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THERE ARE NO WINNERS WITH REVENGE
"the action of harming someone in return for a wrong suffered at their hands"

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         "Would you like to hear a story," Cyril, a village elder, wondered to the snow leopard cub who raced to keep up with him, reaching a hand out to her so she could latch onto it. Instead of receiving a verbal response, Cyril was met with eyes wide and full of wonder. "Of a warrior named Sa'tari?"

A soft gasp escaped the small leopard's lips as she came to a sudden stop, dragging Cyril back with her. An amused smile began to tug at his lips as he turned to stare down at the cub, excitement and confusion flickering across her face. "But that's my name?"

"That's right," Cyril agreed, bemused at the cub's reaction before he was bending at the knee to scoop her up into his arms and continue their short walk to the edge of the village. Sa'tari put up no fight, too stunned to do so as she waited for him to continue the story. "You, my little Sa'tari, will be this village's last hope when the time comes."

"Does that mean I'm going to be a warrior like Papa?" Sa'tari whispered as if the idea of it was too good to be true.

"Of course, it does," Cyril said as they finally broke away from the village and wandered on a trail through the snow and thick forest-covered mountains, continuing until they reached what seemed to be an old, overgrown temple. "But that's many, long years away."

"But I want to be a warrior now," Sa'tari whined, one of her paws digging into Cyril's shoulder as her claws made contact, the cub not yet used to controlling the pointed weapons.

"Patience, child," Cyril warned with a chuckle, used to seeing such enthusiasm. His words didn't do anything to quam Sa'tari's excitement though, not as she rocked out of his hold and raced towards the temple, as if crashing through its walls would make her the warrior she was destined to be. A sombre expression passed over his features as he watched her go. "Let's not rush the inevitable."

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙