By the time she looked up again, the midday suns had risen, and the smell was beginning to draw the larger scavengers. The flying insects where swarming around her, biting her arms and causing rivulets of blood to make spiderwebs along her exposed skin. She scratched absently, shivering as she rose, momentarily amazed at how easily she did so, and with so little pain.
Strange sensations long forgotten.

A distant yowl and yipping closer caused her to hurriedly back away, even more quickly when she saw the glowing eyes peering at her from the forest depths. A shuddered breath as she backed further away, keeping the eyes within sight... Slowly, slowly...
She did not see the lake until she stepped fully into the water at knee depth- the shock of it causing her to fall backwards and fully drench herself in the icy water.
She yelped.
She couldn't help it... and succeeded in inhaling a good bit of the lake. Coughing and sputtering, she launched herself up, frantically splashing to the shore, and huffing like a great beast.

Collapsing on the edge, she regained her composure and her breath, wincing as a cool breeze washed over her, freezing her to the bone. She sighed, gazing at the small hands that rested in her lap... the thin blood-stained tunic over knobby knees, the muddy feet. She swallowed slightly, steeling herself, then leaned over to gaze into her reflection-
- and nearly let out another cry of anguish and horror.
The face staring back at her truly was that of a child. Pre-pubescent, still with the slight chubbiness of cheek of an infant, yet with the promise of maturity... Dried blood matted her wet hair, rivulets of watery red trickling down her forehead and cheek... Across the elegant arch of the Mark.
An absent touch traced it slowly, then hurriedly scraped her palms across her cheeks and face. A flicker into hazel-flecked green eyes, then away. Another surge of nausea as she buried her face in her arms. She could not study the eyes- for the eyes lied. The eyes gave the appearance of agedness...
Because the eyes... were hers.
HERS. Not the child's.

She sat back, her entire body trembling. The urge to protect and shelter the child grew hundredfold. Her responsibility... her curse.
But what is done, is done.
She knew she had to leave this place quickly... for though the Goa'uld forces had left, the planet was not a safe one for either of them.
If she should be found... all would be lost.
The centuries of study... the lives, the culture, the memories... the remnants of beauty and life and a people that should never be forgotten...

A flaming stick and furious yelling drove off the larger scavengers long enough for her to put the broken and obscenely exposed bodies to fire. The child had entirely disappeared now, locked within... cocooned in her pain, fear and confusion. She had no idea if the burning of bodies was now profane to the ways of the Salina, for it had been far too long and traditions changed. But her memories held that it was the way of freeing the spirit to be reborn into the stars... And the act of allowing it to decay with the body would be the ultimate insult and cruelty.
The cold fact that she could not physically hope to bury the entire village,, was, of course, also was a consideration.

She sighed as she watched the flame catch on the tattered clothing, then moved on, a solitary small figure in shredded clothing moving like a wraith among the flames. Inward... ever inward... her torch touching building and body, remaining just long enough to assure it would burn.
At the last house, she paused, then entered.
An odd familiarity struck her, her eyes darkening slightly as she scanned the room. Thoughts of an older man, and younger woman... Both tattooed and wide of eye...
Ai'so... and Masai..
The memory hit her hard, of herself a hundred year or more ago, as she instructed in the Teachings and Prophesies, the Signs and Portents to watch for...
A surge of agony twisted her heart at the result.
They had not heard.. had not listened... had not remembered...
And now, she had once more failed.

She picked up a long, golden-brown robe, running the fine fabric between her fingers, then gripped it hard before turning away, setting the table aflame. Her face was hard and eyes pained as she moved around the room, lighting all on fire, halting only briefly to retrieve a single, thick book from the hidden alcove beneath the fireplace.

Moments later, she was walking out of the conflagration, dressed in the golden robe, one fist holding the wad of trailing fabric from above her bare feet, the other supporting the pouch holding her books and items, her eyes set steadfastly on the Chappa'ai.
She did not... could not... look back.
What once was, was no longer... and never shall be again.