They say music soothes the savage beast. I say music speaks to all of us, to our soul, spirit, or whatever that spark within us that makes us live. That which makes us what we are.

Some of the earliest memories I have are of music. Chants echoing against temple walls, voices raised in praise of Bastet and her Children. Songs to please and entertain Tuthmosis and I as we sat in rulership over our city before it was attacked, and I went into exile to save my people.

So many lives I have lived through, music can bring them all back to me. The words of a song I heard on the radio earlier spoke to me. It was about a difficult situation the songwriter went through, but it captured me nonetheless. I went online and found the lyrics, and copied them here:

Forgive, sounds good
Forget, I’m not sure I could
They say time heals everything
But I’m still waiting

Forgive, sounds good
Forget, I’m not sure I could
They say time heals everything
But I’m still waiting

With just a few different lines, that song could have been about me. About anyone really. Every day we must have choices, but for those like me, those who are more than human – or simply not human at all – those choices can be twice as difficult to make. Should I give in to my inner beast? Or is that my inner human? Sometimes it is hard to know the difference, because I have been both. Trying to strike a balance, to maintain a level of harmony between my feral heart and my human mind, is difficult. It would be so easy just to abandon it all, to give in to the simple joy of chasing a butterfly, or the pleasure of mating with Tracks, or the thrill that comes from tearing down an enemy and seeing his blood on my claws. Life would be so simple. Eat, sleep, play and fuck.

But I am more than that. I have to be, for my Mother gave us a human form for a reason. I cannot turn my back on my beast either, and live purely as a human would. On that path lies a different kind of madness.

Our very nature makes it difficult for us to deal with those not of our kind. Humans can sense our beast and it frightens them, though they know not why. They don’t understand why we act and think as we do. It’s not that we’re not ready to make nice, it’s just that our version of nice is different from theirs.

Cass understands this, having grown up around ferals. I don’t think Diesel cares one way or the other. I don’t know how much Jasmin remembers from one of her previous incarnations, but I don’t know how she feels. That leaves Qing, who misunderstands me most of all.

I believe that because I have a human form, that I am human, and expects me to behave as such. But how can I, and why should I, when I am not human? Really, why should I care about humans and what they do? More of them poison the land, both physical and Shadow, than work to help and heal. I don’t think she understands the importance of the resonance of our territory, or even why we are possessive of it. Nor do I know if I can explain it fully. Not because I can’t, but whether or not I want to. While I may trust Qing with my life, I do not trust her with all my secrets. It’s not as though I tell Cass and the others everything, but I know they will not share them with others. Diesel’s simply too antisocial to have many friends to talk to, and Cass, well, she understand the importance of secrecy. But I know nothing of the mages with whom Qing associates. I was once the prisoner of a mage, a victim of his experiments, and I will not allow that to happen again.

But still, I find myself being ever drawn to protecting those around me, despite my desire to protect just me and my own. Those who wrong me and mine will find the sharp end of my claws. As much as the safer path, the easier path, may be to just let the world fall apart around me, I cannot do that. If you are my enemy, I won’t make nice, and I won’t back down. And while I may forgive, this cat has a very long memory.