The coming of February was not typically characterized by the wave of heat that stung Pipa in the face. Her eyes watered and she blinked, sitting up in bed before slumping back under the covers for there was an ache in her lower back that proved itself most uncomfortable to the canary.

Then the covers were uncomfortable as well and she groaned silently, sitting up again. She removed from the covers her legs that were dead, dangling them over the side of the bed, willing—for the fifth time of the day—for them to move. Alas, they remained limp and lifeless, almost as though the will was not her own and the legs; someone else's.

"Felice!"

She looked up. A nurse was coming towards her, eyes wide. "No, you are not allowed to go out."

"It's just along the corridor—I won't go any further. Really." The canary protested, feeling as though this wait for her friend was awfully drawn out and she didn't want to stay any longer because the infirmary was like an oven.

"No. Your lunch is prepared. You have to eat it," the nurse insisted, taking her legs by their ankles and placing them back where they belonged: under the covers. "I will be right back. Don't you dare move."

She moved Pipa's wheelchair two bed's across—out of her reach—to ensure this.

Pipa had wished to be in the chair before Io would arrive; so that she would appear, at least, ready to be discharged, looking pleasant enough to deflect the worries of the boy who often surfaced whenever she could not seem to move her legs.

Therefore, the brief and salient creak of the door came to her as a sad surprise.

"Io! I'll be ready soon so," she stopped.

It wasn't Io at the door—it was Luka.

Pipa would have apologized and at least corrected herself for her mistake but the double shock came to her as quite a blow. She had met his eyes by accident and felt the immediacy of fear seize the cage within, ratting its bars.

But there was something else—a stroking.

"Where is Io?" The eagle closed the door behind him, keeping his distance. Pipa was trying to deduce where his Avian was, but there was no indication of dark wings. Sylvey however, was quick to hide under the covers.

"He's...not here," the canary swallowed, speaking at a pace so slow she could hardly believe it. "You're looking for him?" Of course he was; why else would he ask? She chided internally. "I don't know where he is."

Luka approached.

And the moment was in his first step—he seemed to slow in Pipa's eyes and all of a sudden she was very aware of his presence and the urgency, the immediacy of the thing seizing her heart became far too strong for her to handle. He sat a bed away, facing away from the girl.

Pipa really didn't wish for him to stay since every passing second was like a plastic knife scratching the surface of cheap Styrofoam, but she voiced nothing. How to?

How to speak—when there was no permission and the lips sealed by fear not to be dispelled; how?

"You're...going to wait?"

Luka nodded silently.

"I don't know if he's going to come."

"He'll come," he dismissed easily—with or without an intention to disagree, she did not know.

Luka was hard to read, and it wasn't as if Pipa was the kind to read human being anyway. She understood that they were not books to be read. Just why would people compare them at all?

The air pulled taut, ready to snap. It was so hard to communicate with the eagle and Pipa couldn't tell whether it was just him she could not seem to speak to or whether this conjecture could be extended to the entirety of predators. Well no, obviously, she figured. Io was a predator as well.

"Who's that you're—oh," the nurse had returned with a tray of which consisted presumably of Pipa's lunch: mashed potatoes, raw baby carrots and garden salad. Of which all three were terrible, and only the carrots bearable when Io was around. "You've come to visit?" The nurse asked stiffly, directing the question to Luka.

He didn't explicitly deny; although Pipa was sure he would have inside.

"Alright," she closed an eye on his abrupt appearance, despite having lots to say whenever Io was around. "Suit yourself."

At least she had provided some sort of ease to the air that was taut with silence—but now that she had left, the predator and prey had returned to a state of stagnation.

Nothing was happening.

Pipa was not aware of the contempt that Luka had learned to breed within his cage; and that this very contempt was directed at herself. The eagle held very little affections towards Io's best friend, partly because she had hurt the sparrow before and partly because Io had forgiven her despite having done so. Luka didn't want her to be forgiven.

She was quite detestable in his eyes.

Anyone would be, really, if they so scratched the person he cared for.

Luka wanted to leave. But the prospect of Io coming here while he was gone was frustrating and certainly quite distasteful. He wanted to be here, especially whenever Pipa was around.

For some reason, the idea of Pipa having Io's full attention was...very distasteful indeed.

"Um, if Io comes, you should go have lunch together." The canary said to the air. "He's been wanting to for a long time."

Luka took this in with less than minimal scepticism. Io had been telling him that he missed having meals with Pipa in the dining hall. Strangely, every time he did so, the eagle detested her even more.

He looked at her for the first time. She seemed to have a nice neck.

Indeed, it was an odd thing to notice.

"I will," his building resentment said on his behalf. Luka didn't even bother to reason why she was being so nice. Didn't she want to have Io's time as well?

But since she offered, he would gladly accept. It was as simple as that—had she thought he would give courtesy to kindness?

Luka wasn't that sort. He wasn't so nice.

"Io likes to talk about you," Pipa kept up surprisingly well, but the eagle was not going to give her that. Not when she had a nice neck, no. She was unnecessarily attractive. Io had once complimented her looks as well.

"He said you were good-looking," she laughed small.

This was, by far, too much of a coincidence. Io had told Luka the same thing as well; now he was beginning to wonder if Io had meant any of it. "Really."

Glad that he had responded, Pipa was encouraged to carry on. "Mhm! He says that all the time actually. He said it once yesterday as well."

They met yesterday? Well that was rather unpleasant, seeing that Luka hadn't talked to Io for days.

"He said you had nice eyes." Of course he did. He was the only one—and the only prey—who could meet them. "And that you had an unfair advantage in height," Pipa laughed upon recalling silly memories. "He said he wanted to be as tall as you one day, so that you wouldn't have a bad neck talking to him."

That sounded so much like Io—Luka was genuinely pleased for a moment. Always thinking of the little things. The eagle however, couldn't seem to picture an Io that was anywhere near 6 feet, really. He was alright the way he was.

Nevertheless, the untainted sincerity of his words weighed against the person who spoke on his behalf. If they were talking about Io, surely, Luka could bear speaking with Pipa.

"But then he said that it wasn't fair to me since I would have to crane my neck talking to him, and eventually thought against it," the canary continued without a clue, oblivious to the effect of this statement that reversed the very compliment that was made in the first place. She laughed quietly.

"But he's fine the way he is, right?" Pipa half-met the eagle's gaze with a smile, then turned away. "He's always thinking about us."

"I'm just...really glad to have someone like him around."

Those were his very words stolen from his tongue and Luka was not pleased in the least. In the end, he figured that he didn't like speaking to her at all. That was it then—he was jealous.

Immediately, he wished to relive the times he spent with Io in the treehouse. The tips of his fingers felt a chilly breeze at this desire, cooling the head and the heart that was heated.

If Io didn't come soon, Luka would have to—

The door opened.

"Pi...Luka?" A fairly stunned Iolani stood by the doorway, blinking at the sight before his eyes. His gaze darted between his two friends in a seemingly confused manner. "What are you..."

He crossed his arms. "No one told me about this."

Pipa shook her head vigorously, arms flailing. "No no! It's not what it is," she explained, turning away from her lunch tray. "Luka came looking for you, actually! And, um, I told him I was waiting for you, as well, so."

"Oh," was all Io had to say. He was rather pleased with how things turned out—he didn't need to introduce them, or get them to warm to each other, they seemed to get along already!

How convenient, Lyra commented lightly, and Io had to agree. "So...shall we head down for lunch? There's only thirty minutes left before they clean up," the boy said hurriedly, helping Pipa out of her covers and giving the raw baby carrots a brief look of disgust. "Luka—the wheelchair. Could you?"

The eagle went to fetch it, and soon enough Pipa was propped onto the leather-backed seat and wheeled out of the infirmary, leaving the soggy mashed potatoes and distasteful carrots behind.

It didn't cross their minds to inform the nurse-in-charge; but perhaps it was simply because they were all looking forward to having lunch.

Together.

_________________________

The mere sight of Pipa's wheelchair (or her in it, for the matter) caused quite a stir in the dining hall. It was a difficult task to identify the root of such a commotion; whether it be the wheelchair, the predator alongside prey, or Io himself—the predator-prey—they all had some role to play in the private conversations of the majority. Tongues swept and eyes fixed but did not die.

Victoria, restless, circled above—piqued by those below. She surveyed the area for any sign of conflict, searching specifically for the presence of a certain vulture she deemed an outright affront to her reign. He wasn't here.

"I smell curry," Io said to Pipa, who was trying hard to ignore the looks they were receiving. "Potato curry."

"Let's find a seat," she suggested quickly, searching for a vacant table where they could eat with little attention. "Um."

The problem at hand was the fact that the hall was split into two—an unspoken rule that the Winged tended to follow and this gave the three little options; in fact, none at all. They were given a choice: to conform, or to go without food, and the latter was simply absurd.

Luka turned to Io, as if waiting for an answer which he would, of course, accept regardless of its consequence.

"There's a table over there," Io pointed in a general direction of the far back, where there was, apparently, only one chair. "I can get an extra chair from another table." It was located on the left side of the hall, which meant that they would be surrounded by prey. It was however, for all intents and purposes, the lesser evil.

Luka didn't seem to mind, taking over Io's place and directing the wheelchair towards the far back while the latter drifted to the nearest table with an empty seat.

"Hi," he began, a little urgent because the clock was ticking and every second spent with Luka and Pipa was important. "Is anyone sitting here?"

They stared.

He repeated the question after a moment's pause, the onset of something dark and quiet creeping into his cage. "I sort of, um, actually, really, need an extra chair."

Just then, someone appeared by his shoulder and gave the sparrow quite a scare.

"Io!"

He jumped, turning. "Oh, hi! I...you're Rhea, right?"

"You remember!" The hummingbird fluttered to his side, placing her tray on the part of the table he thought vacant. "What's up? Oh—do you want to sit with us?" Her bubbling excitement clearly displayed, the boy couldn't help but feel an underlying guilt that pervaded his next sentence.

"I was...actually, I thought this seat was vacant, and was hoping to get an extra chair. There's not enough at our table, so—but I'll sit with you some other time! Definitely." Rhea's mouth shaped into an 'o', nodding as he spoke. Her enthusiasm however, did not seem to die down one bit.

"Any time!" She laughed, "I'll help you ask around for a chair." He thanked her, and they split up.

Of course, this had come with a fair level of difficultly despite the doubling of efforts for the number of prey—as compared to that of the predators—were highly disproportionate. There was hardly any vacancy among the tables of prey and it wasn't an uncommon sight to see six of the sitting shoulder to shoulder on a bench that was meant for three. There was simply lots of scanning, spotting an unused chair, only to be disappointed; but their unwavering spirit prevailed, by some turn of fortune's wheel, and a chair was secured.

"You saved me there," Io wasn't afraid to lay out, and Rhea laughed cheerily.

"No worries. Sorry about my friends—they were just...a little stunned that you came to approach them. Now that you're...a predator, and stuff," she scratched the side of her head sheepishly. "They're just shy, really."

He knew that wasn't the point. Nevertheless, the attempt to comfort him was greatly appreciated. "I understand. It's okay, really. Let's sit together sometime."

She lit up gladly, nodding to contain her delight.

The sparrow was about to leave with the chair when she stopped him for a moment, eyes unable to meet his all of a sudden.

"Um. If you think I'm scared of you, or anything of that sort, I'm not. Really," then she turned and darted off.

With this in mind, Io tottered towards the table at the far back where Luka was standing and Pipa glancing anxiously around. There was a conflict of wave-like thoughts at present. He couldn't worry about Pipa and Luka getting along while deciphering the several meanings that Rhea's words could have meant—and the larger picture that was waiting before his eyes that he had yet to see.

"Finally. Should we take turns to get food?" He proposed to the pair and Pipa jumped immediately onto it.

"Sure! I'll wait here. You two should get going quickly before your favourite potatoes run out. I think I saw someone pile a whole bunch onto his tray," the canary propelled Io and Luka into the general direction of the buffet table.

Io did not buy her encouragement. "But you'll have trouble going by yourself later. Hmm, but it's best not to move around too much, you've just been discharged." He looked to Luka, who didn't seem to give any ideas. Several predators were staring at him.

"How about this—you can tell us what you want and we'll get it for you."

"Mm, sounds good!" Pipa craned her neck to try and get a glimpse of what was available for lunch. "The grilled mushrooms smell good. O-oh and I would like some fruit punch," she requested shyly.

"There's some blueberry cheesecake too. I saw someone with a slice. You like cheese right?"

The golden eagle felt, by now, a dull resentment of the current situation, partly muted by Io's presence, but fuelled by the never-ending chemistry between the sparrow and the canary. They seemed to know far too much about each other that he would never dream of achieving, and the care and concern they showed towards the other was simply a side-effect that stemmed from such a dream. His mood was losing its colour by the second.

"Luka, are you alright?" His friend peered up curiously as they made their way towards the food table. The former responded with a blank stare.

Io looked away.

"No, it's...never mind—it's probably just me," they collected the trays together and placed them on a tea trolley with three tiers. "I don't know, I may be a little over-excited about our first lunch together. Jing told me a few days ago that I could start sitting on the predator's side of the hall, and I was really happy because that meant that I could sit with you."

They were quiet for a while, piling jasmine rice onto a plate with grilled mushrooms on the side.

"So, yeah." Io continued. He couldn't seem to stop once he had begun. "But I understand, you know? It's a small thing. Practically nothing, actually. Which is what you probably think as well. So...sorry. I guess. I mean it's obvious that you would want to have lunch with other people so it's really just selfish of me. You don't seem too happy about it either—"

"I don't think that it is nothing."

Io paused, forgetting that the jug had been tipped into the glass for quite some time and was just a second from overflowing.

"Wha! Close," he hurried to place the jug back into its stand and Luka passed him a napkin, seemingly natural in their interactions. Io wiped his hands and didn't meet the latter's gaze.

For all intents and purposes, Luka wasn't at all green-eyed upon Io being distracted by blueberry cheesecakes; within the eagle's cage, it was weighed against the heartfelt words of his friend moments ago, and after that nothing seemed to matter anymore.

Having collected their lunch in brief silence, the pair made their way back to the table with Io taking the initiative of pushing the tea trolley. In their silence, however, Luka noticed that the sparrows' ears were tinted—mildly—with a dash of red.

He registered for a bare instance that Io had a nice neck as well.

*

This was getting quite out of hand.

The more Pipa picked at her cheesecake, the more unappetising it seemed; and it was this jarring distinction between her ordinary self and the dull, listless persona that prompted Io to ask what was wrong.

"I...don't know," she couldn't taste her cheesecake. Instead, she tasted many other things and her nose was awfully sensitive all of a sudden—the smell of grilled mushrooms masked, out of nowhere, by a hundred or more different scents. One of it was Io's, and the other was Luka's.

She could, at best, identify this. The rest was a blur and it was hard to focus on one thing entirely. Little did she know the irony in such a thought, for there was—really—only one thing on her mind and nothing else would take precedence.

"Maybe it's the medicine from this morning. Oh no, maybe it wasn't the time for you to be discharged after all...do you think you need to stay a little longer?" Io pushed the glass of fruit punch closer, but Pipa smiled weakly and did not take it.

"No, that's not it. I'm just feeling a little queasy right now," she nodded, staring at a spot on the ground. She was disappointed and guilty about how their lunch turned out. Io had put in so much effort and yet she wasn't able to contribute as much.

Students leaving the hall were making a pass at the table of three, staring openly in confusion or distaste. It was hard to tell them apart.

"Do you need to lie down? I can send you to the dorms before going for class," Io offered anxiously, harbouring a growing disapproval of the rude and obtrusive behaviour of other Winged. Luka as well, who felt one person invading their privacy to be enough, was quick to return prying gazes with a blank glare.

She was about to refuse, but then realized that she would be causing Io and Luka more trouble if she were to do so. A wheelchair was embarrassing and unwieldy. She would prefer to stay inside. Stairs were difficult—and there were no lifts in the school. How then, should she get around? She had come to the hall with ease simply because it was on the same level as the infirmary—but now what? Would one of them have to carry her?

Pipa was overthinking; and she noticed as well but that served no difference. What she thought was true and the truth was objective. It could not be altered.

These thoughts scared her. The imminent future that was dark weighed upon her small shoulders and she realized that what lay ahead in her path was nothing but a cold, dim abyss. So many difficulties. A sea of troubles in which she had no courage or will to take arms against; and even if she had, there were no arms.

Or legs, for the matter.

"I think that would be good," she said slowly, her tongue heavy and afraid. The canary couldn't tell whether she had made the right decision.

Lyra and Sylvey came down from the gallery above to join them and the three were one of the last few to leave the hall. A familiar silhouette was approaching from afar, seeming to make their way towards the dining hall in which they intended to leave.

Luka made her out the second he saw the phoenix. Her presence was, of course, demanding to a diurnal in every manner. Io waved eagerly. "Jing!"

She nodded in acknowledgement. "Good afternoon," the Chinese girl glanced between the three. "Where are you going? Your class starts in five minutes." She had directed this to Io, but was well aware that both the eagle and him were in the same homeroom.

"It's alright, we're just going to send Pipa to the dorms. We can make it in time—it won't take very long."

Jing shook her head. "The dormitory is ten minutes away. Rushing might cause your friend to be unwell. She has just been discharged."

"And it is best to be on time for your first homeroom, Io," she continued promptly. Her points were firm and convincing—legitimate in all manners but at the same time no less impassive. As concrete as they sounded, they seemed to lack a will. "Faustes does not like it when his students are late."

So the deputy headmaster was his homeroom teacher.

Io found himself slightly uneasy upon hearing that statement.

He weighed the consequences.

Still, Pipa was more important. "It really wouldn't take a—"

"I don't want you to be late either, Io." The canary prodded his elbow in a teasing manner. "You and Luka should get going. I'll be fine!" She wouldn't. Pipa was well aware that she wouldn't but for some reason she couldn't get herself to say so.

Io was stubborn; and all three Winged by his side knew this very well. He was thinking, but time was ticking.

"If it eases you, I can bring your friend to her dormitory. It's not too inconvenient. I was going to pass it," Jing offered as she turned to Luka and Io. The gaze that met the eagle's was one of an unspoken order. She wasn't fond of the Link between predators, but it wasn't as if she particularly hated it either.

Just, hard to feel.

But this made her do her job so well. She was perfect for it.

Faustes is not going to introduce him—you know that. He doesn't do formalities; he wants to get the administrative things done as soon as possible. No one is going to give Io time to adjust, so you better make sure he doesn't stand out. You know how your class is like.

She had meant to say 'our', but the possessive term was foreign to the girl. Nothing seemed to belong and that added to the distance between her and everything else.

Luka was about to reply, stiffly through his link, that Io stood out in a natural manner, but Jing was quick to cut the connection.

"You best go now," she nodded at Io and took over his role, beginning to push the girl's wheelchair in the direction of the dorms. The sparrow thought he saw a bright orange flame pass the windows; but it was scorching outside and could have simply been...a trick of the eye.

*

"People."

They carried on with their private conversations, oblivious to the professor who was standing in front of the class with an expression that was about to snap.

"Elite people." A hush settled and the class turned to Faustes, who was partly amused by their well-defined arrogance but mostly on edge due to the terribly boring staff meeting that was an absolute waste of his time. He was about to continue when an all-too-eager falcon decided to butt in.

"Sir, is it true that someone—I mean a prey—is crashing our class today?" Dmitri piped, awfully blunt with little tact. The black vulture who sat at the back of the class tensed involuntarily.

"Don't talk, Ford. Not when I'm talking," Faustes snapped. "No one's crashing."

"Okaay, so they're joining," Dmitri smirked. "Amirite?"

Faustes would have had his Avian in his face had there not been a rule for Avians to keep out of classrooms. "Leave it Ford. You're embarrassing yourself."

"Honestly sir, there's an extra table behind so we were going to notice something either way why don't you just tell us," a girl with auburn curls spoke quickly, turning to Lucienne. "And Luci heard you speaking with Jane. And Jane's not here, why isn't she? Maybe she went to fetch the prey. And they're late. So is Luka—but he's always late so." The girl ended with a shrug.

The twelve that were present were silent in wait, eyes fixed to the front door of the class as though watching; anticipating the arrival of a long-awaited prey only to dive for the

Kill.

Vaughn was beginning to foresee the darkness ahead and how this would come to haunt his mind perhaps for the rest of his life—never to cease, never to die but all he could do was wait. Wait for it to open and to feed on the joy that was momentary; the emotion that was fleeting. Iolani Tori was the disruption in his life that was already in such disorder.

He was afraid. He—the vulture that everyone was so afraid of and so frightened to speak to, so distanced from he—was afraid

Of a sparrow.

There was a knock on the door.

________________________

A/N: You might have noticed by now that the title of this chapter is extremely ambiguous. It does not establish, clearly, just who is the 'third' of the two, and which 'two' it is referring to in the first place. Is Pipa the third party? Or does it seem like it is Luka? 

Or could it very well be that Io is the third party? 

Perhaps its simply a matter of perception; that sometimes, no matter where they are, people tend to feel left out. 

A little lonely. 

Sorry if I'm confusing some of you with the insinuations that Luka finds both Pipa and Io sexually attractive. I mean, he is in heat after all /.\ and well, apparently someone else is too. But of course everything is up to your own interpretation: it could have very well been that the 'necks' do not mean anything at all and are not a sexual representation of anything HAHAHAHAHA whee 

See you in the next chapter!!

-Cuppiecake.