Yves sat motionless at the cave entrance, his golden eyes fixed intently on Rami as she worked on her makeshift clothing. Though his expression remained neutral, his mind was a tempest of swirling thoughts and long-buried suspicions.
Rami's sudden appearance in the forbidden lands, a place known to corrupt even the hardiest of witches, raised more questions than answers. The rumors of years past echoed in his memory—the attack on his tribe, the chaos that followed. He remembered the weak Albus beastmen who claimed their village was attacked by a tribe of beastmen. At the time, it had been just another battle in an endless string of conflicts. But now, with Rami's arrival, those old wounds felt fresh once more.
His mother's fate haunted him still. Injured during the war, she had bled out before his eyes, and when he had turned to the village witches for help, they had refused. They claimed his mother had been consumed by evil, that her blood was already tainted. Enraged, Yves had nearly killed them then and there. But before he could act, another had intervened—a beast, supposedly from the enemy's ranks. In a twist of irony, this stranger had slit the witches' throats, their betrayal laid bare. A spy, working for a high witch who had once belonged to their own clan of white snake beastmen before defecting to a rival group— the high witch of a major clan.
Yves had tried to reason with the spy, but in the end, he had been forced to kill him. The spy's final words had revealed a sinister plot—the high witch would attack their village unless the remaining witches were eliminated. Yves had reported the incident, claiming the spy had attacked the witches himself, but deep down, he knew the truth. The high witch, not from their tribe of white snakes or snakes at all, had manipulated events from the shadows.
Now, as he studied Rami, his suspicions grew. She was an Albus, yet carried none of the telltale scent of witchcraft. No totem marked her as one of the high witches' followers. How could this be? Was she truly an innocent stranger, or was she playing a part in some larger game?
Yves rose to his feet, his massive frame casting a shadow across the cave. He approached Rami slowly, his wings twitching slightly with restrained tension. "Where did you come from?" he asked, his voice low and slurred, each word precise yet slightly garbled.
His golden-blue eyes bore into hers, searching for any sign of deception. "The lands you crossed... they are not meant for those who are pure of magic. Yet you carry no witch's mark." He paused, his gaze sweeping over her body, noting the absence of any magical totems or symbols.
Yves's fingers flexed, itching to reach for the bone knife he had left near the nest. But he held himself back, for now. Instead, he crossed his arms over his broad chest, the muscles beneath his dark skin rippling with the movement. "Speak carefully, little ¹Albus. Your presence here... it stirs old memories. And I am not a patient man when it comes to those who would deceive me."
The air in the cave seemed to thicken, heavy with tension. Yves's eyes never left Rami's face, waiting for her answer, his mind already formulating a plan for every possible outcome.