Aurora watched Mira for a moment in silence, assessing the woman. Then she gave a small nod.
"Help me carry those to the stream," she said, gesturing toward the discarded tubers.
Mira didn't question her. She simply bent down and picked up a few of the thick roots while Aurora gathered the rest, and followed in silence.
The two walked in quiet coordination while the cub padded along at Aurora's side. They didn't head toward Aurora's cave. Instead, Aurora chose a different stretch of the stream - one far enough to avoid any unnecessary attention.
When they arrived, she crouched at the water's edge and began washing one of the tubers, rubbing away the dirt with steady, practiced motions.
Mira mirrored her actions without being told. There was no awkwardness in the silence, only observation and learning.
Once cleaned, Aurora lifted one of the tubers and without hesitation broke it cleanly in half, revealing the pale flesh inside. She didn't explain, didn't dramatize. She simply raised one half and took a bite.
Mira's eyes flickered as she watched in silence, observing for any sign of poisoning.
Aurora chewed slowly with a neutral expression on her face. Then swallowed and said plainly, "…Edible."
There was no sign of poisoning, no reaction. Nothing. Just calm certainty.
Mira studied her for a moment, then glanced at the other half of the tuber still in Aurora's hand.
Aurora extended her hand, offering the other half, and Mira accepted without any hesitation.
Unlike the others who disliked Aurora and kept their distance from her, Mira was acting completely different. She hadn't shown even the slightest of scorn. But at the same time, she didn't act too friendly either.
Mira stared at the half piece for a brief moment before taking a small bite. Her brows furrowed slightly as she found the taste... different. It wasn't unpleasant, but unfamiliar - earthy and mildly sweet. It was very different from the meat and fruits she was used to.
She chewed thoughtfully. Then took another bite. And another. Finally after she finished the third bite, she nodded. "It's not bad," she admitted. "But it's not something we would prefer over meat and fruits."
Aurora's lips moved slightly, not in a quite smile but still close enough. "I know a better way to prepare it."
Mira's eyes sharpened as her interest sparked. "I'm listening."
Instead of telling her exactly what she's about to do, Aurora just looked around and walked back towards the line of trees to gather the materials she needed - dry leaves, twigs, sturdy branches, and finally a few flat stones that looked somewhat good enough to start a fire.
Mira followed her movements, confusion gradually replacing curiosity. "What are you doing?" she asked finally.
Aurora didn't pause as she answered, "Preparing."
"For what?"
Aurora straightened slightly, holding a bundle of dry twigs.
"Fire."
Mira froze at the word. "…Fire?" Her voice came out quieter than expected, almost cautious.
Aurora glanced at her, noticing her reaction. "You haven't seen it?"
Mira's expression shifted from confusion to disbelief. "You are going to create fire?" she asked slowly.
Aurora tilted her head slightly. "…Yes." She said it like it was obvious. Like it was nothing.
Mira stared at her for a long moment before asking, "Do you even know what you are saying? Or are you just playing trick on me?"
Aurora didn't respond immediately. Instead, she crouched and began arranging the dry materials into a small, structured pile. "I'm not playing any tricks." She finally said softly.
Mira stepped closer, her gaze fixed on Aurora's hands. "How do you even know about fire?" she asked, her voice more serious now. "Do you not understand how rare it is?"
Aurora paused just for a second as her mind flickered through the original owner's memories - searching, looking for anything related to fire. But... she found nothing.
There was no knowledge about fire, no mention of the word, not even a vague idea. It was as if the concept simply didn't exist for her.
Aurora's eyes darkened slightly, and Mira noticed the shift.
"There is only one tribe that has fire," she said, her tone quieter now, almost reverent. "The Eagle Tribe."
Aurora's hands stilled while Mira continued. "A few years ago, one of their people was blessed by the Beast God. He gained the sacred power of fire that night and became Eagle Tribe's High Priest."
Aurora listened.
"He's the only one who can create fire," Mira added. "The only one in the world."
Aurora resumed her movements slowly, her expression unreadable.
"The Eagle Tribe is the only place where fire exists," Mira said. "If someone is fortunate enough to visit during their Beast Festival… they might see it."
She paused for a moment before adding, "I have never seen it myself." Her voice carried something faint - not envy, but something close.
For the first time since arriving in this world, Aurora was completely speechless.
Mira's words echoed in her mind - power of fire… bestowed by the Beast God - and for a brief second, she simply stared at woman, unable to decide whether to laugh or question the entire foundation of this world's beliefs.
The idea that something as basic as fire was considered divine power was already absurd enough, but to think it was believed to be a blessing given personally by a god… that required clarification.
"Navi," she called internally, her tone calm but edged with curiosity. "Is there actually a Beast God granting powers like this?"
There was a brief pause before the system responded, its voice noticeably less playful than usual.
[Negative. The gods have long ceased direct interference in the realms they created.]
Aurora's eyes narrowed slightly.
[High probability: the individual in question independently discovered fire creation and attributed it to divine blessing to consolidate authority and status.]
"As expected," Aurora thought.
It made sense. Too much sense.
If this so-called Beast God truly granted such power, there was no logical reason for only one individual in the entire world to receive it. Power, especially divine, did not operate on such selective scarcity unless it was being controlled or fabricated.
And in this case, the explanation was obvious - Someone had learned how to create fire, and then lied.
Aurora exhaled softly, her thoughts settling quickly. If that was the case, then the situation before her had just become significantly more… convenient.
Because if one person could claim divine blessing...
So could she.