Ezra's consciousness stirred, his eyes fluttering open as he slowly emerged from the suffocating haze of exhaustion. The world around him felt distant and distorted, like he was submerged in water, muffled and heavy. His limbs refused to cooperate, his mind sluggish and unsteady.
The faint crackle of a dying fire reached his ears, accompanied by a sharp, stinging ache in his muscles. He blinked, trying to focus, his surroundings a blur of shadow and dim orange light. Then, without warning, a sharp poke to his ribs jolted him fully awake.
"Gah!" Ezra gasped, his eyes snapping open as he instinctively tried to shield himself. His chest heaved as he blinked rapidly, his vision finally clearing enough to see the figure standing over him.
Shirley.
The older man loomed above him, his tall frame shadowed by the flickering embers of the fire. His arms were crossed over his chest, his stance rigid and imposing. Shirley's narrowed eyes burned with a mixture of fury and something else Ezra couldn't quite place—concern, maybe?
"You've got some explaining to do, kid," Shirley growled, his voice low and rough, cutting through the silence like a blade.
Ezra blinked, his mind struggling to catch up. "Huh…?" he croaked, his throat dry and voice hoarse and his stomach heavy .
The single word escaped his lips before the memories came rushing back—too fast, too vivid. The monstrous bird-like creature, the fight, Shirley collapsing in a pool of blood, and the strange light he had summoned. His amazing midnight feast.
"I…" Ezra started, his voice cracking. He tried to sit up, but his body screamed in protest, every muscle aching as though he'd been trampled. He winced, the effort leaving him trembling and lightheaded.
Shirley didn't budge, his glare sharp and unwavering. "Since when could you heal? "
" Huh .. heal ?"The word stuck in Ezra's mind, foreign and unfamiliar. He filed it away for later, too drained to process it fully.
Shirley's scowl deepened, but his gaze briefly flickered down to his own torso—the deep, gaping wound that had once been there now reduced to faint scarring. The skin was tan and smooth, almost untouched, save for the faint residue of white light that seemed to cling to the edges outlining his hard muscle .
He blinked his eyes trying to adjust .
Ezra's mouth opened and closed as he struggled for words. Before he could respond, Shirley's sharp gaze flickered toward the remains of the bird-like creature. His expression twisted into something caught between amusement and mild horror.
"What the hell happened to the bird, and why is its head the only thing left?"
Ezra followed Shirley's gaze, his stomach lurching slightly as he took in the sight. The bird's head lay a few feet away, charred and mangled, its lifeless glowing eyes staring blankly into the distance. Bones, scattered feathers, and what remained of the once monstrous creature were strewn across the floor. The torso had been almost entirely stripped of flesh, the ribcage cracked open like a broken cage.
"Oh…" Ezra rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, his other hand resting on his stomach. "Yeah… I, uh, ate it."
Shirley stared at him, deadpan. "You ate it?"
Ezra nodded slowly, his face flushing slightly. "I mean… I was starving! And it wasn't that bad, honestly. Well, after the… glowing thing happened. I think I… cooked it? With the light? Or whatever that was."
Shirley pinched the bridge of his nose again, muttering something under his breath that Ezra couldn't quite catch.
"Let me get this straight," Shirley said finally, his voice level but edged with incredulity. "You healed me—somehow—with white fire, impaled a monster bird with a literal pole, cooked it with said fire, and then sat here and had yourself a midnight buffet while I was out cold?"
Ezra shrugged weakly. "Pretty much… yeah."
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Shirley stared at Ezra, his face caught somewhere between bewilderment and reluctant admiration.
For the first time Shirley was at loss for words .