Sochi keeps her eyes trained on the young girl, watching her with an inquisitive tilt of her head, her ears flicking forward for the most part but every so often rotating. A habit of spending so much of her time in the form of a predator, as well as aa habit learned in her years of protecting a kingdom. Not hers, she has come to realize, and a bitterness floods her mouth as she realizes how much of her effort had gone into protecting a legacy that was not her own—protecting a crown that did nothing for her.
She rolls a shoulder, determined to get rid of the wash of upset from her mouth, and only looks away from the young girl when another scent arrives on the wind. Her dark head turns toward the side where the wolf comes from and she feels a tightening in her belly—excitement, recognition, and anticipation roiling around until she feels the tigress chomp at the back of her mind. She shifts without thinking, once again wearing the body of her feline self, and moves forward toward the wolf intentionally.
“Daye,” she murmurs the name and rubs her head against the other.
It had been years since she had seen the mare. Years since Daye had taken her on her first hunt—shown her that it was okay to embrace the predator. Years since she stumbled to Daye in a haze after her brush with Carnage and the mare had helped her through the trauma. There’s so much to say and Sochi finds that she doesn’t have the words to say them. So, instead, she gives her that feline grin, tail twitching.
After a moment she turns her attention back to Mazikeen. Her sharp gaze slides to the wolfish tail behind her. “We live,” she answers, her voice quiet but the words sure of themselves. “We find others who are interested in living differently—who long for a life outside of the political weight of the kingdoms—and we build a pack.” There is something like amusement at the corner of her mouth as she nods to the tail.
“And you show us what you can really do with that gift of yours.”
she said a war ain't a war before both sides bleed
@[Dayé]