[Sincate]

Traversing lands so strange was not easy, and Sincate wondered how much time had passed since they snuck through the undergrowth of Saboro. The stench of the jungle was far from them now, the giant volcano a dot in the distance as the ocean breeze fluttered through their fur. Nose had never smelled the sting of salt nor had they ever experienced a biome that wasn’t anything other than humid and damp. The cold that swept past the mountains and into the valleys had felt surreal. Thick fur around their neck keeping them warm through the odd days of travel.

The sky had gathered clouds above, looking ominous and dark as they slowly crawled by. Sincate could almost taste the moisture, wondering if rain would drip down at any moment. They were annoyed that they would need to find some kind of shelter, an instinct screaming that moisture with cold was not a healthy combination, but as they searched the terrain for a nice hole to settle into, something caught their eye.

A white flake fluttered down, landing on the ground to dissolve into the dirt. Sincate moved their head up to watch as thousands of these flakes came down in droves. For the longest time, the Fledgling did not move, they watched as the landscape transformed. When they decided to finally move, they shook the snow from their pelt and padded forward, feeling the crunch of each step. Snow had never been within Sincate’s vocabulary, let alone seeing the substance before — the cold was confusing.

Their paws weren’t the only to crunch against the white substance, and once they realized they weren’t alone, Sincate snarled, turning to face whoever was behind. A figure they never expected to see, nor prepared to. The yearling wasn’t sure how to feel, what to feel other than anger and hatred. “You.” they growled, tongue gliding over teeth. “And where the fuck were you when we needed you.”

You abandoned us.

✦ ✦ Speech Text ✦ ✦

[Oriana]

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Seasons changed, days progressed and time continued. The period away from Saboro was no longer an excuse to find her lost son, but to find purpose in even returning. It had been too long now, the bloodthirsty veins of the crown had either snapped in places or withered away, the new-found cold hardened their core and make it easy for them to crack into shards of nothing. For the first time in a long time, Oriana had felt a certain sense of.. freedom. But she had been skeptical, just as likely as any Saboran who managed to survive this long away from the motherland, away from the Volcano. Eyes over their shoulders and ears listening for anything.

Freedom came at the price of paranoia, and leaving bridges in tact meant angry pitchforks could follow. Oriana’s hope was the farther she got the less likely they’d find her, even along her battered pathways and weakened safeguard. Who would spend the time finding a lost Queen when they could simply create anew? But ah, silly girl, leaving margins in your protection meant error, and there was always a fragment of a past finding it's way to cut you again and again.

She heard the crunch before the voice— one that tightened at her heart and her relaxed freedom nearly caged itself back where it’d come from.

“You. And where the fuck were you when we needed you.”

Oriana shifted herself to a position of less vulnerability, pivoting herself toward her aggressive child’s stance as they stood in clear rage before her. The now ex-Queen looked beyond, eyes searching past just as she would any other to see if they’d come with red ropes soaked in blood to drag her back to hell. Saboro never traveled alone, they were far too weak to be alone. Did Sincate come in the name of Saboro, or in the name of another lost child that wanted to tell her how awful she was.

Sincate was a mystery, one that Oriana gave room to explode in on itself for the sake of solving the puzzle. She stood there in silence, waiting to see if Sincate would continue their rampage with words or teeth, both of which Oriana was prepared to handle.

Before this, though, she offered: “Who needed me?” You? Saboro? Oriana had a hard time believing any of it. They only needed her to use her.

Then, she’d wait. It could’ve been seconds, minutes, whoever long the two could stand with a few feet of distance before one progressed their meeting. Oriana didn’t move, didn’t flinch; perhaps didn’t even express her own array of emotions for seeing their child angry and lost, hurt and spiteful. She would no longer show her cards before she knew what the stakes were.

What did Saboro do to you while I was gone, child?

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