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[color=silver][right][sub]mentions: some ppl but only briefly so no tags, just catchin' up to y'all[/sub][/right]
As was her lot, she watched. 

She did not remember who had taught her to watch, exactly. A parent? Of sorts, anyhow, that much she knew. A mother. [i]The Mother[/i], though she could not picture her face now, could not recall if she ever had. 

She could not picture herself, either, but that seemed to matter little. She was aware of her body enough to move it, to press a soundless paw upon the soil, to carry the mass that was her body forth, shaky at first, and then gradually less so. She felt, vaguely, as though something was missing — a step she ought to have taken, yet could not. The rhythm of her stride felt different, and the weight of her body wrong. She was lighter now, and yet she was not; less weight, perhaps, but so too less strength. 

The more her focus shifted to what was and what should have been, the more uncertain her steps became. She feared, for a moment, that she might fall, but she did not. She never had. [i]They[/i] had always fallen first.

She adapted. 

Soon, she was a silent shape in the shadows, skulking just beyond the veil of dust and smoke, always gone by the time anyone turned their head. The two battered humoids with their sharp sticks and suspicious glances had been none the wiser of her presence, even as she'd passed them by; even as she'd measured the distance to their throats. A habit, an instinct.

She had not pounced.

When the others had awoken, a mostly humoid lot, though peculiarly so, some missing bits and pieces, some carrying too many, she had likewise remained a watcher. She had watched them do what humoids did: asking, pondering, exploring, stealing even from the dead when they thought it suited them, their curiosity a bane and a boon both. 

She had realized, then, as she'd watched, that she'd also listened. It should not have felt so strange, listening, when her ears were so sharp and the world so full of sound, the crackling of embers a constant in the background, yet it did. The sounds the humoids made were curious, conveying so much, and yet so little. Less and more, somehow, than the snarl of a beast or the song of a bird. She was used to hearing intent; warnings, invitations, threats and appeasements, short and clear, a matter of life and death.

Though she understood what she heard, could connect each individual sound to a concept, an idea, an abstract thing she had not known existed or could be conveyed so with sound at all, she still found herself unsure of the humoids' intent. So did they, it seemed, with all their questions and quarreling.

When the Shaman — a word that might have carried meaning to some, yet not to her — had arrived, she had focused on observing it most of all; even when the Large Scaled One had appeared and disappeared, even when weapons were raised and magic spun and strange offers flung about, she had not taken her eyes off the old humoid, for one could only be old if they were of note. Mother was the oldest, and she was the most of note. 

She wanted to get closer — yet before she could hazard a step, a humoid took wing somewhere a little distance away, and she nearly pounced. Something in her stirred, spilling from one side of her chest to the other, heavy. Claws out and eyes aglow, she watched, aghast, as the Winged One soared where birds alone could go. 

The heavens screeched, and upon its return, the Winged One brought fire. It rained from the sky, and that something in her stirred once more, ran along her back, inside her spine. 

[color=gold]“An enemy is on its way. Decide now: run, hide, or prepare yourselves.”[/color]

She could run, but only to chase. She could hide, but only to stalk. And so, she prepared herself, prowled forth, trying to keep a watchful eye over all; the fire, the Old One one with its magic, the humoids, one of whom consumed fire, and then — at last, someone of Nature. One who Spins Web, scurrying about. She followed it with her eyes, noted where she was and where she would go, then turned her gaze back towards the sky. Soon, she thought, something would descend upon them.

Until then, she watched.[/color]