who will save you now?
Makoto shook, no one was around, and she was drowning. Panic set in, her breathing labored. Who will come to save me? The thought rang in her mind, as her labored breaths allowed more water in. An idea. Makoto used her Chakra. Coating her body with it, coating her lungs. She would wait.
The Anahita was saved, under the light of her (full) moon. A silent, dead night; her tigers–with strangely glowing stripes, which she presumed her imagination–pulled her out.
It was the dead of night, mere months after she had begun to drown. Makoto felt a tug upon her soul. So, she ran.
Her tigers had called, and she had come. As they came for her. An elder, although merely a few decades old, tigress had begun to give birth. A messy, bloody birth. One that required Makoto's assistance. The birth, being far too early, did not provide cubs. Makoto didn’t care, her baby survived.
The cub that Makoto had saved and raised survived. And so, she sobbed. Her bones aching with relief, since then she would avoid spending nights away from them.