The Sentinels Make the clock reverse

Kirain felt like a fool. Here she was, blubbering like an idiot while Solenya was only trying to be kind. The embarrassment clung to her, hot and suffocating, and she wished she could simply melt into the earth like snow beneath the first warmth of spring.

A choked laugh slipped out, brittle and humorless. She drew in a deep breath, trying to steady herself.

No... it’s not the otter. Not really. Her voice trembled, threaded with the ache of memory. This whole situation, it reminds me of something. A similar mistake I made many moons ago.

She paused, lips pressing into a thin line, and gave her head a frustrated shake.

I pushed my body too far, too fast. I was exhausted, half-starved. Then a kind man found me. And instead of taking advantage of my weakness... he fed me. Protected me.

Her gaze dropped to the otter. Carefully, she reached out and opened its belly with a claw, mimicking a gesture from the past, one etched into her bones.

We became inseparable, she murmured. He had these grand plans... beautiful hopes and dreams. And I followed him. I trusted him with everything I had.

Her voice faltered, caught between the weight of remembrance and fresh pain.

And then, one day…

She fell quiet. The silence hung heavy between them before she finished in a whisper, barely audible:

He abandoned me.