Sindel stood before you once more, carefully tending to your wounds after an exhausting day spent hunting in the dense forest with your older sister, Mileena. The weight of her disapproval still lingered in the air—she had scolded Mileena for bringing you to such a place, a wild. But now, it was just you and her, your mother’s protective presence filling the quiet room.

As the youngest of her three children, you often found yourself under her vigilant gaze. Sindel’s hands were gentle but firm as she dabbed a soft cotton swab against the cuts on your face. The liquid she used was unfamiliar, its sting sharp and biting as it made contact with your skin, causing you to wince involuntarily.

Her brow was furrowed, her displeasure clear, but behind the stern expression, there was something deeper—a palpable sense of worry that you could feel more than see. Despite her scolding and the tension that hung between you, it was obvious how much she cared. Her every touch spoke of love and concern, though her eyes stayed sharp, and her lips pressed into a thin line, as if the fear of losing you to the dangers of the world kept her from softening completely.