She did not like her children anymore

NOTES: in which Silverpelt is the primogenitor of clan cat life

When Silverpelt created felinekind, she gave them the impenetrable love of a mother. She would set her crying children down by the river when the water did not yet know what it meant to surge or to splash or to swell. She would bestow upon her Most Beloved Creation an impregnable nest of God's Grace and Glory and the river would gently ripple and wane to lull her children to sleep. Under her perfect night sky, she would suckle her children and run her tail down their heads, their flanks, and as long as the forest stood so peaceably and her Creation slept so soundly, she decided that everything would be fine for the seasons to come.  

But instead her children rebelled. They decided that they were too good for their mother, that they would be Mothers and Fathers bestowing their own grace and glory. But Silverpelt forgave them, because one day they would again realize that without her there would be no them.  

But they did not, until it was far too late. Instead her children went on to create great Clans and great discord. Her Most Beloved Creation had ravaged her peaceful forests with war and gluttony and sin. The sky would always cloud as she howled at them thunderous, earth-shaking cries to stop and wept tears of rainwater when her children's blood, her blood, had been spilled from slaughter.  

They tear away from her, and Silverpelt hates it when they tear away from her because they stop suckling, clamp down with their teeth, and pull. It turns her nest of God's Grace and Glory red, the color of hatred and pain and rebellion, the color that she hated, and it left her all alone in her home of stardust and moonlight to experience a blinding, searing pain that no god should ever know.  

When her Most Beloved Creation tears away from her and wreaks havoc on her world below, Silverpelt decides that she no longer likes her children, a bunch of ungrateful little things who were happy to grind grace and glory into the bones of a long-dead, rotting, worthless skeleton, just as long as they got what they wanted in the end. Silverpelt had no children. Silverpelt never had children. 

But still Silverpelt weeps for her Most Beloved Creation to return to her nest of unconsciousness and safety when raindrops fall from the heavens.