Mother had raised her well. She knew her place, her proud heritage, her noble calling. She was a Dame, a lady knight, and a strong one at that. All her life she'd been in training, practicing hard and learning painful mistake by painful mistake until everything was just perfect. It was not a childhood wasted in foolish frivitly and silly games. It was a dedication to duty, an endeavor of strength and will. She was a Dame. She had made her mother proud to call her daughter. She, though as dark as her father, was the star that glowed in shadow, outshining those that sparkled in the light. She was Kurroa, the black star. No matter what had come her way, she had met it with her head held high and her honor beating proudly in her breast. Her life had always been a testiment to her devotion, to her dedication, her utmost loyalty to her pack and it's code of honor. Even in her lowest moments, she never lost sight of her duty.
She remembered the trepidation she had felt as the week of her coming of age trial loomed before her. The way each second seemed to scramble past and escape her as she waited for her eldest sister to return, then her brother, then her other sister. One by one they had vanished into the mountain, and one by one returned successful from its trial. The night before her turn had been long and restless, though she knew she needed her rest. Kurroa would not fail, could not falter. Her training was intense, was thurough. She knew her skills were sharp and her senses honed, her instincts keen and her knowledge more than sufficient; and still she could not calm the turmoil in her mind nor erase the knot in the pit of her stomach.
That night she had left the family den, as she would soon leave it forever, to sit and stare up at the stars. He had found her there, as though he, somehow, knew. The little Jumper had come and without a world stretched out on his belly beside her, resting his muzzle on his brown paws and just resting quietly. It was strange to think she'd wanted little to do with him when first they'd met. He'd been laying at the edge of a steep cliff, his tiny toes stretching off over the abyss. He'd seemed such a fool to her then, and a commoner besides. Scoffing, Kurroa had been about to dismiss him when she learned of his family. How his mother had died in childbirth and the rest of his siblings with her, leaving him behind. Of course, the pup hadn't told her in so many words. Gone to live in the sky, hadn't he said? Such a naive little thing, she'd decided, and taking pity on him had become a companion. He'd been so easy to please, and so eager to please in return. Silly boy. And yet, there was something about him, something that could soothe her soul when it became troubled beneath the mask of her honor. How he knew when she was lost inside she didn't know, she wasn't even sure he did know. All she knew was that he turned up when she needed solace, and never speaking of her moments of weakness, would rememain until it had passed.
He'd vanished by the time she'd woken from a sleep she'd needed but didn't expect to have, and had nodded to her like all the others when she'd left the dens to face the mountain's trial. As if nothing had happened. As if he'd never joined her to bring her the peace she'd needed. She didn't waver after that night, striding through the challenge of the mountain spirit and returning home a recognized adult. A few days later she faced her mother in her duel of knighthood. It had been an honor to fight her, mother had always been her idol, her aspirations for perfection stemmed from a desire to one day be equal to her. Kurroa had lost the match, it was only expected, but had been given the title of Dame. She'd been born with the right, but her life had been dedicated to properly earning it. And so she had.
Now she was a lady knight, just as her mother was. She was a skillful warrior, defender of their pack and instructor for the youngest squires. She was a strict teacher, a hard teacher, but a good one. Just as her mother had been. She taught the youths, practiced her techniques with the other young Dames and Knights, and patrolled the borders of her pack with the other guards. She watched as some of the young ones she'd aided in training vanished into their trials, and was pleased by the testiment to her training their safe returns had been. But she'd only felt that trepidation when a certain young Jumper left to become a Ranger.
Aheero returned, of course, in good health and in good time. It was only natural that he do so, she had, after all, helped to teach him as well. When they were young, when they were merely children still. Now they were adults both, successful and important members to the pack they'd grown up within. She never doubted his loyalties...until the day he vanished. His father was unconcerned, though being a Knight the dog should have been able to stand firm no matter what the situation. As could she. But still, down in that deep hidden place where her honor and pride sometimes wore a little thing, she worried. In vain, as it turned out, for Aheero returned just as he had from the mountain's trial. He'd been exploring, he explained, just as was a Ranger's duty. But very few ever vanished for as long as he had, or as frequently.
Kurroa had confronted him upon it once, that secret place where her emotions still wriggled and writhed filled with something she couldn't quite place. Anger or worry or some such thing. She'd expected him to be secretive, wondered if he might perhaps be breaking the codes. But he was open to her questions, and his answers, though they should have surprised her, did not. He'd always wondered, she knew this from the first day she'd met him. Now it seemed he wandered as well. He'd traveled far into the mountains, down along the slopes and even ventured out into the lands below. It was strange behavior to be sure, but Kurroa had found herself drawn to his stories in spite of her better judgement. Her place was here, of course, guarding the territories from any dangers. Aheero's stories of the world far below...they assuaged her own secret wonderings. Sometimes, in the deep of the night when she lay alone watching the stars in the blackness, she wished she might see this world as well. But her duty remained a solid anchor, binding her heart and soul to her place.
It was fortunate that she never left, for if she had given in to the shameful desires she might have, in her negligence of duty, allowed the terrible disaster to befall another. As it was, she was the only one to suffer for the attack she'd nearly stumbled away from. An enterprising feline of some kind, she'd not recognized the breed at the time, had been laying in wait in one of the trees that stubbornly rooted itself to the cliffs. Her wonderings cost her an eye, but her fellow Dames and Knights drove the cat away before harm could befall one of those they protected. The Cleric staved off infection, but her eye was gone. A punishment, Kurroa knew, for allowing herself to be tempted to neglect her duty.
Just as she was now tempted.
The Dame sighed, her face uplifted to the stars above. Her duty to continue her line, to take a worthy mate and keep the bloodlines strong. She could, of course, make her own choice. She was not shamed, never broken the code. But she have not loved any of the Knights who'd once seemed interested in gaining her attention. Her mother she admired, her father she appreciated, but as far as love went...she felt very little of that. It was one of the many emotions she'd burried deep within that secret place that longed to be tempted, the place she kept watch over with her blinded eye lest she succumb to its weakness. He was a good Knight, this dog. Strong, skilled, clever enough for a male. He was older than she, true, but not unbearably so. His markings were pleasing to the eye, his scars merely proof of the many trials he'd overcome. He would make a good mate. He was a reasonable choice, a wise choice. Perhaps he would be her only choice now, for she was half blind and therefore crippled. Kurroa hated that word. Cripple. She was strong! She could still fight, could still teach, still patrolled the borders. But there was a faint awkwardness to her now, and an uncertainty to her steps. Distances were much harder to judge, and, high in the mountain's peaks, it truly mattered whether or not she could tell how far off the next jump was.
Aheero didn't seem to mind her eye. He was the only one who, aside from his initial concern, had not treated her any differently after the accident. He'd never changed, it seemed, from the little pup she'd met at the edge of the mountain's cliffs. Quiet but open, easy to please but hardly a fool. If only he weren't a Ranger...wait. Kurroa shook her head, the tuft of fur that she had allowed to grow until it covered her blind eye flopping and tickling her nose. What was she thinking that for? More wonderings. She would take a Knight as her mate, a proper male of her own rank. So what if he would probably take her if she asked him? She could see his face now, those soft green eyes bright with pleasure as his feathered tail waved, the way his pale chest would swell as he ducked his head in an attempt to maintain his humility in spite of the joyful pride...
"No," Kurroa growled to herself, dragging her claws through the dirt. Aheero was a Ranger. She was a Dame. He was a childhood friend. Nothing more. He would never be more. Her mother had taught her well, spirits rest her soul. She would do her duty, and she would do it properly. Her mask back in its place, the dark Dame rose to her feet. She would go to him this evening. She would tell him she had accepted his proposal. They would stand before the sky and mountain and be bound together as one. He would be a good father for her pups, together they would raise the little ones into proper Knights and Dames, grandchildren that her mother would be proud of.
Aheero would be happy for her, she knew. He would think she was in love, he would laugh and tease and congratulate her. He would never know the truth... no. There was no 'truth'. There was only what was. And she would do her duty.
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