The Colours of Merida.

Chameleon

When Merida was little she used to pretend that she was a astronaut visiting another planet, and that everyone around her was aliens.

Her parents were very good at being aliens — they spoke to each other with long looks and could have a whole conversations all with their eyes. Especially when she was upset or angry. Her mother would look at her father, and her father would look back, then at Merida, and then back to her mother. Her mother would stare, purse her lips and jerk her head, and her father would sigh, throw his hands up in surrender and walk away. Never a word uttered.

Of course, now she knew that her parents weren't aliens. If anything, Merida herself was the alien. She never learned that silent language that her parents — and most of her friends and family — were so adept at. No matter how hard she tried, she could never get it right.

She tried, spent a lot of nights staring in a mirror practising those eye movements, and different facial expressions so she could join in with everyone else. But she always just felt a little silly sat there.

She had a lot of friends growing up, an old brother with his friends having siblings her age meant that she was around her peers often and she perfected a technique of adapting to whichever friends she was with at the time. When she was with her loud friend, she would be loud, and they'd joke and laugh and have fun. Her quiet friends meant she was quiet too, they'd sit and chill and read together, inventing their own worlds and stories. Her friend from sport class meant that she was bouncy and energetic, they'd swap techniques and warm up together before they exercised. Now, it wasn't even a conscious thing, she just adapted to whichever situation she was in. It made her feel even more like an alien.

Maybe she had a cloaking ability, or maybe she was like a chameleon camouflaging into other people personalities.

Maybe thats why she didn't like big groups, because she wasn't sure who she should be mimicking.