Monsters were usually vicious when they were hungry—desperate, aggressive, reckless.
So why didn't it attack me?
Curiosity nudged me forward—against every survival instinct I had. Slowly, I opened my inventory and pulled out the dead hare I'd caught earlier. My hand hesitated for a moment.
"This is either kindness," I muttered, "or the dumbest decision I've made today."
[Bold words considering your track record]
I ignored the system and gently tossed the hare toward the Tigara's side.
The body landed softly against the cave floor.
The Tigara's good eye opened again, tracking the movement. It looked at the hare.
Then it looked back at me.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then it snorted.
Not angrily. Not threateningly.
Dismissively.
As if I'd just offered it something mildly insulting.
"…Excuse me?" I muttered under my breath. "You're starving and you're still picky?"
