He didn't know why, but when he woke up to the golden sun peering into his room, he had a sense of dread loom over him. Deadly anticipation sat like lead in his stomach and all throughout the day, he gave about shifting glances to those that passed him in the halls of their winding palace and seemed troubled a majority of the time as thoughts were tossed about in his head— thoughts that did not stop. Anxiety lurked deep beneath his skin but he did not dare confide in anyone about his horrible, terrible feeling. He quietly, subtly, asked for the warriors and older apprentices of the Dark Dynasty to send out a few more patrols than usual today. When inquired of the reason, he merely said: "I was thinking of getting our defenses up since we do have a murderer about," and they nodded their heads in understanding, unsuspecting, totally unaware of the crippling thoughts that made Softvelvet wish he could crawl into the deepest part of the palace and just cease to exist.
Softvelvet would soon know that his feeling of something bad happening beforehand would be one that of truth. The male has never received omens before and yet he's heard they come in a variety of ways. Visions, emotions, mere coincidences happened upon in the real world— all sorts of ways. However, the possibility that this was a warning for something horrible to come was something that he did not consider. He had figured it was just his nerves and thought with sending out more patrols, that he would settle. It eased his nerves a little, knowing that their home was a bit more secure what with their minuscule numbers, but that sense of security did not last long. The catsune was settled in the main chamber when an NPC ran into the room, huffing and puffing and looking wide-eyed. They called for him and Softvelvet, rightfully concerned, answered hesitantly but made sure to keep his emotions and his expression in check. However, he froze when he was told what happened. Someone is dead on our border. The fur along his back rose, alarm seeping into his carefully crafted countenance. "I knew this would happen," He says, much to the NPC's confusion and before he could be questioned, he takes off without another word.
He reaches the border not too long later and he slows to a trot as he comes across the patrol that happened upon this "murder." At first, the smell of blood did not startle him all that much. After all, there was no scent that accompanied anything nearby but he did not allow himself to rest easy as he crept closer, preparing himself for the sight that would cripple him for life. The patrol of NPCs, when they see Softvelvet, back up and away in reverence but the looks that they give him were... odd. They were filled with grief and they did not look him in the eyes. They were worried, afraid. What the hell is happening here? And then he sees her.
Her little body is hardly recognizable but he knows its her. Its her. His baby girl. Astarte. A mother's instincts never betrays anyone— he knows that this was his child. A sound struggles out his throat, twisted and pathetic even for an regal man such as himself, and he crumples on the spot before his child's body. He does not care for the crimson that laid thickly at his paws, staining his ivory and golden marked fur. He does not care that there are people watching as he broke in front of their very eyes. He didn't care— he didn't care— he didn't care. "Oh, my child... my baby, Astarte... I'm so sorry." The reality sets in. The shock wears off. Sadness invades him and the feeling of loss is never before felt greater. Heartbroken sobs wracked his body forcefully, making him shiver and shake under the shade of the bamboo. Softvelvet picks up the mangled body of his daughter and holds her close to him and he does not move and he does not speak anymore.
Loss was foreign to Softvelvet. He had never known what loss felt like until now— yes, only until now. He knew people died all the time and that it was just what happened. He never considered it would happen to him, as arrogant as that probably sounded, but honestly, it had just never came to mind. After all, he had been dealing with more shit the day he stepped out of the Korin Empire to travel out on his own. But god, he hated this feeling this gave him. This pathetic, empty, sinking, worthless feeling. This wasn't right. It just wasn't. Who would be cruel enough to take his daughter away from him in such a horrific way— murder? Why make him go through this tragedy? What had he done wrong?
He's done nothing wrong, he's sure. Life was just unnecessarily cruel and evil.