Monty

»About.
Monty fears that her early years stowing away in the Tangled Wood snagged and twisted something in her soul. A feral feeling slithers into her conscious every dusk and faintly melts away every dawn. She finds it harder to live off of hares, birds, and the occasional plump mosquito. Hunger pulls at her more than before, even when her gut feels placid and pink--a color she's become comfortable with. Occasionally when she fails to avoid society and finds the outskirts of a town or familial clan, something hungry curls around her mind, constricting it--forcing her to feel suddenly urgent and stressed. Her heartbeat quickens as if it's subconsciously picked up on a threat. Her muscles tense for a leap even when she's hiding and adrenaline makes her eyes sharp as if looking for a danger, or maybe a meal. But she couldn't. He was her only chance at a normal life and she couldn't control herself even for him, so she sure as hell couldn't do it for anyone else. She knew she couldn't trust herself again with others. She has to continue the isolation, unsure if she will ever find a reason to break it but she has yet to cross that bridge, and pushing it is no longer an option.

Monty will return to her hovel in the wilds and tinker with her pearl and teeth. She'll try not to shrivel to her thoughts any more. Just simply stay alive, maybe find the few she hurt and leave a symbol of "thank you" or "I'm sorry." Maybe busy herself with procuring some bright flowers and leaving them for those names who still pang in her chest. When she looks at the flowers, they make her think bright things, like sunny fields and butterflies. But thoughts quickly bring her back to moonlit grass and moths. She will skitter away to any large sound, pack her few belongings and find a new hole to hide away in if it happens again. She'll be okay.

»Origin.

It was only a dream. Not really a twisted nightmare, just the truth. She rolled over inside the tree trunk and examined her hand. Burning, pale, her blood vessels already bruising. She would heal quickly, but for the time being, it throbbed. The beam of sun still sitting there, glowering.