It has been a long time since the blast that tore my world asunder, a full two years. I roamed, keeping my children with me for as long as I could, making sure they were never far. Capone often went off and did his own thing, but in the evenings he came home, wherever it was, and Fathom did much the same thing. Eventually, they got older, as such they were leaving me more and more, for longer periods. Hours stretched into days, days into weeks. They never stayed away forever, and did occasionally stop by a hollow that I frequented. We would share stories of our adventures, of how Moladion has changed, creatures we have seen, achievements in our lives. I have found that through my children, I can see the world full of innocence again. It is not so hard to do, but as they grew, so did their stories. To listen how their lives progressed, to feel pride, some semblance of happiness. Every time I looked at them, however, a shadow would flit through my mind and I could swear I smelled their father.
Today I was alone, hunting for anything to eat. I had flushed a pair of rabbits from their den inside a rock crevice, but as they ran and I turned my attention to the naked babies inside, I found that my stomach knotted and I grew nauseous. I growled frustrated, moving on to the next prey item available on the list. I could not take a fully grown buffalo on my own, I knew this much. Even a calf would be asking too much from the fates to ever hope to be achieved. Today will end fruitless, and I will be alone to share my disappointment. I wonder where he is, that black mage who stole my heart. I wonder how Kiska is, then the angry part of my mind rears its head and I am bitter again. I have dealt with this as well, attempting to cope with the loss of something that should have been. I moved on, putting him firmly in my past, only to be thought of as a memory as time went on. But, I kept catching tiny scents of him on the wind, only for the briefest of seconds and my heart would soar with hope that I would see him again. I would turn, my aim to greet him, but the scent would vanish and I would be left to ponder my sanity. After a while I stopped looking. I stopped everything. I did not wish to feel that sting every time my heart broke anew, I did not wish to accept the sudden slackening I felt in our bond the day the fire fell.
It was about the time that I stopped looking behind me that I heard his voice. My ears pivoted as I halted my movements, one paw hanging in midair. His voice crept up my spine, lifting every hair with it. My heart broke anew as I listened to the relief in his voice. I felt no relief, only the pain of being forgotten, that ache in my heart knowing that our children and I would not have made it out in time had it not been for fast thinking. Kiska got the right to be with him, and solely him, for two years. Why now does he dare show his handsome face to me? "Devil. I'm...glad you made it out, where is your mate?" Yes, it is a low blow. And yes, it is a long time to carry a grudge, but that is one thing my family is good at. Our hate carries for years!
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