Veridis Quo

Chapter 42 - Miscommunication Is the Key to Damnation

To have Yahya as an ally...

Now that was a show I'd watch.

If someone had told me I'd somewhat, crudely, make up with the black mare who was the freaking Beastar after all the bullshit we pulled on one another? I'd tell them to cease consumption of forbidden plants and to come clean in the nearest chapel. And if that same someone added that I'd be offered the position of future Beastar, I'd kick him into the hole while yelling "THIS. IS. AMERICA!" The screams to the bottom forever savored by the masses.

Yet, it did happen.

Not the hole thing.

We were no longer enemies!

A great success! A cause for celebration and a cold six-pack of sake. My poison of choice was beer, but when in Rome, you wash your teeth with piss and fancy...

The lawyer inside my head advised me to not finish that joke.

Anyhow, I was infinitely relieved I didn't have to constantly worry about what she'd do next or when she'd strike. That was one weight less among the many others, a sure sign things were looking bright for me!

Heh, me and Yahya, friends...

That was a weird prospect.

Not just because of the implied intimacy between two people, but the age gap of our respective groups. I fit with the younger crowd, the teens and teenettes that smoked and drank and partied and all the other nuances of the most hormonal period of our lives.

Yahya, on the other hand, was not young. To ask a woman her age was impolite – I didn't even know how old Miya was, and I'll put a pin on her for later – so I simply speculated.

To describe it in my unique way, she had the right to like those stupid gifs of yellow midgets who were often cyclops though not always, them silly little goggles.

A mature lady, in short.

So, what was it that brought us together, excluding my humanity and her mission?

My precious birbie...

How small the world was.

Assuming they had gone through similar misadventures as the human race had throughout the ages, every corner of the whole wide world was explored. No place was left unmarked, the farthest isles charted and highest peaks conquered.

I'd mentioned the fact I was oblivious to Miya's age. One thing I did know about her, among many things, were her origins.

Being a harpy eagle, and on the bigger end of her species' spectrum, she immigrated to Yamoto in pursuit of greater academic opportunities, a classic tale.

And let me tell you, she did not make the wrong choice.

Nothing against South America and my viewers down there, just...

Besides the rich culture, rampant crime and industrial exploitation, someone of her brilliance didn't have anything waiting for her at home.

Perhaps I was misinformed, that was how I re-remembered the continent's current state.

Unfortunate. The people always suffer the most.

Miya...

Our connection ran deeper than the roots of an ancient redwood.

She was like...

Like a...

A...

...