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... pping under pressure echoed in the quiet.
The sparrow slowly turned his head toward Kaya, only for his tiny face to drain of color. She wasn’t using a rock, or even a tool—she was breaking the shells barehanded. His throat bobbed nervously as he tried to speak, but the words froze when Kaya lifted her eyes, fixing him with a cold glare.
Crack. Another walnut split in her palm.
The sparrow flinched, wings twitching, and inched to the side, hoping to slip o ...
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