ooc: Secui form as always
When times were bleak and the sturdy ground beneath ones paws crumbled away to sand, there was a line to grasp; a metaphorical tether to stable ground to pull oneself back upon their feet and find comfort in walking once more.
Before coming to these lands, she found no need for such a line. She had but herself and the wisdom of her beloved father to bring her peace in the most desolate of times. She had wandered the Endless Path alone without regret, without sadness, without loneliness and found herself to be whole when she awoke in the early mornings and returned to sleep so late at night. Dare she confide to the ancestors that she was happy before her paws led her to these strange lands ruled by incentive and ambitions. For she had only herself and none but the path that guided her. And during these trying days, she scraped at the earth hoping to encapsulate that fleeting moment again, to find that genuine bliss that could be found within herself.
But the ground underpaw was always that of the mountain leading her toward the borders of danger. Toward the known and unknown, the treacherous and vile, and still like a moth to the flame she was lured to it with blind eyes and heavy feet. It reminded her of how she walked before but in the recesses of her mind she knew there was an end to this path, a destination marked with tawny scarred fur and a kindred soul that reflected her own. If she could look upon her mirror image within this realm of danger, she might find that bliss she desired to calm her restless spirit and make her truly see clearly again. For all that consumed her eyes now was the desolation of this place and not the wondrous beauty she had experienced along the flora and stone marked borders. Perhaps if she looked upon her mirror image, she would not feel the regret bubbling within her come to surface. Perhaps she would not admit to failure and return down the path she knew towards home.
The air of regality had fallen away rendering the creature that walked with a sullen gait humble and meek within the thinning verdant fields. Her lengthy stride was hindered by the limp of injury. The gash upon her shoulder had never been left alone to heal for as her body constantly moved and was taxed by the labors of duty, it grated and bleed, mended then reopened, spilling droplets of precious blood over again til her very scent was marred copper. It ached terribly, but was a sweet reminder of the ancestors mercy despite the pain it brought her. It reminded her that they still watched over her and in the midst of her personal plight were kind enough to grant her favor; the sight of her friend… the soft touch of his kindness. A reminder that despite his leaving, she had not truly been abandoned.
Along the slope of the mountain she came to rest at last, drawing her haggard form to the ground as she lifted her head and called for her reflection.