tear away at the restraints they call the body
bonfire resolutions
Bard
11-14-2022, 10:50 PM
Coward. Hazel had nightmares because she was a coward. She was afraid of those nightmares because she was a coward. She knew it. The red and pale yearling knew that was the only reason for her to be stuck like this. The only reason she woke up shrieking, sweating, shaking– she was a fucking coward. It was the absolute only explanation. It was the only thing that made any sense. It couldn’t make sense in any other way. If she wasn’t a coward then the nightmares wouldn’t scare her. If she wasn’t a coward then she wouldn’t feel like… like this. There wouldn’t be the knots in her stomach. There wouldn’t be a cold pit right in the middle. There wouldn’t be the bitterness, the horror, the terrible things that swirled around in her head all the fucking time.
If she wasn’t a fucking coward, she could let it go. Hazel knew. Hazel could feel it in the way that Sirius looked at her, the way that Azure looked at her. She could feel their eyes on her, appraising. Assessing. Judging her for the limp that hadn’t gone away yet. Hazel spent so long being a burden on the pack… they’d wasted so much to save her. So many things that could have been used on a real warrior. On someone who was really and actually going to contribute. Instead she was just… she was the same as she’d always been. Hazel was a fucking failure. Wolves got killed all the time. Wolves did the killing all the time. Why did she have to dwell on it?
And what would Bas think? Things had almost gone back to normal, but he could hear her from the next bedroom of the treehouse. He could hear her crying out in her sleep, he could hear her when she had the nightmares. Maybe she ought to move down to Halo’s den, or somewhere else. Somewhere she wouldn’t be a fucking burden either. Halo at least seemed to like the burdensome creature– something about feeling needed. Maybe Hazel was the thing giving Halo purpose at the moment, but now that she was better, the yearling felt like a burden here too. Better, but not good enough. Better but still not good enough. There was anger living inside her chest, resting there, building up long and slow. Anger that was directed squarely at herself.
Hazel dragged herself to the bonfires. Some were treating it like a pilgrimage. The fire that she’d set the other night in the woods… well, maybe there needed to be more fire. A better fire. A fire that was properly symbolic. Something that she could really channel her bad feelings at. It was long into dusk by the time the yearling finally arrived, posture stiff as she did. There was too much noise here, and she wouldn’t be able to stay for long. Crowds stressed her out, and this was even worse than usual. It was all she could do to remain socially appropriate, willing her hackles down across her back. Green eyes darting across the groups that had gathered as if to make sure that her brother wasn’t out here lurking. Her brother, out to get revenge. She deserved that too.
To the fire, the creature drew near. From the bag she’d borrowed from Halo, the girl pulled a small, raggedy grass figure. It looked like Hazel herself, some of the grasses dyed red, others bleached by the sun. Though a crude representation, it was Hazel herself. With a sag in her shoulders and a deep sigh, she looked into the flames for a long time. She needed to let go of the things she was afraid of, of the memories from that afternoon, from all the bad things that were still chasing her. Hazel should have died, by all rights. She should have died that day. Parts of her certainly had died that day… and now, now that she was whole again, Hazel needed to view it as a rebirth. There was no other way. There was no other way she would ever be whole again if she didn’t.
What a strange concept, being whole. How could Hazel ever be whole after all the things she’d been through? There were so many awful things that racked her brain. Her family had abandoned her, intentionally leaving her to die. Leaving her to be swallowed up, taken away… and it was only by sheer luck (fate?) that she’d been saved. Sirius, Basilisk, they’d taken her in, and they’d been her new lease on life. Lease, the reminder that everything comes with a price. Her father coming back to try and snuff her out for good, and then failing… failing, but coming far too close for comfort.
She needed to let it go. She needed to let go of the things that were weighing her down. The ghosts, the nightmares, the haunting nature of it all. All the things that haunted her. Let it go. Right. That was why Hazel had come.
With a soft grunt, Hazel chucked the effigy into the flames. She watched the figure, the thing that represented herself as it was swallowed up and taken away. Maybe, just maybe, she felt a little bit lighter as she turned away.
If she wasn’t a fucking coward, she could let it go. Hazel knew. Hazel could feel it in the way that Sirius looked at her, the way that Azure looked at her. She could feel their eyes on her, appraising. Assessing. Judging her for the limp that hadn’t gone away yet. Hazel spent so long being a burden on the pack… they’d wasted so much to save her. So many things that could have been used on a real warrior. On someone who was really and actually going to contribute. Instead she was just… she was the same as she’d always been. Hazel was a fucking failure. Wolves got killed all the time. Wolves did the killing all the time. Why did she have to dwell on it?
And what would Bas think? Things had almost gone back to normal, but he could hear her from the next bedroom of the treehouse. He could hear her crying out in her sleep, he could hear her when she had the nightmares. Maybe she ought to move down to Halo’s den, or somewhere else. Somewhere she wouldn’t be a fucking burden either. Halo at least seemed to like the burdensome creature– something about feeling needed. Maybe Hazel was the thing giving Halo purpose at the moment, but now that she was better, the yearling felt like a burden here too. Better, but not good enough. Better but still not good enough. There was anger living inside her chest, resting there, building up long and slow. Anger that was directed squarely at herself.
Hazel dragged herself to the bonfires. Some were treating it like a pilgrimage. The fire that she’d set the other night in the woods… well, maybe there needed to be more fire. A better fire. A fire that was properly symbolic. Something that she could really channel her bad feelings at. It was long into dusk by the time the yearling finally arrived, posture stiff as she did. There was too much noise here, and she wouldn’t be able to stay for long. Crowds stressed her out, and this was even worse than usual. It was all she could do to remain socially appropriate, willing her hackles down across her back. Green eyes darting across the groups that had gathered as if to make sure that her brother wasn’t out here lurking. Her brother, out to get revenge. She deserved that too.
To the fire, the creature drew near. From the bag she’d borrowed from Halo, the girl pulled a small, raggedy grass figure. It looked like Hazel herself, some of the grasses dyed red, others bleached by the sun. Though a crude representation, it was Hazel herself. With a sag in her shoulders and a deep sigh, she looked into the flames for a long time. She needed to let go of the things she was afraid of, of the memories from that afternoon, from all the bad things that were still chasing her. Hazel should have died, by all rights. She should have died that day. Parts of her certainly had died that day… and now, now that she was whole again, Hazel needed to view it as a rebirth. There was no other way. There was no other way she would ever be whole again if she didn’t.
What a strange concept, being whole. How could Hazel ever be whole after all the things she’d been through? There were so many awful things that racked her brain. Her family had abandoned her, intentionally leaving her to die. Leaving her to be swallowed up, taken away… and it was only by sheer luck (fate?) that she’d been saved. Sirius, Basilisk, they’d taken her in, and they’d been her new lease on life. Lease, the reminder that everything comes with a price. Her father coming back to try and snuff her out for good, and then failing… failing, but coming far too close for comfort.
She needed to let it go. She needed to let go of the things that were weighing her down. The ghosts, the nightmares, the haunting nature of it all. All the things that haunted her. Let it go. Right. That was why Hazel had come.
With a soft grunt, Hazel chucked the effigy into the flames. She watched the figure, the thing that represented herself as it was swallowed up and taken away. Maybe, just maybe, she felt a little bit lighter as she turned away.