Somewhere in the night, he heard a sound; a dull, trepid thud that startled the creature within and made him turn, anxious and afraid of the source—imminent. Approaching.

There was nothing behind him. The room remained fairly lit, doors closed and everything else in the world left where it should have been.

He made the decision to return to his humble dinner that consisted of miso soup and a bowl of rice, then, upon further consideration, thought against it. He rose, quietly, and checked his master's room.

Nothing was out of the ordinary. Windows were examined, and doors scrutinised for any sign of damage but he returned to the dining table, unable to comprehend the sudden emptiness of his world.

The nightingale brushed the thought aside.

Perhaps it was the wind.

__________________________

There was a dull thud as a ball of white fell flat into a pool of blood, wings spread wide as it landed beside its Winged—limp and awry.

Blood was everywhere. It seeped through the earth and tainted the soil, splattered on the trunk of a nearby tree; sprayed all over the dried leaves that now clung to the body that was still. Red lapped against his neck, still desperate. Flesh and bone was visible from where the vulture was standing.

He was backed away, eyes wide and afraid. "What?" He tore his gaze from the body.

"Oh, you speak too?" Reux mused as he wiped the blood off his dagger, "same. I mean, it's a rule so we don't usually do all that in front of the prey, but since there's none of that around." He shrugged.

Vaughn was not feeling too well. Light-headed, he reached out to a nearby tree for support and stared at the shrike. His leader. "Excuse me?"

"Are you alright, scavenger?" Reux stepped over the owl's corpse and onto the owl's wing. It made no protest. "You look pale."

The question seemed impossible for him to answer. Was he alright? Surely, such a question was redundant, at most, irrelevant in the current context? He willed his eyes to examine Slayne's body, face-down, in the earth; limbs in complete disarray. Could he have saved him? Seconds ago, the owl was alive, speaking to him through an established Link and now, he was...was he?

Vaughn reached down, hovering his finger under the nose.

He was.

"Oh God," he bolted upwards and backed away at once, turning. "He's dead. Oh fuck."

"I mean, obviously." Reux was checking his shirt, slightly disappointed by the bloodstain on his upper sleeve. Inevitable, the blood would have splattered far since he'd slit the jugular vein and the windpipe. "Seriously, are you okay? You look as though you haven't killed someone before."

The shrike's Avian screeched a laugh at his reference. Reux himself was fairly surprised that the infamous vulture with a soul-stealing gun was wrought over the death of someone he barely knew.

"Are you kidding? I—" It was different. What he'd stolen were not the lives of his victims but their humanity, the individual living within, that was what he took. "You're insane."

A single glance at the blood-stained earth and the accompanying stench of iron and flesh defiled his senses. He was hit with a sudden wave of nausea and, unable to resist it, threw up at the root of a tree.

"You were as well," the shrike pointed out after sheathing his dagger. "They might as well be dead if they don't have the will to move," he shrugged once more, and his nonchalance seemed to reach its limit with the vulture.

"Yes but their hearts are beating and there's a difference you...oh God knows what you are."

Vaughn was at his tipping point. The gallons of blood that was flowing out of Slayne's body was beyond what he could manage on an ordinary basis and now that he could confirm the owl's passing, the onset of guilt overwhelmed his cage and he was drowning in it. Had he enough time to save the other? What could he have done? Stopped the flow blood—would it have been enough? Would he have lived? Would he have died either way? Was his attempt to save him enough?

Enough for what?

His head hurt and there was more to the guilt that sucked the living out of him. It took everything for him not to scream at the smiling shrike.

"I wonder what goes on in that twisted mind of yours. I hope you are aware that it is against the Order to kill predators, Reux. Are you not aware? Or are you just plain stupid?"

There was something wrong with what he was saying. Vaughn could hear a voice at the back of his head; one that sounded very much like a certain sparrow and made up the most of his current distress.

"Alekseyev!" Reux exclaimed, almost ecstatic. "You sound so sentimental that I'm about to cry. What do you care about this owl?" He kicked the body. "You know him? No you don't. So why the face?"

"This isn't about knowing him," Vaughn breathed deeply, hand over his eyes. "You don't understand, Yvonne you...you killed a predator."

"You were part of it," was all the shrike pointed out.

Vaughn was stunned.

"You told me to warn the intruder. You never said a thing about coming in the first place!"

"Of course I didn't," he said with a sigh, seemingly disappointed that he had to state the obvious. "I needed a distraction and you happened to volunteer yourself."

"Either way, I don't see your point," Reux squared his shoulders and pushed past the vulture. "You're strangely mindful of the little things, Alekseyev," he paused, as though in thought. "Sort of...weaker than I imagined you to be."

The word was enough to make him freeze and pull, firmly, on the reins of his creature that was about to escape. Emotion was a monster and monsters needed to be under the watch of an order, for without an order, it would run free in chaos and ruins.

Vaughn turned to the red earth.

"You're just going to leave the body?" He couldn't bring himself to say the name of the owl. "Here?"

Reux made a gesture of nonchalance, as though he couldn't understand what was so wrong about leaving a corpse in the middle of a forest. Vaughn pulled back.

"That's disgusting, it's—"

"Bait. It's bait," the shrike said over his shoulder, seemingly tired of explaining. "You're surprisingly slow. I learnt this from you, Alekseyev! You left that canary girl by a tree knowing that the sparrow would come."

Vaughn could not process a word, having witnessed the physical death of a human before his very eyes. The blood, furling, pouring out of his mouth before he died and the eye that opened and closed and struggled to open again. "I...who are you waiting for?"

His laugh was simple and reserved—so quiet that the vulture could not tell if it was merely a part of his imagination.

"Who else?"

____________________________

A creature, foul and dark, lay hidden amidst the trees—waiting beneath the shadows for passing prey. Its presence was like a disease, the smell of rotting flesh marred by the scent of morning dew caught on the edges of leaves only to fall, splattering on the forest floor where it polluted the earth. That was how the smell had come about.

Its origins remained unknown to those trapped within the Box, including Iolani Tori who had dwelled on Reux's absence for the past half an hour.

The inch of discomfort that had invited itself into his cage first began when Reux—having patted his head in the most oppressive manner—bid him farewell thirty minutes ago and took off in his Avian form, seemingly after Vaughn.

Io was only able to make the latter conclusion because the shrike had set off mere seconds (or minutes, he didn't quite know for time within four walls felt awfully distorted to him) after Vaughn had. It was far too strange for him not to notice.

Did Reux plan this? Did he expect this very thought to cross his mind? How far ahead did he think? On instinct, he reached into his bad of sunflower seeds and...

Oh.

Alas, the sparrow had expected this to happen. He felt in his pockets for remains then moved on to his jacket, all while pretending to chew, very slowly, on his last sunflower seed. He peered, once again, into the empty paper bag of sunflower seeds just to confirm his hypothesis.

It was official.

Io had run out of sunflower seeds and shells. A quick assessment of his current outlook made for the conclusion that an absence of action would result in the futility of his previous plans. The further they (as in, the flock of unfriendly and intimidating Hearts) traversed—Io supposed, in some specific direction which was strategic in a sense—the lower his chances of having anyone follow his trail and identifying his exact whereabouts. Something had to be done.

He reached up to tap the shoulder of the Heart on his right, a sea eagle that Reux had appointed second in command. Or at least a replacement in his stead, Io supposed.

The sea eagle glanced at Io and nodded upwards with a frown. Io interpreted it as a brusque 'what do you want' and started pointing to his feet and making tired expressions. The eagle was pretending not to notice. His squarish jaw clenched to appear apprehensive or intimidating, Io did not know, but he certainly had had enough of tall, wall-like men attempting to push him around so he didn't back down. Besides, Dmitri was taller than the sea eagle and the former turned out to be a complete joke, so.

Sleep. I. Want! Io gestured, placing his hands together and sticking them to the side of his face to indicate sleep before pointing to himself. He then held up an upside-down 'V' to represent himself and moved it sluggishly across his other arm to convey that he would walk very slowly if they didn't stop to rest.

Lyra chirped aggressively to help, but sea eagles were huge and a single glare was enough to keep her quiet.

Initially, no one had bothered to respond to his pleas, but Io made his point by dragging his feet and being the most uncooperative thing in the world (wait, wasn't he already one?) which severely annoyed the other seven or so predators.

I told you, Reux has bad taste. The eagle said through their Link, turning to the person behind. Step on the back of his feet. He'll walk faster that way.

Dude's not going to be happy if you treat his toy like that, the crow sighed, picking up his pace to actively step on the back of Io's sneakers. The sparrow yelped.

Someone laughed.

Stop it, said the raven in front, who turned behind and narrowed her eyes at those joking around. It's getting late anyway, Reux will return soon. In fact, he should've returned by now...he said that the vulture might need some help.

He's lying, missy. Who knows what he's up to now?

They were moving at a pace half their former and this proved to be the primary edge that jabbed at their feet, restless. Trees parted to reveal a creak, which Io forcibly stopped by to wash his face. Across the creak was a resting point, indicated by a camouflage tent propped up between two birches.

I swear, this is babysitting.

The raven internalized a growl. You all have so much to complain about. If we're not getting anything done then we might as well stop here and let that sparrow take a nap. She raised her gaze to check the time. Evening.

We'd cover a longer distance if it was my dead grandmother walking.

A series of snickers followed suit, leaving the raven feeling particularly drained.

___________________________

Minutes ago, Vaughn would have had an unobstructed view of the current situation—at the very least, the gist of what was happening within the walls of the Box. He prided himself on being aware of the world; even of things that did not concern him. The whereabouts of predator or prey, how close they were to running into him; these were things that Vaughn would store at the back of his mind once he entered the field.

But that was minutes ago.

Having witnessed the shedding of blood, he felt the settling of a dark cloud—imminent—upon his sky and the shrouding of his cage that obscured the very thing he wished to see. What was going on?

Dark spots appeared but he failed to connect one to the other for there was something in his way but the vulture knew not what it was. He searched for the 'why's and the 'how's, only to register that the 'what's were amiss. Everything did not seem to fit in the Order of the island and although Vaughn had become fairly accustomed to the disorder that was himself, the thought of one existing externally (one that wasn't Iolani Tori) was frankly frightening.

He shifted his gaze to the back that lead him ahead. A stature that spoke oddly of wry confidence and indifference. An indifference that was uncharacteristic of any human being, even Luka Sullivan faired better on the scale.

Reux did not seem to care about the value of life. While it wasn't quite as though Vaughn knew or understood the philosophical side of things (he didn't fare very well in the class that he so coincidentally shared with the painful Socratic child Iolani), he acknowledged the importance of a life for its instrumental value, at the very least.

It was his knowledge of such that made him particularly apt in creating and maintaining a mask for himself.

Reux on the other hand, did not blink at the sight of blood or even hesitate to proceed with the act of a...a murder.

Slayne Castor was gone forever. The fact began to sink into his mind and render the vulture more anxious than he anticipated. The owl had a prey, didn't he? Not that it mattered to Vaughn—in fact it shouldn't matter at all. The prey would be free without a predator, wouldn't he? How lucky. He must be ecstatic.

Vaughn was not very good at convincing himself.

*

An osprey swerved, recklessly, into the flight path of a golden eagle—flapping hard to steer herself clear and stop her momentum. Luka ducked, dropping several altitudes to avoid crashing into Shri but the falcon that was drafting off the eagle in front of him failed to respond as instantaneously as the other could and hence rammed himself right into Shri's left wing.

The pair fell into an instant drop several meters in height before either could attempt to regain their balance. So much for remedial classes.

Holy shit girl, watch where you're going! Why'dyou cut into our flight path like that? I'm telling Viktor, complained Dmitri through their established Link, which did not seem to be functioning minutes ago when Shri attempted to call out and catch their attention.

She had a feeling that the primary cause was the owner of the Link: Luka, who had conveniently silenced every thought except that which concerned a certain sparrow.

If you're telling on anyone, that would be Luka. He sealed our Link, so I couldn't get to either of you, she said as they hovered mid-air, waiting for the news. Forget that, Slayne and I found something. It's a trail of sunflower seeds—I mean, their shells. Not the seeds. You get what I mean.

The osprey didn't bother finishing as soon as she caught a spark in Luka's eye.

Where?

North-west—ah no, it's north-east for you but since we're ahead it might be south-west. Shit, I don't know. Slayne's got to be close by now, it's been some time since we split up. He went after the trail.

A general direction was enough for Luka to start. Knowing what to look out for was key and it was easy to track with the eyes of an eagle. He turned to Shri.

Tell the rest. They should be further down.

I know, Shri was strangely urgent. The girl herself couldn't quite pinpoint what, exactly, the source of her unease was but it was present. Something wasn't right. But there's more. I saw a couple of Io's friends on the way. Okay, not a couple—just one: the girl in the wheelchair.

That girl? Dmitri cut in. I've seen Io with her several times. She's my prey's sister.

Right, whatever, I just. We need a plan, she finished, exhausted. I couldn't afford to stop because we'd be losing Io's trail. He doesn't have all the sunflower seeds in the world, for skies sake.

Already, Luka was taking off south-west. Shri, go tell the others. Ford, help Pipa.

Great, we're helping people now? Dmitri was conflicted. Okay but like, you do notice that this is a first for me, right?

_________________________

He was not flowing down the stream.

Io was floating in mid-air, watching as a stray cloud passed languidly in the night. It was dark out, but the world was very much alit to him, where he was. He felt as though he had been robbed of his five senses, replaced by a sixth in their stead. Io couldn't blink no matter how hard he tried to; in fact, he didn't have eyes—he found that he was the eye.

It was vision that he had. A point of vantage above the island, waiting for the search at a height so tremendous, it could fit in his palm.

He drew closer.

Now the walls of the box could be seen, clustered trees swaying every now and then to the chaos of a wind that he could not feel. Closer.

What was he looking for? The search had a purpose and Io could not afford to wander the night, meaningless in his pursuit. This was a dream, he knew. He was given the vantage point but where should he start to look for details?

Inside out. He found himself immediately, fast asleep in the tent of the resting point by the creak. The sea eagle was guarding the outside of the tent. Reux had not returned. There was a sudden additional member to the group—he didn't know his name, but he'd seen him for minutes after the opening of the gates. A bat. Speaking to the sea eagle.

He traced backwards, following the trail that he'd carefully planted. It would have been erroneous to say that he followed the shells of the sunflower seeds that he'd brought along—he didn't follow these, exactly. He couldn't see them.

Yet there was something about his point of vantage that bestowed upon him a vision unlike any other sense. He didn't know where it was coming from.

Gliding above the trees, he came upon the well he'd once passed—to which he recalled coming across an empty clearing before that and...

He stopped.

There was a shadow at the edge of the clearing, its shape for too abnormal to be passed off as a mere bush, part of the undergrowth. The canopies obstructed his view and Io had to draw closer, nearer to the shadow for the truth to be unveiled.

It was a hand. A hand attached to an arm and an arm attached to the body of a human that looked as though it had been swallowing the earth. The light paled and he noticed that the soil beneath the body was a shade darker than that of the clearing. It was crimson.

The face of the body could not be seen and there was little to no form of identification until what seemed like a white ball of feathers entered his field of vision. It lay beside its friend, wings awry; eyes closed and all of a sudden,

Io wanted this to be a dream.

He needed it to be.

___________________________

The nightingale was reading a book after dinner.

He sat by the window of his predator's room, gazing out into the night every now and then, wondering if his master would return early from the games; what special dishes he should prepare this time.

Returning. It was a momentous occasion for them both—for the lonely to be received by someone who would always be waiting for his arrival, and the waiter to be comforted by the presence of the one that they had been waiting for, and thus wait no longer. The return was intrinsic. It was necessary.

Now that it crossed his mind, Jiro found that it was particularly hard to make every return more special and extravagant than the last. All he did was made his master's favourite dishes, sang, and exchanged stories of what they did in each other's absence.

Come to think of it, receiving his master at the Arrival gate with a gift would make the day more special than it already was. Yes, that was what he should be doing. Along with a sentence or two on his notepad that would made his master feel welcomed. Yes, he should start with that.

Then nightingale was one to prepare his ingredients before-hand. He liked to think that certain things had a specific order to them, and it was proper and discipline to follow accordingly. He pulled out his marker and hovered it over paper. What should he say this time?

Something warm. Something new? Novel surprises were always preferred, after all. The devastating three-word phrase crossed his mind and a blush coloured his features at once. His master would be troubled with that phrase. He shouldn't say it then—it had to wait. He crossed out the three-word phrase and replaced it with something else.

Welcome Home!

_________________________

A/N: eeep it's been raining so much lately, or so Cuppie has noticed (are those your tears??? *takes out umbrella and hands you a tissue*). Take care since it's getting colder! I'll be updating a whole lot more when my exams end so :> YAY. 

I'm actually trying to churn out 5-6 chapters until Christmas so that I can write a Christmas special for you Stars hehe. Wheeeee

-Cuppie