Two days had crawled by since Moran's treatment of Vestiya. He was wondering how it was progressing.

By now, her recovery should have been in full swing, but with no updates, but the uncertainty gnawed at him.

Because no one knew the full extent of his arrangement with the village chief, everyone thought the deal was he healed her and, in exchange, they wouldn't gut him like a fish.

He sighed heavily. Sitting around sucked!

On the first day, he’d tried doing push-ups just to kill time, but he stopped after noticing the guards exchanging glances—pitying, almost amused looks that one would give a child stumbling its way up into doing its first steps.

He went back to scouring his memory instead, picking through fragments of knowledge in hopes of gathering an arsenal of information that he could rely on in the future.

Finally, on the third day, a tall, black-haired man with skin that held a faint yellow hue approached his cell.

With an easy, confident smile, the man gestured to the two white-skinned Shapeless guards.

They nodded gratefully, hurrying off as if relieved to be dismissed, leaving Moran to wonder just who this newcomer might be.

The man who was now standing in front of Moran had an athletic build and wore a lot of gold.

His hair was styled back from his forehead, hanging down on the back of his shoulder, with a few loose strands that defied the hold of the golden rings that were holding his otherwise perfect ponytail together.

His attire fit him well, with intricately patterned, earthy-colored fabrics draped across his upper body, covering his chest but leaving his arms bare.

He wore various other ornaments around his neck and wrists, crafted from bone, gold, and leather, each piece seeming to hold some kind of meaning, besides making the wearer look good.

At least that was what Moran hoped.

The cloth around his waist hung down in asymmetrical layers, fastened securely with woven cords, and decorated with more ornaments, beads, and charms, hanging in a tight network around him.

He regarded Moran as apparently everything around him, with a slight smirk on his lips.

"What?" Moran asked, sitting on the ground. He had to sink his head between his shoulders to meet the man’s eyes but didn’t bother standing—his knees would ache if he tried, so he only stood up if he absolutely needed to.

All the time spent with his butt on the ground and his legs crossed was taking its toll.

"How have you been?" The other man asked with a sudden itch of his eyebrows. He cast a quick, exaggerated glance around the hut.

"Ah, they gave you Litches old dump, huh? Poor choice."

Moran, surprised by the casual tone, raised an eyebrow.

"And you are?" he asked, a slight edge of annoyance creeping into his voice.

The man raised his eyebrows, looking genuinely baffled.

"Seriously? You don’t recognize me?"

Crouching down, nearly meeting Moran at eye level, he gestured with his hands towards himself.

He crouched down, nearly meeting Moran at eye level.

"Why should I?" Moran replied, frowning as he took a closer look at the man’s face.

Something about him seemed oddly familiar. "...Kai?" he asked as his brain finally spit out the answer.

Kai snorted.

"Took you long enough," he said, straightening up and extending a hand to Moran.

Moran needed a moment to recover from the shock of seeing someone he had last seen just a(n agonzinginly boring and long) week ago change so drastically in such a short time. Then he took the hand offered to him, and Kai pulled him up.

As expected, a sharp sting shot up his knees, reminding him of the price of all that inactivity.

He drew a sharp breathe that made the other man chuckle.

"Pins and needles?" Kai asked.

Moran nodded. "Yeah."

Now that he was standing, Moran spotted a few more signs that this really was the boy he had carried to the village just a few days ago

Sure, his shoulders had broardened, but he was still wearing his now bulky build, like he was small and agile. His eyes had changed colors, but they still glinted with the same mischief and readyness to blackmail innocent people into risking their lives just because he could...

Despite all of it, Moran was genuently happy to see him.

Despite everything, Moran was genuinely happy to see him. He nudged Kai’s chest with his fist.

“Glad you made it,” he said, trying not to sound sentimental.

Sure, he had only known the boy… the man for little more than a week, but meeting him was one of the first things he could remember.

Kai might just be the most familiar person he had.

Some guards had certainly spent more hours standing watch outside his hut than he and Kai had spent together, but he hadn’t exchanged nearly as many words with them—let alone engaged in combat with an unnecessarily dangerous beast.

Spreaking of which, apparently Kai had put the creatures heart that Moran had dragged toghether with the former boy throught the forrest to good use.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Kai planted his hands on his hips. “Yeah, I did,” he said, practically gleaming with pride. It was as if a weight had been lifted from the bo—man's shoulder.

"Thanks to you." He slammed a firm hand on Moran’s back, nearly knocking the air from his lungs.

Moran wheezed, stumbling a step forward.

“Sorry!” Kai said, genuinely surprised. “I—I’m still getting used to that.”

“It’s—huuuuggggghhhhh—alright,” Moran managed between an exasperated breath, before straighening his back again.

He turned his chest towards Kais as not to give him another opportunity for such a wholsome assault.

"So that's it?" Moran asked, pointing at the man in front of him. "This Heartshape that you wanted?"

Kai nodded eagerly. "Yup. Looks awesome, right? I can even see in the dark," he said proudly, almost giddy.

"Oh, and this—" He raised his hand, and suddenly huge claws sprouted from his fingers.

Kai drew a sharp breath, flexing them carefully. "Pretty wild, huh?"

Moran gave a sharp laugh. "Y-yeah. Doesn`t that hurt?"

Kai nodded. "A little. Oh and I’m pretty sure I can morph my hair into that black ooze, but… haven’t quite figured that one out yet."

His claws retreated into his fingers, leaving behind quickly closing red slits on the yellow-hued skin.

Moran scrached the back of his neck. He had completely forgotten the stored-up anger of the last weak or the uncertainty of his fate.

"So how exactly does that work? I saw a few of those animal-looking people and some a little less. Are all of them .... have all of them a Heart?"

Kai nodded.

"Yeah, everyone that doesn't look like me when we first met. Once our bodies accept a Heart, we assume something that is called Noshape or Base."

He gestured at himself.

"It’s when we look like a human version of our beasts. In this form we have a few abilities, like in my case night vision or in Lira—my sisters case immortality. Passive stuff."

Basically on the same powerlevel, Moran thought, but he didn't bring it up.

Instead, he asked, "You have a sister?"

Kai nodded. "Yeah. Her name is Lira. She has reddish-orange hair and almost red skin. And she looks like someone who likes to beat up people that annoy her. Mostly because she does."

"Ah, I might've seen her." Moran said. Realising he had nothing to add, because all she had done when he was around was stare at him in annoyance and then run out of the room, he led the conversation back to the former topic.

"So why do some of you look like… well, like weird humans, while others look more like actual animals? I saw someone who looked half-monkey, and another guy with a chameleon’s skin."

"Hmm, well, thats because of the Heartshape. When we are comfortable enough with the Heart, through time or practice, we unlock Halfshape," Kai continued.

"That’s when we take on some of the beast’s traits and can access most of our power. Some people get stuck there, though, like Nyxy. Also, some like to walk around in that form constantly because it makes them feel saver, or they just like to show off."

He shrugged, as if it were a trivial matter.

Moran frowned. "But how can they get stuck? What you described sounds like you are training a muscle or a skill."

Kai smirked. "Sort of. My sister says it’s like 'unclenching your ass after shitting."

He spoke the latter part with a squeezed voice, no doubt trying his best to imitate what his sister sounded like. "Most people figure it out naturally, some don’t."

Moran bit his lips as he tried to imagine how it would be to be stuck in a gecos skin forever. "That sounds horrible."

Kai shrugged, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.

"It’s not as bad as it sounds. Halfshape is still… mostly human. Just with, you know, extra bits. Fur, feathers,...." He gestured vaguely with his hands.

"Aurora, for example, got those antlers and those weird, clawed hands. Like I said, some people even like Halfshape better. We are all used to living with them.

However, getting lost in Fullshape? That’s a different story."

Moran tilted his head, intrigued. The name "Fullshape" implied a lot, but after over a week without real conversation—at least conversation that his live didn't depend on— he was eager to keep this one going.

"Fullshape?" he prompted.

Kai nodded, his expression serious now.

"That’s when we completely transform into our beast. Not just a human with animal traits—it’s a full shift into the creature itself. The problem is that if you let the heart become such an intimate part of you, its emotions and instincts seep into you. Most hearts are manageable—just some extra urges, maybe a craving for digging holes or hunting mice. But with certain beasts... ones that are all about dominating or destroying..."

He hesitated, his face tense. "If those instincts are too powerful, they can completely take over."

Moran whistled through his teeth. "Wow, that sounds… kind of risky."

Kai shrugged, about to respond, when a voice called out behind him, pulling his name apart like it was molten cheese.

"Kaaahhaaaaiiii!"

He turned, shifting so that Moran was at his left shoulder, giving Moran a clear view of the woman approaching from Kai’s right. The two locked eyes.

The woman had a confidence about her, almost bordering on swagger, with short-cropped red hair and an expression that looked both mildly annoyed and mildly amused.

Her clothes were loose and practical, though she wore them with a kind of casual flair.

It was the same woman that had stood near the chief when he had first arrived at the village.

Her eyes were a bright, almost glowing yellow, something Moran hadn't noticed the first time he saw her. She looked him up and down

"Kai, mom told you to bring him to her and not chat with him about the weather."

Kai rolled his eyes but gestured between them. "Moran, this is my sister, Lira. Lira, meet Moran."

Lira gave Moran a quick up-and-down look, eyes sharp. "The foreigner, huh?" She crossed her arms, a slight smirk tugging at her lips.

"Guess I owe you for digging my brother out of his grave."

She held out her hand. "Thanks."

Moran took her hand, surprised at the warmth that radiated from her palm—almost too warm, like she was standing in a sun that did not exist in this world.

Before he could comment, she jerked her hand back.

"Your hand’s disgusting," she said, scrunching her nose in what Moran hoped to be, playful disgust, and rubbed her palm against her pants.

Moran shrugged, offering a sheepish smile. "Maybe because I haven't washed in forever. You guys kept me locked up for over a week."

Lira grimaced.

"And you touched me anyway?"

She shook her head, muttering something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like, "Men."

After a moment, she recovered from the sensation of Moran's greasy palm turned around and waved them to follow her.

"Alright, come on, you two. Mom’s waiting."

Kai fell in step beside her, and Moran followed. He was actually curious how far his patient's condition had improved. Considering the friendlyness of Kai and Lira he assumed it was quite enought.

The village was a whole different sight from his last venture two days ago, where Aurora had practically kicked him back into his "home.". Despite her, what he assumed to be a support-oriented Heartshape, she was very strong, at least according to his standards.

Before, the village had been eerily quiet, with most of the inhabitants either sleeping, still dancing, or being hangover.

Now, however, the village was spewing with eager life, a community in motion.

People bustled along the pathways, some bartering over goods while others trained in small cloth-marked clearings.

A few young men lugged heavy sacks past them, grumbling and joking with each other, while further down the path, a couple of women were setting up food stalls, the scents of baked bread and simmering stew wafting through the air.

Children darted between huts, laughing and calling out to one another as they played.

Everywhere he looked, villagers were gathered in small groups—talking, working, or sharing a hearty laugh.

The while vibe reminded him more of a big, close family than what he would think of as a tribe.

As they continued down the path, Moran felt several pairs of eyes on him. Some curious, others wary.

Children whispered and pointed fingers, and even a few adults gave him lingering glances before going back to their work.

"Not too shabby, huh?" Kai’s voice broke his focus, bringing Moran’s attention back to the path.

"No, not at all," Moran replied, nodding.

He pointed toward one of the treehouses perched high above, nestled among thick branches like a bird in it's nest.

Its design was fitting its surroundings perfectly, as if it had grown there naturally.

"How did you guys manage to get a house up there?"

Kai chuckled and shrugged. "You just need a little bit of sweat, blood, and tears... then it's easy enough."

Moran raised an eyebrow. “Right. Sounds… easy.”

Clearly, their idea of "easy" had an entirely different benchmark.

He glanced back up, admiring the intricate detail of the treehouse’s beams and supports, wondering just how much effort went into “easy.”

“You two quit slacking.” Lira barely glanced over her shoulder, but her voice whipped the two slowing-down men back to attention.

Kai rolled his eyes but picked up the pace.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied sarcastically as they caught up.

After a few more minutes, they rounded a bend, and the path opened up to a larger clearing at the village’s center.

There, surrounded by carved stones and woven decorations, stood the chief’s half-tent.

With a casual flick of her wrists, Lira swept aside the carpet it had instead of a door and slid inside.