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... .
It began to struggle, flapping weakly, but Kaya’s grip didn’t budge. She had wrestled with worse today, and a trembling puff of feathers wasn’t about to win.
She glanced around. A tiny vine dangled lazily from a stunted tree nearby — too flimsy.
Then her eyes caught something else: the sparrow’s tiny, sharp talons. "Tch," she muttered. "Those little claws are definitely flight-risk material."
Her gaze shifted to a patch of grass. She yanked a long, sturdy blade ...
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