Cave of Solitude

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A few days later...

Hyades smiles as she squints out into the darkness over the beach. It was safe to come out again. She walks out onto the dry sand in front of the small cave she'd found and had been using as a shelter during the day. Perfectly dark and serene. Like a tiny paradise walled off from everything bad in the world. She'd gotten creative when looking for a place to hide this time. The only way to see this place was from sea, or the cliffs way above her. And the only way to get down here was through some kind of dense plant with tiny teeth along a ribbon thin edge. A few hops down, some skips over the beach boulders and boom... Solitude.

She was still shocked T hadn't found her yet. This wasn't her first time getting super creative in her search for hiding places. At the same time she got the feeling that T had found her, and was just giving her the time she clearly needed. She was grateful.

She had no idea she'd been making the others so unhappy. She sighs as she drops to sit on the ground near the shallows, letting her feet hover over the water for a heartbeat before she lets the water swirl over them.

Things had been going so well. She was part of an awesome club that was making swords. A club, not a gang. No politics or anything, just four people having fun and being productive. Uma and Mal had come to some sort of non verbal understanding and were accepting her coming and going. Uma had even said once she joined up she could still visit Mal's gang. Things really were as perfect as life could ever possibly be... And then her father had ruined everything. Stole her from the beach, from their club. She'd hurt Gil in the process of protecting him.

She presses her fingers to her lips. It had been the first time she'd ever initiated contact like that, and the last time.

When she feels wetness on her fingertips she pulls them back. Was she crying? Why? She was rotten to the core wasn't she? Mal never cried.

The tears streaming down her face were just another painful reminder that she wasn't everything Mal wanted her to be. Not everything, though Mal was far more positive with her lately, taking the time to appreciate her work on the gang's behalf... Apparently like the person she was turning into far more than she had liked her before.

And the scary part was the fact that even she kind of enjoyed it. She liked raging at people who stepped up to Evie and Carlos. Liked threatening them. It was a strange thrill to see them rethinking the way they acted when she showed up in a fiery tantrum.

And while the fear was no longer there in the rest of her gang's eyes, it was now in the eyes of everyone else. She hid her control of her fire from the rest of the isle, letting them believe that Mal shook her up and set her loose on her enemies. It was what Maleficent wanted. Make Mal look good.

Well, the rest of the isle believed Mal could control the uncontrollable. Mal was always the one to call her off, the only one to call her off. She had to play the part until Mal was satisfied that her wishes would be obeyed as orders.

Was that who she was? A weapon? A tool? For Mal and her mother she helped get things in line. Her father wanted her to remove the bindings, freeing him to rain chaos on the rest of the world, or on his family. She wasn't actually sure what her father's plans were. Was that all she was good for?

She pulls her knees up to her chest before resting her chin on them. She didn't know who she was anymore. She still hoped the king got her letters, but she hadn't had any motivation to write for weeks. She hadn't baked, or made glass... Hadn't wanted to. What was wrong with her?

Was she really so easily upset? Or was it okay for her to feel like... Whatever she was feeling. She couldn't figure that out either. How was she feeling? Trapped? Yeah, but that wasn't anyone's fault but her father's and Mal's mother. Was she taking it out on everyone around her? T seemed to think so.

Her eyes narrow as flames engulf her hands. That was easy for T to say... He hadn't been forced to give up his life. He still had the freedom to come and go, piss Mal off or rough Harry up. No one made him do anything he didn't want to do, so how could he even begin to understand how she was feeling? How could he know when she didn't even understand!

She punches her hands into the shallows, putting out the flames as she lets out a feral growl.

She couldn't be mad at T. And she had no idea where T came from, so maybe he did understand.

But then why wouldn't he just tell her that? He knew everything about her apparently! But no, she couldn't know anything about him. She had to put it together in whatever weird way she did, and then deal with him getting more withdrawn from her everytime she said anything.

She falls back, letting her back slam into the compact sand with a loud thump in her frustration. How was this helping? If anything she was starting to feel worse.

Was she doing what Gil thought she did? Getting into a loop of unhelpfulness... She groans, it sure felt that way.

She growls again before she rolls and pushes herself up. Time to do something... Anything... Maybe she could see if she could melt stone, make the cave a little bigger... That seemed more helpful than whatever the hell this was.

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