It was boring, as usual. As Mukuro had gone through all of the realms of existence, at this point, he was just going through each on a whim.

Currently, he was in the third realm, the realm of Animals.

He hooted sleepily as dawn arrived. He raised one of his wings and stuffed his head under it, but not before his sharp ears caught the sound of another bird. It was a beautiful sound, and it rejuvenated every cell in his body. All fatigue that had ached his muscles disappeared in a second and within another, he was out flying in search of the bird that sang the song.

He arrived at, coincidentally, the same field that he had been hunting in during the night before.

A little gray bird was fluttering high in the air, almost like a little gray speck, chirping a song at the top of it its lungs.

A skylark? Mukuro thought, bemusedly. The little bird dove in and out of the field of wheat like it was water. Mukuro sat on his perch for a while watching the dance of the skylark, transfixed at the sight. In and out, and barely a ripple in the golden ocean of wheat.

A particularly strong gust of wind rustled the leaves almost violently. The sound caught Mukuro off guard and he hooted in surprise. He mentally cursed (as much as an owl can curse, in any case) himself for being so distracted that even wind would startle him. His large eyes traveled back to the skylark, almost worried about his reaction.

The gray bird froze in mid air as he determined where the sound was coming from, grains still in his mouth. He caught Mukuro's eye and gave a startling squawk that was diminished by the squeakiness of his voice.

Mukuro hooted out a chuckle and spread his wide wings with grandeur. He left the perch that he was sitting on and went back to his own tree trunk. He wiggled around to get comfortable before falling asleep under his wing with a slight smirk.

...he needed to wake up early to nurse his broken pride.


The following morning, Mukuro found himself returning to the farm.

Although he was already tired, he dropped himself on the same branch as the day before. Still slightly hungry (nursing his pride took up a lot more time than expected and he had gotten into a slight tussle with a cat) his ears heard a little rustling that he soon found to be a field mouse. He debated whether he should eat it or not: food was a good thing, but he didn't want to miss or scare off the skylark. And the fact that field mice had too much field and not enough mouse in them.

His belly ached and that decided it for him. Without further thought, he swooped down upon the unfortunate mouse. He chased it out of the fields and continued to play with it for a few more seconds, snipping at the mouse's tail here and there. He hooted out laughter. The mouse attempted to take advantage of the temporary distraction and tried to run away. Mukuro hooted laughter again and dug his talons into the mouse's flesh.

Or at least, he would have if not for a beak that dug into his shoulder.

Mukuro froze, and the other bird propelled forward and snapped at the owl. Mukuro hooted angrily as he moved out of the way. He watched, very irked, as the mouse scurried away and the other bird still blocked his movements. He hooted angrily at the interfering bird but almost choked when he noticed exactly who it was.

The little gray skylark.

That didn't stop him from attacking, though. He lowered his head and clipped at the other bird's neck. A coppery taste filled his mouth. He released the smaller bird, startling the latter who was struggling desperately to escape.

Unperturbed by the blood that was beginning to mat his feathers, the skylark squawked loudly and clawed at Mukuro's eyes. He managed to graze skin under his eyes and nipped sharply at the joint between the owl's body and wing.

Mukuro, impossibly annoyed, tried to dig his claws into the skylark. He only got in a small scratch on the bird's wing before it flew out of the way and scratched deeply into Mukuro's body. The two of them flew backwards as they sized each other up.

Both were covered in blood, effectively mapping their feathers down.

The skylark snapped at the owl and chirped angrily. Mukuro's large eyes blinked slowly, and then he let out a laugh.

How could he possibly consider a tiny bird like this a worthy opponent?

Still chortling with laughter, he flew off, leaving the skylark bewildered and angry.


It seemed like no sooner after he had fallen asleep, he was woken up rudely by a nip to the wing.

Mukuro hooted angrily as he flapped his wings to get rid of whoever it was that was disturbing his peace. When he noticed that it was the same little skylark, apparently intent on revenge, he paused and came out of his little hole.

Mukuro noted smugly that some feathers were still tinted red and the part where Mukuro had in his beak was bare and an angry red.

The skylark flew forward to bite Mukuro. The latter just chortled out a hoot before obliging to the skylark's demand and attacking right back.

Mukuro noticed, with satisfaction that no matter what injuries the skylark obtained, he always fought back with the same aloof ferocity.

He approved.