She walked away. She just walked away without a backward glance. Without fanfare or tearful goodbyes, she left the pride she had been born into. In fact had anyone watched her go, she was certain either to have heard a sigh of relief, or the muttered curses she'd endured the last month. But noone was present. Alone, she walked away.
This was what her life had come to. A solitary existence, cut off from any relation or friend. As her paws carried her further, her heart solidified into a hard lump. Inside her it died, curling in upon itself as the last of her hope for happiness faded. No more for her the life of a protected pride member. No more for her the joking and affectionate family. And all because of one chance occurance. One slight hiccup in the universe, and her life had come crashing down.
Looking back, she supposed it might have inadvertently been her fault. Well, not so much her fault as her circumstance. Stars knew she had done nothing on purpose. Far from it, she had been attempting to do the right thing, so show she was capable of caring enough to merit a mate. But no. Not for her the scene of domestic bliss. No, not ever again. Into the night she padded, still facing straight forward, eyes glittering and hard.
It had been a simple gesture, a kind thought. The precursor to the tragedy had been good intentions. It could have been anyone. But it had been her. As a chill night breeze blew into her face, she gritted her teeth and remembered.
She had been a bachelorette for too long, or so her sisters insisted. The incessant teasing had grown from gentle prodding to more pointed hints as the seasons passed. She had concluded that they probably were right. Some of them already had not just a mate, but litters of cubs to tend. Her sister, chosen of the King, had given birth to a litter of darling cubs, in fact. Four daughters and one son. The sole male heir was much fussed over and beloved by all. The king strode around proudly, chest thrust forward and mane fluffed, as if he himself had formed the child from the dust of the earth. This litter of neices and nephew was enough to stop her and get her to think. Perhaps it was indeed time to consider her future... consider children of her own.
So it was that she went out hunting with a specific purpose in mind. She would bring a savory treat for the prince and princesses. But what to bring? She cast around in the first indications of dawn, seeking the tenderest of prey, the most appealing of flavors. As the sun first peeked over the horizon, she spotted four adult zebra and two foals. Yes, that would be perfect!
They had put up a fierce fight, but she was an accomplished huntress. She culled one adult and one foal from the rest, pinned them into a dip in the land. The baby had stuck like a burr to its mother, or who she assumed was its mother. But the ravine was rife with obstacles, and eventually the mother tripped. The foal, unwise to the dangers, had been bolting top speed at mother's side, and was not coordinated enough or quick-minded enough to slow itself when the adult went down. It shot out into the open, and death descended as the mother brayed a cry. Desired prey caught, she had turned away from the fleeing zebra and carried her prize home through the morning light.
Her gift had been met with happy squeals and the prince claiming the hide for his own. She was given smiles from the older females, nudges from her sisters, and speculative looks from the young males. Oh, how she had glowed in all the attention! Yes, it had been time for her to come into her own....
But that night had changed everything.
She awoke to yowling, wailing cries of distress and grief. Bewildered and alarmed, she had come running along with the rest of the pride, running towards the den of the King. Anxious members crowded around, but were shoved back by the healers. She had caught a glimpse of the small form of the prince, writhing on the floor of the den. Eyes wide, she waited with all the others through the remainder of the night.
That night, her world came crashing down.
The prince died, though of what the healers could not say. It had been a long and painful death, not at all a peaceful way to go. And when the dust had settled, and the keening began, blame began to be placed. Every bit of it was directed at her.
It did not begin quietly or subtly. It began with an old crone of a lioness jabbing her skeletal paw at her nose and sreeching that she had done this. Jabbering had begun all around her, though she tried to set the record straight. Soon many agreed that she indeed had been the one to bring the cubs their last meal, that somehow she must have poisoned him. The King and Queen, still in mourning, had ignored the rumors for a solid week, but did nothing to quell them. Even her sisters were beginning to give her dubious looks, avoiding her company.
After that week of mourning, the King had come forth and called her to him. She had gone willingly, certain that he, being her brother-in-law, would see sense. All the cubs had eaten of the foal, but the she-cubs had not sickened. Surely he could and would see that! But she had been naive to believe it. Instead, with a low and growling voice, he had declared her guilty of murdering the prince. There had been gasps and there had been cheers, but he had held up his paw imperiously. No, she was not to be harmed, he intoned. For being the sister to the Queen, her life would be spared. But no cubs were ever to be entrusted into her care.
The crowd had broken up swiftly after that, though the glares they sent her way told her just how many had wished for her death. The king's decree was respected. Noone laid a claw on her. But that is not to say they did not punish her. She was spat upon, scorned, cursed, and flat ignored. None would eat of any kills she brought home. No male would come within ten feet of her. Noone smiled at her, not even her own mother.
She had endured it as long as she could stand. But now... now, she would endure it no more.
Determined, blind with rage and grief, she strode out into the roguelands, leaving her whole world behind. All her family, all her history, all her heritage, gone. With the last vestiges of emotional fury, she put away from herself her old name, bidding it be forgotten by all who had known it, including herself. From this night forward, she would be known as Tch'kero, the rejected one. Without a destination in mind, without anywhere to go, she chose one of the cold, distant stars high above, and set her paws to follow it wherever it might lead. Regardless of where it led, she would not care. No place could possibly be home anymore.
Cold-hearted and alone, she kept walking away.
