Trigger warning: suicide



There wasn't any use reliving the past, she thought. Remembering, remembering, remembering, a neverending spiral. It was like the rain water down the cliffside--no real direction, just rapid, trickling in many streams, landing and swirling together before flowing apart like lightning. But she couldn't stop. It was all well and good to tell oneself not to do something, but to actually do it was another matter entirely. There was no way for her to command herself, no way for her to convince herself of her own fortune. She was cursed with being able to give everyone else the best advice, but never her own self. Clotho stared up at the rain, letting it saturate her, soak into every single hair in her coat, her skin, her eyes, her mouth, between her toes.

She was tired.

Durion was tired, too. At the same time Clotho was staring at the dark gray sky, Durion was trekking through the jungle at a joke of a pace. The rain didn't help much. He'd curse now and then under his breath, swat at a random vine, slip on a fern, scare the s**t out of a frog. But things were beginning to look familiar. He was getting closer. He was sick to his stomach and sick to his head and sick to his heart, but he was getting closer. This was his choice. He wanted to seek her out again. He was different. He'd changed. He'd changed...

Clotho was also changed, but not much for the better. It had done her good to help different creatures in need--creatures who had come to her to have their fortunes told (although Clotho wasn't a true seer, regardless of what she believed). But try as she might, she couldn't fill the unmistakable void her cubs had left behind. She knew she'd left them in the best paws--a safe place, a sanctuary...it had been her own choice, and it had been for the best. She didn't regret it, and yet...she wasn't whole. It had been a slow realization, and an even slower acceptance. Thunder rumbled long and low as Clotho closed her eyes and sighed, droplets of water spraying from her breath.

Durion was blind to the lightning overhead--the jungle canopy was far too thick to allow its light in. But he heard the thunder, heard the rain thicken and pour down more heavily than ever. The lush trees shaded him from being entirely soaked, but he was pretty damn close. He was cold and hot at the same time. He was anxious. It was stupid, pathetic even. He didn't deserve to face her. But he wanted to try. It was selfish, he knew. But no, it wasn't just for him. It wasn't entirely selfish. He wanted to try and make things right for her sake, too. Wanted to apologize...wanted to give her something, anything, any type of...closure. No, vindication. Satisfaction. Justice. Revenge...if she wanted to kill him, he'd let her. But to at least let her know he was sorry, to at least...say something, though he didn't deserve to. But he had changed. If she was a seer, she could see it. If she could see through him, see his past, see in his head, she could see it. She could. She had to. He pressed on through the flora.

The rain poured harder still. Clotho's paws carried her slowly and softly to the edge of the cliffs. She could barely feel the ground. It was like walking on air--no, like walking on rain. A smile almost crossed her face. Her eyes remained close and she let her claws feel nothingness while her pads remained grounded. The alcove had such a sheer cliff, and such a lovely little waterfall. It would've been a picturesque place to raise a family. To have a family. To have someone to...
The visage of a sharp blue gaze and a black mane passed so strongly before her mind's eye that Clotho opened her earthly ones with a gasp. She stared breathlessly at the sky, watching the heavy sheets of rain come down, watching the drops seem to grow bigger as they neared her face. She didn't understand herself. She should hate him, and yet...such a feeling of fear and despair mixed with longing. Confusion. She had never been in love. She should hate him, and yet...she could not deny she wanted to see him again. Just once. Perhaps he'd changed?

Perhaps she was a fool...

The Undergrove, the leopardess had called it. Durion remembered. He remembered everything. And when he did, he felt shame. He kept reliving it, kept cursing himself, criticizing himself, hating himself. He'd never regretted anything he'd done before as much as this. He'd hurt her. Attacked her. Attacked her. There was no excuse, no valid reason. He was just sorry. It wasn't enough. He was no fool. He knew it wouldn't be enough. But something might, something, anything, he just had to offer. He had to tell her. Had to try...
Dark gray sky revealed itself in patches and stripes as the canopy thinned and the trees spread out like open paws. Durion's heart hammered in his chest and head. He felt like crying, felt like dying. Maybe it was a mistake. Everything was a mistake. He was a mistake. Everything...

Clotho inched herself closer to the cliff's edge, closing her eyes once more. She saw tiny faces, heard tiny mewls. Were they loved? No, she knew that they were loved. The question was, did they know that she loved them? She shuddered with a sob as the answer crashed over her with a crack of thunder. She did not understand why it had all gone so wrong...but did it have to stay wrong? No...it didn't. It didn't...she could change. She could change things around. Her cubs...she could find them. They'd be grown now, but she could go back. She could seek them out. Someone would know where they'd gone, someone...she could find someone to help. She had always tried to help others, surely someone else could help her. She trusted in the good of others, of the world. There was good even in bad people. Even in him...she could not deny she wanted to see him again. Just once more. It was the feeling of wanting to ask someone a question without knowing what one wanted to ask. But it was enough to keep her there, she realized. She still had something to do. It was enough to keep her...

Clotho's eyelids parted and she was faced with the gaping jaw of the precipice below. Her head spun once, but she was careful to take an even, slow step backwards. She turned from the cliff's edge, turned towards life. As she did, she saw something through the trees...something very dark against the already dark shadows. She blinked the rain from her eyes rapidly, willing herself to make out what it was. And then she saw. And then she knew. It was him. A strange emotion filled her chest and spread throughout her body, giving her a sense of warmth amidst the freezing rain. She blinked both water and tears from her eyes. But the water was thick. The rain was heavy and unrelenting. It slid under her paws in cruel waves, soaked into the shallow edges of the cliffside and made them buckle. The water made her slip, and her weight made the cowering cliffside buckle even more. It was too much for it to bear. It gave way, and as it did, so did Clotho's back paws. She slipped back and down, reaching up desperately with her claws to anchor herself somehow. She succeeded in latching onto the edge, but it was weak. It was giving way. It wouldn't last.

Durion broke through the trees and found himself in what he knew to be The Undergrove. It was unchanged. She had been there, he knew. He could tell she still resided there. Her things were--but then he saw.

Lips parting from shock, Durion saw her hanging from the cliff. Their eyes met. She was only a few bounds away. He could get to her. Her claws dug deeper into the muddy earth, her clenched teeth a flash of white in the gray rain that pelted her. Her expression was panicked, desperate, sad, happy. Durion ran. He ran as hard and as fast as he ever had in his life. He leapt for the edge, sliding toward it with paws outstretched to latch onto her forelimbs, to reach her, grab her, grab her, as his paws grazed the air in front of her reaching claws, unhinged, floating in the air, she was falling. Falling.




Falling.






He was too late.






Time passed. But there was no time. Durion didn't feel it. He lay atop the cliff in the same position, staring below, barely able to see from the mist and the rain, barely able to see...but he could see...

He stared.

She was there. She was down there. He'd found her, seen her again. She was there...

He stared.

Changing hadn't been enough. He hadn't been enough. She didn't hate him, he could see. But he was too late. It wasn't enough. He wasn't enough. It hadn't been enough.

He didn't make it...

He stared.

Sounds left his ears. Sights left his eyes, save for the blur beneath the clouds of mist beneath the cliff. He felt nothing, numb to the rain, numb to cold, numb.

He edged closer, an inch at first, then another. And then it was easy.



He fell toward her.