Moonspear rosehips

No one had told her not to go toward the light.

But surely this was the origin story of such a saying. She had gone toward it, and went straight to Hell. Orca II was an ornery baby who wailed nonsensically (oh! the humanity!) to any who might listen. Was anyone listening? What the hell had that light been? Back to the pit of darkness she was, but now she was both cold and alone. The new real estate was nice, but the cold?

She wanted out. And Orca II would be sure to inform everyone to never go toward the light when they saw it.

But then there was warmth, and that was... not so bad. Her stomach dropped rather suddenly as she was lifted (aaaaaa!!!! came her mighty roar mousy squeal), but the horror yielded a bountiful and delectable meal. Orca splayed her paws out on her mothers side and began to happily knead and smack her lips with newfound joy.

Alright. Ok. Yeah. This wasn't so bad. Add to that the sudden additional warmth of something familiar (oh, hello again @Seal! when the hell did you get here?! you've got to try this stuff), and Orca II decided she could get used to this.