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... the vultures.
Kaya gritted her teeth, her hands flying to her ears. The high-pitched cries clawed into her head, screeching like banshees tearing through the skies. It wasn’t just noise—it was communication. And though she couldn’t understand their language, the tone was unmistakable.
It was rage.
It was threat.
It was a hunt cry.
She remembered this sound from her world—vultures circling a dying animal, screeching not to scare it away, but to declare it t ...
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