Saving Kitty | OLD | ✔

Forty | Emotionless

U N E D I T E D

"You broke your children for life,

It's not okay, but we're alright."

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Her eyes watered, as smoke filled her nostrils. It burned. But she ignored the stinging in her eyes. Ignored the vile smell lingering in the air. Sniffling, she wrapped her coat tighter round her body. The wind was picking up horribly. However, it helped the fire blaze brighter.

"Kitty," she jumped in her spot. The guy smiled sheepishly at her, "where did you want the skin?"

"In the Trophy Room," she fingered the key hanging down from her neck. Quickly, she yanked on it, breaking the fine chain. She held it out for the male to take, "lock it back up when you're done."

He nodded, scampering off. She let out a little sigh, ignoring the white smoke puffing out from her lips. Instead, she focused back on the burning pyre. A Flowers tradition: burn the deceased, and hang up their skins. Gramps' was hung in the decerpendo. It was his favourite event of the year.

Nathan had banned that room. Would have burned it down, had Gramps' skin come off. It also may have set the rest of the pack house on fire. So he'd banned it; boarded it up. The Culling, was no more. The Flowers pack, after centuries, had finally abandoned the cruel ritual. Brandon and the two others her father had imprisoned for it, had been released.

They'd decided to lock the Trophy Room away. Half of the belongings couldn't be returned – they couldn't figure out which pack they came from. So, they'd gone for the next best thing: use it as a sort of memorial. She'd put her father's skin in there, and lock him away with his trophies. It's what he would have wanted regardless.

Most of those who had attended her father's funeral had left; leaving her alone with the burning pyre. It was usually the family of the deceased who would stay until the fire had fully burned out. Nathan had shortly left after giving a speech. Even if he didn't have so much to re-organise, to sort out, he wouldn't have stayed. He was too angry with his father.

Sitting on the damp ground, she picked up the blanket. It was thin, but paired with her coat she wasn't too cold.

"He doesn't deserve this, you know?" Turning her head stiffly, she gave a small smile to her brother. She gave him a shrug.

"He was still our father."

"He drugged you. Raped a child just so that he could have an heir to the throne. He's done so much to innocent people over the past–,"

"I didn't say he was a good person," she faced the fire again. She wanted to hate her dad, she truly did. But she just couldn't – maybe one day his actions would really sink in. In all honesty, she was trying to block out the last couple of weeks. It had been the worst time of her life. Kitty let a small sigh slip past her lips, "Have they found them yet?"

"They caught a scent trail somewhere north. Trackers are hunting them down."

"North?" Nathan nodded, "Aren't there more human settlements to the north?"

"They're everywhere," Nathan shrugged. Kitty let out a small, soft huff. Caleb and those who were completely loyal to her father had run off as soon as his heart had given up. The Triad had offered an extraordinarily generous reward for those who handed in a traitor. Preferably they wanted them alive however they weren't adverse to the idea of the traitors being dragged in dead.

"Do you reckon Caleb will try and come back?"

Kitty turned to see Nathan shaking his head, "I doubt it. Everyone's on high alert and without Dad..."