Ⲟⲛⲩⲭ

She is called the Ascendant to those of the Rainforest and the pack that follows her. She is called the Traitor to those of the mountains and her family, a deserter to her pack and a disgrace to her ancestors.
From an early age, her Great Grandfather considered her his true heir. She was a scatterbrained pup but showed leadership skills far beyond any of his other descendants. She was groomed to be a leader the minute she outgrew the nursery den. Slowly, the energetic pup that the pack had known was gone, replaced by a calm and collected young adult. Everyone thought she'd be a great leader; her leadership skills were second to none and she was loved and respected by her pack.
Atlas passed, leaving her to lead the pack. Not much changed. She not only looked like the former revered pack leader but held the same wisdom and lead with the same values.
When they first noticed the change, the pack cannot say. It was slow. Gradual. Slowly, she became more and more withdrawn from her pack. She started calling her daughter Princess more and more often, the affectionate nickname a sign of what was to come. Her mate noticed the change before the others did, taking it upon himself to get to the bottom of the sudden shift in her personality.
He was the first to learn of her plan to leave. Leave the mountains, leave the very place where her and her ancestors were born, in favor of the tropics. Her mate was shocked, trying to reason with her. It was a futile effort.
She presented her plan to her pack. Not a question nor a vote, but a decree. They were leaving. Her family was appalled by her statement, telling her that they couldn't leave their ancestral home. She had made up her mind, though, and no one could change it. Not her pack, not her family, not even her mother nor her mate.
They refused to follow her. She didn't force them. She didn't even try to convince them. She simply left them, standing there on the rocky outcropping as she led her few faithful followers away. She didn't look back, didn't see the pained expression of her mother or the sorrowful gaze of her mate, the confused and betrayed expressions of her family and friends.
The only blood that followed her was her daughter, nothing more than a weanling who could hardly walk more than a half mile before she had to be carried. The journey was long and treacherous, but soon she had carved out a territory in the wilds of the rainforest. The pack settled, and so did she.
She uprooted the traditions of her old pack, naming herself the queen and her daughter the princess and rightful heir to the throne.
Those who had chosen to follow her were loyal, though they still worried about the change they'd witnessed in their leader. She had deserted half her pack, who's to say she wouldn't do it again? There was little trust left for the leader, the title she earned not so much a nod to her influence as it was a warning to others, reminding all those who inhabit the rainforest of her power.