All her life she had only known one way of doing things – listening and obeying, holding her tongue when she really wanted to scream. Oh how she hated her captors, how she wished that she had a demon hidden deep inside, someone who would come out and give her strength. Sadly, all she had inside was frustration, bubbling close to the surface and eating away at her slowly. Her life was constant anger, constant depression, and a consistent fear that she would die this way. She could yell all she wanted to inside, but those words had no effect on those to whom they were directed. Instead, all they seemed to do was hurt her. Her whole life an anger had bubbled beneath the surface, never quite overflowing, but keeping her whole. Her life had come to a single moment, a single opportunity.
There was discord in the ranks of the demons. Something was unsettled, something was…different. They weren’t who they were.
It gave the cheeton an opportunity - a defining moment. Freedom.
She hesitated at the edge of the pride, staring into the lands around them. It was…terrifying, and invigorating. In the back of her mind she knew that a demon could come after her, drag her back or kill her, but the difference amongst the demons gave her hope. Perhaps…perhaps this could be for real. Perhaps this could be for good.
Once the cheeton started to run, her cheetah heritage began to shine through. Suddenly it wasn’t just about running away, it was simply about running. She didn’t stop for hours, her muscles aching but fearing that someone was close behind her. The shadows flickered in shapes, demons chasing her and monsters out to get her.
Ilterendi had always slept peacefully in the pride, content in knowing that even if she died, at least she would be free from them. The first night in the rogue lands, Ilterendi was terrified. The air was fresher, the stars were brighter and every noise was too loud; for once there was something to lose.
When the sun rose the next morning, she wondered if she had slept a wink, but, muscles stinging and limbs heavy, she rose to her paws. Her pace was slower, but just as determined. Miles stretched between her and those she’d left, but the distance was not far enough.
By noon, she was stumbling, barely upright and fading fast. Her mouth was dry and her eyes blinked every few seconds, trying to clear the dust from them. Her scraggily form was littered with dust and debris.
“Miss, are you alright?” A voice called her, and she leapt, her strength leaving her and she collapsed into a shaking mess. Her eyes were wide as they glanced towards the noise. I knew it, she screamed to herself. You absolute FOOL! Why did you think you could be free! The figure who had spoken appeared like a mirage in front of her. Pale. White. Almost blinding in the light.
The figure would have been a slave, had they been amongst the demons, and that calmed her nerves. She could take on a slave – she could hold her own, after all. If she couldn’t, she would have been long since dead.
The creature before he was not a lion though, and it took her a moment to place his species. He was not like her. He was not even half of her. He must have been a leopard, or a leopard hybrid. That soothed her frail nerves more.
“Leave me alone,” she snapped, her voice barely more than a croak. She was being stupid, she knew, running herself this ragged but she was not thinking right now. She was escaping.
The male did not make any moves towards her, perhaps realising that she would not react well to any sudden movements. “You are near death,” he spoke again, his voice low and soothing, eyes sympathetic. He was probably lying, biding his time to attack.
“You will be soon if you come near me,” she growled, her eyes narrowed though she feared that her vision was starting to double. No, no, just wait until he left, she begged herself. Just hold on.
“Then I will not come near you,” he said calmly. He moved backwards instead, stepping away from her. “I do not mean to scare you.”
“You do not scare me,” she laughed, and it was a bitter, jaded sound. It was true. She had seen far worse than this pale creature before her. She had seen so much worse. “Nothing scares me now.”
The male looked concerned, his brow furrowing and his eyes darting over her figure. “Everyone is afraid of something,” he said simply. “Are you thirsty?”
The change of subject threw Ilterendi and it took a moment for her mind to focus on the new topic. “No.”
“You sound hoarse,” he prompted. “You must be dehydrated. If I brought you a gourd, would you drink from it?”
“And let you poison me?” She laughed, the sound still as bitter. “No.”
He frowned, obviously concerned that that was where her mind went. “What if I escorted you to the watering hole?” He tried again. “Keeping my distance, of course,” he added quickly.
She thought of denying him again, but, really, what was the worse he could do to her? Take her further off course? She had no plan in mind. There was no one to miss her, no place to be, and her throat was beginning to ache. “Fine,” she rasped. She watched him suspiciously as he smiled and motioned for her to follow him.
She would be loathed to admit it, but he kept his word. Moving slowly, deliberate actions so she could watch him at every step, he walked in front of her, occasionally glancing back to check that she was still following. His pace was slow as well, allowing her to keep up and not fall too far behind, but never allowing her to catch up past the point that she was comfortable. He was good at this, it was almost like he was used to dealing with fearful people.
The watering hole appeared before them, and the male moved aside, stepping back and turning his glance away as she stumbled towards the water. She waded into the water until it reached her stomach and simply stood there, before lapping furiously at the water until she was swollen with water. Her stomach rumbled, protesting the lack of food, but relishing in the water.
The sun continued to beat down on her, but in that moment, she simply relished in the moment. There was nothing but the stranger behind her and the water surrounding her. Freedom.
(WC: 1119)