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R Ugly ducklings
#1
She had delved over the mountains like a monster fleeing from her ghosts. Maybe she was. Either way, the hurried pace of her steps was not to be missed. A small and dainty thing, she had pushed across the terrain with such easiness that she was hardly panting by the time she came to a stop. No, her breathlessness was from an anxiety that had coiled in her gut from the moment she'd left. She felt so naked and alone out here, exposed to a world of ice and cruelty. Her stomach ached. Her heart ached. She didn't understand the emotions but she'd known that it had been too much. The children... Karlek... The woman swallowed around the lump in her throat.

This was what she was good for. Running away and starting over. Just like she had when her parents had abandoned her. She felt frightened, but also freed. As if she didn't have to stare at the tiny little rats that made her not only doubt herself, but doubt her resolution. She hadn't even bid farewell. She'd stolen off in the night while Karlek was deep in the den with the children they'd been raising together. It wasn't as if she owed anything to the man. Hardly.

Melancholy danced in her chest either way as she began to pass under the crossing, her yellow eyes looking up at it with the numbest feeling she'd had in a long time. She shouldn't be alone. That was the memory that came to her first. She stared at the arch as if it might ground her, her ears splaying out sideways before slowly shifting to hide in the soft fur of her ruff. The ruff that had faint scars in it.

Her tail was scraggly. Clearly having been chewed at the middle more than once. It shifted and she looked back at it, her shoulders slumping in mild defeat. Like a dog trapped in a cage she turned to grasp her tail. She turned around once, twice, thrice, and then several more times before she finally grasped it. There, as if she didn't have the whole world around her... as if she were trapped in a cage with nowhere else to go, she collapsed and began to gnaw quietly on her tail.

She'd figure out her plan of action later.
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#2
Uncertainty bore in the depths of her chest like a rock, solid and unmoving. At first, it had only been a pebble; easily ignorable and manageable. She had always known leaving—as Aerian had instructed—would be one of the hardest things she’d ever have to do. She had known it months ago, and perhaps that was why she had pushed it off for so long. Her desire to be free had been hindered by her own fear, her own cowardliness. But by some miracle, she had fled, and as punishment, the pebble grew larger.

A flower could only blossom in the right conditions.

This pebble was a weed, and not that different.

However, instead of producing beautiful petals and delicious scents, this pebble housed her sorrow, her guilt, her anger, and her fears. It was nothing but an angry pebble that lived and grew inside of her. It had become fed by her nightmares, by the ghosts she’d see each waking day, and by the whispering voices that echoed behind her.

An uneasiness had begun to filter through her bones, a tension that could not be ignored. It tugged and pulled at her muscles, clouded her thoughts and tore at her limbs. The pebble was growing. 

The past was behind her, she told herself. In fact, the words had become a mantra she’d repeat to herself daily—hourly even. Over and over again, she’d whisper its comforting phrase, and she could only hope that one day, she’d finally come to believe them.

Rakeri was no master of survival or tactful enough to be on her own. Aerian was the one who was skilled, skilled enough to fight, to live, to survive. She was not Aerian—and without her brother, she could be nothing. It did not matter how much he tried to help, tried to prepare her, deep down Rakeri and her pebble knew she could not do this.

Her steps were light and cautious, uncomfortable and hesitant as she wandered through the valley. It was new and different, and while a younger version of herself would’ve been attracted by its novelty, present Rakeri was no such thing.

The world around her felt nothing more than Exile in its truest, rawest form.

She ambled further down the crossing, her eyes nothing more than an icy green as she came across another. At first, she paused; hesitant in her approach. Could it be them?

Her gaze had narrowed as she peered forward, neck straining and eyes narrowing as she kept a steady distance between the two of them. But before her lied no one that she recognized, instead, it was a stranger who curled into themselves—asleep?

“Hey!” She called out, her voice wavering slightly—betraying the ounce of confidence she tried to have. “You alright over there?”
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