Ethan strolled toward the captured bird, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.
He grabbed it by the scruff of its neck—if birds had scruffs—and let his power surge through his palm, flooding into the creature like a rising tide.
The bird convulsed violently, its iridescent feathers flaring and twitching in pain.
"You mentioned Sol'Rakka earlier," Ethan said, voice calm but carrying the weight of command. "Is that a place? Or the name of a ruler?"
He tilted his head slightly.
"And where did you come from?"
The bird was trembling now, terror etched into every twitch of its tiny frame. But some truths—it simply couldn't speak.
So it froze, silent and rigid, as if bracing for a sentence it already knew was coming.
"Not talking?" Ethan's brow furrowed.
He'd expected this thing to fold quickly. Instead, it had a spine.
Fine.
Power gathered in his hand again, sharper this time—like a blade being drawn.
He was ready to end it.
Whummm!
