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Minipets swarmed Yin’s ankles, their usual greetings as fur ghosted around his legs, tails wrapped around him, wound past him. He scanned frantically for a sign of what he was looking for. There was Lady Terror. Fei. Kittens upon kittens upon kittens.

She always came to greet him. Or demand that he come to see her as she laid on the bed or in her own small minipet bed. He made his way to the closet, a sense of desperation clawing at his movements as he reached out, yanked open the door. No sign of her. He called to her, closed the door, opened it. Again and again and again. Finally, his voice beginning to go hoarse he saw the small pink ribbon that had been tied around her box, and ribbon in one hand, collar still in the other he sunk down next to the closet door, minipets swarming him, making questioning noises. Concerned noises.

Accusing noises. They were nudging at her collar, small whimpers forming. Blaming him for something that surely had not happened. He leaned over and called into the open closet door, begging for her to come home. She had to be alright, she was all he had left. The hunters had already taken everything else, they could not take her too. They could not have her. She was his. Maybe she was just lost.

But as he closed his eyes he could see the flash of the blade. The blur of fur. Hear the pained whine that came out of her mouth that was unlike any noise she had ever made before. Could see her body go to pieces as her Fear dissipated. Minipets did not come back from that.

As the denial began to wear off despair set in. At first he just noticed the itchy and wet track sliding down his right cheek. Then his left. Then another. That was all it took to open the floodgates. As reality began to set in he was left with huge, racking sobs, and the growing reality that Princess Eva was dead.

After Mot Left Yin had to make his way to the shower. It took longer than it really should have, but he made it. He got there and he took his shower. Like with everything else since he had been captured he seemed to be moving in slow motion taking an extra long amount of time to get clean. But the water did more than simply cleanse him. No, the water, and quite probably the conversation before hand, finally had him up and about again, doing something. Getting the wheels in his head turning as he had to face the hand that he had been dealt.

The hunters were probably getting a kick out of him. Mourning, devastated, unable or unwilling to cope and face reality. To anyone really it probably seemed extreme. But for the mantodae she was more than a simple pet. She started out as one of the first things that had ever been given just to him, and by his first friend when coming to Amityville. His first real friend he had ever made because he had never really fit right with the other boils he had been raised with.

Then the rabo had become more. His family. Maybe Alexander or whomever else had seen them had thought the pair a bit odd, a carnivore and a fluffy little Princess who got her way much more often than not, but it worked for him. No one could have understood how close the pair really was. They could know, but they could not understand.

And all it had taken was one hunter's blade to bring her down. Water ran over him, pounding down but he barely registered it. Why had she done it? If it had been him he could have reformed, coming back after dissipating but that was no big deal. Why had he not been faster? Why had she risked herself? Had not the hunters already taken enough? They took his freedom from him, he knew he could never be the same. It was not fair to blame what had happened with Alexander on them, but he could, and they had certainly started it. But that had not been enough. Perhaps it was not intention but they had taken his Princess away from him. But it had happened. The hunters were taking everything away, maybe turn him to them. But really he just hated them for it. Hated that they took and took and took, and he knew he could not stand idly by as this continued to happen.

If only he had been faster...he saw the attack, if only he had dodged, snatched her out of the way...he could have done it when he was at his peak. He could have done it if he had not tried to weaken himself so he would be less of a threat if the hunters got to him again. But all of that was pointless. If anything...it was probably why she had followed him. Worried about him. Always so caring, too caring. No one else understood that...

He had let her down. But he was not going to let her death be the end. No. She had risked everything to save him, died for him. He could not stay like this, could not stay mopping in his room, holed up like Rikki at the foot of Miss Danny's bed. He finished his shower, but now his movements had purpose. On his way back to the room he managed to catch a couple scrags, though he did not miss the one that got away. Proof he had lost his edge. He left the scrags for the vaisels, trying to ignore how they fell on the food ravenously and left his dirty clothing hanging to dry from when he had just worn them straight into the shower as filthy as they were. Now then, he had some training to do.

Meditation was a mistake. It had him focusing inward, and while he attempted to keep that to his body, tried to take inventory, smooth his Fear, return to a natural state, his mind drifted. The rabo sprang to mind easily, and it was all he could do to keep from breaking down again. But he also knew that if he left it like this the memories would be like a thorn in his side. It was best to examine them now, on his own terms.

Slowly he began to call up the memories that plagued him. Simple, blissful moments, yips, nudges, tails twining past his legs, talking to her on Alexander’s scraptop, the treats made for her by Miss Xiu-Ying and Lady Van Rotte, times when he stayed awake, talking to her softly, telling her about any problem that he had, any worries that troubled him. The way that if he felt bad she would look so very distressed and crawl her way into his lap whether or not he had made a space for her. How she looked at Miss Danny so adoringly. Her snubbing him if she was upset with him, though she always was quick to forgive him.

He was crying again, but it did not feel that bad for once. Thinking about the fact that he was crying for her made him cry harder, but he did not want to stop. He wanted to cry. She deserved any tear that he managed to shed for her, and there was no reason to feel any shame here in his own room. No, he had already broken down in front of Mot, there was no need to be self conscious now.

When he finally finished he got up and left to take a shower, cleaning the tears as well as the grime from his workout and the day. He was not going to be so foolish as to put a cap on his grief and say that he was done, but for now he had to move on as much as he could. For now though, sleep called. And after that, a long jog to loosen up, he could already tell by the way his muscles tried to seize up just in the walk back to his room that it would be a painful morning. But he would probably just work himself even harder until he got back on track. And he would get back on track.