I could feel heat engulfing my cheeks, acutely aware of the hundreds of eyes now focused on my face.

"I... uhh..." I uttered, trying to gather my thoughts. "I think trust is the most important factor?"

"Trust," Professor Fern repeated, her tone suggesting she found my answer inadequate. "And how does one build trust with beings whose very nature compels them to hunt someone like you?"

I attempted to reorganize my thoughts, momentarily glancing at Candace who stuck her tongue out at me.

"I read about it somewhere a long time ago…" I began, my voice sharpening as I tried to lean back on my sense of tree-self. I immersed myself in the depths of my psyche, spinning the question in my head trying to produce an optimal answer based on everything I read about prads and experienced firsthand yesterday. "All pradavarians are predators bound by their cycle to breed, form packs and act on the desire to hunt. Humans, on the other hand, have no innate desire for the hunt, and can spend their entire life on a couch eating potato chips watching TV."

This drew a few laughs from the other students.

"To build trust with a prad packmate… a human must not back down… encourage a prad to chase them, play the predator and prey game."

"So… as a human you should run away?" Professor Fern arched an eyebrow. "To show your back to a prad?"

"Kinda. Hitting hard and running is part of the game," I said, again glancing at Candace who nodded encouragingly. "Unlike prads, we humans are persistence hunters. We do not give up, even if we are knocked down. Even if a prad takes us down once, we pretend to be weak only to figure out a way to outsmart them later."

"And how exactly does outsmarting a prad lead to… mutual trust?" the raptor Instructor asked.

"When a human runs from a pradavarian, it's not submission, not escape—it's an invitation," I said, thinking back to my fight with the five delvers at the Mini-mart and my chase through school hallways with Kristi. "The prad gets to experience the thrill of the hunt, while the human gets to demonstrate that they aren't easy prey and won't break under pressure. That they can take a hit, fall down and keep moving, get hurt, but not give up."

Several pradavarian students, including Nessy, were now staring at me with evaluating eyes.

"Continue," Professor Fern commanded, her burning eye fixed on me.

I took a deep breath, letting more thoughts flow through that deeper place, that tree-consciousness that seemed to understand things my surface mind couldn't fully grasp.

"The human-pradavarian bond isn't built on equality," I said, my voice growing stronger. "It's built on complementary opposites. Pradavarians are creatures of instinct and often immediate action. They see a threat, they attack. They want something—they take it." Candace squeezed my sides as if agreeing with me. "If a prad girl likes a human and is shown strength, she will attempt to claim them often in extremely violent ways. For a human such behaviour is… unpleasant, but for a prad… it's pure, honest, direct action, the second step of the ritual of trust."

Around the auditorium, pradavarian heads who had human partners were nodding. Even some of the human students were curiously contemplating my words.

"Humans..." I continued, "We're the species that looks at fire and thinks 'how can I control this?' We see a mountain and plan how to tunnel through it. We're builders, creators, problem-solvers. Where prads have instinct, we have persistence. Where pradavarians have immediate power, we have long-term strategy. We conceptualize, we compartmentalize, we multitask, understand and utilize. Not to say that some prads also don't do this, but in general—humans think while prads act. Basically, we humans contemplate how to reach the stars while pradavarian girls lift weights or run laps."

More sprinkles of laughter.

Professor Fern's scarred face remained impassive, but I caught a flicker of something in her burning eye, an edge of an approving smile on her lips.

"So when a pradavarian chases a human, when they take them down, when they... claim and embrace them," I said, my gaze inadvertently flicking to Nessy, who was now turned completely around in her seat, "what they're really doing is testing. Can this fragile, smaller creature handle the intensity of what I am? Can they survive my wild nature without breaking, without rejecting me?"

I thought about my encounter with the bikers, about Addie's behavior when I kept fighting back, about Candace's declaration of submission as I stood up to the Magnetic Lynx and simply spoke without fear to the unstoppable Butcher of Delvers.

"And when the human gets back up, when they keep moving forward despite the pain, despite being knocked down, despite facing death—that's when real trust begins. Because the pradavarian realizes they've found something rare. Not another predator to compete with, but a partner who can endure their fiery intensity and still choose to stay… and not just to stay, but to playfully participate in the chase, to tame and to wield the ever-burning fire of the pradavarian heart!"

My eyes struck Nessy's as I resumed my heartfelt speech, as if I was speaking to just one person in the room.

"The magic happens in the space between. The pradavarian learns they don't have to hold back. They can be fully themselves—fierce, possessive, overwhelming—and their human partner won't give up on them, no matter what. And the human learns that being outright claimed... isn't about losing who you are. It's about being wanted so completely that someone will fight reality itself, sacrifice themselves to protect you."

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The husky seemed to snap along some invisible line, her eyes lighting up, her fluffy tail wagging as she stared at me.

"It's not about dominance or submission," I continued, my thoughts turning to the alien memories of a crystal tree and the sense of a music that I had long forgotten, but somehow kept alive in the depths of my soul. "It's about becoming something neither species can achieve alone. The prad becomes a weapon—a sword, a shield, a magic staff and the human becomes the mind that directs it. Together, they're not just a delving team. They're..."

Nessy's blue eyes were wide open now, and for just a moment, I could have sworn I saw recognition there, as if my words were awakening something she'd forgotten.

"They're almost like two halves of the same soul," I elucidated. "Different species, different strengths, but bound by something deeper than mere survival. Bound by the choice to trust completely, even when everything in their nature says they shouldn't, even when reality decays around you due to Entropy, becomes too aligned to a particular idea due to Syntropy, or has no limits due to Infinity. A human and a prad are an engine of positive and negative… of pure passion and sharp logic, of magic and reason, of strength and intelligence, of brilliant fire and cold persistence… a yin and yang that push against each other constantly, without which there can be no path forward, no success… only death… the death of everything at the end of time."

I concluded my spiel, feeling oddly content as if these words needed to be said, as if I had somehow endured this personally… Long, long ago in another lifetime.

"Wowza," Candace whispered. "Didn't know you had that in ya, darling."

The silence of the hall stretched for several heartbeats as I sat down. Then Professor Fern began to clap—a slow, deliberate sound that echoed through the auditorium.

"Well spoken, Mr. Foster," she said, and there was something like genuine warmth in her voice. "You've just described the theoretical foundation for every successful human-pradavarian delving team in recorded history. The concept of complementary bonding—predator and endurer, instinct and strategy, fire and steel gears."

"And what if we ain't got a weakling human in our team?" One of the raptors, who sounded like… Katherine asked from the middle row.

"On their own, pradavarians quickly establish a clear hierarchical order within their delving team," the Instructor said. "Where might makes right and everyone in a pack follows the toughest Alpha. Prad-only delver teams experience great, rapid levelling success until they encounter an enemy which they cannot overcome with brute strength or magical prowess alone. At such time, they either escape with their tails between their legs or perish together… blindly rushing headfirst into death."

"So," Kat said. "Teams with humans level up slower?"

"Yes," Professor Fern nodded. "Level up slower, but also live longer. The Dungeon Analytics Bureau produced a report that confirms that some high level dungeon Sentinels specifically target pradavarian-only delving teams while completely ignoring ones with a human."

Katherine's emerald-violet feathers bristled as she rose from her seat. "With all due respect, Professor Fern, that's complete bullshit! In fact, everything that poured out of that beat up human's mouth is complete and utter Romanticism-era shite. One can spout statistics about survivability, but often such general statistics don't account for reality and are instead survivor bias!"

"Oh?" Professor Fern tilted her head. "Do outline your reasoning for us, Miss Strand."

"Sure," Katherine nodded. "It's like… World War Two planes returning from missions often had bullet holes concentrated in certain areas like wings and tail sections. The foolish human engineers considered reinforcing these frequently hit areas. However, statistician prad Abraham Wald pointed out their fatal error—planes returning safely could survive hits in these areas, implying these sections were less critical. Likewise, anyone dumb enough to put a human into their pack only makes their delving experience worse, not better."

The teams with humans on them grumbled. Those without seemed to agree with the raptor. Professor Fern's burning eye fixed on the raptor girl. Katherine pressed on.

"Humans are weak," Katherine declared, her voice carrying across the auditorium. "They're slow, fragile, and their mana reload rates are often pathetic in comparison to prad mages. The only reason anyone bothers with them is because of outdated traditions and Nazarite Slayer-tale nonsense that's been romanticized beyond all reason. In fact, some prads tend to obsess with humans to an unhealthy degree."

Several of her fellow raptors nodded in agreement, emboldened by Katherine's words. I could see Nessy shrinking in her seat, her ears flattened against her head as the criticism against humans mounted.

"Ferguson Firestorm is the premier delving team in the region at our age bracket," Katherine continued, gesturing toward her packmates. "All raptor pradavarians, no dead weight. We've won five consecutive regional championships precisely because we don't handicap ourselves with human members who need constant protection and babysitting."

"Hear, hear!" called out one of her teammates. "Why should we slow ourselves down for creatures who can barely survive their first dungeon encounter?"

More voices joined in, a chorus of agreement from the pradavarian students.

"Humans are dungeon bait," someone called out. "They're only good for triggering traps so the real delvers can get through safely!"

The criticism stung, but what bothered me more was watching how the collared human students in the auditorium seemed to shrink into themselves, their shoulders hunching as if trying to become invisible.

Professor Fern listened to the growing tide of anti-human sentiment with that same predatory smile, her claws clicking against the podium in a rhythm that somehow reminded me of a countdown timer.

"The statistics are clear," Katherine pressed on, taking the professor's silence for agreement. "Human-prad teams have lower level advancement rates and require significantly more resources to maintain. They're a delving liability! The only use of a human is to be a good house husband or a maid devoted to cooking, cleaning and child-rearing! They are good for dealing with baby prad tantrums, not meant for dungeoneering!"

"Hear, hear!" A few prad-only teams shouted and laughed in agreement with the raptor girl.

"Fascinating perspective," Professor Fern said when the voices finally died down, her tone mild. "Tell me, Miss Strand, how many legendary-tier dungeons has the Ferguson Firestorm team successfully traversed?"

Katherine's confident expression faltered slightly. "None, since we're supposed to be permitted entry into such this year and—"

"Thirteen trips to the Superstore," Addie commented from behind me snarkily.

"Pffff. Katherine Strand thinks she's hot shit just 'cus she beat some basic-ass dungeon sims and been to the first few levels of Birchwood," Candace whisper-grinned into my left ear, her silver whiskers tickling my cheek.

"Why don't we put your words to the test, Miss Strand?" Professor Fern's smile turned predatory. "I do believe it's time to move on to some practical application, since you're so eager to demonstrate your team's superiority."

The ominous quality in her voice made every survival instinct I possessed start screaming warnings. Before anyone could say anything else, the Instructor was striding toward the rear doors of the auditorium.

"Everyone up!" she commanded. "Follow me."

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