Shouldn't Come Back

She wasn’t sure when the murky darkness lifted slowly from around her, but when it did, she froze.  She knew why this scene was so heartbreakingly familiar.  The dusty, orange rocks sprawling out around her, the shadow that flitted over the ledge, even the ring lying a few tail-lengths away…they all filled her with a sickly sense of dread.  Palette knew how this would end; she always did.  But it never stopped her from trying.

”I’ve got you!” she cried out, lashing her claws into the floundering forepaws of the charcoal guard.  For a moment, terrified azure eyes met hers, and Palette felt hope flutter in her belly as it did every time.  I can save her.  I can.  I just have to-  Suddenly she shrieked as her claws slipped, tearing at Wanda’s fur as she tumbled silently away, Palette wailing after her.  No!  No! I didn’t even…have time…please…  The same pain ripped violently through her chest, and she swallowed back tears, shuddering.  It never ceased to hurt her…never.  No matter how many times….

She slowly picked her way down the orangey rocks, but this time, the scene was different.  Clouds of murky dust filtered up to intercept her, covering her surroundings except for a tail-length on either side.  Narrowing her pale eyes in grief-stricken confusion against the sudden change, Palette slowly leaped down to solid ground and swiveled her head, swallowing convulsively.  She knew where the guard would lie, broken and achingly still, and her paws carried her forwards.  Even through the dust, she knew.  Yet another change made her freeze in her tracks- through the screen of amber-brown, she could see a figure sitting next to the crumpled body of the guard.  Palette tilted her head in confusion, when suddenly the dust parted around the two cats and her heart gave a violent wrench.  Damek?

The dark tabby tom tilted his head at her, and Palette swallowed.  She wanted to ask if Wanda was okay, but she knew the answer from the knowing look in his midnight eyes.  Tears forced their way out of the corners of her eyes, and the figure of the Yellow-Light spoke.  His voice seemed to echo slightly.  ”Life is always changing, Palette.”  A maniacal gleam seemed to enter his stare, and Palette stumbled backwards a pace, her fur rising.  ”Shouldn’t you know that by now?”

His voice echoed once, twice, three times, each echo bouncing off the dust as it suddenly began to draw backwards.  Palette let out a low cry to see a dusty red figure, lifeless and sprawled, first.  Akarui…  Another wail ripped from her.  Eva, sightless blue eyes staring away.  Tzurai, hardly more than a scrap of ginger further off…Blaise, fur torn and flanks unmoving…no, please….  A shriek escaped her, and she was stumbling backwards, wailing, unable to stop it.  This isn’t how it goes…this isn’t right…no….  Suddenly a flash of something behind Damek made her freeze, and as her blood ran cold a fresh, piercing yowl split the air as in a spurt of scarlet and a terrible sound, the tom collapsed as well.  The dust on either side of her began to clear, and her wailing only became worse- Cyrus, Kintsu, Flower, no, they were okay, they were supposed to be okay-

She wrenched herself from the nightmare still screaming, trying to escape, to run anywhere, her chest heaving as she felt something press in on her flanks.  Was she suffocating?  Something was catching in her fur, entangling her thrashing paws, and she let out a wail as pain lanced up her spine, nearly paralyzing her struggles.  Palette’s eyes rolled in terror.  Have to get away…have to get away…what’s happening to me?  Where am I?  For the dark ceiling stretching over her was not that of the Fire Tribe nursery…was she still asleep?  Still living a nightmare?

Herbs were hanging from Damek's mouth as he padded slowly through the territory to return to Light Tribe. He had offered to go and gather some herbs for the healers, as he had already been out hunting earlier that day. He enjoyed it also, so it wasn't like he was doing something useless, at least in his eyes. The smell of the herbs was calming and he also liked applying his own to his wounds, which he did while he was out. The tom had a slight limp from where the fox had grabbed him, and his flank was sore where he had the cut, but other than that he felt fine. After bringing Palette to Light Tribe and getting his own wounds tended a cat had gone to Fire-Tribe to tell them what happened, and with Palette being the only queen it was obvious who. The Yellow-Fire had personally come and retrieved Petrel after checking in on Palette. She was in good paws, obviously, and so he had left.

Now it had been a few days, and the Orange-Fire had still not woken. She had cried out numerous times in her unconsciousness, though Damek had only heard this from the healers. He had made sure Petrel would be fine, but had not gone back into the den to see Palette since. He had other things to do, and what was his reason for going to see her anyways? She was fine, so it didn't matter.

Padding into the main den where the patients were kept, Damek tilted his ear as he heard a cry. Turning his face he saw Palette struggling against the nest, eyes wild with panic. Setting the herbs down carefully in their proper spots, the Yellow-Light let her assess where she was. A healer would be back in soon anyways, so they could tend to her again then. Grabbing some thyme, he dropped it in front of her. It would help calm her down to prevent her from hurting herself. Sitting down, Damek twitched his tail, eyes narrowed. "Afternoon." Lifting his front leg, he carefully took off the wrap to inspect the wounds.

Getting to his paws again, he went back to the store and nosed around for horsetail. Taking it out, he went back to sit beside Palette, chewing the horsetail in his maw. Applying it to his leg, he wrapped it up once again, feeling the chill that went through it as the herbs took effect. He knew that Palette would probably be worried about her kits, though thankfully they didn't need milk anymore to stay strong.

It took her a while before she began to realize she was not being attacked.  Palette swallowed hard, her chest heaving convulsively as she fought for breath and a wave of pain abruptly assaulted her.  Gasping out through clenched teeth, the queen's back arched against it and a cry escaped in a faint breath before she became limp and sank back.  Moss and bracken...that was what had clutched at her.  A nest?  Bewilderment surged through her, and her pale eyes rolled up to examine the far wall...a wall.  A den.  She was in a den?  What...

Suddenly grimly curious as to what the pain had been, Palette tentatively moved, rustling the nest and gritting her teeth.  Her eyes sought the source of the pain, and her breath caught in her throat to stare at a long line of bandages wrapping from her shoulder up towards the back of her neck.  Seeing it, her mouth grew suddenly dry as recollections slammed into her.  The fox.  Petrel.  I...I am not dead?  

"Afternoon."

She startled despite herself at the sudden calm voice, her fur prickling as she turned and very nearly scattered a small, neat heap of leaves right by her nose.  Palette fought back a sneeze, wincing, and stared up into the face of Damek.  For an absurd moment, hope filled her; but upon seeing the impassive expression his face held, she seemed to spiral away, her eyes emptying of their joy.  Right.  He didn't care.  He truly didn't care.  Her heart gave a violent wrench and she bit her lip, emotions raging inside of her, and so she took the safest option.  She turned her face away and swallowed, before words tore from her in a desperate flurry.

"Petrel, and the others," she managed.  "They're okay, aren't they?"  Her eyes flickered with panic as she trembled.  Her kit.  Her son.  He had to be alright...

Palette seemed to relax in her nest as he eyes took in the area. Damek watched as her eyes flitted to the herbs, but seemed to take no care in them. Pelt prickling, he let her lay for a few more moments to get her mind settled. The side of him that used to heal spoke up, and he knew she would be hungry and thirsty. It was hard to get an unconscious cat to drink, though they were able to, but not nearly as much as what was needed.

Wrapping his tail tight around himself, he pushed the thyme closer to Palette. "Eat. Are you hurting?" Turning his dark gaze back to the herbs, he knew they had plenty of different pain killers, so it wouldn't be a problem to grab any. He had taken some for himself earlier, but he tried to go without it as much as possible. He sometimes enjoyed the feeling he got when he fought against the pain that wrapped around him.

Of course her first thought was of her kit. She would have died for him; Damek had seen it in her eyes. "He's fine. The Yellow-Fire came and retrieved him." Unspoken words lingered on his tongue, and he fought himself to not say them, at least not right away. Grinding his teeth together, he glanced at her wounds. They would heal. Of course they would. The healers had taken good care in making sure she would be fine, and hopefully the fox was also gone; dead maybe? The deputy hadn't caught scent of the fox since the incident, and he had gone back to the area. Stale blood covered the ground, and the broad tom had buried it as best he could so nothing else would be drawn to the scent. He definitely didn't want anyone else to get injured.

Her pale eyes stared at the thyme almost in confusion, before she gave him a quick glance and silently, obediently, lapped them up.  She knew where she was now, judging by the scents of herbs that Damek's fur had always carried.  So he had taken her to Light Tribe...yet Palette had the sinking feeling from his detachment that he would have done the same for anyone.  That it had been nothing special for her.  As the initial shock of finding herself safe in a soft nest faded, she was astounded by how weak she felt; her entire body felt as if she'd been dragged across a hot bed of sand by the tail and then left for days out in the chilled weather.  It was a strange sensation, and her spinning head rather frightened her.  How long had she been out?  Yet she twitched her ears silently at his question.  Only in a way herbs can't help.

"No," she finally said at last.  Palette's eyes softened immeasurably to hear that Kintsu had come to get her son.  "Thank the Spirits," she whispered, her mew shaking.  Had he known that she was alright?  That she was still breathing?  His tiny, heartbroken cry rang in her ears again, and suddenly the realization that she wasn't dead hit her like a large stone.  Her eyes watered abruptly and she turned her head away, a slight, choked gasp tearing from her.  She had almost broken her promise, almost left her precious litter...had Cyrus felt it as she had brushed pelts with her end?  What would he have done?  And Kintsu...and Flower.  He would have forever wondered where she had gone.  

She had almost died a shell, broken and useless, tearing herself apart every day to keep from collapsing, and it had never made any sense.  How had Palette been so blind?  It was all for nothing- for a tom who didn't care what she did.  Pain choked her for a moment, but she fought past it, her eyes suddenly glinting.  No more.  Palette had almost let go of life at the most pathetic she had ever been, and the shock of it terrified her.  I can't do that...can't do that for the few cats left in this world who need me.  She felt a strange calm come over her, and she wondered faintly if that was the herbs or her own doing.  She had no idea what the little sprigs did anyway.

Twitching his ears uncomfortably, the words he wished to say still lingered. There was so much to say, and his thoughts jumbled together. I shouldn't be here. Not now, not with her. A flash in his eyes, and a faint hiss of air escaped between his teeth, the struggle within himself evident.

Getting to his paws slowly, the tom wasn't sure what to do. There was always the option to leave. Palette would be fine until a healer came back in, and she probably didn't care if he was here or not. Of course there was still the question as to why Petrel was out of  the camp in the first place, and the question sharpened Damek. Do I even want to know the answer? Probably not.  

"Are you hungry?" He imagined she would be, but maybe not. Pain and shock can distract you from the simple things such as hunger. He himself hadn't ate for a couple days after the caiman battle. The tom couldn`t stomach the prey at the time, so he had left it alone.

Feeling awkward even on his paws, Damek turned his head, ears falling backwards slightly. The den seemed much larger than it really was, and it felt like it continued to expand. With such a large room and only the two of them, the tom wasn't quite sure what to do.

She felt embarrassment tug at her to realize she was crying in front of him, but she didn't bother stopping till she felt under control again.  For the second time in her life, Palette had accepted death- but she had thought this occasion was inevitable.  The crushing weight of the grief she would have caused seemed to drag at her shoulders, and she swallowed hard, letting her newfound calm wash quietly over her.  Though her soft cheeks were still damp, her pale eyes were dry and silent as she flicked them up towards the Yellow-Light.  He seemed to be gritting his teeth, as if fighting words, and Palette's head dropped a little.  She didn't want to fight.  She was tired of fighting.  Tired of ripping herself apart.

So tired.

Finally he spoke, and Palette studied herself in the same calm silence, almost puzzled.  She felt terrifyingly weak- her head spun at the very thought of standing- yet her stomach felt entirely neutral.  Not full, not empty, but simply...quiet.  Everything seemed so quiet about her, and Palette didn't understand it.  Where was the agony, the sensations of torn heartstrings, the everlasting disappointments and regrets?  Lingering sadness gripped her instead, and finally she sighed faintly through her nose.

"No," she murmured, dropping her gaze.  She had the distinct feeling that she was making him uncomfortable.  Palette suddenly felt as if she were a stranger in this den, talking to another stranger.  He seemed to want to move away from her, and bitter regret tightened her throat.  She didn't know what she had done.  True, Palette had changed- been forced to- but so had he.  The pale-furred queen blinked suddenly and rasped out, "Why did you do it?"  She could not bring herself to lift her eyes up to his face, to see how he kept staring at her with conflicted eyes.  Instead she focused upon the trail of bandages that touched the top of her shoulder.  Palette herself didn't really know what answer she wanted to hear- what question she was even truly asking- certainly, it regarded so many things between the two of them.  The space seemed to stretch out further to the point of quietly beginning to rip, and Palette swallowed, her face gaunt from the tolls of the attack and a sense of impending loss.

Hearing her say no, he twitched his ear irritably. Why do I bother? Clamping his teeth together, he stood as she seemed to be lost in thought. He didn't like that she was so silent. Silence wasn't always a good thing, and the tom narrowed his eyes, his wounds stinging lightly as they stretched with his movements. Was she going to accuse him of something else now?

Starting to flick his tail in impatience, he body was taut with tension. His muscles were tight so that it began to ache while standing, because of how stiff his legs were.

"Why did you do it?"

The question immediately made Damek drop his head, taking a step back. Finally, the sharpness rang from his maw. "Do what?" The tension increased inside him, but also a fuelling anger at the vague question. "What could I have possibly done now? Huh?"

Rolling his eyes dramatically, he turned his back to pace the den, eyes sharp and focused on Palette. "All I hear are accusations. All the time. Don't you think a cat gets tired of it sometimes?" The Yellow-Light turned his head away briefly as he turned around to continue pacing the other way. The tom was sick and tired of being the 'bad guy'. Currently, he just wanted Palette to go home so he could feel safe in his home, instead of targeted. Of course she had been unconscious, but it made his pelt stand on end at times knowing she was in his camp, especially since their last meeting. Whiskers twitching  and blue gaze seemingly darker than usual, he looked at Palette.

The queen took in a surprised breath that seemed half-strangled through the tautness of her throat when Damek instantly turned defensive.  "I didn't-" she began, but Damek was already cutting her off, rolling his eyes and snapping.  Palette began to tremble slightly, her eyes stinging as she looked at him.  No, she didn't know him.  The cat who said he'd loved her and had sat quietly with her beside the riverbank would never act like this...but that cat had not been made a father.  That cat had not had a yellow diamond and star, but a soft emerald.  That cat had not lost an ear and a love....Palette tried to take a deep breath to steady herself, but the simple swelling of her upper body merely made her wound stretch and surge through her in a bout of vicious pain that snatched the air away.  

"I wasn't accusing you," she finally whispered, but now her eyes had become strangely empty as she looked at him.  Her head seemed to spin slightly as she let her muzzle drop.  "I meant...I...I don't know."  Her voice trembled, yet as soon as she realized she was losing control despair caught her up in a splashing current.  Palette was done with this, constantly fighting, always ripping herself into more pieces.  No more.  She would not let herself go again, she had to find a way to get past this useless shell that she was and discover her heart again.  And even as Palette realized this, she knew Damek was standing in the way.  Perhaps not Damek, but what surrounded him- arguments.  More pain.  More weariness.  So much pain...the agony swelled in her throat and Palette said very quietly, "I don't want to fight today...no.  No, I don't want to fight again.  Ever again...please...."  The last few words seemed to be more for herself than Damek, and she swallowed convulsively, ignoring the pain it caused her due to her injury.

The pale she-cat looked at Damek with age-old eyes, tired as if they had seen a thousand years passing and filled with hurt.  "We can't do this anymore," Palette forced out, every word hurting her.  And yet...they had to be said.  How had it taken almost dying, and the fear of what she would have lost because of it, to open her eyes like this?  Though the fragments of her heart shuddered, her mew was steady and so very quiet.  Defeated.  Yet also softly determined, through the pain in it.  "I mean we can't fight like this...that's all we do.  We only hurt each other now, don't you see that?"  Palette took a deep breath again, focusing on the feeling of air filling her lungs and then being slowly released, the pressure fading away in a gentle exhale.  "You...you've got to be the best Yellow you can be...I've got to be the best mother.  And the best smith...my denmates need me, after the war.  But I can't be that right now, not like this.  I can't hurt you anymore.  And I can't...I can't let you hurt me anymore, either."

Surely her heart was breaking.  Surely it couldn't have been already, for it seemed to be splitting and shattering like cracked ice now...yet the release of the tension, the pressure, was somewhat relieving.  Closure through breaking, that was what she did, Palette supposed.  

She wondered how many times she could really break.

Dark, brooding eyes watch the she-cat. He wasn't sure what she would say. He was so tired, of everything. Every day he felt drained and only half there. He never showed it though. The dark tabby still performed to the best of his ability, and made sure no one would know. He couldn't be seen as weak.

Listening to her speak, Damek wasn't sure what to say. His tense posture slowly faded, and his shoulders seemed to collapse onto himself. His whole body sagged, and his defences were suddenly down. He didn't want to argue anymore either. Everything was so, so dark. A world of darkness and endings. He could hear it in her voice, the tone of a finale. No more fighting. No more nothing. A pang went through his whole body and his face drooped with the unexpected weight he had been carrying. He was still angry and upset, of course he was. Something like that couldn't just go away with a single wave of a paw. It would take time for him to forgive fully.

"We can't do this anymore." The words stung, and he lifted his gaze to hers, letting her finish. "I-I never wanted this. You know that, right?" Voice shaking with a deep sadness, he shook his head, eyes showing no emotion, but the slight turn of his mouth showed his emotions. "I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted you to hurt me. I never thought that we would end up only hurting each other. This wasn't supposed to happen."

Heaving a deep sigh, he turned his head, slowly turning away. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, Damek shook his head again. "I can't do it anymore either. I have my tribe. I need to be there. I can't keep secretly hurting and never getting better. I need to find myself again, and you... need to find yourself." He knew it was the truth, and the words were finally spoken. Squeezing his eyes shut, he shuffled his paws lightly. "I-I guess in times of hardship we see the truth about others."

She was admittedly stunned at how quickly the facade of cold indifference crumbled and acceptance glowed in his dark gaze.  Yet wasn't that what she wanted?  This was...what needed to be done.  But it still hurt, worse than watching Wanda fall or Akarui's ragged figure being dropped in front of her.  The piercing guilt threatened to choke her as she caught a glimpse of him- the part of him she'd loved- but the pain surrounding her immediately overwhelmed it.  Gone.  He was gone from her, and Palette bit the inside of her cheek.  She knew deep inside she should stay silent, yet the lingering bitterness pulled achingly for release.  It would be better to get it off her chest in the end anyways.

"I saw it," whispered Palette.  "That day, you wanted to hurt me- I'm sure you had reasons.  You might not even realize it now, I..."  She choked on her words and closed her eyes tightly, her frail figure shuddering with both physical and emotional agony.  "...It doesn't matter anymore...you're free. You can find yourself."  A touch of dark irony glinted in her listless eyes as Palette turned away.  Funny to think he needed to find who he was now.  And yet it truly wasn't, it was just...ironic.  He was free, she was free, and yet she felt tightly laced with guilt.  Nothing made it easy for her anymore.  The Orange-Fire was surrounded by a cage of weariness that was open now, but she had long since forgotten how to fly.

"Can I have something for the pain?" she managed, her mew very small and quiet.  She could not bring her gaze up to his, only staring at her paws.  She'd have to stay here for a few more days, she knew.  Let me drown myself in leaves and sleep.  Let me not be tired anymore...

His chest hurt terribly. Everything hurt. It was overwhelming, enveloping. His breaths were ragged and shaky. Collecting himself silent, he didn't speak until he knew for sure his voice would be steady. Everything will be okay. Pieces of himself felt as if they were falling and shattering.

"You think I wanted to hurt you? I never did. Not once. Just as you never wanted to hurt me, but you still did. It was still there. The betrayal.. the lack of trust, communication. I could see the determination in you to fight. No matter how strong my love for you was, it wasn't enough to help you. Nothing I would have done could have saved you from throwing yourself further into a pit of despair. I thought I would be enough, but I wasn't. Nothing mattered except the loss of your friends." His voice had started to shake again in it's quiet whisper. The left out sentence seemed to hang in the air. That is what hurt the most.

Damek watched as her eyes stayed away from his, finding other things to look at. Giving a small nod, he went into the store and pulled out a couple poppy seeds. He silently grabbed some chamomile also. Maybe it would help the mental pain also. He took a couple extra; some for himself.

Placing it in front of her, the deputy remained standing. A couple leaves still in his mouth. "I'm sorry." He spoke over the leaves, waiting for her to eat the herbs before dismissing himself.

The sickeningly sweet tang of herbs was making her feel dizzy- or maybe it was simply that no matter how much air she breathed in, the world kept spinning.  Her eyes burned as she looked up at him.  Was.  Well, that was alright.  He was moving on.  Palette knew, as much as his admittance made her broken pieces ache for his forgiveness, that she wouldn't be able to trust him again.  And most likely, it was likewise for the deputy.  So yes, the Orange-Fire was glad he was starting to move on.  Lucky that he can.

"I needed to see you," she finally managed.  "More than once a moon or two.  But you've got responsibilities, and I get in the way of them.  So I can't blame you for not being there.  You did matter.  But your Tribe mattered more."  Palette felt a grim laugh escape her, and she immediately regretted how much her shoulder hurt, her maw parting in a silent gasp as a rush of pain attacked her.  She paused to catch her breath, hissing it in through clenched teeth as her gaze blurred with tears.  "Do me a favor," she whispered, so softly it was nearly inaudible as she stared at the herbs he placed in front of her.  "Be the best Yellow Light Tribe ever saw."  Something our kits can be proud of.  And that way, I know you'll be okay, even if I never am.  Maybe I might be able to forgive and forget everything....

But she never would forget.  Never would be able to.  She couldn't let him back in now, after all that had happened, even if she finally accepted his weak apology and made her own.  The trust between them had broken.  Palette felt the space stretching out before her and the tom slowly tear itself apart, with an eerie sensation that the world had become sickly thin and overcompensated afterward.  She lapped up the tiny black seeds and gave the leaves a quick. quiet sniff before she ate them, too.  Damek still carried a tiny bundle, but Palette didn't question him on it.  Her pale gaze slowly flicked up to his face, already clouding, and she let her head fall to her paws, waiting for sleep to take her.  Desperately clinging on to whatever reprieve seeds and herbs could give her...

Shaking his head, he sighed. "Then you should have told me that. With the caimans it was hard to find time. I knew from the very beginning that my tribe must come first. The Spirit Code calls for it, and as a deputy it was only right for me to put my tribe above everything else."

He could see the blame was still there. Maybe it always would be, but it pricked his pelt like tiny thorns. Shaking his head, he stepped back, ready to leave.

"A healer should be in soon. They can explain what they did for treatment and your recovery then." He didn't say anything to her telling him to be the best Yellow. Damek didn't know what to say, and he had nothing else to say. Not right now. He wasn't sure when words would even come again for her. All the words had been spoken. He lifted a paw, drawing it carefully to where his left ear had once been. It was so bare, and the wind seemed to cut right into him from his missing ear. It was time to leave.

Flicking his tail, he padded to the entrance, glancing back at Palette to see the poppy seeds taking effect. Sighing, he walked out of the healers den, back into the bright sunlight of the day.

Her throat seemed to be closing as she turned her head away.  "I tried," she whispered.  "I mean, no, I...I'm...I'm selfish."  The little black seeds were taking effect, and she struggled to force out her slurred words.  "If you can...find someone...better.  I'm not the same cat you...said you loved."  Palette felt the tears finally break over her lids and stain her cheeks, but she was too far gone to truly care anymore.  Her wings were broken, so why shouldn't she cry?  It wasn't as if she could fly away.  "And you're...different too.  But that's alright now...."  The Orange-Fire's head fell back, and she felt ready to welcome the sleep the herbs would bring her.  Yet even as she felt herself sliding, a brief panic fluttered in her belly as he turned away.  Will I still have nightmares?  I don't want...want to see them...I changed my mind, take them back, I don't want to sleep, please!

But it was too late, and Palette saw him turn, leaving her.  The significance of it was far more than him simply leaving the den.  She fought against the tugging sleep that brushed a sticky pelt temptingly against hers, writhing, wanting to get away.  No.  No.  She was stuck here.  She couldn't escape it- the guilt, the new cracks, the pain- sleep wasn't going to help.  But Damek wasn't going to either, and staying awake in his camp, surrounded by pain with his name written over it, was agonizing.  So maybe sleep was best.  Palette finally managed to let loose a single, terrible low cry, not loud enough to draw anyone running but enough to express the fiery beast tearing her apart from the inside.  She hurt when he was there.  She hurt when she had pushed him away.  What was right?  What was wrong?

...Wrong was fighting.  Wrong was expecting something of him that he could not give her, and Palette knew with a sense of deadly peace that she couldn't let him back in.  Of course, she knew that.  But despite her mind fogged with artificial drowsiness, Palette abruptly knew this had to be right.  Damek had to focus on his deputyship...and she?  She had to find out how to fly again.  Someday, she'd find a way to lift the torn, ragged feathers from her back and escape this cage, and this sudden hope seemed to be her fortitude's undoing.  Sleep unfolded around her in a thick black wave, and at last, Palette let it swallow her.

If she couldn't fly, she'd just have to drown.