That girl slowly stood up from the grass, brushing dirt off her clothes. She was taller than Iyak by just a little—but her presence? Twice as loud. With a sharp glare and a voice that could crack a tree, she barked,

  “Who hit me on the head with a stick?! A mere stick, really?”

  Iyak, standing a few feet away, casually slid the stick behind his leg with all the innocence of a kid who just broke a window.

  “How should I know? It’s a forest, people get hit by... random... sticks all the time.”

  She stormed over and grabbed his collar.

  “There’s no one else here, genius! You think sticks fall from the sky?”

  Not one to back down, Iyak grabbed her collar right back.

  “Listen, Grandma Thunder-Thighs, if I hit you, you'd be unconscious. You showed up like a demon on stealth mode. I thought you were a monster, not some dramatic street performer.”

  Her face turned red, her teeth clenched.

  “How dare you! I am the DIVINE HERO of this world! Slayer of demons, destroyer of darkness, the chosen one blessed with the holy sword!”

  Iyak scoffed and rolled his eyes so hard it looked like he might pass out.

  “If you’re a hero, then I’m God—and my first divine command is: get a mirror and look at that mess of a face.”

  The girl’s grip on his shirt tightened.

  “Blasphemy! You’ll be cursed by the heavens for mocking a divine hero!”

  Iyak crossed his arms.

  “Too late. I’m already cursed—with the joy of being stuck here with a delusional forest witch who thinks she’s some kind of legendary warrior.”

  She growled, her face twitching with fury.

  “You really are the dumbest, most disrespectful little—”

  But their bickering came to a screeching halt when a soft cough came from behind them. Both froze and turned. The serpent girl—Lamia—lay curled up weakly by the fire, her breathing ragged.

  The girl looked at Lamia, then glared at Iyak.

  “Now I get it. That’s why you’re acting like this. You’re a back-alley hunter, aren’t you? Selling rare races on the black market?”

  Iyak’s expression snapped into a fierce frown.

  “What?! Are you serious?! I found her like this, half-dead in the woods! Why would I save her if I planned to sell her? You think black market dealers build campfires and put their coats on injured people?”

  The girl folded her arms, unconvinced.

  “You could be faking it. What kind of guy walks around with a serpent girl in the middle of the night?”

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  Iyak pointed at her, voice rising.

  “What kind of so-called hero shows up covered in dirt, twigs in her hair, and looking like she lost a fight with a compost heap?”

  Realizing her disheveled state, the girl blinked and looked down at herself. Leaves clung to her cloak, mud streaked her boots, and something that looked suspiciously like squirrel poop was on her shoulder. She slowly let go of Iyak and began brushing herself off with exaggerated grace.

  Clearing her throat with forced dignity, she said,

  “Fine. I’ll let it go this time, because of that poor girl. But mark my words—if you disrespect me again, I’ll personally make you regret it.”

  She spun on her heel and walked over to Lamia. Iyak scoffed behind her back.

  “Yeah, yeah. And if you call me a criminal again, I’ll curse the gods for making me deal with this forest soap opera.”

  The girl knelt beside Lamia, her expression finally serious for a moment.

  “She’s in bad shape… but don’t worry. I’ll heal her with my divine magic.”

  Iyak raised a brow and stepped beside her.

  “Oh, now this I gotta see. You couldn’t heal your sense of fashion, but sure—go ahead, heal her.”

  The girl clenched her jaw, cheeks puffed like an angry squirrel.

  “One more insult, and I’ll blast your soul into pieces!”

  Iyak casually plopped down on the grass, smirking as he took a loud bite of a juicy fruit.

  “Do it. Then I might finally believe you’re not just a messed-up witch playing dress-up.”

  A vein popped on her forehead, but she swallowed her fury and turned back to the Lamia girl.

  She whispered a chant under her breath, and a warm golden light enveloped the unconscious girl. Her wounds began to close as sparkles danced along her skin.

  Iyak’s eyes lit up like a kid watching fireworks.

  “Whoa, sparkly magic! That’s new. Let me see!”

  He scooted closer, and the so-called hero instinctively stepped back half a step.

  The Lamia girl stirred. Her serpentine tail twitched. Then—her eyes fluttered open.

  Iyak grinned.

  “Oh thank the moons! You’re awake! You don’t know how hard it is to carry someone through a forest while dodging slugs, twigs, and accusations of being a creep!”

  He turned to glance at the hero.

  “Some people just love showing up late and judging others like they’re the Queen of Sarcasm!”

  **Before he could finish, the Lamia girl lunged forward—**and bit his shoulder.

  Iyak froze. Mouth open. Eyes wide.

  A long, awkward silence followed. Even the birds in the trees went quiet.

  Then, slowly… he raised his hand—

  And gently bonked her on the head with the palm of his hand.

  “Bad girl. I saved you, not served you for lunch.”

  The hero girl burst into laughter, nearly falling over.

  “Oh my gods! That was the best thank-you ever! You should frame your bite mark—it’s the symbol of true appreciation!”

  Iyak turned away, dramatically lifting his sleeve and blowing air on the fresh bite.

  “What kind of thanks is that? I save a life, and I get turned into a midnight snack. I’m surrounded by idiots and bitey creeps.”

  He glared at the hero.

  “And you! What’s so funny, huh? This hurts! Your comedy timing sucks, Hero of Giggles.”

  She wiped a tear from her eye and smirked.

  “You? Hurt? You’ve got more drama than a bard in heartbreak.”

  Iyak groaned.

  “This is my life now… One moment I’m enjoying fruit, next thing I know I’m babysitting a snake and a delusional magic mosquito.”