where my armour ends // private

[hana.]

[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 55%; line-height:115%; text-align: justify;"]She had been gone for so long. Too long. Time had transformed from increments, measurable and finite, to an endless flow like the harsh rapids of a river. No borders, no edges, no limit: it pulled Hana under, held her from the surface. But unlike before, it did not suffocate her. The passage of time, as relentless as it was, offered a respite from the tedious life she broke free from. Yet she found herself yearning for her old life; for days she had to skirt around Clanmates that despised her actions, belting out laughter with her friends, mindless walks through forests heavy with the scent of early snowfall. Hana missed the touch of those she loved, of sitting side-by-side with Pierce and gossiping about boys late into the night. Hana missed the company of her children, bright eyes full of a hope Hana had once wore like an armour. Free of guilt, responsibilities, mistakes, candles in the dark that made all of Hana's hardships tolerable.

But she was without them now. Without her children, without Pierce, without Miso, Hana was truly alone in the endless stretches of tundra and blue skies. Yet their absence was not a burden to weigh her down. No, without her, they would prosper: just has her children had when she surrendered them to more caring hands. Like flowers in the sun they flourished, grew, they shined and smiled, they were happy without her. The concept was an old wound, one reopened many times, a scar she could never rid herself of. It was a bittersweet sentiment to know she was so unneeded in the overarching story of her own life, but in the silence of the taiga with only her thoughts to keep her company it was enough to offer solace that she would not be missed. For that she knew. Hana could shoulder her own heartache, spend countless nights crying herself to sleep in the isolation of her own room. Yet never would she put such despair on another, let alone someone so important to her. Pierce would not remember her. Her closest friend, the man she cared about most, the one person she had a connection to that went beyond flesh and into their very souls, as if they were soulmates in a way Miso could never be for her. She had erased herself from his memory; wiped the memories of flesh rending between sharpened canines, of the life fading from her eyes, the images of blood drooling from open wounds that neither of them could prevent.

She had to find him. Hana had to find him, and let him know she was okay. That she still loved him, even if he would not know her anymore.

Soil gave way easily to delicate ivory paws as Hana tread quietly through the forest, copper eyes fixed unblinkingly ahead of her as her thoughts wandered to distant places. Evergreens shifted and leaned into each other as the winds pushed through the newly budding forest, cautious to avoid harming any of the new buds on low-lying brush as she meandered. To say Hana was lost would be an understatement, but wandering through the taiga hardly a worry for the painted feline. She knew she was close. She had to be, nowhere else in these Gods-forsaken lands looked anything similar to endless evergreens and sharp mountains pawing angrily at the sky, as if they wanted to splice the clouds themselves. Snowbound was near, somewhere, a much softer group than their terrain would suggest. Despite the warming spring conditions Hana's sigh rose as a thin mist in the late morning air, pulling in a deep breath of the crisp air. The earthen felines' steps halted at the crackling of a twig under larger paws just out of sight behind a tangle of budding branches. "Hello?" Hana called, tongue catching between her canines as she nearly reverted to her native tongue. If this animal just beyond her reach truly wanted to hurt her, her choice of greeting would not be of much matter, but Hana would rather not sound like a lost foreigner in lands she already clearly did not belong in.