The steady pitter patter of rain is what finally draws me from slumber, rested as I was against the giant figure of my mate. The winter was a warm one, as they had been since I had taken up with Exodus. He did not make me want for anything and had taught me a few things in the process. I suppose one could say I was as pure now as I ever had or ever would be. My mind did not often stray to thoughts of poison, death, and other such misdeeds. Not often, but sometimes. Like this morning as my pink eyes peer from beneath sleep-laden eyelids to spy the side of the den empty. Lucia's side. She was growing fast... too fast. Two years old already and filling out into a woman with each day.

Strong, brave, kind, and sometimes mouthy. It meant that too often I was growing impatient with her, our views varying and quite opinionated. Still, I loved her in the same fierce way I love Myrria. After having met Zanon in the woods all those weeks ago I did not feel too much guilt for my past anymore. There wasn't much I could do about it. I couldn't go back and save my children and I wasn't sure I wanted to. From the whispers in the boughs, it seems some of them were not the good sort anyways.

Was that my blood or Aranck's?

It didn't matter. I told myself that most days but on days like today as I snapped awake at seeing her empty side, I wonder if this is my punishment for my cruelty. A child who was off doing who knows what (I actually knew what.. and with whom). A sharp growl is given that will likely wake Exodus. It was intended to as I stand sharply, my back cracking at the sudden movement. Age had begun to set on me but that meant little now.

"She will be the death of me." And that boy, I think viciously. "I'll be she is gallivanting around with that boy again and that wicked wench is watching over them. Doesn't that bother you, Exodus? She threatened me! I'll bet she wouldn't be above hurting Lucia to get back at me, the vile bitch." Some days, the words tat spewed from my mouth were not the ones I suspect Exodus expected. Some days, the old me bled through, the violent, furious woman that I once was. This was one of those days.