Mika then turned without a word, heading back toward the house. A minute later, he returned, a kitchen knife in hand. The blade caught the light with a clean, silvery edge as he crouched beside the fallen, colorful bird.
And without any hesitation, he began gutting it, moving with the skill and efficiency of someone who'd done this more than once.
Yelena watched him work for a moment before he glanced up at her with a grin that was a little too smug for her liking.
"Well, Yelena?" He said, eyes glinting. "I proved you wrong. So now, you've got to accept your loss and help out with dinner."
She raised an eyebrow, folding her arms. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me." He said, nodding toward the second bird that had died earlier. "Gut the other one. De-feather it. Start grilling it."
Yelena scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Fine, fine, it's enough to tell me twice. I accept it, okay? You win. This is the least I can do."
