'Revenge was sweet, yes, but only once she got the bitter taste of loss out of her mouth.'

She watched them carefully, explaining in her mind every move. They were making something out of those mud lumps; she could see it.

When San was very young, she often would do the same: The ground near the river was very dense and sticky, and it was quite fun to squish it around in her fingers, and roll little balls. When the balls were dry, they became hard. With those little balls she would get what she wanted many times: She could throw them; she was actually very good at it, and when her brothers came near something hers, she would bombard them with the mud balls. Her brothers would then have two options: Either to stay and endure the attack, or run away. Usually they did the latter, and so San would be left to her own property. They themselves couldn't repeat the act because they couldn't make such little balls.

She had hands: ugly, scraggly, things that were veryuseful.

She used them for everything. And though they were quite ugly, they were much more comfortable than beautiful paws.

Besides, she was used to being ugly. She just was. She walked on her hind legs, with ugly feet sticking out at the ends. She had strange lumps on her chest. Two strange lumps, both ending with something that looked like the bite of a bug: Though her mother had the bug bites too. Her mother said they were for feeding pups. She didn't have a snout and a wet black nose: instead she had a dry nose, and a separate mouth. Her teeth weren't sharp. She was hairless, except for her head, and the areas under her arms and between her legs. On her head was that ugly mud brown tuft: It was always too long, and getting in the way. She cut it every warm season. She had the hair on her head as long as she could remember. The other hair started growing much later.

She dreamt of having a long snowy coat of fur like her beautiful brothers, and like her mother. She was the most beautiful wolf: So big, and white. But San didn't have a beautiful snowy fur coat: Instead she was bare, and ugly. Over time she got used to her ugliness. So she didn't mind her hands one bit, in fact she rather liked them.

She used her little balls to her advantage for a long time. One day, Taichi, her brother, found a little ball like that, except it was black and shiny, and much heavier. They took it to their mother, and she, after telling the young girl to drop it and never touch it, explained it was evil: That the humans used them to kill animals and gods. It was called a bullet, and it was made out of Iron.

Next time she used her mud balls, Koji, her other brother called them bullets: She stopped ever since.

Her ugly hands had many other benefits. Though she didn't have sharp teeth and claws like a proper wolf, she could, using her hands, make a fake one; and a better one too. It was called a knife, her mother told her, and it was another human tool: yet this one wasn't as evil. So she kept her knife, and made more: She learned some were called swords, or spears, depending on length and structure. So, after all she like her scrawny hands.

And now, here she was, watching many more ugly creatures like her. They walked on their hind legs, they didn't have wet noses or snouts, were hairless, clawless, and soft teethed. Some had white hide, or cloth, as they called it, on their heads, and some had sudden hair like she did. They too, had two ugly bumps on their chest. They were just like her.

They were humans.

She had heard stories of the times when the forest had owned the land. Stories of the world before the humans had taken it away. She had heard of when forest grew on the mountain, and it was green, and life was plentiful.

Then, came the humans. They had set up a settlement on the small island in the middle of the lake, where no body lived anyway. At first, no one minded them. Only the apes yammered on about how those humans were going to be the end. No paid and heed to either ape or human. She remembered those days herself, now without stories, for she, San, third daughter of Moro, had lived during those days, those dying days of peace, with the storm cloud looming over them.

She herself– She was San. Her mother had named her so, because she was the third child. She was the proud wolf child, respected for her agile skill and tool making. Despite her ugliness and weakness, she strived to be equal to other, and she succeeded. She was an honorable wolf in the wolf clan of Moro. She lived with her wolf brothers in the forest, dominating the wild, living a life of utter happiness.

But the humans– they changed everything. For fifteen full moons, they lived quietly. She would often watch then, curiously, eagerly. She rather liked them at first. They had built funny looking shelters, and they were climbing all over them, building more. Like ants. The biggest one had an opening at the top, and strange looking stuff came out of there. It looked like blood in water, like when you cut your finger, and stick it in in the water. It came out like that. Or like the clouds, but moving much faster. But this stuff was neither white, like the clouds, nor red, like the blood. It was an odd, heavy gray color. She liked watching this gray cloud pouring out of the opening: the wind would catch it, and throw it around, creating odd wispy patterns. One day she came too near, and the gray cloud mixed with the air. It had been awful and choking. She started disliking the humans just then.

It was that day, when the rumors spread, she remembered the shock, that the humans had dared set foot in the forest, and they had started cutting down trees. The apes had gone ballistic: They swang from tree to tree, screaming wildly, about the danger, the horror that would come. It was Nago's, the boar god's, forest they had the audacity to enter. They had a good laugh at that: Nago would make them pay.

He did. The humans scattered from the forest, as the boars broke the brown gates they made out of trees. She realized, that they had been taking trees all along, and that the funny buildings were made out of hundreds of dead trees from Nago's forest. It disgusted her, that they had killed entire hoards of trees and made shelters out of their bodies.

They all knew that Nago would drive them out, and that there was nothing to fear. And maybe it would have been that way– if not for the Gunwoman.

She came one day, with men and strange 'guns' that fired balls of fire. Bullets, San realized with increasing horror. This woman had come to her forest with evil bullets and 'guns' and men. She lead her men to battle with Nago. She shot a bullet in his side. She drove away the boars, and let the humans clear it away to dig the ground. She had instilled fear and pain in the hearts of the gods living in the remaining forests.

The Gunwoman helped the humans fight off the boars, but she didn't help and go. No. She stayed and became the leader of their town. They continued digging up the earth: searching for the material that made evil bullets: Iron.

San swore on her life she would protect her home. So did her brothers and her mother. If a similar fate was to be bestowed upon them, as upon Nago, they would fight to the death.

The Gunwoman became her sworn enemy. She, if killed…now that would resolve everything. The humans would be weak without their leader, and most likely flee. If that woman were killed, the humans would leave. And the forest would be free again.

San tried sneaking onto the island, to do her job. To kill the Gunwoman, and to free the forest. She was caught on her first try: She managed to get away, but she had lost the element of surprise. On the other hand, she had imbued terror in the townspeople. The people of the town, Iron Town, knew about her now. They had proclaimed her the 'Wild Beast Princess' or 'The Princess of Vengeful Spirits': The Princess Mononoke.

She held that title with pride, and with honor. She was proud of it; she became the 'Mononokehime', gladly. It meant she was the protector of the forest.

She had become a frequent visitor in the town. But the Gunwoman was elusive, and had many men to protect her. Guards. It was dishonorable to have guards. It was cheating: to have men's lives to guard your own. Disgusting.

Sometimes, she managed to actually get the Gunwoman: a slash to the chest, to the arm, to the leg. Yet sometimes, the Gunwoman got her too. She proved to be, as much as San hated to admit it, an agile fighter, moving swiftly and precisely. Perhaps dishonorable, but a worthy opponent.

It was the Gunwoman who shot her mother, with an evil bullet, that lived in her mother's chest. That would never be forgiven. She promised she would kill her next time.

She might of. If.

If Ashitaka hadn't come along.

But he did come. He saved the Gunwoman's life, he saved San's life, and so made his entrance. He stayed between the two sides: undecided, a dangerous position. She spared his life too. She wasn't sure completely why. He was a clever, sneaky one: when she was about to cut off his head, he told her, ugly hairless San, that she was beautiful. She was so shocked by this bold lie that she jumped back. There he was, was lying in a pool of his own blood. He had a bullet wound, from his own humans. That was terrible: his own kind turned against him. She was saddened by the sight, and decided to let him live.

He changed her life.

After that: the war with the boars, Lord Okkoto changing into a demon. Moro and Okkoto; both rendered lifeless, the Gunwoman with her gun, the Shishi-Gami, the very Spirit of the Forest's head falling down onto the ground. The trees withering before her eyes; the Kodama falling. It all seemed like so long ago, when really it was only a few days.

Ashitaka: He was too kind for his own good. He didn't understand what the situation was: It was either the forest or the humans. She tried to make him understand, she did, but he wouldn't. He said he would help both sides. He dragged the Gunwoman and her straw-hat-man out of the water, and helped them, them, who had killed the forest! And he expected her, the proud protector, the Princess Mononoke, to just…forgive that woman, and help her, as if nothing had happened. She wanted to kill that woman. Kill her. She deserved it. She shot off the head of the Forest Spirit, without a second thought taking away the home of so many living creatures. She killed San's mother. She was nothing but a disgusting, dishonorable, low life creature who knew nothing but how to swing a sword, and to hold a rifle.

But Ashitaka was wiling to help her. Despite everything, he wouldn't leave a creature, even such a low-life one as the Gunwoman, to die.

There wasn't much left of the forest. Time was running short, and he was trying to help the humans. It was an utter sense of betrayal, self-scorn. He was on their side, he was helping humans. And then, to humiliate her, he asked her to help him, and those damn humans. She, would not, under any circumstances help those things, she would rather die. She wished she would. Just to die, freely purely, honorably. But that would be giving up.

She plunged the very dagger he gave her into his chest, feeling it squelch through his body. He didn't recoil in pain, he didn't let go of her, or fight back. He hugged her.

'I tried.'

He did. And so did she. This was their last chance.

And so, she agreed.

The rest she could barely remember: The monster looking for his head, the women of Iron Town, the fighting monk. Then, the grasslands, the death of the Forest Spirit, and the return of the forest. Ashitaka's curse, which she learned later was bestowed upon him in a fight with the demon Nago, was lifted.

And so, they parted ways. And so, a new life began.

Moro was gone. She and her brothers loyally stayed at the place of her death for the whole night. There were no tears, no words, just cold lifeless thoughts. Nothing else.

Ashitaka promised to visit her. He did, and much sooner then she expected. What surprised her more was her own reaction. She was happy to see him, as if he were a brother, or a close friend from childhood. But not quite. It was that feeling, yes, but there was something more. It was that something she had yet to figure out.

And she saw him later, with a woman, gathering dead tree. She couldn't hear them, but they were making exaggerated movements, excitedly talking but something. He didn't see her though. Another strange feeling hit her: A mean pang in her chest. Why was Ashitaka causing all of these strange…feelings?

She shifted in the tree.

And now, she was watching the women in the area under her molding something out of lumps of mud.

She watched one set a mud-thing aside. She realized it looked like her two hands together, when she shaped them to drink water. It probably served the same purpose.

The women were all wearing cloth around their bodies. She herself had it too: In a particularly cold winter, when her leaves (the usual attire), had all shriveled up, she had lost her hide. The hide of Akio, her Grandfather. It had been passed to her, as she herself had no hide, born a naked human child. But she forgot it in a cave (she found it two years later in the same place), and was left cold and shivering. It was stupid of her, and she didn't want to run around naked in the cold for the rest of the winter. Neither did she want to admit she had so carelessly lost her hide, to her mother. So she snuck into Iron Town, stark naked, and stolen the first cloth dress she could find. It was unbelievable ugly, so she cut it, and fashioned something a bit more to her taste. When that grew too short, she stole another one, and put the old one over it. She wouldn't admit it, but she liked her clothing, just like she liked her ugly hands.

She stared down at the women below. They had different clothes on. They were open, and much looser. And they had many different colors. The sight might have been nice if not for the sheer ugliness the women emitted.

They suddenly stopped talking and turned their heads towards another direction. Some ran over to it. San's vision was blocked by a branch, and she didn't want to move and make noise; she decided to wait till the women began talking again, and then shift positions.

The gradual murmur had started up again. She waited a bit till it rose to a louder volume, and then swung down under the branch to get a look.

It was the Gunwoman.

She stood out even more ugly than the rest: tall, deathly pale, with dark circles under her eyes. Ugly. One arm was clutching at her right shoulder, which, San noted with a smirk, abruptly ended there. That was her mother's work, or rather her mother's head's work.

There were three women walking along with the Gunwoman, helping her sit down, do this and that.

San smiled. Pathetic.

Revenge was sweet. She closed her eyes, willing herself to feel that sweetness that satisfaction. She should. She always had before.

But as she looked at the horrid creature, that stupid Gun Woman, she couldn't feel any of the fire she had felt before whenever her eyes had met her hideous vision. The usual burning sensation that would give her the energy to burst through the gates, to leap from to roof, to dodge every wicked bullet they sent at her…it was absent, leaving in it's place an empty crater, where only the cold, howling wind dared roam. No she didn't feel fire.

She felt pain.

She swung from the branch, and out of the tree to go elsewhere, unnoticed by the women.

Revenge was sweet, yes, but only once she got the bitter taste of loss out of her mouth.