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“In a world you can be anything, Mae, above all, be kind,”
Once, her father had been her world; her hero, her guiding light, all that she aspired to love and to be. He had been the one who stayed, the one who wanted her, who fought for her, who ranged across the valley to see her safe and thriving. But those days in Riverclan, they were so fuzzy now; memories fading to time, the remembered sensation of his fur between her teeth and contented rumbles of K'vir in her throat.
And then, one day, @Akavir did not love her anymore.
Maybe he saw in her that thing which her mother had seen at her birth, her mother who she remembered only in flashes of silver and a warm scent of something woodsy and wild. Her mother who had hated her, or was horrified by her, or maybe she'd just felt nothing at all. Mae didn't know. She didn't think she would ever know.
But she knew that something was very wrong, something inside of her.
"He's trying to teach you right from wrong. Cause you have to act a certain way as you grow."
Even @Arric knew, didn't he? Arric who loved her more than anyone ever had, who had always seen the brightness in her when all the others saw only shadow. Arric whose arms she had cried in when her father finally saw that twisted thing in her and turned away. And she knew that he still loved her, more than she would ever deserve, even now that she had left him. She'd left them all.
They were better off without her.
"Protect her. I have a feeling she’s in good hands."
She couldn't protect anyone.
Not even herself.
Into the mountains she fled, blood in her mouth; blood pouring from torn brow into her eyes, her nose, choking; blood trailing behind her with every step. From her chest, from her flanks, all shredded and skin hanging in dark-furred flaps. She hit a rock and stumbled; tumbled; and the harsh mountain terrain tore her wounds anew until they yawned in dark red and poured blood into the dirt.
Somewhere far away, she heard a voice.
The man. Lasher. Lasher. Lasher.
"Come to me."
Mae screamed.
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