Beware the dragoness of storms,

As she rides the winds.

Beware her talons as black as her soul,

For they will take damn her to Hell.

Beware her sharp gaze,

As they are not of a sky dragon's.

Beware her blood,

It is not dragon.

Caution for the Dragoness of Storms.

For she will bring Hell to Earth.

"Die colonel!" Tatyana shouted in much a similar voice to Markov, anguish.

The CFA-44 was falling apart at the seams, the controls reacted poorly, always giving Bishop time to fire bullets into the exposed wires. Tatyana growled, looking back as she swore her life flashed before her eyes. The jet started to spiral into a flat spin.

"Tatyana eject!" Bishop ordered, he didn't want to see her die.

"Nyet I will die if I have to!" She hissed, but the fear overtook her and her small hands immediately went to the ejection handle, pulling and forcing her out of the cockpit.

She stared around as she was falling from the sky, ever so softly through as a parachute forced her to, yet another part of her wanted to die so badly. Just so she could see her mother once again. Tatyana fumbled around for her knife and when she found it she cut the chords, making herself fall close to ten feet before her head hit a piece of concrete debris.

Tatyana awoke in a bright room, her mind flooded with memories of the first time of her stay in a military hospital. She tried to sit up, but she was forced back down by her chest.

"Let me go!" She commanded.

"Jesus you are like your mother," Markov had to laugh from her bedside.

Tatyana looked around, then tried to bury her head in the pillow. "I wanna die fucking damn it."

"That's a new colourful mix of yours," Her father laughed.

She mumbled an incoherent Russian insult at her father, looking at him and then smiling at Markov, "I learned that from papa nobody else."

"Sergei, what was our deal? You do not curse in front of your daughter-"

"It slips, do not blame me she never leaves me alone."

"Stahp accusin' me," Tatyana said, mimicking the American accent the best she could. "God they sound so obnoxious."

"Wow mean much?"

"Hello Captain Asshole," Tatyana giggled.

"Yeah you are real mean, like your father was bad enough kid." Gutierrez pouted, it was more of a fake pout. It made her smile.

"I take my insults from mama. She was real good at them, like it was amazing how-"

"Tanya." Illich scolded.

"Gee sorry papa," The girl rolled her eyes. Then looked around. "Everything is intact right? I kinda want that bionic arm that Venom has." She examined her father's face, "Yeah you are not impressed with me."

"Not true. Slightly irritated."

"I like how we are speaking English. The most complicated language in the world." Tatyana smiled.

"That...whatever disorder she has must be getting worse."

"There's a bird outside." She pointed at the window ledge.

"Now you're doing that on purpose." Guts said.

"Amerikantsy." She smiled.

Those few days were boring, being in a hospital then sent back home-Canada where her father had gotten themselves a home to stay in, along with Markov. Due to the trade of the CFA-44(that the USA hadn't argued for) they had been made Canadian citizens fairly quickly. No pledge was needed, that pledge had been giving up the world's best fighter to the most peaceful nation for research. She was in her bedroom, the stray cat that had wandered around the street was on her chest, purring. Tatyana called her the English word "Kitkat". Her fingers stroked through the tabby fur, head lied back against the pillows on her bed.

"Tanya, come out and be social!" Her father shouted in the Russian language.

"Why?" She queried. "It is such a nice day to relax!"

"Tanya!"

"Coming, papa," Tatyana rolled her eyes, picking up the cat and carrying her out of the room when she walked out.

The cat seemed hesitant, eyes wide likely with fear. Like the cat, Tatyana was very antisocial nowadays, impulsive too with a little bit of hyperactivity. Illich was hesitant with medication, he knew she had it much worse than himself but he had only the inattentiveness of ADD, Tatyana had mixed ADHD, more on the impulsive side. He could control it, Tatyana...not so much. The arguments would get bad, mathematics were Hell for her and anything artistic was very well done. Tatyana stood by her father and nodded to Markov and Krista.

"So, what is my purpose here?" She asked.

"To not lock yourself away with that furry creature," He nodded to the cat.

"But she's so soft! And fluffy! Oh, and...what else was I going to tell you?" She started thinking. She looked at her father. "I do not remember."

"I have told you, that ADHD of her's has gotten worse,"

Tatyana looked back with shock, finally realizing Markov and of course Krista both there, looking at her. "I am a retard."

"No you aren't kiddo," Markov had reached up to ruffle her hair glowing like amber embers with a tint of a spruce wooden brown to them. Tatyana rolled her eyes, sighing then laughing at the touch that felt almost electric to her-Tatyana was much much more sensitive to any physical contact. She bowed her head in a bit of embarrassment, she was more loud and immature than most young Russian girls her age. It didn't help that she had a neurological developmental disorder, it made her act immature for sure but she somewhat knew how to control it.

"Tanya, Krista is going to be driving you to cadets tonight. Have fun little pilot." Major Illich said in Russian. "Go get ready you have an hour and a half before you leave."

"Yes papa," Tatyana dropped the cat on her father and bolted with a flurry of childish giggles from her, closing the door as he audibly cursed in Russian.

She sat on her bed for a moment, then lied down, staring at the ceiling before her vision went dark, and sleep was upon her...