It is an old scent - older than many others I know these days. It swims with the free lands, of pines and dirt, but of little more. It smells of blood - my blood, the blood of my youth. Part of it smells like Eloah, a scent I know well at least from the borders of Taviora. But it is not Eloah and not Renai but the midway point between the two - Kamala. The name sits atop my tongue, a name unspoken for years. I breathe in the remnants of her scent as they slither through the breeze down the coast - it takes me some time to realize she has entered the pack land, her scent now mixed with the sea and salt. It is unexpected. It is new.
She was never truly my daughter - no, she was her mother's. If I think back, I realize it is very much an instance where she had decided a long time ago to not want to be my daughter perhaps. In retrospect, I cannot blame her. She was born under lust and a search for power, born into a pack separate from me and from her other siblings...it makes sense for her to seek her place elsewhere. Yet, I do not forget her. As I begin down the shoreline, I cannot help but let my mind wander over the possibilities of what she has become and what she is yet to become.
When I find her, she seems almost confused. I slow at my approach, keeping quite the distance as my head tilts in investigation; I pause and sniff, once and twice, before I truly approach. My eyes narrow as I come within several yards, unsure as to why she has sought me out. It is not unwelcome, no, but I have never been...easy when it comes to the unexpected. My instinct says to remind her of her place and yet, I keep myself neutral, my tail swinging relaxed and ears lazily forward. Yet, I feel my eyes are hard upon her. It cannot be helped - she is a face I have not seen in years, a face that stares back with the same gold of my own. "Kamala." Her name feels foreign and it lingers in the air before my mouth closes. Strange to say it, even stranger to hear it. Nonetheless, my head tilts again, an unspoken question as I seek to find her motives.