Take What You Want

The only reason she'd come this far was because Rhythm was in Abaven now, all the way on the other side of the continent, and she'd intended to go check on her so she could let her brothers know how the woman who'd raised them was settling in. She herself had always had a hard time feeling attached to Rhythm for whatever reason - she hadn't disliked Rhythm, not at all, but she'd just been... detached, only tolerating affection rather than returning it like her brothers had, and had never really sought out Rhythm's attention. She suspected that because of Torrent's indifference Rhythm felt almost as little connection with her as she did with Rhythm, and Torrent felt... not precisely guilty, but like she should try harder to pretend for Rhythm's sake. She'd known Rhythm wasn't their actual mother and had simply never been able to get over that hurdle to show the woman affection - but she did love her brothers, and Rhythm deserved her dutiful loyalty for the year she'd spent raising them when she clearly hadn't needed to if she hadn't wanted.

So she'd taken it on herself to trek over to Abaven since Rhythm was clearly not going to be making it herself anytime soon - or ever again, honestly. She'd spend some time chatting with Rhythm, pretending to feel what her brothers actually felt to give the old woman comfort, give her all the news of Legion, make sure she was doing well, and return home carrying whatever messages and well-wishes Rhythm wanted passed on.

But when she saw the sullen glow of the distant volcano, an uncharacteristic panic had gripped her and she could go no further. She raged at her own cowardice and gritting her teeth until her gums ached and she could taste iron blood where she'd bitten her tongue, but she could do no more than pace back and forth with her eyes fixed below the horizon. Asriel sat at the edge of the ashy river with his blue eyes fixed on her in concern, but said nothing. Returning to the lands he'd last walked the night his best friend had died was as painful for the snow leopard as it was for her, though he'd not been as young as her so the scars it left were not so metamorphic as they were for the pup she had been.

Her own inability to move past that moment infuriated her. It was cowardice and weakness of character. A stronger wolf would have the resilience to just get over it instead of using a past trauma as an excuse not to go forward. It was a lack of self-control and she hated herself for it in this moment. Just keep going east. Or southeast if she had to. Not pacing in a north-south line because she couldn't make herself take one more fucking step towards that volcano, and those memories. Disgust, shame, and fury roiled in her stomach and dragged from her throat a guttural snarl of pure frustration.