We meet Rayla, Runaan, and Tinker in this chapter! Because we don't know Tinker's real name I had to improvise by naming him Tide, but in the following chapter Rayla will start calling him Tinker just to clear things up. I have an abundance of hate for flashbacks but this was the only easy way to explain Rayla's past. The majority of the next chapter will take place in real time, though!

Useful fun facts: Ceannard is equivalent to "leader" and leas-cheannard is equivalent to "deputy" in Scottish Gaelic.

(Also, I headcanon that Rayla's father had the strongest Scottish accent ever and therefore Rayla's accent might be more prominent in this AU, especially when she gets emotional.)

Being this close to her was leaving Rayla unsound after so many years of distance. The girl squared her shoulders in a fragmented attempt at assurance. How many years had it been? Six? Seven? Somewhere between there was the answer.

The woman Rayla was gazing at was beyond sickly, but there were people here taking care of her. Trying to, at least. Despite her state of mind, she was in good hands.

Her once lush, gleaming white hair was now gray and short at her neck. Multiple split ends could be seen from where Rayla was standing. Even the woman's eyes looked dark and dull. Everything about her was gray, in a sense. Other women were surrounding her, giving fleeting attempts to try and include her in their conversations, but to no avail.

Lost in her own world, her unforgotten memories, the woman failed to notice everything around her. Including her daughter.

Rayla's mother had never recovered from her husband's death.

All those years ago, it was a larceny that had gone wrong. Rayla's father had placed himself in the middle of it.

Like she was there again, Rayla's eyes widened in an unfledged way. Her breathing curbed and she clutched the handle of her blades for further reassurance. Rayla stormed away before the women around her mother could recognize her, but it was too late. The memories she continually tried to bottle up began to play out in her head.

When a family friend had begun breaking the news that there had been a robbery to Rayla and her ma, Rayla had been only eight years old. Almost too young to see the world for what it truly was.

Almost.

She'd started to unconsciously put the pieces together before more words were spoken. Imagining her da sacrificing himself, unnerved and unafraid. Sure of his decision as he shot in front of the line of fire to protect someone who had no means of protecting themselves. Sure that it was the right thing to do. All those years ago, Rayla had looked up at her teary-eyed ma, knowing that they could both forgive him if that was the case.

But that wasn't what happened.

As Rayla's ma held a shaky hand to her mouth, Rayla learned the truth. Her da had died a coward. He'd been the only fatality of the robbery. Yes, he had shot out into the line of fire, but not to save the life of someone else. Instead he'd gotten caught in the crossfire because he'd tried to run. To flee the spurious danger, to save his life and only his. He'd been too scared to defend the rest of the people around him, too afraid to even hold his ground.

One of the robbers had acted without thinking. War had taught that criminal that his first reaction should always be to attack. War had taught Rayla's da that his first reaction should always be to run.

Frenzied panic had taken hold of the rest of the hostages after that. Screaming and crying, desperate and delusional, they fought back. They staggered to overwhelm the three bandits and once townsfolk and Peacekeepers caught sound of the ruckus, they were thrown behind bars.

Rayla's ma had collapsed to the ground when she learned this, heaving and crying like someone had taken the air from her lungs. In the present, late at night when sleep refused to come, Rayla still heard her ma's cries. The only remembrance of her voice she had left. Those sorrows would never be forgotten, no matter how hard Rayla fought to push them down.

Her ma had been too distraught to not allow Rayla to attend the hanging that took place the next day. Too youthful and too numb, Rayla watched the robber's feet swing for taking her da's life.

Maybe shock had enveloped Rayla the moment she'd heard that her da had been killed and she'd never been the same. Maybe it took a murder for her to realize how heartless she truly was. But she found herself feeling shame at her father's funeral. Going so far as to feel contrition for the robbers.

Those bandits were like everyone else in District 12: they were only trying to survive. The cries and bellows that left their lips as they claimed that they had never planned to take a life forever rang between her ears. They'd never planned to kill anyone. Her da had done this to himself.

So Rayla never forgave him for it and her ma never recovered from it.

Days got longer after his death. Darker. Grief proved to be more dangerous than anything else Rayla could have feared. It glazed over her ma's eyes and demanded all of her attention, leaving Rayla alone in a lean-to that seemed far too big for two people. With her ma away inside her mind all the time, Rayla spent the coming months hungry and cold. Aching for attention. Aching for the only parent she had left.

There was no reprieve.

In the end, Rayla came to terms with the fact that her ma would never come to terms with what happened. Rayla didn't save herself, but an uncle she'd barely known did. Her ma's brother, Runaan, stood by her side at her father's funeral. And that day, while trying to distract herself from the shame staining her cheeks, Rayla had focused all of her attention on Runaan.

"Why don't you live in town?" she had whispered to him.

Runaan gave Rayla a quizzical look. "Your mother never told you why?"

"She says that you live in the woods with the rest of your pack. Is that true? Is that why we never see ye?"

At the time, Rayla wasn't able to see that Runaan was trying to hold back laughter. "Yes, it's true that we live in the forest, but we aren't as churlish as you might think, Rayla. We don't refer to ourselves as a pack, but as Kin."

"Do you accept Peacekeepers into your Kin?"

"No."

"Then how can you and your Kin live out in the woods alone? That's what ma told me, anyway. Ye all live in tents and don't have to follow the Peacekeepers' rules."

"That's not true," Runaan had said, maybe a bit too quickly and a bit too quietly. "We don't depend on the Peacekeepers and district as you and your mother do. We are solely responsible for ourselves. We aren't bound to District Twelve as everyone else here. Because of that, Peacekeepers don't have to . . . provide us with the safety that they provide you with."

"Couldn't I do that?" Rayla had asked, tugging on Runaan's arm. "Maybe fresh air would make ma feel better. We could live with you and your Kin until she gets better. Please? It's so borin' in town and-"

"Rayla," Runaan had snapped, his glare mirroring his sister's. Somehow Rayla had felt comfort in that, though. It had been too long since her ma had shown any emotion. Finding a familiar face in this outsider gave her a sense of comfort. Even if the expression she saw was a negative one.

"We have a different way of life. You and your mother have grown up within the district, there's no need to leave what you have. People don't want to join our Kin."

"Then why did you want to join? Ye weren't born as Kin, I ken that. Ma told me stories about you two growin' up together."

"My way of life is just different from your district's."

Rayla hadn't gotten much more information out of her uncle that day. But as the sun dipped below the horizon, Runaan had promised Rayla that he would be back soon to check on her and her ma.

A couple of months later, Runaan stopped by with enough food to last Rayla and her ma for days. Not everyone in District Twelve was this lucky, but Rayla's ma didn't seem to notice her fortune.

Rayla, however, noticed the Kin that her uncle had brought with him.

Aside from Runaan stood two other Kin, a man and a woman. They all bore markings Rayla had never seen before, shades of purple streaking across their faces, each pattern different. Runaan was wearing an especially unique pattern. There was a full blue circle in the middle of his forehead and two long purple lines painted across his cheeks and nose, with the ends pointed upwards towards his eyes. Nobody else wore the color blue. He must have seen Rayla staring, because he chuckled and motioned to his face.

"I don't believe you've ever seen my emblems before," he said fondly.

"I havenae. What do they mean? Why are yours blue and purple?" Rayla had asked. Reaching up to touch her own face as if she also bore these Kins' emblems, a smile played on her lips for the first time in days.

"I am Ceannard of my Kin. People are able to see this by the blue circle above my eyes. The purple paintings you see are the ones I earned when I became Kin."

"Ceannard? Really?"

"Leader, yes," the Kin woman told Rayla with a smile.

"How come I didn't know you were leader?" Rayla demanded.

"It's not important to you, Rayla. You aren't Kin. I'm not your leader."

Everything he had said was true, but his reposeful voice and dismissive words struck a nerve within Rayla. She found herself wishing she was Kin. Wishing she could learn whatever Runaan had learned to make him Ceannard. Most of all, wishing she wasn't stuck in the district, that she could have somewhere that she belonged again.

"These are a couple of my highly regarded Kin," Runaan went on, motioning to the two new strangers.

Something Rayla had noticed about Runaan's Kin was that they all had long hair. Notably Runaan. Most people in District 12 had shorter hair. Women often cut their strands at their shoulder blades so they wouldn't have to bother tying it up while they worked. Men let their beards grow out, but the hair on their head hair never went past their shoulders.

These Kin all had hair well past what was deemed as acceptable in District 12. The woman's dark hair swayed at her elbows and fell short near the hem of her shirt. The man's hair hung to the base of his neck, but some strands were longer than others, reaching down to his shoulders.

Runaan's hair appeared to be the longest of them all. Rayla had disregarded this at first, but with his Kin around him, she perceived that this must be standard in his Kin. His hair was even paler than Rayla's ma's hair. Thick tendrils in the front swept below his collarbones and the rest of his hair lengthened beyond the small of his back. Rayla didn't think her ma had ever had hair that long. Nobody in District 12 did.

"Dhara, our Kin's Leas-Cheannard," Runaan said, smiling at the woman beside him. "And Tide, my husband," he continued, beckoning to the male Kin beside himself.

Rayla saw them intertwine their hands and felt a pang of grief she hadn't experienced before. Runaan and Tide gazed at each other the same way Rayla's parents had looked at each other. All esteemed and affectionate and trusting. Runaan looked so much like her ma, and Tide had a modest air about him that reminded Rayla of her da. She knew she would never see love like this blossom between her parents again. Her ma wasn't even fitted to show love to Rayla anymore.

Trying to rid herself of those revelations, Rayla glanced down at the couple's hands and frowned.

"Where are your rings?"

"Kin don't wear rings. They're often misplaced on missions," Tide responded with an amused smile. He pointed below his left collarbone. "To signify our matrimony, we mark emblems over our hearts."

Rayla saw Runaan nodding his head before he tugged his vest to the side, revealing circular purple designs covering the left of his chest.

"They're tattoos," Rayla thought aloud.

"Why, yes of course," Runaan chuckled. "Peacekeepers have allowed only Kin to bare them in District Twelve."

"How come I didn't see them on you at my da's funeral? Or any other time I've seen ye?"

"I covered them up," Runaan explained. "Not everyone in the district appreciates their meanings. I didn't want to burden you and your mother further with any tensions that might arise."

Rayla was quiet for a moment. "Does each tattoo have a different meanin'?"

All three Kin nodded. They smiled at each other before tucking tendrils of hair behind their ears, displaying their emblems clearly.

Dhara had sharply-edged patterns beneath her eyes. They reminded Rayla of triangles, pointing towards the Kin's temples. The base of them stuck out a bit, resembling the end of a rectangle.

"I'm a sharp shot with a bow and arrow," the woman said with a grin. "I make some pretty mean arrowheads as well, so my emblems resemble the shape."

Rayla found herself smiling. She turned to Tide, who had wide, broad circular patterns over his cheeks. When she looked closer, Rayla saw that they were made up of smaller circles, some of which deviated from the large circle in fine-pointed flares.

"I make stuff," Tide announced happily. "So my tattoos stray from each other, showing my ability to create something new with what is already possessed."

"What about yours?" Rayla asked Runaan. "Aside from the blue moon on your head."

Runaan laughed at that. He ran his free hand beneath his eyes and atop the bridge of his nose. "I wasn't born Kin, so my tattoos don't represent my youth." He pointed to the streak of purple closest to his eyes, then to the thinner one below it. "Some people see two lines, but my Kin only see one."

"The wee line that the two purple bands make up?" Rayla asked.

That earned her a grin from Runaan.

Dhara comically shouldered him. "That's a smart niece you've got, Runaan," she chuckled. Rayla beamed as the woman winked at her.

"I'm not entirely sure what my emblems mean," Runaan admitted. "Perhaps the smaller one represents my life before I became Kin and the bigger one represents my life after I was accepted as Kin. Do you see how it's broader? Fuller? With my Kin, I do believe I am living my life to the fullest."

"I personally believe those two lines represent Runaan and me," Tide chimed. His eyes were bright with merriment. "The line that the two forms represents us."

"Oh," Rayla said, chuckling as if that was the genuine answer. "What do you think mine would look like?"

For the better of a second Runaan had halted, narrowing his eyes like he was visualizing an answer. But then he shook his head and smiled cautiously. "Whatever you imagine them to be, Rayla."

Sometime later, Runaan and Tide ventured to Rayla's mother. Rayla recalled hearing the Kins' voices that visit, but her ma's voice rarely sounded. Dwelling wasn't her style though, so she didn't bother to. Meanwhile, Dhara presented Rayla with a few of the arrowheads she kept in her satchel. A sense of awe circulated from Rayla as she was shown how they had been formed from thin stones. Dhara went on to tell her about the deer she had hunted, how she had stalked it and prepared the meat after she shot it.

Too soon, though, the Kin had to return to their camp. Rayla hugged them all tightly as they stood beside the doorway. Her ma only whispered her goodbyes.

"When will ye be back?" Rayla had whined.

Glancing at Runaan, Tide had smiled. "Soon, we promise."

Next time they visited, Rayla was nine and old enough to realize that when they left, she and her ma needed to go with them. Her ma was in no mind to care for herself anymore, much less Rayla. Fall was barely a month away and winter would surely kill them both. They both needed attention. Better care. More food.

Rayla spent the first couple months of her ninth year tired and fraught. Anyone who looked close enough could see that she was near her breaking point.

Night after night she would talk at her ma, rambling about things she had busied herself doing throughout the day. When she received little to no responses, Rayla would move on to whispering about her emotions. How alone she felt. Like there was something missing in her life. The hope that was dwindling inside her.

Every night her ma would stare out of the window of their lean-to, a blank expression shadowing her face. Sometimes she would look at Rayla and smile sadly, offer empty words of wisdom. More times than not, she would gather herself up and slip into bed once Rayla had run out of things to say. Hours later, Rayla would crawl into bed beside her, burrowing into her mother and wrapping her arms around herself. Her ma didn't seem to have the strength to do it herself anymore.

District 12 was not a ruthless place. Most people cared deeply for one another. They were all they had. If that hadn't been the case, Rayla and her ma surely would have lost their home within the first month of Rayla's da's death. But people saw how much the surviving family was struggling. They helped in the only ways they could afford: keeping a roof above their heads. Nobody could spare enough food or clothing, though. And medicine was a blessing that Rayla's family had rarely ever received.

As her ma's mind faded, Rayla felt herself growing weak.

Weak due to the emotional turmoil that she had to endure every day, but especially weak because of the lack of nutrients given to her. At night, to calm her stomach, she would drink as much water as she was able to get a hold of. Feigning the feeling of being full, Rayla would only then be able to drift off into sleep. In the mornings she would get up solely because it was her job to get her mother up. Routine was all she could depend on.

Rayla's head would be cloudy for a majority of the day. Her hands and feet went numb often and most of her movements appeared sedated, absent of vitality. It wasn't worth it to make the trek outside anymore. The sun's rays could warm her from inside her home. Nothing more was needed. Nothing more could be endowed.

Not until Runaan's second visit, at least.

In spite of being family, Runaan had a routine of knocking on the door of Rayla's home and waiting for someone to let him in before entering. Maybe he wasn't used to anything but tents, Rayla had figured. Nobody else in the district bothered to knock. They just walked in.

It took the better of a minute for Rayla to drag herself out of bed and stumble to the door. Scarcity of food made her depth perception faint. Through the dark spots swarming her vision, everything looked one-dimensional and blurry. But the moment she saw Runaan, her world grew bright again.

"Runaan! Tide!" she cried happily. As they walked through the doorway, Rayla poked her head between them and pouted. "Where's Dhara?"

When she glanced back up at her uncles, she saw them both frowning at her.

"What?"

"Dhara's leading a hunt," Runaan told her. He crouched down to her level while Tide closed the door behind them. "You're not looking too good, Rayla. Where's your mother?"

"In bed still, see?" She pointed to the bundle of blankets atop their mattress. Runaan slipped one of his satchels off of his shoulder and handed it to Tide before making his way to his sister.

"Hungry?" Tide had asked, opening the satchel and pulling out fruits that Rayla seldom saw. "We brought some food. Not as much as last time, I'm afraid."

"That's okay!" Rayla chirped, peering into Tide's hands. "Blueberries? Strawberries?" the girl speculated. "Can I have some?"

"Of course!" Tide laughed, pouring a handful into her grasp.

Rare, sweet and summery flavors burst over her tongue at the first bite. Juice dribbled down her chin and seeds wedged between her teeth but Rayla didn't mind. Giggles ensued when she saw that Tide had looked the same as her.

"Is there more?" Rayla couldn't help but ask.

"Vegetables," Tide answered while rummaging through the satchel. "You like carrots right?"

"A lot!"

The following stretch of time was spent with Rayla and Tide sprawled out amongst more food than Rayla had eaten in days. Rayla ate until she nearly bloated, forcing Tide to pace her to the best of his ability.

"Rayla?"

Rayla turned to her ma's voice and simpered when she saw her standing beside Runaan. "Aye, ma?"

"Go play outside for a bit. Your uncles and I need to talk."

Before she could respond, Tide handed Rayla the satchel and smiled in a heartening manner, shooing her out the door.

Inside the satchel was a vile of vibrant colored juice, small loaves of bread, seasoned jerky, and more herbs than Rayla could name. She sampled everything but the herbs. Beyond the nutriments were trinkets that Rayla hadn't seen before.

Most of them appeared to be children's toys. There was a small wooden horse with wheels instead of hooves, a round rock with markings on it that made it resemble a bird, and a doll made out of cornhusks. Even a slingshot, one of Dhara's arrowheads, and tiny, people-shaped figurines could be found at the very bottom of the duffel. She spread everything out on the dirt road in front of her home and busied herself with play until Tide called her back inside.

Her mother was sitting on one of the chairs in the kitchen and Runaan was seated beside her. Her ma's expression was unreadable, but it wasn't blank, for once. Rayla grinned and clambered over to her, crawling onto her lap and showing her Dhara's arrowhead from the satchel. Everyone else was quiet, though. Only Tide smiled at her, and after a fleeting moment, it receded into a worried frown in her mother's direction.

"Rayla," Runaan began gently. "You have expressed thoughts of becoming Kin before. If you were given the chance, would you take it?"

Rayla wasn't sure if she'd heard him correctly. She looked up at her ma, who was staring straight ahead. Her jaw was set and her hands were at her sides, resting on the seat of her chair instead of on Rayla.

"I'd really like to," Rayla admitted. There was a long pause before Rayla said what everyone was thinking. "Would ma come with, too?"

Another pause.

"No," Runaan said, barely a whisper. "It's better for her here."

"Yes, Rayla," Rayla heard her ma say. "It's time for you to go."

"Go?" Rayla echoed. She was staring up at her ma now, but again, derived no reprieve. "I don't want to leave ye, ma. I don't want to leave if that's-"

"You must," was all her mother said. Her voice was flat. "You know it's better this way."

She had moved her hands to Rayla's shoulders then, squeezing her arms gently and then guiding her to the floor. Rayla's ma stood up and gathered a small heap of Rayla's clothes from the bed, piling them into a satchel that Runaan was holding open.

"I dinnae care if it's better this way, though," Rayla pronounced. Tide made his way over to her, standing beside Rayla as a wordless act of solace. Her mother didn't seem to hear her. "Ma? Ma! I dinnae want to leave. Why can't ye come with me?"

"Rayla," her ma had all but hissed, whipping around and staring at her daughter with an expression Rayla couldn't read. "You know better than this. Go with your uncles. Now."

So Rayla had obeyed. Too youthful and too numb, lacking the understanding as to why she was leaving without her ma and lacking the goodbye from her mother she had hoped for, Rayla obeyed. When her ma made it clear that emotions still would not be shown on her end, Rayla stormed off and didn't look back.

That was the day she realized that both of her parents were cowards.

That day she decided she would never look back again.

So now, nearly seven years later, Rayla was all but fuming as she ambled further into her old town. Furious that she had allowed her mind to wander this far. Distraught that she couldn't just forget about that part of her life.

Because she couldn't afford to keep reliving her youth every time it crossed her mind.

Her mission was top priority now. Her Kin needed her. Runaan needed her now more than ever.

Rayla couldn't look back anymore. Not now, not at a time like this.