It was a glorious summer day when the kha’cheetrah started her journey, but the warm sun did nothing to touch her cold heart. The pale feline humanoid had just lost both her Munna & Patta. She suddenly found herself lost in the world. With no littermates, and no known relatives Sa’Ezelda had found herself terribly alone. The kha’cheetrah knew not what to do at first, but as she wandered alone, numb to the birdsong and warm life-giving sunlight, she realized she was headed to the kha homeland, the ruined Khalenwyr.
Her journey took months, but she barely remembered it. The lone cheetrah had traveled the many miles in a haze of mourning, hardly stopping to eat and sleep. When she arrived on the island she was just as battered as her soul. She was filthy, her clothes battered, every bone prominent under her dull pelt. She couldn’t tell you how she had found a wayfinder for her journey, or anything of her walk or ride. Her feet pads were torn open, swollen and infected, and her natural tear tracks had nasty red staining next to them where the broken creature had cried endlessly.
Somehow she managed to find herself in an uncollapsed temple before she fell. The young kha remembered flashes of her brethren caring for her, but no specifics as her feline body fought the infection and fatigue her mindless journey had bestowed upon her.
She awoke with a start in the late spring on the island the kha had once called home. The death of her parents still weighed on her, but she found the burden bearable and her mind clear. That same night she had a very vivid dream. A map of Arcus stretched before her, littered with the footprints of many kha. They appeared to travel from city to city together. The air grew heavy and filled with terrible racious laughter that sent a chill down Sa’Ezelda’s spine and made her feel as tiny as a newborn cub. The map of Arcus was washed away in blood. The cheetrah choked on the smell of it as it flooded her dream. The only thing left behind, as she awoke - terrified - was the footprints, marching from what used to be city to city. She could still taste the blood at the back of her throat for hours after she awoke, and she knew the dream would haunt her for a long time.
Not long after the news of the Moon Goddess’ death was uncovered. Again the poor kha found herself shaken to the very core, but this time she found she had the strength and resilience to sort of cope with it. She mourned with her brethren their creators demise, and her heart was heavy with the death of her revered Metztli, but her mind stayed clear and she found purpose in the dream that still made her skin crawl.
Sa’Ezelda prepared for her great journey. She hunted prey for their hide, drying the skin into leathers that she stitched together with confident hands. Her work was solemn, even things she normally took great joy in, like fitting the leather to her frame or blowing the glass beads. When the kha’cheetrah was finished she stood clad in brightly decorated leathers. The glass beads were small and stitched tightly to her armor. It was teal, purple, and hunter’s green - Sa’Ezelda’s favorite colors. She wore the upturned trident over her heart in solemn memory of her moon mother but the rest of her garment bore symbols all her own. There was a pack on her slender back, heavy with the things she’d need for a long journey. Her departure from Khalenwyr was bittersweet. The beautiful island, flourishing with unique fauna and flora called to her heart as she walked away. It had been a home unlike and she had ever known, a refuge as she fell apart and pieced herself back together. But the kha’cheetrah did not look back with her dark green eyes. She was confident she needed to journey to Arcus at any cost, and that’s exactly what she did.
