Angra moved slowly, the sun had worn him out, a fight here, a carcass to be eaten there. The walk was enough as it was. The sun was blistering and he despised it so. His pelt was not black like a companion he once had, but it was dark enough to cause problems for him. He was boiling; melting even and probably had a touch of sun stroke by now. This was all it took for the reimagining’s to occur. He fell, recognizing his body crashing then he blacked out, head throbbing, fur bristling and attempting to defend its’ owners flesh, but it was no use, he was gone.

Leaving the body behind Angra is settled into a nice area, trees are breezing about and the feeling was happy, the sun shone above him and there was his Father, a faded purple creature, wing marking same as his own, yet different. He figured he didn’t know where he got his markings, perhaps his Mother. He shudders lightly at the thought of his Mother, a young beautiful female he tried rescuing about 6 times before realizing what dead meant. But there she was, pelt a glowing blue, markings a beautiful green and eye’s hazy but on her mate, his Father. Angra watched in pure bliss at what was happening. She was plump with children.

Angra watched carefully, he was starting to think perhaps he was gifted a seer ability, gifted the sight to see the present occurrences. Perhaps his Mother still lived? He convinced himself this quickly, for all it took was his hope, the hope of a lion without hope is something special and rarely created without purpose. And so the hope burned on, creating a bubble for him, his Mother walked gracefully, as he always imagined she did, her face was never to him, he craved to see her face, the tender features he always wished for, but could never see. Where was this going?

Suddenly things seemed to happen all at once, the skies darkened quickly and the trees went a dull gray, there was a screaming, a crying... his Father was crouched at his Mothers side, whispering nothings into her ears, trying to calm and comfort her, trying to do anything that would cease the heart wrenching screams. The screams echoed for what seemed like hours, the sun could have rose and gone and Angra would not have noticed. His eye’s were glued, then he tried to move, tried to help his Mother, he couldn’t, he coudln’t move! What was this treason, what was happening.

Then suddenly the world gets dark, darker then he has ever seen it, it’s warm though, a comfortable place, there is more than one being in the darkness, he wiggled his body, something weird was holding him back but he could feel atleast three bodies. Three? He pondered this quickly and a thought to turn all stomachs hit him hard. He was not alone, he was more than with someone. He was with his brother and another being? He did not know there was three of them? A third one? He was frustrated, hurt and confused.

A squishing noise interrupted his thoughts, what was happening? He felt a rushed feeling, he may have realized who he was with in a sense, but he did not realize where he was. He watched slightly, a sudden light then darkness, then light again! What was happening, he suddenly felt a push, he tried to cry out, tried to stay where he was, it was safe and warm, an embrace he never got to feel as a child. He tried to cry out once more and then it happened. He was forcibly free, forcibly removed from his last safe place on earth, from his only comfort he’d ever truly feel.

There lay a small Angra, pelt covered in the juices from his Mothers womb. “Mother..” His words were tainted somehow, broken, destroyed. His mind was spinning uncontrollably and then there he was gazing into his Mothers lifeless eye’s. Her form unmoving, a last gasp of air leaving her body, his eldest unknown sibling had taken off, his Father was no where to be seen and his brother had already blamed him. Neither of them knew precisely what had gone on, but Angra knew one thing, he was on his own.

The tears had begun, he felt wet, uncontrollable gasps for breath and then the light again.

“Noooo, not the light again!” He cried out, suddenly revived from his black out. The sky had become dark, his emotions were running ramped and he was alone. The worst was he was alone, no comforting smell, no warm embrace... no eyes to see him well. He began to cry, his realizations were brutal, harsh and realty bit him hard in the a**. It was hard to remember he had Balia, and his cubs and his companions when life kept shoving him in the gutter. He cringed lightly, the Angra before Balia would have raged on something, but regardless how battle hardened she seemed she created a soft spot in him.

He growled at this, playing the blame game. “Balia, it’s all her fault... I did nothing wrong. Why am I being punished repeatedly? I did not kill her. She killed herself.” He regretted those words, the words haunt him everywhere he goes, he pretends to move on, not to care, he refuses to face his brother and does not even know his sister or Father are still around.

Getting up finally after all the grief he moves away. He was done blaming, done hating on everything and moved on, he hated himself more than anything, but still won’t tell a soul about it, not even Balia knows his past. She does not know the pain he went through, the trauma his family put him through, or why he is the way he is today. “And she will never know, not a thing. It is my story to tell, my story to live with and my families tragedies to remember.” A softy he had become, but a softy he would not stay. Angra lived by the claw, and would surely die by the claw. His dream taught him nothing, just brought him sorrow.