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She was, at first, just known as Saliya. There was a fire burning in her belly, so she seeks to feed it. It takes cut paws, weak legs, and one of her eyes, but she makes her way down from the north. The journey sets her on her way; she learns to scrap, talk, deal with wounds, and generally make it down the path unlike the corpses lining it. There in Mesopotamia, she finds what she is seeking, in part. Her days bleed into nights as she learns the The Way, clawing to the depths of its bones. In it, she learns other things, ones not taught by the old, thin cats (but strong, stronger than anyone) that pass The Way down.
What she finds is that the fire burning inside her can take her anywhere, through restless nights, even if her legs might collapse under her weight, as long as she stokes it. At Mesopotamia, she becomes Saliya of the North. She is faster than the others, her moving circles stay truer, her opponents freezing at the strength of fire before it devours them. At Mesopotamia, under the date palms, Saliya of the North meets her match.
He is called Jalal the Paw, and when they circle each other, their tails drawing lines in the ground, she can see his fire as he can see hers. The fight itself only takes a minute, more than twice that she takes with others.
She ends up losing by draw.
That’s all it takes for her to throw herself back into her studies; she’s been growing complacent in them. She fails to secure a victory against Jalal, and soon she and the others have left Mesopotamia, having learned their amount of The Way to pass on. Stories about her spread, with cats talking of her in varying amounts of awe and fear. And as she travels, she hears of Jalal as well. They end up opposed for years, fighting against each other’s efforts but never meeting, until it all comes to a head.
She ends up back in Mesopotamia, with Jalal facing her, as they prepare to make their mark. The fight lasts longer now, the two of them matching blows under the setting sun and date palms. She could consider it a spectacle, a work of art, but in her practice she’s found the strength of the night, and the approaching darkness is what has the flame in those amber eyes go out.
It isn’t too long before she finds herself westward and settles in a growing city. Amidst the gangs, she walks freely, because even with her thin structure and short fur, the other cats see her eye and know to fear.
She certainly gives them reason to, soon enough.
In the city, Saliya of the North becomes Sally Bones, and finds cats to keep up with her fire. She learns the city like she learned The Way, and finds herself at the center of it. During late nights, however, she tires, the entire rule being a matter management now. It seems the days of battles under date palms are far behind her, and that stays true up until a cat with a coat of blue she hasn’t seen since it was stained with scarlet tries to take her city.
She certainly enjoys it, not because she thinks the cat to be of any threat, but because in the right distorted light he can seem so. Over the years she’s learned more and more of night that the city runs under, and if he’s going to pose any threat, he’ll need to see it and fail to be crushed under the weight.
He fails, and she takes his friend, letting her see the darkness she’s lived under so long. The friend will prove useful, because though he failed against her, he can succeed against any else. That’s what she focuses on, when he shows up again, even after he refuses. It’s what she focuses on as they fight, driving him to the edge of the roof, up until the sun rises. She sees Jalal on top of a mountain in the distance, and she is once again under the mesopotamian breeze.
And when she falls, it feels like she is coming down from the north again.