"Mom, look! Look there's a bird! A big white bird!" the little girl exclaimed excitedly while swinging her hands.

"Oh, it's a crane... How beautiful," the mother said after seeing what her child is talking about.

"That's a bird right mom? Can I touch it? I wanna touch it!"

"Wait, don’t... It's bigger than you and it could be dangerous!" she said hurriedly when the little girl starting to trot towards the white bird.

"But it's so pretty! How can a pretty thing be dangerous? It's not moving either, is it dead mom?"

The lady inspecting the creature cautiously from where they're standing, noticing the animal didn't move at all and only sitting on the cold fluffy white snow, wondering if it really dead already or not. But then as if the bird heard them, it began moving and flapping it's wings slowly to get rid of a thin snow which was covering it.

"It's alive! It's alive mom! Can we go there mom? I wanna touch it!"

"Dear, but..." she reluctantly took a step forward, "let me try to touch it first okay? If it's safe then you can touch it."

The lady then walking to the bird slowly, trying not to startling the bird so it won't turn aggressive. But as she inched closer the bird didn't do anything, it only turned it's head in curiosity and staring at the adult female human intently. Even as the lady put her hand on it's head, the hern didn't do anything, it just let the lady pet it gently and cautiously.

Unconsciously a smile forming on the lady's lips at the calm display, her fingers keep petting the bird's head until she noticed a dirty shredded cloths in between the bird's legs and under it's wings. Her other hand instinctively reaching out to the cloths, naturally curious but then she jumped backwards when the hern suddenly voiced out a loud noise of protest and opened it's long beak in threatening manner.

"What? What happened mom?? Did you make it angry?!" the little girl yelped in fear as her mother stumbling backwards to where she was.

"I don't know honey,  I just..." she answered flustered but then realization came to her mind as she saw the hern calming down again as it tucked the cloths under it's belly possessively.

"I think the bird protecting those cloths..."

"Why?"

"I don't know, baby..."

“Is the bird sick mom? It looked sick…” she said sadly as the hern continue sat still on the snow lethargically.

The lady seems to share the same sentiment with her child, a soft frown made on her face thinking of how the bird looked like in the verge of dying. But she couldn’t do anything and neither the bird seems want to take a shelter from the harsh weather, it just there not moving from the exact same spot as if it’s life depend on it.

Even a few days later when they came back to take a look on the bird, it still sat there unmoving and seemed to be barely breathing. The mother tried to call emergency seeing as it a wild animal and saving it will preserve the nature, but still even the professional can’t do anything as the bird refuse to move from it’s spot and kept on threatening anyone who tried to take it away from there. The hern also refused to eat or drink nor give in to the help they’re providing.

It seems as if the hern only waiting for it’s end to come.

--

It was another unlucky day for him, seeing as winter is nearing and he’s still unable to gather enough food to survive the harsh season. He sighed for the nth times that day, going home yet another day without succeeding at hunting anything. He sheathed his machete and placing his bow on his back as he’s keep trotting home before the sun going down.

But then he heard soft noises a few meters ahead on from his left, not too far from his house but far enough to make sure no wild animals could endanger his life, the area where he put traps to ensure his safety. After all he’s a mountain man, lived in the forest mountain which full of wild animals, either predators or not.

He slowly skulking to where the noises came from, wondering what kind of wild animals got caught this time. Last time it was a baby deer and he couldn’t not letting it go since it’s still too young, this time he hoped for it to be a full adult animal so it could help him survive the winter. But then his hope crashed down when he found a white beautiful bird which got caught in his trap, he couldn’t make use from birds so then he have to let it go and he will have nothing. He sighed dejectedly again that day.

“Hey birdie, hey calm down…” he eased the panic stricken bird which erratically flapping his wings like his life depends on it. “Calm down bird, I just want to help you get out from that so you can fly away again, hey easy… I won’t hurt you…”

After quite a few scratches and wounds from the painful pecks from the frightened bird, the hunter is able to release the distressed animal. He was instinctively smiling as he softly shooing the bird to fly away, but to his bewilderment it didn’t. The bird looked so weak and it fell into it’s knees as it flapping it’s wings lethargically, not to mention one of it’s legs which caught in the trap dangling lifelessly at the side. The bird keep moving about but it unable to go far away, in fact it’s stuck unable to go anywhere due to the injury. That was when the hunter noticed the odd angled wing.

“Hey birdie, is one of your wing broke?” the man asked as he reached out his hand to inspect the said wing, but of course the bird flapping about even more erratic at that.

It took a lot of will power, energy and good resistance to bring the bird home to tend to it’s injuries. The hunter was a good man after all, he couldn’t just let the bird alone to die when he could probably save it’s life.

--

The fact that the bird’s injuries healing so fast was already mystery enough to the hunter, but even more so when one day –the day he thought to finally letting the bird go back to the wild- he found a white skinned man with lean figure and jet black hair sitting elegantly on a soft worn out pillow which was previously occupied by the bird. To say he was confused, shocked and afraid at the stranger presence was an understatement. He was so close, so close to grab his hunting knife and point it to the stranger before a soft melodius voice hear in soothing manner.

“Please put away your knife, virtuous hunter, I have no intention to hurt you as you never hurt me,” the thick peach colored lips moved in synch with the voice, realizing the hunter the gentle yet almost eerie voice belonged to the stranger sitting before him. “I’m the hern that you saved and I’m very grateful for your kindness for tending to my injuries and letting me stay in your warm house.”

The hunter was itching to say something regarding the bird’s injury, he cause the one on it’s leg after all. But the pure astonishment, confusion and all mixed feelings at the unlikely display caused him unable to say anything. He was only able to dumbly gape at the tender smile the stranger and supposedly the bird he saved was giving to him.

“For the gratitude I owe to you, I’ll give you my name, good hunter of mine,” the lean man said with sincerity and a genuine warm smile. But the hunter knew what he was talking about, if this man truly is the same bird he saved then that means the man is a supernatural beings, and their names are not to make light of. Their names came with absolute loyalty which means the ones who own their names would be able to make them obey every words they say and the supernatural beings wouldn’t be able to deny or have their own freedom unless they’re allowed to.

The hunter hurriedly clasped his hands on the peachy lips to stop the man for saying the name, it was tempting really to have someone –or something- at his beck and call, but he don’t want such a big of responsibility. He’s a man of virtue after all, he would never make light of one’s freedom and life. But his good intention was taken as offend