Kaya eased toward the cave mouth, boots feeling for every scrap of grip on the wet stone. Spray hit her face, cold and sharp, and the roar of the waterfall pressed against her eardrums until it felt like noise was a physical thing.
She made the mistake of looking down.
Water dropped in a white column into a black pool far below, mist turning silver in the thin light. Pretty, in a distant, painted way. Up close, all she saw were rocks—jagged ledges, hard angles. If she slipped here and her head met even one of those on the way down, that was it. If she was unlucky, she'd bounce a few times and count bones going.
She stopped dead.
"…Wait."
Kaya turned slowly, expression calm, eyes like ice on Veer. "You can fly," she said. No surprise. No warmth. Just a flat statement. "So why are we walking."
Veer stared back at her a second too long. Water dripped off his hair. His grip on Cutie shifted just a little.
"You forgot," Kaya said.
