Chapter Text
It's been years since she's settled anywhere for longer than a month. One day she thought she could live in relative peace, the next she learns her entire life was her preparing to become part of the Horde Gang. Adora doesn't care how good the pay is, she's not going anywhere by harming innocent people. Now she has a hit on her, and the only reason she's still alive now is because nobody knows for sure where she is. Even though she has to take odd jobs to keep food in her mouth, at least it's proven there's more to life than gangs and extorting innocent people.
Sure some people are rude, but not all of them, just like the blind girl she met who was nothing but a gem to be around. She has little hope for her future, so the least she could've done was offer to buy several wilting flowers before she reportedly disappeared. It ultimately matters little in the long run; there won't be a point worry about the young woman if she can't even protect herself. Each limping step after the other brings her closer to whatever her next destination may be, further from the gang hunting for her all because of secrets she might not even possess. What kind of discoveries are so important that putting her down is the best option available?
'No, don't think about it,' Adora scolds herself, doing her best to ignore the pain. 'Once they stop tracking you, you can finally move on. You just have to outlast them.'
Shambling her way across the coast, the salty steam from the crashing of waves oddly pleasant to her nose, she counts her remaining cash once more. Take away the five bucks she gave the girl, she only has $20.43, maybe more if she stumbles across anything worth selling. Empty cans have netted her a few cents, old clothes can be repurposed for herself, though stitching up her old jacket will require a lot of patience and practice she just can't give herself. She doesn't know how long it'll be before she can rest, only that moving guarantees survival. At least carrying a bag of her goods keeps her body from deteriorating further, her belly growling.
Days pass with her managing to only find a small fish and not even get a full belly. Years of living on the run have forced the former Horde member to adapt or starve to death, but it matters little if nothing to eat is anywhere to be found. Even safe berries to eat have been scarce, her pouch nearly empty even as she shambles her way toward the nearest stream. She can tell there’s plenty of food to be found, her body in desperate need of food even as she casts her “fishing pole” once more. Her water can is full from the most recent rainstorm, she just needs something to eat.
The world beyond this forest is loud and bustling yet filled with all sorts of people. Everything one could need is usually found in a shop, the last of her money used to purchase fish bait if nothing else. Part of her regrets not being able to stay for long, her tattered clothing standing out too much, and yet staying away might be safest for everyone. Fortunately not everything is bad, even if the food situation is harder to handle.
If there’s one good thing about living in nature, it’s that there’s usually nothing to get in her way. The Horde Gang takes longer to search the wooded areas and there’s chances to gather food without risking her life should she know where to look. Instruments are supplanted with birdsongs of all kinds, the gentle breeze and clear skies contrasting the roaring engines of cars and the lack of stars in the night sky. Each limping step after the other does her favor in keeping her alive, and all the same the land gives her reason to be alive. If she were to drop dead, she wouldn't understand why persisting will yield greater results. She doesn't need to worry about hurting others, nature's order is to the point, she fears nothing but whether she can or cannot get enough food or water. All the same, each day she survives, the few books she possesses can tell her what she needs to know in order to stay alive. It's not perfect, she wouldn't call the elements pleasant to push through, but it's more homely than anything she's felt before.
The former "soldier" can feel her legs ache with each step, refusing to stop even as her brain screams for her to do so. She hasn't found a secure spot to camp, pushing into the forest for a potential cave to sleep in or a tree to climb into. The grass is darker, wilder than the contained chaos the rest of nature possesses, and all the same she can't stop herself from pushing forward. She knows the gang will probably catch up to her in a few days, their resources greater than hers at her best and their bodies well fed. Nothing more than a few fish have gotten her anything close to sufficient energy, the young woman lightheaded as she shambles her way deeper into unknown territory. She needs to live otherwise everything she's done will be for nothing. This singular truth keeps her from stopping and dropping dead, only the occasional stretch preventing her drop as she hears an unfamiliar sound.
Grrrrrrr...
The birdsongs vanish completely, looking toward the stream to spot a drenched colossal feline with dark brown fur and even darker markings along its forelegs. The shape and color suggests the beast to be a panther, likely of the leopard variety, Adora confused why such a creature would be in North America of all places. She's heard no word of such a creature having broken out of a zoo or even being transported, shivering as she takes several steps back as a blue eye and yellow eye stare back at her. The shambling monster stalks forward with a limp in its target's direction, audible sniffs alerting the human she's being stalked for the food in her bag. A pained yowl comes from the beast's throat, falling to the ground beside the rushing water, its colossal form landing with a pronounced thud.
Adora's never seen such a beast before, trying to comprehend why a panther would have stripes, though more concerned about the beast's foreleg. She can only imagine it's been hunting for days only to turn out wounded, all the while emitting a low growl the entire time. The young woman has known for the longest time even a wounded animal can be deadly toward almost anything, all the more reason to approach with caution. She doesn't dare look away in case the beast is indeed hostile, at least double the size of the average panther; one bite is all it'll take to end her if she's lucky, though she can't help but notice the exhausted pants. Trying to give first aid is pointless, the beast seems quite aggressive, but if there's nothing she can truly do, then she can at least offer the little food she has left. The escapee reaches into her bag and pulls out the fish, keeping them within the panther's reach but not so far it gets motivated to hurt her.
"There. I can find more," she insists, slowly backing away.
The act of compassion seems to do something good, the beast reaching its good paw forward to drag the fresh food toward its face before biting down. Only with its attention off her does Adora make her way further into the forest, somewhere the panther won't want to travel once it's healed. The crunching of fish bones and swallowing of scales and fish innards leaves her with no disgust, just fortunate she doesn't have to risk her life or fight the panther.
Adora doesn't know how long it's been since she's traveled, the darkening sky above telling her it's been long enough. She needs somewhere safe to rest and soon or risk dropping dead from exhaustion if not hunger. What bothers her is how there's no birds chirping, not even crows to peck at any unfortunate prey. Even the wind itself seems to blow with less force. Something is wrong with the land, she knows it, but she doesn't know exactly how or why. Everything in her is only certain of one thing: finding safety and finding some food by morning.
'Don't worry about food. You can last a few more days,' she tells herself, wincing from the pain in her belly. '...C'mon, there's gotta be somewhere to sleep.'
Her body slowly fails her, each step slower than the last as the last of her energy wanes from the endless walking. No matter how strong she's become or how much stamina she possesses, it's only a matter of time before her body gives up and leaves her vulnerable. Even a cave will do, somewhere with only one opening and plenty of cover from within in case of an attack. Each uneven step forward is another step toward temporary security as she makes her way toward a thick grove of trees coated in claw marks big and small. The tired woman can see the panther's been here at least once before, but given she saw it hours ago, she believes it has another den somewhere else, the scratches appearing far older than she'd like. What bothers her are the smaller scratches, five thin, clean lines instead of the three or four massive, jagged streaks, just as old yet somehow just as deep into the bark.
'...No, don't think too hard about it,' she concludes, pushing her way forward. 'It's either whatever made them or the Horde, and you know which you'd rather pick.'
She doesn't dare imagine a more optimistic scenario, trudging forward in the hopes she can find something helpful. If the panther can find somewhere safe to rest during the night, it's only fair that she can find somewhere as well, assuming she doesn't intrude upon whatever the beast considers a den. The grass reaches nearly to her waist, concerning the survivor as she makes her way deeper into the grove as the sun sets lower on the horizon. She can't spot any footprints or routes, only the subtle clicking of her worn shoes atop stone indicating there's something around her. Her every bone aches from the constant strain she's putting herself through, but not once does she consider backing away now.
Adora’s efforts are at least partially rewarded by the sight of stone pillars coated in ivy, curiosity leading her deeper into the grove until she comes across a small stone building. Going off the size of the central structure and the thick walls surrounding it, she suspects the building to be a castle, the same claw marks as the trees littering almost every surface. No banners or symbols resemble anything she recalls, though she doesn’t remember anything like the structure existing in this part of the United States to begin with.
’Safe from attacks, plenty of places to camp in, and probably somewhere to store my gear,’ she reasons, hope starting to grow. ‘If the Horde doesn’t spot me, I… no. Can’t get my hopes up, I probably have to get moving. Maybe when they’re finally able to give up, but not right now.’
The traveler shoves her way inside, wincing from the pain in her legs as the heavy wooden doors emit a loud creak. Her vision blurs as she reaches into her bag and takes a long drink of water, dehydration only bound to worsen her condition in the long run. She doesn’t care what happens next so long as she’s safe, shoving the doors shut with the last of her strength before looking around her, mesmerized with what she finds.
’Okay, shelter secured. Now to… whoa,’ she notes, eyes lighting up with surprise. ‘I… think I hit the jackpot!’
The former Horde member's sure she came across either a treasure trove or another person's home. The walls are surprisingly smoothed gray granite, with the few marks visible being along the tops and bottoms of said walls, scratches indented as a sort of pattern. Above her she finds a series of tapestries and chandeliers, the former made from fine silk and the latter of silver and coated in various gemstones. The carpet beneath her looks surprisingly fluffy, made from a black fur-like substance that's comfortable to the touch, more of the same leading deeper into the structure. The walls house paintings with a similar building, suggesting she's indeed stumbled across a small castle, though not overgrown with foliage as it is now.
'Well that settles it. I might be able to... I dunno,' she tries to reason, finally taking a seat as she concludes, 'What now?'
All this time she's been searching for a way to get away from the Horde, and all of this potential loot would at least get them off her back. Now that she might have a means, she doesn't know what to do next, having only known running and trying to search for safety for years on end, everything else secondary. She could run with what little she can carry once she's rested, but by then the Horde Gang might catch up to her. She could try to make a final stand, but everything around her can be improvised as a weapon at best, the bronze pots at the entrance to the structure little more than a distraction; there's no proper weapons. Hiding deeper might give her more time, but for all she knows this place could be rigged with traps, thus explaining why it seems so well maintained. It's then a dreaded thought comes to mind, immediately searching for a place to hide despite her body screaming at her to finally rest.
'What's keeping this place so good?' she can't help but dread, trying to find a room to hide within. 'C'mon, there's gotta be-'
creeeeeak
Adora's eyes fling open as she looks back toward the doors, slowly opening to show the same panther from earlier, no longer in pain like before. It steps forward slowly, eyes narrowed as it sniffs the air and approaches the human with apparent aggression. The survivor knows she has no hope of getting away from the beast with such a dangerous beast mere meters away from her. All she can do is back away with the little knowledge she has and hope she can find a way out before it chooses to attack, only rather than hesitating to approach, the panther decides to stalk its prey with greater haste. Adora flinches and falls to the ground, her body choosing now of all times to finally give up, all the reason to close her eyes and dread the worst. She flinches feeling a cold snout press against her skin, no doubt still able to smell the fish residue from before. All she can do is slowly open her bag to reveal there's no food left, accepting if she's going to die, at least she knows where she stands.
What the young woman doesn't expect is for the beast to back up before its body starts morphing into a new shape. Massive front claws turn into hands with dagger-like nails, almost all of the beast's thick fur turning to skin of a tan hue, small stripes along its arms, the head of the beast turning humanoid with a thick "mane" of hair similar in appearance to its fur, only large cat-like ears and eyes indicating its previous form. Even its proportions slowly morph until she's almost entirely human in shape, complete with an outfit of dark gray leggings with a deep crimson shirt and shorts. She has little time to process where the clothing even came from before the "panther", apparently a feline woman, crouches down and gives a curious grin, tilting her head as she observes the human before her.
"Sorry about the scare, I just needed to be sure you weren't gonna try anything," she insists, her voice softening as she gets a closer look at the human before her. "...It looks like you went through hell. What happened to you? What are you doing all the way out here?"
Red boots with white stripes, gray jeans, a white inner shirt, a red outer jacket, and they all hang around the surprisingly tall human woman of about seven feet tall in all the wrong ways. The boots' soles lack any traction, the leg segments are coated in holes from various threats and foliage, the shirt's almost gray from age and brown from what looks like dried blood, and the jacket's graying from a lack of proper care to it. The woman's body looks somehow more mangled, each limb bent just enough in the wrong way to heal, but not properly to the point they're useless, more like she wasn't supposed to recover properly. Even her fingers seem bent and twisted from improper care, scratches and scrapes of many ages and kinds alongside bent fingers. Her skin's pale from a lack of proper nutrition, what appear to be aged bullet wounds jutting wherever she couldn't reach, the feline circling her prey to ensure there's nothing left unaccounted for. Adora winces from being observed so thoroughly before the feline notices the emblem on her jacket's back, marking who she was meant to work for from the beginning.
"Screw it, you're coming with me," the "panther" insists, picking the woman up with no visible effort. "We should get you patched up before you somehow get worse."
Adora can't force herself to even struggle, her every bone aching and straining just to stay awake. So much is going on with no clear source or answers aside from knowing she's somewhere dangerous, but the humanoid doesn't want to hurt her. It's the first time someone's been able to force her to get the help she needs, the fact she can't even move by herself preventing her from escaping properly.
"...Oh, and heads up, this is gonna hurt, a lot," the being warns, her voice filled not with malice but with remorse and compassion. "Don't worry, you're not gonna suffer alone, I promise."
All Adora can do is whimper in fear as she's carried deeper into the castle, unsure of what potential horrors are in store for her.