proverbial sunrises

Here's the thing about harsh thoughts-- they'll find you. They'll always find you eventually. Hazel had them sometimes. They woke her up at night, or gnawed at her insides when she was alone. It was the bad thoughts about her parents, the father she'd known especially. Wait here... it here just around the corner from where she stood now. Wait here, don't go anywhere. But she had gone somewhere, and that's probably what had saved her life in the end. You grow tougher, stronger, and smarter being on your own. Hell if anyone knew how long Hazel had been on her own, but it had changed her forever. It would have been easier if the ooze had made her an orphan. That would have been an excuse.

But Hazel wasn't a Disney princess. There was no dead parents excuse. They'd left her behind intentionally. A bastard by birth, despite her littermates looking like their mother's mate. Hazel was a symbol, a symbol of something else. Distinctively other, so (just as distinctively), she'd been left to die. It's fine. It makes you tougher. Hazel had something that wasn't easy to come by, something you didn't unless you'd been abandoned too. She'd been cursed with more of a will to thrive than anyone really needed. A bastard by birth, and by choice.

A voice pulled her from her thoughts. It came before Hazel even laid her green eyes on him, and it wasn't a coyote. Unlucky. Still, with the mood that the red and pale girl was in, it didn't even matter. She turned to face him with confident steps, lifting a lip to flash her teeth. "Oh frick off," but the posture she'd taken was defensive. Hazel's hackles were up, and she wasn't in the mood to screw around. He could do something about it, or not do something about it-- it was his choice. The girl was indignant from the insult, and she wasn't about to take shit from anyone.

"Speech"