Let the ashes of your heart fire your genius,
Whose serenity smiles on your sorrows.
The Muse will soften your blessed sufferings.
One is great by love but greater by tears.
C'kayah watched the package containing the remnants of the Cat Tribe away - link pearl and flask, ring and sword. He felt surprisingly alive, the freedom that comes from losing everything running cold and clear in his veins. His mate, gone. His tribe, gone. Lolorito's assassins still combed Eorzea, while a sizable price on his head made hiding difficult. And now news of a new threat from a corrupt Flame. Last night he'd blamed the strain of these things for their breakup, but in the light of morning he recognized that this might simply be the shape of his relationships. S'aitei had ended the same way, and the common link was him.
No matter, he thought to himself. Lolorito's assassins were still out there, and nothing stood between he and they save his own wits. He checked his gear: his sword, bow and quiver, before turning and making his way out of Horizon into the Thanalan desert. He had no one to protect, now. It was time for the hunted to become the hunter.
