Daiki, the wise, cynical, and utterly opportunistic black tortoise beast, landed with an air of arrogance. His massive shell scraped the earth as he settled, and the look in his beady eyes was pure mischief. If anyone could make 'wise' look menacing, it was Daiki. He might've been an ancient creature, but that didn't stop him from looking like he wanted to start some warfare.

Right behind him was Ping—the real reason Shasha didn't have the time to dwell on Bao's sizzling situation. Ping, the white tiger beast, was big, strong, and if not exactly bright, definitely fierce. Ping looked like the kind of guy who would rip you apart just for fun, and right now, his gaze was fixed on her with that unnerving 'I'm gonna eat you' look.

Well, there went any hope of a peaceful encounter.

Shasha swallowed hard. "Uh… Jin? I don't suppose you have a plan for this, do you?" she asked, still crouched next to Bao, trying to shield him from the two looming threats.

Jin's only response was to snort, the equivalent of an apathetic shrug, as if he couldn't care less about the two beasts circling them. It's not that he hated Shasha—he just didn't care about anything enough to not let her get eaten by a giant tortoise and a moronic tiger. Life was a game, and Shasha was just a pawn.

Daiki chuckled, the deep rumble vibrating through the ground. "Well, well, well. Look who we have here. The awakened little phoenix tamer," he drawled, his sharp, calculating eyes glinting with a knowing gleam. "Running away, aren't we?"

Shasha clenched her fists, trying to keep her composure. "I—I don't know what you're talking about!" She stammered, her voice faltering as she noticed Ping was now inching closer. "Please, can we just—"

Daiki raised an eyebrow, as if just now noticing her presence. Ignoring her, he motioned at Bao, who was still unconscious. "We can't have the birds know about you, pretty boy," he muttered, his face twisting into an evil grin.