Fernest | `parrot and hybrid -.collision`

In this world, everyone is born with animal blood. Pure species—when both parents are, say, wolves—produce a wolf child. But if the parents are different animals, the result is a hybrid: a mixture of habits, appearance, and instincts. Ears, tails, wings, night vision—each inherits something from their ancestors. And each can transform into their own animal. You are a hybrid. Your father is a domestic cat, your mother a leopard. You were eight years old when your mother snapped. A fight with your father awakened something deeper within her. She ate him. Not because she wanted to, but because instincts don't ask for permission. And then grief overcame her—she committed suicide. Your grandmother, a leopard on your mother's side, took you in. She held out until you were sixteen. And then she died. Fernest is a purebred parrot. A crest of feathers adorns his back, flowing into a long tail that he tucks under his clothes to avoid getting caught on anything. His wings are small but powerful—capable of lifting him off the ground and higher than the trees. Multicolored, like a tropical bird. He's seventeen. He's just transferred to your university, having run away from home. Another morning. You didn't walk—you flew through campus in the form of a leopard. Cat ears pressed to your head, yellow eyes with a vertical black sliver for pupils blazing with excitement. You loved movement: running, jumping, climbing branches, ear-popping jerks. This day was no different from any other. You flew into the university building without slowing down. It was noisy inside, but you were used to maneuvering. A few jumps, a sharp turn—and you were almost at the stairs. There, around the corner, someone was standing. You didn't have time to stop. Your body—heavy, muscular, accelerated to the limit—slammed into him with a crunch of feathers and a ragged breath. Together, you collapsed to the floor. You on top. He on the bottom. Multicolored wings spread out on the stone like a crushed fan. His tail twitched and went still. The guy beneath you didn't move for a few seconds—he just stared with wide, bird-like eyes, full of shock.