Lyra, leaning against the wall at the hallway's entrance, felt the pain of her wounds like a steady pulse.
Awakened by the heated voices of Kai and Darius, she caught their argument echoing from the dining room, where faded photos of former fighters and dusty trophies proclaimed Darius's glorious past as an MMA trainer.
Darius, his face flushed, slammed his fist on the table, making a plate of stew tremble.
"She's nothing but trouble! We can barely afford food, Kai!" he roared, his voice booming through the house.
Kai, seated across from him, rolled his eyes with disdain before fixing them on Lyra, tracing the bandages covering her arms until they met her chocolate-brown eyes, as if unraveling every blink.
"What, already burned through all the royalties from your champions, old man?" he retorted, his tone calm but sharp, as if Darius's fury were a minor inconvenience.
Lyra's tail tensed, her Feral instincts on high alert. She recognized Kai as the human who had seen her in the alley after her fight with Robber, the Feral wolf.
'Was he the one who patched me up?' she wondered, uneasy, though not as much as she was about the spilled stew, its warm, spiced aroma filling the room.
Her stomach growled, reminding her of nights in the ghetto, rummaging through trash while humans looked at her with contempt. Her ears drooped, and her nose wrinkled, trying to hold onto the scent.
Darius, red with rage, grabbed Kai by the collar of his shirt.
"If you stopped training day and night in that damned room without fighting, we wouldn't be in this mess!" he growled, his knuckles white. "What's the point of your obsession if you don't compete?!"
Lyra tensed further, her muscles screaming from her wounds. The spilled stew enraged her more than the argument; she wanted to leap, not for Kai, but for the wasted food.
'No, no, I'm doing it for the human who saved me,' she told herself, searching for an excuse to justify the impulse her wounds wouldn't let her follow.
Darius noticed her, turning with a dry laugh.
"What, you gonna fight me, Feral?" he said, releasing Kai and raising his fists like in his days as a trainer.
Lyra, her fur bristling, crouched, ready to move, but the pain stopped her. Kai extended a hand toward her, his gaze calm but firm.
"Easy, I'm fine," he said, stepping between them.
Darius, surprised, lowered his fists.
"Is she protecting you?" he asked, but Kai seemed as puzzled as he was.
"I don't know," he replied, stepping back.
Lyra snapped her teeth, frustrated. She wanted to yell about the stew, but her wounds betrayed her.
She shook her head, trying to convince herself again: 'It's not about the food, it's about him.' But she knew the truth: hunger consumed her.
Kai, watching her, spoke softly.
"Relax. Everything's fine, see?" He pointed to his neck, unharmed. Lyra frowned, her gaze shifting from Kai to Darius to the puddle of stew, her anger fading under her weakness.
Darius looked at them both, sighing heavily.
"At least she seems to listen to you," he said, talking about Lyra as if she were a wild animal. "If you find her a job, she can stay. But if she causes trouble, I'll make sure the Feral cops take her away."
He dismissed Kai with a bitter gesture and stormed out, his footsteps echoing toward the front door.
Lyra watched him go, annoyed by his tone but relieved. The idea of staying in this house, with its trophies and fighter photos, made her feel out of place, but hunger was stronger.
Kai, without a word, cleaned the table and served a fresh plate of stew with newly baked bread, placing it in front of her.
"Eat," he said, sitting across the table, his smile calm but his gaze intense, as if studying every move Lyra made.
She grabbed the fork, her hands trembling from pain and hunger.
The first bite was an explosion of flavors: spiced meat, crispy bread, something she hadn't tasted in years.
She devoured the food, unable to hold back, but Kai's gaze made her uneasy.
"Have you eaten?" she asked timidly, her voice barely audible.
Kai shook his head.
"Strict diet. You eat," he replied, his eyes locked on her, as if solving a puzzle.
Lyra felt a shiver. Was it because she was Feral? Was Kai on guard, like the humans who looked at her with contempt on the streets?
She remembered nights scavenging for scraps, hunger gnawing at her pride. She lowered her gaze, eating more slowly, but the flavor betrayed her, making her devour every crumb.
She wanted to leave, return to the alley, but the warmth of the house and the full plate held her back. Before she could speak, Kai leaned forward.
"Don't worry about the old man," he said. "I'll convince him to let you stay."
Lyra blinked, surprised.
"Why are you doing this for me?" she murmured, her tail tense. Kai looked at her directly, his voice firm but enigmatic.
"Your reflexes in that alley are something I've been looking for for years. I want you to train with me."
Lyra frowned, processing his words. The word "train" echoed in the room, among the trophies and photos of fighters that seemed to watch her.
Before she could respond, she caught a glint in a nearby display case: a military medal, half-hidden among Darius's trophies, its golden colors highlighting a shield shaped like planet Earth, a symbol of human victory in the Feral-human war.
A knot formed in her chest. How many Feral lives had Darius taken to earn that medal? To live here, with someone who killed so many of her kind?
Though the war happened before her birth, the grief enveloped her, as if she were betraying Ferals for a plate of food.
She recalled childhood stories of humans hunting Ferals out of hatred, a legacy she still felt in every scornful glance.
Kai didn't seem to notice her hesitation, his eyes still fixed on her, waiting for an answer.
"Think about my offer," he said, standing up. "When your wounds heal, you can decide."