Survival instinct finally kicked in. I broke eye contact and stepped back.

"I'll just be going now." I said quickly.

But it was too late. Something had shifted in her posture, a coiling of muscles beneath those shimmering feathers. She took a step forward, matching my retreat.

Yep. Definitely time to go.

I pivoted and bolted down the hallway. Behind me, I heard a predator's excitation call, half-purr, half-growl, signaling the start of a chase.

I pushed myself harder, my shoes squeaking against the polished floor as I rounded another corner. The sound of her pursuit grew louder—not the frantic slapping of my shoes on tile, but the controlled, rhythmic padding of a predator who knew she had her prey cornered.

"Running only makes it more fun, human!" she called, her voice lilting with amusement.

I spotted the stairwell ahead and threw myself toward it, grabbing the railing and vaulting over it entirely rather than taking the steps. It was a risky move, but I'd done similar jumps during my short-lived parkour phase until I broke my neck falling off a particularly tall building and spent several months reconstituting my spinal cord back into the correct shape that would allow me to once again use my legs.

My hands caught the railing on the lower flight, and I swung myself down, pain lancing through my shoulders as my arms absorbed the impact. I landed on the mid-level landing with a grunt, glancing up just in time to see the raptor girl spring onto the wall, her claws digging into the plaster as she bounced from wall to railing to wall with absurd agility, closing the distance between us with terrifying speed.

No time to admire her prad athleticism. I threw myself down the remaining stairs, taking them three at a time and nearly losing my balance on the last step. The hallway stretched before me—empty except for a water fountain and a row of lockers. No witnesses to my impending mauling.

I could hear her breathing now, quick and excited, the sound of a predator reveling in the chase. I made a desperate break for the exit at the end of the hall, knowing I wouldn't make it but unable to do anything else.

The impact came from behind, a solid wall of muscle and feathers colliding with my back and sending me sprawling across the floor. I skidded to a stop against the wall, the wind knocked out of me, more pain blooming across my already abused body.

I rolled onto my back to see her looming over me, chest heaving, eyes bright with the thrill of the chase. Her claws were fully extended, and a smile that was all teeth stretched across her face.

"That," she panted, "was the most pathetic chase I've had in years. Time for a lesson… in…."

She raised a clawed hand, and I braced myself for the inevitable slashing. Instead, her expression shifted abruptly, eyes widening as she took in my battered appearance now that my hoodie had been dislodged in the fall.

"Oh," she let out with an exhale.

Her gaze traveled over my bruised face, the bandaged cuts visible through my torn shirt, the healing bracelet on my wrist. The predatory gleam in her eyes dimmed, replaced by something else entirely. Confusion? Concern?

"What the fuck happened to you?" she asked, her voice lower now, the growl gone from it.

"Bad day," I managed, wincing. "Biker gang. Dungeon monster. Angry raptors. The usual."

She continued to stare, her head tilting slightly in that universal pradavarian gesture of reassessment.

"You didn't even have the sense to be afraid of me," she said, more to herself than to me. "Running with those injuries... Are you stupid or just completely lacking in self-preservation?"

"Yes," I replied automatically.

To my surprise, a short bark of laughter escaped her. "And you still have the audacity to be a smartass."

She crouched down, bringing her face level with mine. This close, I could see the shiny flecks of amber in her eyes, the intricate eye-patterns in her fluttering feathers, the subtle texture of her scaled skin where it met plumage shifting from sparkly violet blues to emerald greens.

"Hrmm. I see. You're that new transfer everyone's talking about," she said. "The level three human claimed by Adler's biker pack?"

"Word travels fast," I muttered.

"It's a small school with big gossip." She reached out, and I flinched instinctively. She paused, then more slowly extended her hand, gently tilting my chin up to examine the claw marks on my face. "These are fresh. Skid Marks gave them to ya?"

I nodded, surprised by her knowledge and the unexpected gentleness of her touch.

"Captain Adler has distinctive claw patterns," she explained, releasing my chin. "I've seen her work before. She… she's never gone out this much though. What the hell is wrong with that knobfold? She in cycle or something? I…" she inhaled deep. "I don't get it."

"Don't get what?" I asked, looking up at her.

"You smell dead," she said after about fifteen seconds, a gold necklace with a ruby gemstone pulsing on her very curvy chest as she loomed over me on all fours.

"What?" I asked.

"Like… a zombie. You know? A dungeon Sentinel… Many of your cells smell like they've atrophied, rotten from inside. And you're… running, jumping around, being a sassy knob? How?"

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"Shitty spellchain experiment combined with my rare skill," I said. "While I appreciate being smothered by a very pretty raptor, mind getting off me now before I lose more blood?"

She got off me with a violet blush and stood, offering me a hand. After a moment's hesitation, I took it, allowing her to pull me to my feet with effortless strength.

"Claiming is a serious crime when done without consent," she said, her tone shifting to something more formal. "I ought to find that beerch and snap her neck."

"So I've been told," I replied, brushing dust from my clothes. "I've got a week to get it removed."

She studied me for another long moment, then nodded sharply, as if coming to a decision.

"Follow."

"To where?"

"To the school nurse, you knob," she replied, already striding down the hallway with the confident gait of someone who expected to be followed. "Those injuries need proper treatment, not whatever bargain-bin bandages you've got on there."

I hesitated, eyeing her retreating back. On one hand, proper medical attention sounded lovely. On the other hand, following a predator who had just chased me through the halls seemed like questionable decision-making.

"I don't bite," she called over her shoulder, not bothering to look back. "At least, not humans who already look like they've been put through a severe whalloping."

"Comforting," I muttered, but found myself limping after her anyway.

Better the raptor you know is only half-interested in killing you than the ones who might be fully committed to the idea.

As we walked—or in my case, hobbled—she cast occasional glances my way, her expression unreadable. The predatory intensity from earlier had vanished, replaced by something that almost resembled concern, though I wasn't naive enough to fully trust it.

"I'm Krysanthea, by the way," she said finally, breaking the awkward silence. "Krysanthea Strand."

"Strand? As in...?"

"Yes, that Strand family," she confirmed with a roll of her eyes. "Before you ask—yes, my father is Lord Marshall, and yes, I'm related to those three harpies who harassed you earlier today and ranted on Pradstagram about a fucked up, half dead human gangster."

"Katherine, I think her name was?" I offered.

"Kat," she nodded. "My sister. I cracked my egg a few minutes before she did. She never forgave me."

I chortled, which earned me a look of brilliant, gold-amber eyes.

We turned a corner, and the nurse's office came into view—a modern-looking clinic with actual high end medical magitek equipment visible through the glass door, not the glorified band-aid dispensary most high schools called a health center.

"So," Krysanthea continued as we approached, "You've met three of my younger sisters, and apparently had a run-in with the Skid Marks, all before even completing enrollment. Is there anyone in Ferguson you haven't managed to antagonize yet?"

"The day's still young," I replied dryly, which earned me a snort of laughter.

She pushed open the door to the nurse's office, and a wave of antiseptic air and ozone washed over us. The interior was spotless, with several examination beds separated by privacy curtains and cabinets filled with medical supplies, healing potions and glowing herbs.

"Nurse Redstriss," Krysanthea called out, "Got a new student who needs attention."

A raptor woman with deep crimson plumage emerged from a back room, her white lab coat crisp and immaculate. She took one look at me and immediately switched into professional mode.

"On the bed," she ordered, her tone allowing no argument. "What happened?"

"Adler happened," Krysanthea answered for me, gently but firmly steering me toward the examination bed. "Attacked outside of town."

The nurse's expression darkened. "That girl manages to bring students into my office even after her expulsion."

I eased myself onto the bed, wincing as my abused body protested yet again. "Yep. They caught me at a gas station this morning, about two hours out from town."

Nurse Redstriss's claws clicked as she pulled on medical gloves. "And you drove all this way in this condition? Humans, I swear..."

She ran a medical scanner over my body, frowning at the readings. "Multiple lacerations, bruising consistent with pradavarian claw and impact trauma, two cracked ribs, subcutaneous hemorrhaging in several areas..." Her frown deepened. "And significant… partial organ failure, nerve and deep tissue damage that appears to predate today's injuries. What happened there?"

"Spellchain experiment gone wrong," I explained. "My brother, a few months ago."

"Your brother experimented on you?" Krysanthea asked, her brow ridges furrowing.

"I can't die," I said. "He paid me. With… money he stole from our parents."

"What the fuck," Krysanthea's claws opened and closed. "Family… family shouldn't do that to each other!"

I shrugged, wincing.

The nurse made a disapproving noise as she calibrated a magitek healing device. "I'm going to apply a targeted mana field to accelerate healing. It won't fix everything, but it should handle the worst of the immediate injuries. Honestly… I've never seen anyone this injured and mobile. You should be in shock from pain, passed out on a stretcher. And your blood…"

"What about my blood?" I yawned.

"It's not… flowing right," Nurse Redstriss said. "It's like… it's trying to stay in your body. On purpose. I've never seen anything like this. Many of these cuts burst completely open very recently. You should be bleeding to death now, yet you are not. Hrm. What in the Abyss happened?"

I glanced at Krysanthea with a poignant look.

"I… urm… chased… him down and… crashed into him," the raptor girl rubbed the back of her feathery head.

"I expected better of you, Miss Strand," Nurse Redstriss shook her head. "Attacking an incredibly injured student in the hallway?"

"He goaded me into it!" The raptor girl tried to defend herself. "I didn't know… Didn't notice how hurt he was, I swear! I didn't mean too…"

Nurse Redstriss's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Miss Strand, this is the third incident this month. I've shielded you enough."

"It wasn't like that," Krysanthea protested, her feathers flattening against her head. "I didn't realize—"

"You didn't realize?" The nurse's voice cracked like a whip. "A human stumbling through the hallway covered in bruises and bandages, and you thought what—that he'd make excellent prey?"

I watched the exchange with growing discomfort, feeling like I'd stumbled into a long-running argument.

"I think it's time we informed your father," Nurse Redstriss continued, her tone leaving no room for argument.

The effect on Krysanthea was immediate and dramatic. Her confident posture collapsed, and something like genuine fear flashed across her features.

"Please, Nurse Redstriss," she said, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "I swear this was different! I stopped as soon as I realized that he was hurt! I brought him here myself!"

"After you chased him down the hallway and tackled him to the ground," the nurse countered, adjusting the healing device over my ribs. "You reopened at least twenty of his wounds, Krysanthea!"

"I didn't mean—"

"Intent doesn't matter when the result is the same." The nurse's expression softened slightly as she looked at the raptor girl. "This is your last chance, Kristi. I mean it this time. One more incident like this, and I won't have a choice."

Krysanthea nodded, her gaze fixed on the floor.

"You want to do better?" Nurse Redstriss's voice was gentler now. "Then do better! Take care of him."

"What?" Krysanthea's head snapped up, her eyes wide.

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