“One.”

A single tear fell down from her left eye as she thought of her subjects, her friends who had fallen. At home, it had been countless wolves, though mainly it had been the guards since Duma had held the rainbows near and dear to his corrupted heart. Those losses had been devastating, yes, but she had not felt their deaths in her soul. But here, Vera had been the first and the most shocking of them all, for Zawyne had seen her body draped across the back of the teenager who had followed her around like a guard… what had been his name? Archangel? Vera’s blood had barely still dripped by the time that Zaffy and the other Arcus Irae had come upon the pair, and it was perhaps more shocking to see it dried like paint upon the hessian’s pelt than it would have been to see it flowing in streams. At least then, the blood would still have held some of her life force, some of her energy… no… when they had come upon Vera, she had been nothing more than a hunk of skin and flesh, muscle and bone… a corpse. Together they had all mourned for her loss and trembled in fear as they thought of the danger they had been in due to their proximity to the vampire pack.

“Two.”


This time, it was her right eye that shed a tear. They had had no time to recover before the agony of Fallon’s death had shot through them all swiftly. Raw wounds tore wider, their bleeding hearts falling in chunks to the floor. Never had Zawyne felt such, never, and she had thought that surely now this, this would be the end to her suffering. But it hadn’t been, not by a long shot. And Zawyne closed her eyelids one final time.

“...Three…”

She had always been particularly close to Fairuz, perhaps as far as to say she had a pup crush on him. And his death had knocked her into a state of waking walking nightmare, where she was in essence a zombie, following her sister and the others from Laod Mor to Dierne Hrof. Nothing in that time had seemed real, nothing other than her pain. But she had also seemed and felt hollow - the two were so completely different and yet somehow seemed to complement each other perfectly in a morose way. Zawyve had been quite silent since then, her peppiness, her happiness, her incessant optimism shattered by the horror of realism. This place, Blossom Forest, had supposed to have been a safe haven for them to hide away from Duma and the others with the hopes that he would not be able to track them here, through the portal. Though it was true that Tempests knew where their wards were at all times, they had never thought about the possibility that Duma would be able to track them here. Wouldn't the magical portal block that? Perhaps it had been a naïve thought, but this place have been meant to be their new hope, and that hope had extended to that same naïve thought. Only time would tell whether or not it would actually proved to be true.

Zawyne was pulled from her trepidation by a sudden call. Some of her pain lifted, because it was someone that she knew, it was another rainbow. How long had it been since she had seen Nyla? Days? Weeks? Months? In her depression, she had lost all track of time, but she was glad to find something to ground her at last. The sunrise princess wiped at each of her eyes to them of their tears, and then groomed the salty evidence off of her forelimbs. Each day since her companions had died, she had shed these three tears. Not more, not less, not two, not four. Spending time more than that to mourn and grieve each day was useless - it would not bring them back, it would not relieve her pain. But in remembrance of them, and to ease her heart‘s suffering, she allowed herself that small amount of time each day. However, she kept to herself at that point, hidden and alone, ensuring that none of the other Arcus Irae saw her cry, saw her weak. She was one of their princesses, and she was supposed to be strong for them. But how could she be strong when she felt so weak?

Her first few steps faltered, and she nearly fell on her freshly cleaned face. A soft whine pulled itself from her lips and she raised her head and set off again, the soft skin of the inside of her cheek firmly pressed between her teeth as she clenched her jaw stubbornly. One day, she would grow into her paws like her sister had, would get long legs and be graceful, delicate, beautiful. But for now, she was a brightly colored ball of fluff whose center of balance shifted day by day and left her awkward and clumsy for most of the time. Zawyne struggled against herself, keeping her pace to a trot instead of an all out gallop across the land. First off, she didn’t have much stamina, and so if she ran for it she would likely tire before she ever would reach Nyla. But she also did not know these lands, and they had treacherous cliffs and jetting routes that would grab at her or seek out her doom. But the hours passed and she kept going despite her tiredness, until at long last she came to the border. All thoughts of exhaustion left her, and she yipped and whined, her butt tucking itself under as her tail wagged furiously as she went running toward Nyla, nearly tackling the other.

“You’re okay! I have been worried that you had been kidnapped or taken or worse… I knew you were not dead… Not like the others… I would have felt that of course. But…” Zawyne rubbed against Nyla affectionately. “I’m glad you’re here! Come on inside! It’s safe here…”

⁂Here^I_{am a}Commoner⁂Teen⁂