– Saving A Strange Bird.

The forest was silent again, save for the faint rustling of leaves above. My breathing was uneven, my limbs aching from the brutal encounter moments ago. The metallic scent of blood clung stubbornly to my skin—mine, and the leopards'. My clothes were torn, my body sore, but I was alive.

For now.

I sheathed my dagger and began moving through the dense undergrowth, senses sharp, scanning my surroundings with every step. My head still throbbed faintly from whatever had pulled me here, but instincts honed over years of survival outweighed any confusion.

I needed water.

She walked quietly, her feet barely making a sound. She hadn't noticed how much time had passed, but now the golden hues of sunlight had vanished, replaced by the cool indigo of early night. Shadows stretched long across the forest floor, and the soft glow of the moon began to filter through the canopy overhead.

The moon filtered through the thick canopy, casting scattered silver patches on the forest floor. The air smelled fresh—damp earth, leaves, and something faintly floral.

Then I heard it.

The soft sound of water flowing somewhere nearby. My body relaxed slightly, my dry throat almost grateful at the mere idea. Quickening my pace, I moved toward it, carefully navigating between trees until the path opened up.

A serene lake stretched out before me, nestled between thick trees like a hidden oasis. The moonlight glimmered off the surface, ripples distorting its reflection. The sight alone felt like a rare stroke of luck in an otherwise chaotic situation.

I crouched by the edge, dipping my hands into the cool water. The blood on my skin swirled crimson as I scrubbed my hands clean. My reflection stared back at me—pale face, sharp eyes, messy hair, the familiar stoic mask I always wore.

I sighed quietly, letting the water cool my burning skin.

But then—

A faint sound.

My head snapped up, muscles tensing instinctively.

It wasn't far—a low, weak groaning sound, barely audible. I scanned the area, eyes narrowing. The sound came again, softer this time, like something—or someone—was struggling to breathe.

I stood up silently, dagger already in my hand.

There. Behind a cluster of trees, something flickered, catching the moonlight. Purple…?

I moved cautiously, each step calculated. The forest was still too unfamiliar, and after that leopard ambush, I wasn't about to let my guard down.

I rounded the tree—and froze.

Lying amidst the grass was a massive bird, unlike anything I had ever seen. Its feathers shimmered a deep violet, like amethyst spun into silk. Majestic and striking, yet clearly in pain. Its wings were half-spread awkwardly, one side soaked in blood. Up close, it was easily the size of a horse, its sharp beak parted slightly as it let out another weak noise.

For a long moment, I simply stared.

A strange bird, in a strange forest, in a world I didn't recognize.

Cautious didn't even begin to describe how I felt.

What the hell is this place?

I kept my distance, eyes trained on it. Even injured, a creature like this could be dangerous. But then I noticed the gashes along its side—deep claw marks, similar to those the leopards left on me.

They must've smelled its blood, too.

The bird's breathing was shallow, labored.

It wouldn't last long like this.

Something inside me clicked.

I could've walked away. Self-preservation was my first instinct—always had been. But staring at its wounded form, something in me paused.

Years in the underworld taught me that weakness gets you killed.

But it also taught me how to patch up wounds.

I stepped forward slowly, crouching down at a safe distance, my eyes locked on the bird's half-lidded gaze. It didn't even flinch. Either it was too weak to notice me, or it simply didn't care anymore.

Reaching into the inside pocket of my clothe, I pulled out a small roll of bandages and a compact pouch. Thankfully i always keep them with me.

Every assassin worth their life knew how to treat injuries, and I was no different. You never knew when backup would fail, or when you'd be left bleeding out alone.

I carefully approached its side, fingers nimble, movements quiet. Its feathers glowed faintly under the moonlight—otherworldly, almost mesmerizing.

With deft hands, I inspected the wounds, noting the depth and angle. Leopard claws, as expected. Fortunately, nothing fatal yet.

I worked quickly—cleaning the cuts with the water I fetched in my palm, using the herbs tucked in my pouch to prevent infection. The bird barely stirred, but I could feel its shallow breaths against my arm as I wrapped the bandages tightly around its injuries.

Strange.

It felt… calm.

For such a wild, enormous creature, it didn't struggle, didn't resist. Just watched me quietly, its eyes a sharp shade of violet, almost intelligent.

Once the last bandage was secured, I wiped my bloodied hands on my trousers and leaned back on my fee, studying it for a moment longer.

There was something unsettlingly majestic about it. Like it belong in this world— unlike me.

I exhaled, muscles finally loosening slightly.

The exhaustion from before caught up to me all at once, heavy and pressing. My body screamed for rest, but I hadn't let my guard down since the moment I opened my eyes in this strange place.

Still… I couldn't keep going forever.

I gave the bird one last glance, checking its breathing. It was stable, for now.

I leaned back against the rough bark of a nearby tree, the cool surface grounding me. The moonlight filtered through the leaves above, painting shadows on my skin.

I just need to close my eyes for a moment…

My dagger remained loosely in my grip as my eyelids grew heavier, every muscle in my body screaming for reprieve. The sounds of the forest faded into the background, blending with the soft, rhythmic breathing of the bird beside me.

And before I realized it—

Sleep pulled me under.

For the first time since arriving in this strange, silent world, my mind finally allowed itself to shut down.

The night carried on, the cool breeze rustling the leaves. Neither the lake nor the trees offered answers to where she was, or why she had been dragged here.

But for now, the blood had been washed away, and the predators were gone.

And somewhere in the dark, a giant purple bird lay bandaged, breathing softly beside the infamous White Fox—both strangers, both survivors.