"She was here," Panna insisted with despair, swinging her head from side to side as she stared at the hollow amongst the crooked tree's roots. She could smell the fading scent of snake on the tip of her tongue, a memory both sweet and sad. Why the scent would be that of a snake she had no idea. Perhaps that was what she was now. Her dear, mutilated friend with whom she had not seen for so long. And yet, even as she despaired, a part of her wondered whether she was losing her mind. Following her instinct. Following the little voice in her head that had so reminded her of Rokopelli. But Panna had seen her die with her own eyes - and suffered wounds herself. She had seen the brutes tear at her wings until they were broken and twisted, catching in the wind. Her friend had left her, body and soul, and yet she had believed - somehow - that she could reunite with her.

That she was back.

"She was..."

Behind her she heard Merikh growl and turn away but, for once, she could not bring herself to care. Her slender neck drooped forwards until her nose touched against one of the tree's roots and for a long moment she was silent, listening for that little voice that had been calling her - a thin tendril carried on the wind.

It was gone. It had been gone for a day, at least, leaving her to desperately scan the area for her resting place.

Maybe she had been reborn, Panna thought for a moment. She had been a goddess, after all. A creature of magic. Maybe she had come back as another. As a snake? Maybe she was living a new life now, out there alone? Or maybe...maybe she had led them on a wild goose chase with nothing to show for it but an empty heart. She turned the theories over and over in her head until her heart ached and she reluctantly admitted that this had been a fool's errand.

And then Merikh returned (she had not noticed he had gone) and gave her a jab with a paw.

"Are you going to stay here and sulk forever? So we didn't find your friend. Make new ones. They're overrated anyway," he tossed a rat down onto the ground beside her but she found she had no appetite and turned away.

"You don't understand," Panna said softly, turning to look at him. He was looking more scruffy than usual and thinner, too, with a gaunt, wildness to his face that made him look dangerous. Certainly if she had not known him, she would be frightened of him at that moment - of the hunger creeping in at the edges of his eyes.

He hooked a claw into the rat, pulled it towards him and began to eat. She almost wanted to smile in fondness at such an act. He chewed with deliberate slowness, swallowed the morsal whole, thenlooked at her with his deadpan expression.

"No. I don't understand. I never will. But what are you going to do? I'm not sticking around here waiting for you to snap out of it. You can come with me or you can stay, but I'll be gone by the end of the day."

"I wish I could tell you about her."

"What's so hard about it? You put words together all the time."

Panna opened her mouth to reply but wasn't even sure how. What was she supposed to say? That her friend was a goddess? A dead goddess whose voice she had been hearing for weeks? It sounded ridiculous even to her and she doubted he even believed in deities, let alone would accept having one as a friend. Perhaps it was time to leave the past behind. To remember it with a sad fondness and move on with the memory to look back on when she wanted.

"When you leave, I will come with you. But where will we go?"

"Nowhere. And everwhere. Such is the life of a rogue."

"You intend to stay a rogue?"

"The other life didn't work out too well for me. I do better alone."

"With me along for the ride?"

He offered her a toothy smirk and a shrug, "I guess."

She smiled softly at that. Sadly, too. Panna was grateful for a friend, even one such as Merikh, and yet that hollow in her heart remained unfilled. She had been so certain. So sure that they would find her here and to be faced with nothing was a harsh slap of reality. Rokopelli was dead and, even if there had been some miracle and she had been reborn, what was to say she would even remember their time together? They had spoken of death once. Rokopelli had feared it as any mortal would. She would lose herself, she had said.

But she had called out to me, she thought desperately. If she is alive, there is a part of her who remembers me. Our connection remains, even if it is fragile.

She turned her sorrowful eyes back to the green-beige lion and was surprised to see a similar sorrow there - mirrored back at her. Her heart broke for him, too, hiding all his hurts beneath a mask of bravado. Panna saw it for what it was - though seeing it did not make it any easier. His secrets were his and she was beginning to think he would never share them.

"Tell me about her," he said, taking her by surprise.

"Truly?" she did not like how hopeful her voice sounded, afraid that he would bite back with some harsh, sarcastic response.

"Sure," he gave a shrug, stretched out his weakened hind leg across the ground and set his chin across a forearm.

Panna felt herself smile at that. It was progress with him, at least - the pretence of caring. Maybe if she shared a little with him it would open him up, too. Maybe he would begin to see her as a true friend. Someone who would be at his side and stand with him against the world. She would do it if he let her. But what could she tell him about Rokopelli without revealing too much? She had been a strange creature of strange habits. Young of heart, confused, chaotic, but ultimately good. Well, she'd tell as much as she could and leave out the part about her being a goddess. For now, at least.

"She lived her life in a confused daze most of the time..."

/fin