Get up, Victoria pecked at the covers that were draped over her Winged. Put some clothes on.

Luka raised his arm that was heavy, smacking Victoria's head in the process in which she returned with a temperamental nip of his hand. The Avian screeched once, darting across the room to perch on her favourite windowsill as she shook her head disapprovingly at the scene before her eyes. Insufferable. What is with you? Heat's almost over—it's been five days! Get up. Get up now.

He laughed dryly, unentertained by her reasoning. For some strange reason, the eagle was feeling awfully drained as though the river that ran through his heart had somehow run dry and loveless. There were many possible reasons for such an occurrence; one of them being the after-effects of heat, and that was the empty chill that was left behind in place of the summer heat that once raged in his cage. Victoria thought so, but Luka himself was not so quick to conclude.

There were many reasons and some—he already knew.

"What?"

His Avian brushed aside the mild hostility in his voice, choosing instead to focus on the question at hand. I'm starving for some rabbit. Famished. In fact, an occasional sparrow wouldn't do too badly either.

Luka narrowed his eyes at this. He had been half awake and was harbouring slight affections for another nap before his Avian's rude declaration, obviously to gain his attention.

"What are you getting at?"

Nothing. Nothing at all, Victoria hummed as she folded her wings and stared out of the window. We haven't seen him for days.

The eagle sighed, taking in the raw sensation of air against his skin as he sat up, covers falling from his chest that was bare. This, he felt as though he hadn't experienced for a long time—perhaps usually accompanied by the dull hum of summer heat wrapping around his entire being, locking him within and keeping his heart constantly erratic. It wasn't uncommon for Luka to rise one morning in heat only to see that another part of him had, so naturally, been roused as well.

At least he didn't need to take care of that today.

Are you even listening? Victoria landed on the bedpost near his feet. I said we haven't seen him for days.

Luka made a vague sound of acknowledgement. "And?"

And it's mostly your fault, as far as I am aware, Victoria quipped sharply. Humans. Always shifting the blame while forgetting to look at themselves.

Her Winged remained silent, staring at a spot on the marble floor, thinking nothing. Victoria wasn't entirely right about Luka shifting the blame. In fact, he hadn't thought about the reason behind their silent withdrawal from each other at all, let alone assigning blame. That said, his Avian had a fair point as well.

"It was the heat."

The heat? Victoria snorted, is that how you're going to explain it to Io? That his scent was far too pleasant for you to even say a word to him? She laughed mockingly. You're a coward, Luka.

He extended a hand with the intention to knock his Avian off her high horse. She however, avoided this promptly by finding refuge on a sturdy lamp high up the wall. Both glared. There was a moment of pause before Luka came to register his presence in the external world; it felt as though he was waking from something, from sleep or a dream, something intangible and sublime. He felt the need to do something but knew not what—something to confirm his existence.

I hope what you're feeling is disappointment. You should, really—I am quite disappointed with you.

The chaste whisper of rain against windows filled the silence, creating the illusion of a heart that was calm until a flash of lightning broke their peace and the whisper turned into a roar.

Luka turned to the jug of water on his bedside table, pouring himself a glass and downing it in seconds. There was a vague remembrance that intruded his otherwise quiet cage in that moment, which turned out to be the troubling fact that he might have missed homeroom.

What a dreadful storm, Victoria sighed, feathers ruffled. She watched as Luka pulled out his uniform from the closet before tossing it in the general direction of his bed. Might as well sleep in! Not as if you'd pay any attention to your classes today—

He entered the bathroom and closed the door behind him, wondering if he should bring an umbrella or two.

_________________________

Without a doubt, Iolani Tori came unprepared. He had been standing at the entrance of the predator's dormitory for the past half hour, staring at the glass doors that remained closed as he waited out in the rain—braving the storm that would have otherwise swept him off his feet if not for the intense effort he made to root his feet to the ground. He turned to Lyra, bracing himself for a lecture worthy of a tree sparrow.

Eager as you may be, Io, I'm afraid this is it, a well-deserved sigh interrupted his thoughts. I hope you've learnt your lesson. You had absolutely no means of finding Luka—no plan at all! To think I tagged along; and in this awful weather as well, my...I hope you have a warm towel prepared for my nest. Yes, that will appease me. Only that, mind you.

Io laughed in defeat, turning to glance at the doors for one last time.

His heart weighed in his cage as he took a step in the direction of home; wondering if he could see the eagle anytime soon. Thoughts strayed—the prospect of him having done something that severely angered his friend skittering around in his cage, nowhere near inconceivable. What if Luka did not want to see him?

Why, that was entirely probable as well. What then?

Should he do away with selfish desires and respect the eagle's decision? But did he know his decision? And if so, would respecting his decision be euphemizing his cowardice? For they were two dishes to one end—a wall. The wall between them.

The creature within his cage came to a halt, quiet rain lulling it back to sleep where he chose to listen, instead, to the world beyond his mind.

His umbrella trembled in the wind, ravished by the storm and its whisper against its surface, flushed pink. Lyra protested, but her voice was masked by the heavy grey that raged above. He trudged back to the main building, soaked from head to toe with his poor umbrella—quite destroyed.

*

Io was about to climb the first flight of stairs in rain-filled shoes when someone called out to him. It didn't take long for him to realize who it was, really. He already knew before he turned.

"Pipa?"

The canary wheeled in vigorously, poor arms aching in protest yet veiled by the smile she would constantly have upon her lips. "Io? I was just going to the dining hall to see if you were there! Where were you? You're soaked!"

Oh.

Oh, he had forgotten that Pipa would be released today, this very morning. He had hoped to be there, to congratulate her for braving through the heat for he understood that it was tough. It had to be, to some extent at least.

He swallowed the guilt that rose from his cage, thoroughly embarrassed upon hearing the excitement in her voice as he came to understand that while he had been searching for someone, others had been searching for him as well. It brought about a vague understanding of sadness—a cycle that was eternal. That it wasn't rare for the people who were loved often did not return such feelings on the same level. It was remarkably tragic, how this seemed to happen so often.

And yet so...awfully beautiful.

"I'm alright, really!" The immense guilt within bubbled over at the sight of her eyes that looked distraught over the miserable state of his clothes. "Just a bit of rain. My umbrella's too small."

She laughed at this, warning the sparrow that should he do that again, a cold would be due. "Have you had lunch?"

"Not yet. Have you? I, uh," the boy paused, hesitant. He debated on the truth—whether it should be spilt or swallowed.

"Oh, were you busy?" Pipa caught on immediately. "It's okay! I mean, it's just a meal. I can go ahead by myself."

Io didn't know what to say.

"It's nothing! It's fine, really. Just...um. Actually, I was...looking for someone—"

"Luka?"

The sparrow blinked. "Y-yeah."

"Do you know where he is?"

He hadn't expected her to hit the nail on the head; in fact, Io took quite some time before he could recover completely. Had he been so obvious about it?

"No, not really. I was going to see him at his dorm but um," he laughed sheepishly, "I don't know his room number."

Pipa rolled her eyes, poking his elbow. "What? Just that and you're ready to give up? You really are a sparrow aren't you."

Lyra was quick to add that not all sparrows were quick to give things up. Io folded his arms. "The school's huge, alright? And what can I do about his room number?"

"Ask around!" The canary burst out laughing as though it was the most obvious thing to do. "If it's you, I'm sure you've made a couple of predator friends by now." And by this, Io had to admit that his friend had a point.

"Okay, okay—you're right...but I can't possibly leave you on your own, Pipa," he huffed with supposed finality, but his fellow prey pushed him aside.

"What are you talking about?" Pipa clicked her tongue firmly. "It's been days since you spoke to Luka, get your priorities straight Io." He was appalled by her sixth sense. As far as Io was aware, he had been terribly careful not to mention a thing about the recent gap between Luka and himself.

Composing himself required some time. "I—what...how did you know? And don't make me repeat myself alright, I know I'm stubborn," he said immediately when Pipa raised a hand to interrupt him, "but I'm not going to leave you—"

"Fine, then I want to see Luka too, okay? Happy?" She rolled her eyes with a clever smile and Io was officially defeated.

*

Two umbrellas did not make things easier. Both Iolani Tori and Pipa Felice arrived inside the predator's dorm soaked from the rain.

One of them sneezed.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Io bit his lip, wringing his blazer dry. "I don't mean to be rude but...you're prey and, um, you might have the...the," the reaction, he meant to say, but couldn't seem to get it out of his mouth. He had been searching for a word to describe the dull, slithering darkness that coiled around their necks at the sight of every predator. Glad that he was no longer familiar with it, the boy had abandoned the search somewhere along the way. It was far from pleasant.

"Don't worry about me. There's a guide over there—let's see what it says," Pipa directed his attention elsewhere, seemingly more involved in the search than Io himself was. "I remember my brother saying something about hearts having larger rooms. More luxurious ones. Oh, he's a heart, by the way. My brother's predator," she added suddenly, strangely shy.

They inspected the guide.

1st-3rd FLOOR: MID TIER

4th FLOOR: LOW TIER

6th FLOOR: HEARTS

His first thought was to question the lack of a fifth floor. Every ordinary human being would have, eventually.

"What's on the fifth floor?" Io turned to Pipa with a frown in which she returned with a shrug.

"What makes you think I know about their inability to count? Might have been a printing error, I suppose." Nevertheless, both understood that this was rather unlikely. For the entire predator's dormitory to be designed to perfection and a minor printing error as their only flaw would have been thoroughly disappointing. Io began to wonder just how it was possible for Pipa and him to make their way to the sixth floor without a fifth.

"Right, let's—"

Footsteps.

The rain's whisper was a cry all of a sudden; before it calmed and resumed hushed tones of the sky. Someone else had entered the main lobby.

Officially speaking, neither of them had to be afraid. It wasn't as though Pipa and Io were breaking the rules, no. In fact, it was a well-established fact that prey could enter the predator's dormitories as long as they were escorted or accompanied by a predator. Since Io himself was now a predator (and a Nocturne to say the least), there was, really, nothing they should be afraid of but naturally, they were.

Io turned quickly to meet the eyes of the stranger but found himself quite frozen in place. He had a vague recollection of his face. The stranger's. There was something dark about this coincidence, this meeting. Lyra was afraid—he could tell she was, her tiny feet were restless.

"Oh," the man smiled oddly as his gaze rested on the pair, "what a...pleasant surprise."

At this, Io registered that the man was part of Falrir's Order. He had been seated on the headmistress' far right, and barely spoke during the evening of his judgement. The sparrow didn't know what to think of this at all.

"Good afternoon, sir," he began carefully, noticing at the corner of his eye that Pipa had unconsciously lowered her head.

"What business do you have here, Iolani Tori?" The man narrowed his eyes, strangely able to keep up with the smile he had on before. "I see you have a...friend."

"Yes, sir. We were looking for someone."

"Ah, that explains things." The man from Falrir's order nodded in understanding. He made a show to leave the lobby, drifting away from the entrance and towards the stairs on their left while leaving the pair quite relieved indeed until—

He stopped.

There was an odd clicking sound coming from behind that Io had noticed only now, and when he finally turned around to register what it was, he had quite a scare.

Another vulture. He couldn't tell what it was, no—it was huge and that was when its wings were folded. Io did not want to imagine what it would look like with its wings spread wide he simply believed it would be his next nightmare. Unlike Viktor's however, they were an earthly shade of brown with pale, downy feathers tucked at the area near its neck and somewhere hidden underneath those wings.

It stared at him with one eye.

"No it doesn't actually, no," the man turned around quite suddenly. "It doesn't explain things at all."

He approached the pair slowly and Io found this predicament very, very dangerous for both himself and Pipa. It was his cue to remain silent. If this man was a vulture, he would very likely be against him already. As far as he knew, vultures hated him.

"What is a prey doing here, Iolani Tori?"

It was a simple question.

The sparrow swallowed whatever unease that arose from his cage, gathering a heated courage that spoke for him instead. "This is Pipa Felice. She is a canary, yes—but as long as she is accompanied by a predator here, I don't see a problem. Sir."

He received a fair sound of surprise in return. "Her? No, no Tori, of course I understand but—you?" That was when Io realized that the vulture was not smiling. It was never intended as a smile, no.

"You're a sparrow."

It was a mask.

"Leave. Now."

____________________________

The ache in his head refused to subside.

Vaughn Alekseyve had returned to his room quite some time ago to lie down—rest in peace, or so he would have thought—but his step-brother wasn't going to make this an easy task for him to complete. For the past hour, he was obliged to run through the names of each and every student in his homeroom class and relay to Viktor their qualities, as though the mere sight of them wasn't enough to incite a pain that drilled into his temples.

"Luka Sullivan," Jae-min pointed at yet another name. "Didn't even turn up for class. I suppose he's a rebel?"

The vulture sneered with a vengeance. "Stupid person."

While Jae-min was trying hard not to laugh at his younger brother's awfully cheesy and simplistic response, Vaughn was eager to dispose of the absurd scene he had witnessed by his window in the afternoon.

What he saw was a sparrow struggling in the rain with a small, pink polka-dotted umbrella (that incredibly insulted Vaughn's sense of taste while assaulting his eyes all at once), making his way towards what seemed like the predator's dormitory when a few minutes earlier, he had seen a golden eagle fly in the opposite direction—towards what he cleverly assumed was the prey's dormitories.

It was an absurdly disgusting sight that Vaughn had the unfortunate privilege of seeing. So unfortunate. So, very unfortunate.

How nice it must be for those two idiots to like each other so immensely; how terribly nice it was. Vaughn absolutely could not wait to see them destroyed, just like how every friendship was destined to be: crushed to pulpable bits and thrown into the depths of—

"Eve!" Jae-min was laughing. "Why the fuck are you glaring at your eraser?"

*

After having wronged his eraser for the third time of the day, Vaughn decided to put a temporary stop to his written assignments and was feeling immensely drained by the time dinner came around. Jae-min was obliged to show up at the high table this evening, considering the fact that he had completely skipped Io's ceremony the night before.

"You're not coming?"

Vaughn shook his head warily, retreating to the corner of his couch. "I'm fine over here."

"Eve, you have to eat something or I swear your dick's going to rot, so—"

"I'm not a child Viktor," the younger one snapped indignantly. "I know my privates don't rot just because I skipped a meal, okay?"

Jae-min stifled a laugh. "Fine, yes. You win. Don't want to eat? Good. Starve in your corner over there." Vaughn was about to add that his worries were completely unnecessary seeing that there were tons of instant noodles stacked in his kitchen cabinets but his step-brother did not turn around for a second glance before closing the door behind him, leaving the latter quite confused.

He wasn't sure if he considered the cliff-hanger conversation to be the main cause of a fleeting unease skittering around his cage or if it was the surprisingly quipped tone that Jae-min had used when banishing the vulture to his 'rightful corner'. Whichever it was, it wouldn't be much of a concern to Vaughn. After all, how was he to care for the emotions of others when he could barely handle his own?

The vulture caught a glimpse of a spark—the setting of the sun reflected against his glass of water, a shard in his eye. He got up to lower the blinds, flinching as his bare feet came in contact with the marbled floor.

The afternoon storm had reduced itself to a harmless shower, drumming, every now and then, against his windows that were cold to touch. Vaughn was about to reach for the blinds when something else caught his eye.

He thought it was a trick of the light—just a dark spot caused by the temporary glimpse of the sun from before—but something willed him to give a second glance and he saw that he was wrong. There, he saw something else.

It was a sparrow. A sparrow with an umbrella over his head; and an eagle. An eagle with an umbrella over his head and another in his hands—they were together.

Vaughn paused by the window, mildly disturbed by the fact that he could very possibly be witnessing a private moment of intimacy or affection and feeling the severe need to turn away. Yet, he didn't.

Perhaps it was the heat of the moment, triggered by the intensity of the setting sun encouraged by its light and perfected by a dull curiosity resting in the vulture's cage—he stared.

He felt the need to see—an excuse formulated in his head that went along the lines of watching out, keeping his eye on danger so as to ensure that the sparrow was in check but was that really it?

The bond of predator and prey drew not one but many. It was a curious, curious thing and it was as beautiful as it was dangerous but perhaps it was this very danger that made it seem so beautiful. Sparrow and eagle were together but they did not seem to speak very much.

In fact from where Vaughn was standing, he barely saw their lips move an inch, let alone the rest of their bodies and for all intents and purposes, they appeared to him like statues in the rain—but then it appeared.

It emerged as soon as the blinding sun drew the curtains of day and sunk deeper in its sleep; the moon. The light.

Vaughn could barely keep his eyes on the boy for it was large—far too large for the naked eye so vast it was sublime; he felt as though he was staring at the moon just that the moon was in his face.

The vulture's first sighting was one he'd remember for life. Luna was like the dragon, Falrir, just in a shade he never knew existed in this world so dark to him.

She was lithe but her wings—he could tell even when they were folded—extended beyond the reach of every sky and he realized that there was no sighting that could contain her might in a single line of sight.

Her natural glow was getting to him. He had to look away. He had to; he must. In fact, he must believe that he couldn't see. Why could he see? There was no explaining it.

There was a moment of pause whereby the silence rang in his ears until a small, flickering light—almost like a breath of the night—surfaced at the back of his mind and he heard. He heard her.

You can see me.

He turned in surprise and she, the moon phoenix, was staring right into his darkness.