Wolf RPG

unwanted. not enough. 

her breath comes ragged at the girl lopes up the mountain, climbing the slope with a speed she'd never managed to reach. something familiar burns through her veins, draws taunt her muscles and carves deeply into the contours of her face. it had been exhausting, carrying it with her in her youth. she'd tried to forgive, to let it fade. 

but she is older, now, and wiser. enough to know the overwhelming magnitude of the things she knows now; the woman who had borne her into this world had not done so out of love, that she was not a daughter, but an object. that she had expended whatever value had been placed on her and then abandoned, and orphaned. the woman who'd birthed her had returned, then, and made no mention of her. 

she lived only because of someone who was entirely apathetic about her existence.

 

Hydra followed Isilme's trail; she was hot on it, but she hung back, giving the other space if she so desired it. Still, Hydra wanted to be there. What helped her did not always help others, but she hardly thought of that then; she thought of what Isilme had heard, and perhaps how she had felt. A hot bolt of anger lanced through her heart as she thought of the root of this all. 

The matriarch would teach Isilme to vent her frustrations out properly, though now hardly felt the time to do so. The young girl was in her line of sight now; Hydra remained in the backdrop, long-legged strides taking her around to simply get in the young she-wolfs peripheral. Her posture was relaxed, and her ears cupped forward as she invited the girl to her side with a gesture, leaving it up to the young wolf to join her or drift deeper into the territory to be alone, if that was what she needed in that moment.

she is not alone, despite how much she wants to be. she teeters on the edge of a downward spiral, and longs to tip into it entirely. perhaps she already has. 

but then her frantic gaze settled on hydra, and she stills, panting. distress is evident in roaming gaze and the tension that radiates from her, and she dearly wants to ascend the mountain, see how high she can get before there's no air left and she comes tumbling back down. 

but ultimately the ivory yearling obeys the simple gesture, moving to fall into stride beside the queen. her mind reels, thoughts running rampant. "you saw," she guesses, auds pressed tightly forward, footfalls stiff.

Hydra nodded to the guess, not one to evade or ignore the truth, and guesses herself: you heard, though as to the extent of what she had listened to, the matriarch did not know. Enough for it to matter; enough for it to clearly hurt. It was all but evident by her bearing, and Hydra rumbled. This was the girls mother. Life-bringer, life-destroyer. Hydra was here to rebuild. 

But first, the falling apart. Life can be cruel; it can bring unfair, unjust hurts. I am no good with dealing with things with words, she admitted; she is not made to comfort, nor equipped to do so. Being present is her best attempt at doing such a thing. I am no healer. Not in any capacity, it seemed, her low tones all but said.  I am but a warrior. Whoever hurts me, I hurt back, she drawled, tail lashing behind her. I will never hurt the same as you do, Isilme, but I am with you. That woman is unwelcome here for her hurt of you. And Hydra would hurt her, over and over and over and over again, if she returned to do more damage; unwitting or not, Hydra would not have it. As best she could, Hydra would protect her from the damage Andraste's foolishness caused.

life has been nothing but upheaval, interrupted only occasionally by flashes of warmth and happiness. it has brought far too many cruelties, and the girl can feel herself stretched thin at the seams. but among the queens words, there is one phrase she grasps for, desperately. whoever hurts me, I hurt back.

that old anger is returning, threatening to overwhelm. there is fierce gratitude for hydra's affirmation, but that is one emotion she can not express, not now. she hates, burns, but finds it directed just as much toward her as the woman on the borders. "I want to hurt her. I want to kill her." she vows, breath still coming fast. she wants to hurt herself. she wants to hurt just as much as the looming realizations tear her apart, but to admit that feels wrong. weak. she wants to know why; why a woman would bring life into the world only to abandon it. she wants to know why she's failed to gain her mother's love. but she is just as terrible at articulating this as Hydra admits she herself is. and so she settles for her vow.

Hydra listens to Isilme; her heart does not warm to hear the words spoken, but if one listened closely enough, one could deduce that the two hearts beat then as one. Hydra knew it would not make the girl feel any better for her to say, I hope you are able to; the woman is a fool, and such wolves often die early. Some, though, impossibly survive. Perhaps Isilme would be lucky enough to be the one to fell her, Dragomir along with her; she knew he desired it, too. 

In any case, Hydra pressed forward, pushing through a snow-drift and heading toward a rocky cliff-face. You and I will begin training once you work through this; some think emotions fuel a fight. Emotions will only exhaust you in them; skill is what causes one to win, in the end, came her first, albeit brief, lesson; her eyes turned to Isilme. I will be here; and I will not leave you behind, if it is any comfort, she expresses in earnest. Perhaps not, but she was trying; Hydra was terrible at it, but it was her best.

the woman's words are heard, barely, above the growing din. but they are heard, and recognized. to feel her mother die beneath her grip; it is something she can not imagine. but she wants it none the less. she wants her dead, gone, and if not by her fangs, then who's? 

"okay." she accepts, gaze roving to meet the queen's for only a moment. I will be here. "thank you." soft, careful. for a moment, she wavers, but ultimately she veers away, needing desperately, suddenly, to be alone.

 

Hydra nods to the young girl, watching her go and making no move to follow. She understood the need to work through this however she might; Hydra would not disallow her the time alone that she clearly needed. She watched her go for but a moment before she turned, then, to find Kukutux as she had said she would; her pace was slow, knowing that Arcturus might be with her for a time and wanting to work through the days events herself along the way.