She was tired.

"—riya"

Oh so tired...

"Mari—"

Everything was a blur...

Love.

Anger.

Resentment.

Mother... why?

"...Mariya!"

All she wanted was to be hap—

"—Mariya!"

"W-Wha?!"

Mariya woke up from the bad dream.

"Mariya. Explain what the hell is going on," Sima's bruised and bloodied face filled her cloudy vision, shocking her to her core.

"S-Sima?! A-Are you—"

But he didn't seem to care about her worry. His stare just lingered, trained onto her own, "Don't worry about my face; worry about the fact that they're going to be putting Malkov and Sans into a murder pit for shits and giggles,"

She woke up. Only to be put back into a nightmare...

"W-What?! I-I-I don't get what you're saying," Her eyes shifted around the room in confusion. By the looks of it, they were trapped inside a warehouse tent: bedrolls, crates of food and water, swords, bows, arrows and the occasional saddle packed the entirety of the space, leaving the two human occupants with little breathing room.

Sima was almost unrecognizable with the swathes of blood caked on his face, "Do you remember the last few hours ago?" And his voice more so: it was cheery and vibrant before, but now it just sounded cracked and dry, like he hadn't had a single drop of water in days.

"N-No..." Mariya strained herself to recall what had happened, but it either evaded her as a whole, or she could only evoke figments of her memories. With a defeated sigh, she stopped and gave up.

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There was a resounding quiet after that, but she knew it wasn't by choice. Going past the fact that they had nothing to say, Sima's throat was definitely damaged while she couldn't remember anything important to save her life.

So they just sat there, tied to wooden stakes impaled deep into the sand as they awaited their fates ahead...

What would you do... Connor?

"...He'd tell you to woman up and stay strong," She recoiled in the realization that she spoke out loud and shifted her head up to stare at him in perplexion.

Despite how terrible his voice sounded, he pushed on, "You were never the type to give up this early, didn't seem like the person to me; so where's all that gusto gone, hm?"

She pursed her lips but didn't answer.

"You were always fiery and stubborn; where's that woman gone, huh?!" He snarled the last part out, and his previously shadowed eyes revealed themselves to her; their focus so intrinsically honed in it almost hurt to look at.

She's not gone! She's still here! Mariya screamed in her mind, but couldn't bring herself to say it out loud.

"Nothing?" He hacked and gasped tiredly, flecks of blood flying out of his mouth, yet he still had the energy to smile, "Not a word to say? You can't even deny it?"

'No... No... No... No...'

He heaved, the pain clearly getting to him now, but that didn't stop him squeezing one final painful jab:

"I was wrong then. You don't deserve Connor. If you don't even have the gall to get up and fight for Malkov, you don't deserve to stand by his side when he has to face a god. He doesn't need worthless trash like you dragging him down..."

'No... No... No! No! No! No!'

"You should just kill yourself so he doesn't have to worry. That's what you wanted to do back then, isn't it?!"

That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

"No! No! No!!"

Mariya was visibly shaking, but it wasn't out of fear or grief. No...

"RAAAAAAAGHH!!"

The world turned red, and all she could think of was beating the living shit out of one person.

-Snap!-

Like brittle twigs, her binds were easily overcome and ripped from the force of her struggles, giving her faculties free reign to get used to their new state. Mariya took a brief moment to examine herself: she could feel an extra joint or two on her legs, and her fingers didn't feel like fingers anymore, from the looks of it, they were sharp claws meant for one thing. Slicing.

Then there was the odd wolf-shaped crest on the back of her hands, but with her rage-addled mind still in control, further scrutiny would have to wait as she shifted her gaze to stare at the now standing Sima.

The man still looked like crap, but with the way he stretched out so carelessly, you wouldn't be blamed for thinking he wasn't that worse for wear...

Noticing her gaze on him, he turned to address her, "Yo. Sorry about what I said, I just wanted to—"

-Bang!-

Mariya didn't really want to hear anymore bullshit coming out of his mouth, so she did what all angry people do: punch them so hard they fly out of the other side of fifteen crates in a split second.

"Fuck. You... Too," With the last vestiges of her consciousness, she barked out the vulgar parting words before leaping away to her next target for elimination: her mother...