[div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 55%; text-align: justify;"][align=center]she'd trade her guns for love
but she's caught in the c r o s s f i r e
As a child, Hana never knew anything was wrong.
Chilled winter breezes led to warm smiles and hearty laughs from where they tucked away in their community home, a family of five making the most of the bitter weather as they passed the time conversing amongst themselves. Those present were the faces Hana knew all her life: her mother, father, aunt, cousin. Whenever she tried to bring up the whereabouts of her uncle they answered vaguely, avoidantly. Even at such a young age, Hana could put together the fact that she was likely never going to meet him: eventually, Hana stopped asking all together. When those fleeting moments of joy had passed, however, it was replaced with tired smiles and glassy eyes that passed silent exchanges from one adult to the other. At three months old, Hana was too young and naive to understand the implications of when her mother would sit and watch her play with the other children with a watery gaze. They never burdened her, they sheltered her from the harsh realities that prowled right outside of their home. Hana was full of smiles, nosey about the whereabouts of her friends, practicing her broken English with her cousin (who was only marginally better at the language). He'd grin widely when Hana used a new word, gently correcting her when she used it wrong. As she aged to five months, she quickly outpaced Hyun-woo in English, having developed a keen interest for the language: although he didn't keep up with her any longer, he was still just as encouraging, frequently asking to have basic conversations with him in English.
One day he never returned from one of his late night walks, or so she had been told they were. It was then that Hana learned what anguish was, when one of their group's elders had arrived early morning with soft taps on the door. So-hyun had taught her many things, including the expression of soul-consuming sorrow and the shrieking screams of denial. Her father had quickly hurried her away into the back room of the cabin as her mother rushed forward to console her grieving sister. Once more, Hana did not understand the implications. She had assumed that Hyun-woo had left in the night to pursue his father, leaving without a goodbye. She had assumed her aunt buckled inward on herself and collapsed onto the floor because she wouldn't see him for a long time. At first, Hana was angry: they loved him, they lived with him. Why had he left so suddenly? Why hadn't he said goodbye to his mother, to
Hana, before disappearing into the night? Her anger dulled to a lingering resentment over the course of a couple days, decaying and transforming over the course of weeks. Igniting into hatred like a gas leak with a spark when So-hyun could no longer offer a smile when Hana approached her. She could not understand how somebody they cared so deeply about could leave them with such little regret. Soon her aunt began to leave at dusk and return late at night, and Hana began to worry that one day, she would not come back either.
Her childhood came to an abrupt end shortly after Hana had reached her sixth month of age. The snow had melted and given way to late spring, stars on a bright display in the clear night sky. The village was silent. Its inhabitants had called it a night, most having retired to cabin interiors while some lay outside, too large to comfortably fit inside the man made buildings. Soft shuffling in the night was nothing unusual when their group consisted of a handful of nocturnal members. The sound of long claws scraping against polished wood close to her window had stirred Hana from her light slumber, tossing on her side to face the soft glow of the moon filtering through the cloudy glass. It was probably their neighbor returning home late: her aunt should be home soon, or already home. Hana was too tired to recall whether or not the door had creaked open previously. The cabin next door exploded with commotion, loud thudding and screams breaking the serenity of the night and immediately causing Hana to push herself up. Her father Elias and aunt So-hyun were quick to their feet, rushing from of the room and out the front door. Her mother wrapped herself around Hana protectively, her recently met companion joining her on the aged mattress. They were only a few inches taller than a wolf now, encompassing both her and her mother easily. The fluorescent dragon released a long sigh, lifting his head toward the window as voices conversed sternly amongst themselves unintelligibly. When Hana finally fell back asleep hours later, her slumber was restless.
The next morning, it was revealed to Hana somebody was stolen from their homes. They could not lie that a bloody trail leading to the forest was somebody who had willingly departed. Hana was old enough to understand now. And she
did understand. The young girl had spent the day hidden away in her home, idly scratching designes into the thick layer of dust that had gathered where Hyun-woo had once slept. Her mother tried to sympathize, her father tried to apologize. She did not want pity. There was no reason to apologize. Hana had grown to hate somebody she cared about so much, she had despised the actions of someone that had
died where she had foolishly assumed otherwise. No "oh, honey" or "it'll be okay" was going to magically stop her resentment from turning inward. Her doctored smiles and curt words made interactions short lived, but it did not stop her parents from holding one sided conversations as they busied themselves around the house, leaving less and less as members of the village became more fearful of leaving. The only one she responded to in any way that was not a generic response was her aunt, simply because So-hyun was intolerant of her silence.
"He was my son," she had pointed out.
"But I did not neglect the rest of my family." And Hana could not argue. She could not bring herself to bother arguing. She knew she was in the wrong. But that didn't make it any easier.
Her aunt had told her of the increasing border security, of the wars waged against their neighbors, who had once been a powerful community that followed the ideal of survival of the fittest. Hana knew each group they lived around had a special ability: her own village had a spiritual second half, another creature that made them whole. Miso was Hana's extended self. So-hyun's had been the father of Hyun-woo: her mate, her companion, her everything. Their neighbors, they could tap into the ability to revert to their wild roots. To forget compassion. Mercy. So-hyun explained that their numbers became too great for themselves, that they ran out of prey. They were in the middle of a cluster of groups pridefully rootbound to their abilities and heritage. That they began to turn on other groups, hunting on their lands for prey. That the other groups
became their prey. That the problem was in a slow decline, getting progressively worse as months went by and their territory grew more and more sparse of food. Her aunt mentioned efforts to secure the border were ongoing. Hana's head turned toward So-hyun as she spoke, eyes widening. The feline paused, watching her niece with curious trepidation.
She owed it to herself. To her parents, who had tried to hide such a reality from her for so long in hopes that their daughter would grow up without having to become involved in the brutal conflict. To Hyun-woo, who she had so wrongly accused of abandonment. Who
died to keep her safe, met with only hatred and resentment in return. For the first time that day, Hana spoke. She had said four words, voice unwavering as she stared at So-hyun with a steely stare:
"I want to join."
Her aunt's reaction was much different from what Hana had been expecting. She was expecting distaste, denial, to tell her that it was no place for her. Instead a small smile began to grow on the tortoiseshell's lips, a light sigh filtering through her nose. The silence that fell between the two was only a few seconds as So-hyun considered Hana's words, but the quiet could not be uncomfortable for the young girl. Hana searched her aunt's features for a more readable expression, growing uncomfortable under her studious green gaze.
"... Ji-yoon will not be happy." So-hyun finally spoke hushedly, turning her gaze away to search the empty room for signs of her sister. Hana had no response, simply staring at her aunt instead. Hana knew her mother would not like the idea of her only child going to battle: her father wouldn't exactly approve of the decision, either. Hana was young. A
child, as they liked to call her, much to her chagrin. They would dismiss her choice as a fairytale dream, a fantasy of revenge and retribution. Something she'd give up on only days into the project. But Hana was not about to swallow her pride, nor would she surrender her will. The child simply responded with a hard stare, unblinkingly watching the reaction of her aunt as it was the older female's turn to search for a more prominent reaction. So-hyun opened her maw to speak, but Hana quickly silenced her with a small ivory paw pressed against her aunt's lips. Hana knew it was going to be hard. She knew she'd have to swallow her fear, confront situations that would make her uncomfortable. But she was young. Her fears and anxieties were malleable: she had time to adapt to them, try to wring them out of her system. Right? Hana was banking a lot on the fact that she'd be able to control something she hardly even knew about. Her fears consisted of deep water, of jumpscares: never before did she have to worry for her life. For the lives of others. Hana did not fully grasp the weight of the situation, but she would not acknowledge that. She would persevere. She
had to.
and she keeps waking up
but it's n o t to the sound of birds
A scuffle had broken out near the border, news reaching the village quickly as Hana and So-hyun were dispatched to deal with the skirmish that had quickly evolved into a bloody battle. The sun was hanging low behind the horizon, the moon slowly rising to take its place in the sky when the two set out atop Miso (who had now grown to rival the size of an Asian elephant). This was the first time Hana had been tasked with engaging in a true battle, a much more nerve wracking task than scaring off a lone animal that prowled the borders. The sound of battle reached them before they reached the event itself, usually serene evening air filled with angered shrieks and whines of agony. No amount of training could have ever prepared her for what she saw on the battlefield. Seven months of training were
worthless the very moment the fledgling adult stepped into war.
mother- Ji-yoon (지윤)
father: Elias
aunt: So-hyun (서현)
cousin: Hyun-woo (현우)
![[Image: gQNfTJ1.gif]](https://i.imgur.com/gQNfTJ1.gif)
![[Image: tN4qrTZ.png]](https://i.imgur.com/tN4qrTZ.png)
![[Image: v1g6CYa.png]](https://i.imgur.com/v1g6CYa.png)
![[Image: rakue_by_deerdashed-dbxgaby.png]](https://orig00.deviantart.net/bf2b/f/2017/355/d/8/rakue_by_deerdashed-dbxgaby.png)