Quiet on the Northern front

There's something far away, and only getting farther.  She's on watch, she's not going to cry up here, on the ledge.  Winter is a time for crisis, a time to be on the metaphorical ledge too.  Winter is the worst of all, and it's the first one she's had to handle on her own. 

Tucking her tail tightly around herself, Hazel's gaze doesn't leave the horizon.  She's still on watch.  Perhaps the queen of it is what it ising herself into the dirt, but what else is new?  Bas's words are the same truths she's repeated to herself over and over, reminders that are already filled with her teeth, her claws, while she tries to cling.  No news is good news, right? 

She's always been great at lying to herself. 

If it takes delusion to get herself through the winter, so be it.  Hazel curls up tightly, though she refuses to drop her gaze.  Putting her head down, sticking to her damn job... it's the only thing she's done since Halo and Sirius have been gone.  "It feels like being abandoned all over again."  Her tone lacks the bitterness that usually comes with thoughts of her biological parents, it's something else. Hurt, fear too.

Abandoned. While Hazel knows it's not the case, she allows herself to speak freely, this time. Rarely does she actually talk about her feelings.  Though she knows the context has an impact on that word, and that it should have an impact on the feelings that come with it.

Fuck. 

Hazel, The General