Moonspear informal disco

AS PER UR OOC NOTE, force-threading u @Galaxy

Hydra followed her little sisters scent, thick rabbit in tow. The girl was now to the point of being, well, too skinny. There was such a thing as that, and Galaxy was getting there. She idly remembered her sister asking her if her head was fat—did that have to do with this? Was Galaxy so weak that she'd let anothers words control her entire life? That was how Hydra saw it, anyway; she was not very sensitive to others and their woes. But Galaxy was her sister, and Hydra cared for her despite her blatant display of "caring too much about the opinions of others". 

Galaxy's scent was stronger, and Hydra picked up the pace. Her step was quite deliberate, and her eyes were sharp as they sought her hue among mountain stone.

It rained early in the day, leaving the world shiny and wet. Galaxy waited it out beneath her favorite spruce, then emerged once the shower passed. She made her way to the same stream her mother had shown her recently, dipping her slender muzzle down for a drink. As she lapped, the water rippled, distorting her reflection. But when she withdrew to lick the moisture from her chops, she found herself gazing into her own mismatched eyes, which looked very bright against the backdrop of her startlingly sunken face.

Before she could think of how to react to the image, footsteps caused Galaxy to turn her head. When a lithe black she-wolf appeared, the pup squinted and tipped her snout to draw in a scent. "Hi, Hydra," she said once she made an identification, her tail lowering and wiggling slightly. When she noticed the food, her tail slowed, then stopped.

Galaxy had grown, but also with that she had shrunk. It was pretty clear how unhealthy she looked, but Hydra did not think her too far gone yet. She was certain her mother and father were putting food before her... they had always been diligent parents, after all. Hydra dropped the rabbit and nosed it toward Galaxy, rolling her shoulders. Hey, Axe. I really don't know what's going on with you—but you're too scrawny. It doesn't look good. And it definitely isn't healthy. Does this have to do with you thinking you have a "fat head"? Hydra squinted. She had never been the most eloquent, but she was best at being direct and getting to the point. Actually, as Hydra studied her now, her head did look awfully big in comparison to the rest of her lean frame...

The comment on her appearance made Galaxy flinch slightly. Hydra said it in a very condemning tone, yet scrawny was preferable to fat, wasn't it? Her sister's use of that word—"fat"—made her jerk again, more visibly. Her lips pursed as she considered her elder sibling's words. She glanced sideways at the water again, thinking of her almost skeletal face.

But even having seen it for herself, Galaxy could only shrug in response. She had barely spoken to Vela ever since overhearing her trash talk that day. The words lingered in her head to this day, although their influence had begun to fade as the relationship between the two sisters dwindled down into nothing. As they became more and more disenfranchised, Vela's opinion seemed less important.

"I guess not anymore," she whispered.

Not anymore, she echoed, moving to sit down neatly. Her tail wrapped around her haunch and she tilted her head. Then what? Why haven't you been eating? Hydra was critical, but only because she cared. She really could not understand why Galaxy wasn't eating. Hydra could go some time between eating meals, as a wolf, but that meant when food was got, she needed to eat. You know what could happen to you if you stop eating? Hydra felt angry with the situation, because she did not know how to handle it—but thus far she sounded calm and collected. You could get seriously hurt, Galaxy. You could die. She knew how that would make her parents feel of course; they all had already thought they had lost Galaxy once, and that had been pretty miserable.

Galaxy shrank away from Hydra when her sister spoke brusquely to her. She had only just seen her reflection for the first time in a while, yet somehow she didn't think this response would appease the Beta. Feeling as if she had unwittingly done something very wrong, she sank to the ground and put her head between her paws, making herself as low and small as physically possible.

The youth didn't know much about health or how her near-starvation might affect her beyond making her thinner. When Hydra spoke of death, the youngster's (empty) stomach flipped uncomfortably but still she said nothing. She didn't know the words to describe her head space. Galaxy couldn't even really explain her eating disorder to herself, much less someone else.

"Am I in trouble?" she asked feebly.

Hydra found herself half-appeased, half-annoyed by Galaxy's shrinking. She exhaled heavily at her sisters question. Only if you keep not eating, she decided, now pushing the rabbit toward Galaxy and looking at her expectantly. I want to know why, though. I want to know why you haven't been eating. She pressed this issue, ears cupping forward. Hydra did not think anyone capable of making a wolf stop eating; they needed to survive, after all, and eating equaled survival. 

The Beta certainly did not know the first thing about eating disorders, or how to deal with them. Hydra only wanted Galaxy to start eating again. Really, she was not sure even how to get that going.

Her heart thumped uneasily in her chest as she was faced with a difficult choice: eat (and risk getting fat again) or refuse to eat (and piss off Hydra, and likely others). Galaxy swallowed. Hydra was demanding answers she didn't have. The puppy didn't know what else to do but roll onto her side, exposing her (barely there) belly in a show of utmost apology and submission.

Her fear of displeasing her sister was so great that when she noticed the dead rabbit again, she instinctively darted forward to take a bite. She didn't think as she chewed, just stared up at her sister, hoping this would get her out of the proverbial doghouse.

Hydra squinted at Galaxy, who refused to answer her. This annoyed her, but again Galaxy balanced it out by taking a bite out of the rabbit. Hydra remained settled, nodding and encouraging her to rinse and repeat, in essence. I'll be watching you, Axe. You need to be eating, she licked her chops. She would have her mirror images on it, too. I'm not the only one who has noticed this, I'm sure mom and dad have too. You'll worry everyone around you if you don't take care of yourself, and winter is coming, where food is crucial—you can't let what is given to you now go to waste. The resources were for the puppies, after all.

Something strange happened when Galaxy sank her teeth into the meat. At first, she intended to only take a small bite and chew it lengthily, as she had become accustomed to doing. But, suddenly, she pictured the dead rabbit as Vela. She felt a rush of anger course through her, so uncharacteristic for the chipper child. She growled and opened her jaws wider, tearing off a large hunk and swallowing it whole. Then she did it again. And again. Until the rabbit—and her sister's ugly words—was nothing but a memory.

It was her first square meal in weeks, and Galaxy's system couldn't quite handle it. Even as she swallowed her last bite, it came rushing up her throat. She jumped to her feet as she vomited on the grass beside the stream. Perhaps half of what she'd eaten now lay in a pile of mush. She fleetingly considered eating it right back up again, but her stomach rolled in protest.

Licking her sour chops, Galaxy instinctively turned to take a cleansing drink instead, though that just came right back out as well. She made a loud gagging noise as the water splashed back into the stream. She didn't know what to do now, so she flopped onto her haunches and looked beseechingly at Hydra.

Galaxy ate with verve, suddenly, which pleased Hydra. But she got sick quickly after. Hydra frowned. Okay, I guess you go back into this eating thing a bit slowly. Too much too soon looks... bad. We'll get you there, she nodded sagely. She imagined Lyra might have some idea of what exactly the right thing to do was given she was working towards a medicine woman trade. Have you thought more on our other conversation? On what you want to maybe someday do?

Hydra seemed placated, at last. Galaxy felt nearly lightheaded with relief. Perhaps that had to do with the puking as well. A few deep, steadying breaths helped settle her insides. The food felt strangely heavy in her belly, and there was a small alarm bell ringing in the back of her head. But the pup ignored it.

Just because she'd eaten didn't mean she was off the hook. Hydra spoke about getting her back into the swing of eating properly and regularly, which Galaxy chose to ignore for now. Then her elder sister pressed her about her trades. Her white ears folded uncertainly.

"I'm going to be an astronomer, like daddy and Korei," she said. She was already a qualified stargazer, with yesterday's eclipse really solidifying the youngster's interest in stars both large and small. She said nothing more, though she shifted a little, anticipating Hydra's next question.

Hydra listened to Galaxy, and nodded to her words. As she nodded, she felt several things click into place. Galaxy's constitution did seem a lot like Korei's... to confirm her suspicions, Hydra inquired, have you been hanging out with Korei a lot then? She certainly seemed to act a lot like Korei, lately. Not brave, but shy and meek and, well, kind of sad. But Hydra cast none of this judgment externally to Galaxy yet. There was still some hope of her being cool and normal... Hydra hoped she hung out with their father more than Korei.

That wasn't the question she'd been expecting, so Galaxy was stumped for a second. She thought about it for a moment, then shrugged and said, "Um, not a lot." She had no idea that Hydra might disapprove, so her tone was a little disappointed. Truthfully, she wouldn't mind spending more time with her pale elder sister, even if Hydra was her favorite (despite today's brusqueness).

"Do you like looking at the stars?" she wondered. Somehow, she didn't think so, but it wouldn't be the first time Hydra took her by surprise.

Not a lot. So there was still a chance of redemption, here. The disappointment was missed by the typically perceptive Hydra, who revealed none of her thoughts. Dad knows the most about the stars. He is the best to learn from, she had never learned from Korei herself, but she could not imagine Korei being very bright... but perhaps she was good with the stars. Still, Hydra worried about her poor self-esteem and attitude rubbing onto Galaxy. 

Yeah, Hydra admitted. They're very good to know about, and their stories are interesting. There is one star up there that's good to know about in case you ever can't find your direction—the North star. Have you heard about that one yet? Stars weren't her passion, but nature intrigued her, and the stars had their importance.

Hydra stressed that she should look to their father in particular for guidance, to which the child nodded. She didn't read between the lines or pick up on Hydra's indirect disapproval of Korei, though something about the way Hydra spoke reminded her of the time Korei had cautioned her not too ask too many questions of Charon. The sisters' advice seemed to conflict each other a bit, though Galaxy didn't mention it.

Truthfully, she couldn't quite recall if she knew about the North Star, though it sounded vaguely familiar. "I think so," Galaxy replied, "but can you tell me more about it?" As she spoke, her stomach suddenly gurgled very audibly. She didn't feel hungry or sick, so she tipped her head quizzically at the noise.

Hydra looked thoughtful at her sisters question. I can show you better than I can tell you, she said after a beat. Maybe tonight, if you want to, she offered, brows lifting. When her sisters stomach gurgled, Hydra could not think of why—maybe she was still hungry, even if she did not recognize it, or maybe she was digesting. The girl was honestly no expert. Make sure you eat some more today, she thought to say.

She felt a pang of disappointment about the delay, though she nodded, still eager to hear whatever Hydra wanted to tell her about the North Star. Both of them sort of froze at the sounds coming from Galaxy's stomach, though thankfully her sister didn't attempt to force more food on her.

Suddenly, Galaxy thought of her recent conversation with Charon regarding spirit-stars. Death was still an ambiguous concept to the youngster, though something clicked in her head. If she didn't eat, she might die, which meant she would float up into the sky to become a spirit-star. Although that didn't sound so terrible in theory, she distinctly remembered asking Charon, "Can you climb up there and visit with them? The spirit-stars?" and her father answering, "I often wonder about that myself, but I haven't found a place tall enough to reach them just yet."

The thought of being far away from her family, unable to visit with them, dismayed Galaxy. Her ears fell back and she swallowed thickly. "I will," she said to Hydra's gentle command, her voice quiet but filled with determination. Recovery wouldn't be easy or quick, but this conversation—especially reading between the lines—had more or less scared her straight.

Finito? :)