[div style="max-width: 600px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9pt;"]becoming like somebody else is not always done through manipulation, nor is acting in a manner believed to be acceptable by the group you wish to accept you. manipulation is conducted in secret, subtle gestures. a whisper here, a touch there. there is no free will involved. however, it is the nature of social creatures to mimic the behavior of others in order to show respect and a desire to be accepted. and children mimic their parents on how to behave and think. you can always choose not to. in manipulation, you believe there is no other choice. so thinking that attempting to integrate into a group is like being manipulated is stupid. freedom of choice is present, thus, no one can control your thoughts. granted, if there is anything melantha can relate to, it is the suspicion of other people's actions. she, too, questions people's motives, constantly on alert for any sign that someone cannot be trusted. mel's life did not involve a childhood of grooming to become the perfect assassin, but she was thrust into a cruel and unforgiving world in which she had to learn the hard way or risk death. no one was around to teach her aside from the merciless forest and all its cruel inhabitants. driven on by desperation, melantha picked up on skills her parents would have not taught her for several months. the terrifying sight of a bear's powerful teeth as it roars at her taught her to eat food as quickly as possible and get out. there is no room for transient predators in the world. starvation forced her to learn how to hunt all manner of creatures, and which foliage to supplement herself on when nourishment was scarce.
the point is that freedom of choice overrides the possibility of manipulation. mel became like other predators not because somehow the universe and all the random inhabitants possessed some grand scheme to force her to be that way. she became like other predators because she recognized how the world works, and if she wants to survive, she will have to become like everyone else to do so. life is always a competition, and only the best competitor wins. in killua's case, perhaps he is allowing himself to be manipulated by the memories of the brother who groomed him to become a person he does not like, but the role his brother played in his life was so great that killua has become hesitant to truly leave it behind despite his clear distaste. it's a hard path to take, but everyone has to take it one day. usually, for normal people like melantha, she had to give up her role as the child and become the adult far before her time. and for killua, maybe he will have to give up being an extraordinary assassin and embrace the normality of clan life. alas, none of this philosophical is relevant, as melantha has no was of knowing what goes on inside killua's brain. even if she did, she probably would not care so much to go on a long rant unless it was about how stupid she thinks he is.
in reality, the young huntress is drawn to the scent of blood, not a philosophical discussion. copper and iron permeate the cold air, and although melantha ate first thing in the morning, she cannot resist the urge to investigate. there is so much blood that nearly puts her in a trance. mel cannot ignore her opportunistic hunter's instincts even if she wanted to. for far too long, she has trained herself to search for the faintest hint of food and nourish herself as quickly as possible before leaving just as quickly. large paws scarcely break the upper crust of the snow as the lithe creature trots from cover to cover, her approach zig-zagging in a natural aversion to giving up the advantage of cover. mel is a creature of habit, and even though she is relatively safe in snowbound, she is unwilling to give up the practices she picked up out in the wilds. the only way to stay sharp is to practice every day of her life. she follows her nose, taking the time to pinpoint the exact point of origin by parting her jaws slightly and using the olfactory receptors on upper lining of her mouth. given as she began close to camp, it takes about five minutes to trace the scent at a hastened pace. she arrives silently, careful to circle around downwind of the area just in case whoever did the killing happens to still be in the area. unbeknownst to melantha, he is, but he appears as the victim.
"maker..." she breathes sharply, stepping out of the shadows and into the clearing as sagacious green eyes sweep over her surroundings. upon seeing the carnage and the blood-soaked killua, she sweeps her gaze over him to survey his wounds. melantha may act distant, but she does care. deep down. "killua...what... what happened?" questions the young wildcat, creeping closer to the scene of the crime. at first, she feels a mixture of concern and amazement. concern for her first almost-friend outside of her family, an amazement that he could take on two bigger animals and still come out on top. but then she notices the empty look in his eyes, like his mind is far away from his body. that is what gives her the feeling that something is not right here. perhaps she is just paranoid, but as mel begins to look around once more, she cannot rid herself of the feeling that everything appears too perfectly chaotic. however, there is no way to be sure, especially since killua is littered in wounds. still... that expression.. melantha is perceptive, but she does not possess all the answers of the universe. as much as she does not trust the story the crime scene tells her, mel has no way to prove it otherwise. she may not like it, but she will ignore the suspicion this time, even if it continues to eat away at the part of her that wishes to know the answers to everything. "are you...okay? can i do something?" she cringes at her words. of course he isn't okay! her very clearly isn't physically okay, and she is even more doubtful of what's going on upstairs. but it's not a secret that mel is not very good at being nice or showing concern or anything that doesn't involve being mean and sarcastic.
the point is that freedom of choice overrides the possibility of manipulation. mel became like other predators not because somehow the universe and all the random inhabitants possessed some grand scheme to force her to be that way. she became like other predators because she recognized how the world works, and if she wants to survive, she will have to become like everyone else to do so. life is always a competition, and only the best competitor wins. in killua's case, perhaps he is allowing himself to be manipulated by the memories of the brother who groomed him to become a person he does not like, but the role his brother played in his life was so great that killua has become hesitant to truly leave it behind despite his clear distaste. it's a hard path to take, but everyone has to take it one day. usually, for normal people like melantha, she had to give up her role as the child and become the adult far before her time. and for killua, maybe he will have to give up being an extraordinary assassin and embrace the normality of clan life. alas, none of this philosophical is relevant, as melantha has no was of knowing what goes on inside killua's brain. even if she did, she probably would not care so much to go on a long rant unless it was about how stupid she thinks he is.
in reality, the young huntress is drawn to the scent of blood, not a philosophical discussion. copper and iron permeate the cold air, and although melantha ate first thing in the morning, she cannot resist the urge to investigate. there is so much blood that nearly puts her in a trance. mel cannot ignore her opportunistic hunter's instincts even if she wanted to. for far too long, she has trained herself to search for the faintest hint of food and nourish herself as quickly as possible before leaving just as quickly. large paws scarcely break the upper crust of the snow as the lithe creature trots from cover to cover, her approach zig-zagging in a natural aversion to giving up the advantage of cover. mel is a creature of habit, and even though she is relatively safe in snowbound, she is unwilling to give up the practices she picked up out in the wilds. the only way to stay sharp is to practice every day of her life. she follows her nose, taking the time to pinpoint the exact point of origin by parting her jaws slightly and using the olfactory receptors on upper lining of her mouth. given as she began close to camp, it takes about five minutes to trace the scent at a hastened pace. she arrives silently, careful to circle around downwind of the area just in case whoever did the killing happens to still be in the area. unbeknownst to melantha, he is, but he appears as the victim.
"maker..." she breathes sharply, stepping out of the shadows and into the clearing as sagacious green eyes sweep over her surroundings. upon seeing the carnage and the blood-soaked killua, she sweeps her gaze over him to survey his wounds. melantha may act distant, but she does care. deep down. "killua...what... what happened?" questions the young wildcat, creeping closer to the scene of the crime. at first, she feels a mixture of concern and amazement. concern for her first almost-friend outside of her family, an amazement that he could take on two bigger animals and still come out on top. but then she notices the empty look in his eyes, like his mind is far away from his body. that is what gives her the feeling that something is not right here. perhaps she is just paranoid, but as mel begins to look around once more, she cannot rid herself of the feeling that everything appears too perfectly chaotic. however, there is no way to be sure, especially since killua is littered in wounds. still... that expression.. melantha is perceptive, but she does not possess all the answers of the universe. as much as she does not trust the story the crime scene tells her, mel has no way to prove it otherwise. she may not like it, but she will ignore the suspicion this time, even if it continues to eat away at the part of her that wishes to know the answers to everything. "are you...okay? can i do something?" she cringes at her words. of course he isn't okay! her very clearly isn't physically okay, and she is even more doubtful of what's going on upstairs. but it's not a secret that mel is not very good at being nice or showing concern or anything that doesn't involve being mean and sarcastic.