- Jul 10, 2022
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Her return from her meeting with Pollenfur is a solemn one, coat soaked with water and eyes droopy with thought. Eyebrows are pressed together firmly, stress bubbling beneath her pelt. She recalls her conversation in the beginning of their meeting, the talk of family still fresh on her mind. I'm afraid I cannot keep the promise I made to them, She'd confessed to Pollenfur, guilt riddling her entirety. She had promised them that she would return and take back their home one day, that she would make things right again. But that was before she had slaughtered Juniperfrost, before she had fought against her previous clanmates as if her life depended on it- before she had become the blame for the death of innocents. She was a fire ablaze, waiting to destroy everything she holds dear. Her fear of commitment plagued her like a sickness, taunting her over her shoulder like a whispering fool. Would she betray Pollenfur one day, as well? If the day came when someone discovered them together, discovered their relationship.. Would she fight to keep what was rightfully hers, only to betray those she promised her loyalty to once again?
Was she destined to betray those around her in her mission to seek happiness?
Her eyes shut as she inhales a sharp breath, finding herself back at camp only to make her way over to the river once more. The gorge is right there, she can hear the pitter-patter of water on rocks. It does much to soothe her frayed nerves, scarred jaw twisting into a grimace as she peers down into the watery depths below her. What looks back at her is a reflection of herself, though warped by the parallels on the surface. Who am I? She asks her reflection, eyelids narrowing down at herself. A nobody. The voice responds all the same, "A traitor." Another whispers, her ear flicking with a flinch. Once a traitor, always a traitor. It's all you've ever done. She inhales a sharp breath then, violet-hued irises glancing away from the water's surface. "I did what I had to in order to survive." She mutters to herself, attempting to reassure herself. But alas, no relief came in the form of a voiced agreement in her brain. Nothing she did seemed to quell the budding paranoia. Her paw gently brushes over the sensitive scars along her jaw, lip lifting to reveal the shiny fangs beneath. With these paws, you took away the very lifeline you had to return to WindClan. With these paws, you've damned yourself.
Hyacinthbreath rises to stand, tired of looking at her reflection. Nightingale and Periwinkle were adults now, had minds of their own and Hyacinth knew they would always choose WindClan over her. Part of her is gladdened that her kits retained the loyalty their mother instilled into them from a young age, but another reminds her of the viper's nest that WindClan is. They would never be accepted in the Clan because of her betrayal. Because of her, her kits were damned to a life of struggle.
You never were the best at being loyal, Hyacinth. A familiar voice rings out, and Hyacinthbreath whirls around to face the owner of the voice- only to see nothing. Her eyes are wild with fear, shrinking in on herself as it rings out once more. You wouldn't be struggling so if you had joined the others. Your parents were loyal, after all. To the very end. They meow, and Hyacinthbreath finds herself in the body of a young cat once more. The sound of ragged breathing, coughing- the smell of blood and saliva. She shuts her eyes in an attempt to make the flashback end. Nothing. I can't seem to say the same about you. Once a Moorlander, and now you're a River-dweller? Make up your mind already, Hyacinth. "I am more loyal than you could ever be. You betrayed your colony, manipulated them to their very deaths." She responds with gritted teeth, though the chuckle in her ear and the flash of pain across her face reminds her of what They had done to her back then. Her paw shakily traces the scars across her face, between her eyes.
"Enough," Hyacinthbreath growls to herself, abruptly standing up with fur on end. You will come to find that loyalty is just a lie cats tell to force others into submission. You are a perfect soldier, a war-riddled vengeance. What makes you think that will ever change? "Because I am good. It will change. I will prove it to you, to myself. I just.. I just need a chance to prove myself." She mutters, the warrior's den not too far from her position. The voice stills, quiets- leaves her to her own devices. But she can feel the disagreement, the denial. She was cursed to relive her past over and over again, the blood is on her paws, after all. From the corner of her eyes, she swears she can see the flicker of a blue tabby pelt. Just as soon as she turned her head to look, it was gone- was she imagining things? A soft huff leaves her as she steps into the warrior's den, intent on sleeping for once.
Perhaps tonight would be restful, peaceful sleep- she hoped so, at least. An escape from reality would be greatly appreciated. Deserved.
Was she destined to betray those around her in her mission to seek happiness?
Her eyes shut as she inhales a sharp breath, finding herself back at camp only to make her way over to the river once more. The gorge is right there, she can hear the pitter-patter of water on rocks. It does much to soothe her frayed nerves, scarred jaw twisting into a grimace as she peers down into the watery depths below her. What looks back at her is a reflection of herself, though warped by the parallels on the surface. Who am I? She asks her reflection, eyelids narrowing down at herself. A nobody. The voice responds all the same, "A traitor." Another whispers, her ear flicking with a flinch. Once a traitor, always a traitor. It's all you've ever done. She inhales a sharp breath then, violet-hued irises glancing away from the water's surface. "I did what I had to in order to survive." She mutters to herself, attempting to reassure herself. But alas, no relief came in the form of a voiced agreement in her brain. Nothing she did seemed to quell the budding paranoia. Her paw gently brushes over the sensitive scars along her jaw, lip lifting to reveal the shiny fangs beneath. With these paws, you took away the very lifeline you had to return to WindClan. With these paws, you've damned yourself.
Hyacinthbreath rises to stand, tired of looking at her reflection. Nightingale and Periwinkle were adults now, had minds of their own and Hyacinth knew they would always choose WindClan over her. Part of her is gladdened that her kits retained the loyalty their mother instilled into them from a young age, but another reminds her of the viper's nest that WindClan is. They would never be accepted in the Clan because of her betrayal. Because of her, her kits were damned to a life of struggle.
You never were the best at being loyal, Hyacinth. A familiar voice rings out, and Hyacinthbreath whirls around to face the owner of the voice- only to see nothing. Her eyes are wild with fear, shrinking in on herself as it rings out once more. You wouldn't be struggling so if you had joined the others. Your parents were loyal, after all. To the very end. They meow, and Hyacinthbreath finds herself in the body of a young cat once more. The sound of ragged breathing, coughing- the smell of blood and saliva. She shuts her eyes in an attempt to make the flashback end. Nothing. I can't seem to say the same about you. Once a Moorlander, and now you're a River-dweller? Make up your mind already, Hyacinth. "I am more loyal than you could ever be. You betrayed your colony, manipulated them to their very deaths." She responds with gritted teeth, though the chuckle in her ear and the flash of pain across her face reminds her of what They had done to her back then. Her paw shakily traces the scars across her face, between her eyes.
"Enough," Hyacinthbreath growls to herself, abruptly standing up with fur on end. You will come to find that loyalty is just a lie cats tell to force others into submission. You are a perfect soldier, a war-riddled vengeance. What makes you think that will ever change? "Because I am good. It will change. I will prove it to you, to myself. I just.. I just need a chance to prove myself." She mutters, the warrior's den not too far from her position. The voice stills, quiets- leaves her to her own devices. But she can feel the disagreement, the denial. She was cursed to relive her past over and over again, the blood is on her paws, after all. From the corner of her eyes, she swears she can see the flicker of a blue tabby pelt. Just as soon as she turned her head to look, it was gone- was she imagining things? A soft huff leaves her as she steps into the warrior's den, intent on sleeping for once.
Perhaps tonight would be restful, peaceful sleep- she hoped so, at least. An escape from reality would be greatly appreciated. Deserved.
RIVERCLAN WARRIOR ✦ WARTORN SOLDIER ✦ 53 MOONS ✦ TAGS
