[Hope]

You probably think you know a lot about storybooks. 

(Hello, audience. It's been some time since we last spoke. I left you tapping on glass. A watchface, a mirror. I did what I could but I don't get to decide what happens with other people's time. All that was a while ago now. I imagine some things have changed since then. And some things haven't changed since then. I am making a new story to share with you. I hope you like her.) 

Only a few butterflies still lingered in the castle den, except for the ones that had died, scattered on the ground like tossed confetti. The stone room was full of soft things and love. Full of warmth and bodies. The room was full of something thin and red and tangled. The room was filled with stupid dumb kids and all the blank pages their lives would fill. Some footfalls scampered over the stone floor in the direction of the light and cold.

You probably think you know about "main characters" and "plot arcs" and the like. What makes a main character? What makes one protagonist the focus, the one whose thoughts and opinions are worth hearing? What makes some stories so important while others are boring? Is there just some special something that sets a person, a story, apart from the others, makes it special, makes it magic? 

A girl stepped out into winter from the warmth of the castle walls. Her breath curled in hot steam, like the breath of a dragon or the tail of a comet. White speckled paws punctured right through that clean crisp layer of frost, a pure and unbroken landscape immediately ruined by her careless treading. There was no second moment spared for thought, the wolf was a streaking meteor of black and white, tearing through the snow and revealing the dead grass beneath with her skidding, stumbling, running. She dashed for the highest point she could find - a big black log dusted in powdery white. It wasn't as tall as the castle. The girl looked up at the spires of the thing and frowned, as though wondering how it had the audacity to make her look small by comparison. 

Pretty much everyone thinks of themselves as the main character. 

Fiery blue eyes surveyed her mother's domain. The domain of her people! Stories have to have settings after all. It was blanketed now in gentle ice and white dust and a gray-blue sky and the weight of a thousand metaphors. The setting was nicely dressed in stories, every single one important and beautiful and imperfect. Everything was quiet, but not silent - the wind didn't howl but it murmured secrets. The brook didn't babble but it hummed a soft melody, trickling notes peaking out of the stillness of the ice. Quiet and calm as winter tended to be. That'd change soon enough, the girl figured, knowing her family. 

She and her siblings had been born among blue butterflies and revelry. They came from a long lineage of flowers. They still had all the time in the world, and the color of their blood was still secret and special. The girl was not interested in being a shadow of someone else's story. She did not care about being a princess and she definitely didn't care about long, tangled strands of red thread. Real lives don't get arcs or stories, at least not neat ones. Arcs are for things that move burning across the sky, not for creatures of flesh and blood and love and flaws that crawl across the ground and can only look upward. Hope was going to find her own way. 

She raised her voice to the air and her nose to the north and shouted out some words to whoever was near enough to hear her. This is where a new story begins. She wagged her tail. She grinned. She barked - ! 

"I'M HERE, MOTHERFUCKERS!" 

[Ahsoka]

A h s o k a

#C11B17 * profile

The soft bundle of fur wrapped herself tighter, inching closer to the other soft bodies surrounding her. It had not been long ago now that this new little star had been given light, free to shine her new story across her mother's domain. She, like her siblings, would write the new chapters of their family's lineage, continuing the story that started amid groves of poppies. A few delicate butterflies still fluttered here and there, clinging on to life that had now been passed on to the stirring, twitching young stars. Their purpose has been fulfilled, to welcome these new chapters to the story, and now they would be written with every step, every breath that would be given by these new bundles of light.

Soft footfalls graced the stone floors of the castle, echoing off the walls and bouncing right to the ears of the child who stirred, ears twitching in response to the sound. Poppy red eyes flickered open, adjusting themselves to the faint light flowing in through the windows. She yawned and stretched before pushing herself to her feet, bangs all tangled and awry atop her head. Curiosity had motivated her to rise, and upon looking in the direction she heard the footfalls, she noticed one body was missing. On tiptoes, she carefully stepped around her siblings, making sure not to trod on a paw or a tail. She had only traversed the castle a couple times, but it wasn't too much of a challenge. All one had to do was follow the cooler air perforating from the outside. Stepping into the corridor, she followed the gentle winter breeze, along with the scent of her sister.

Reaching the entrance, the young child stepped out into the frozen landscape, the snow soft yet crunchy under-paw. She could see where Hope stepped and leapt across the ground, and Ahsoka was quick to follow. The snow flew up in a powdered haze as her paws kicked across the ground, her bedhead billowing back from the wind, surely not helping her case of having a bad hair day. With every step, with every breath, a new chapter begins. In the grand scheme of things, there may not be a main character, but each character has the potential to write a story, and Ahsoka was the author of her own story.

"I'M HERE, MOTHERFUCKERS!"

The girl skidded to a stop, ears perked toward the voice, and found her sister poised on a log, calling out to all of Gemini. Ahsoka couldn't help herself as she cracked a smile, shaking her head in amusement toward her sister's daring nature. Part of her admired her sister's confidence, yet she knew she could never be as brash. Still, her smile remained as she sprinted toward the monochrome girl.

"Sis!" she called out as she approached the log Hope stood upon. Once she clambered onto the fallen log, she didn't hesitate as she moved to touch her nose to her sister's cheek, if she allowed it. The young princess may be of a more reserved nature, but she felt most comfortable around familiars, especially family. "Hey, Sis! What brings ya up here?" She couldn't see why one would pass up the chance to stay warm when it was freezing outside, but she also had to admit the chance of adventure couldn't be passed up either, and this thought glimmered in her scarlet eyes.

[Embsay]

A breath of air touched his whiskers and he twitched awake, blinking and feeling the loss of warmth around him. His bleary eyes fought away the gloom in time to see the shape of one of his sibling drift out of sight. Yawning widely he pushed himself to his feet and looked about, realising not one but two of his siblings were gone. Curious. Where were they off too? Being far less careful than they, he extracted himself from the sleeping pile -he stood on what felt like a nose and then a tail but it was hard to tell in the dark- and set off in pursuit, claws clicking on the dusty stone. 

When he reached the outdoors he blinked against it: the bright light, the perfect white and the breadth of the world. His breath smoked in the cold air and he marvelled at it all through young eyes. Siblings forgotten, he listened raptly to the silence of the snowy landscape and leaned in close to watch a tiny spider scuttle up a dry grass stalk that surfaced through the icy blanket; once it reached the top it sat a moment, weaving invisibly fine threads into a kite that caught the air and lifted the tiny creature up and away towards the crumbling towers. There was a story being written here too, but Embsay did not realise it was his own, he did not think of himself as a character on a stage, but an observer in the audience that watched and applauded the clever tricks and tales of that master playwright Mother Nature.  

"I'M HERE, MOTHERFUCKERS!"

Hope's cry reached his ears and swivelled round towards it, seeing the trail of messy foot prints she and Ahsoka had left in the otherwise perfect sheet of white. He glowered in the direction of the small dark forms that stood out against the landscape. "You're ruining the snow!" Embsay shouted reprovingly at the two of them, wether or not they were close enough to hear. Extending a black paw he touched the snow, feeling the shock of cold shiver through him as he did so, and tried to smooth it back out over the prints. His little tounge stuck out in concentration as he tried to flatten it, but it made no difference, if anything it made it worse. Would it get better on it's own? He patted the soft white again, apologetically, and hoped it would. 

Embsay set out after them, very careful only to tread where they had trode and to add no new scars, though it was difficult and he had to do an ungainly sort of hop to ensure he matched the length of stride. "I'm Hope, I'm so loud!" He grumbled to himself, in a mockingly high impression of his sister, as he did so. "Why are you out here shouting anyway?" He demanded as he reached the base of the log and looked up at them both, a frown fixed on his face. 

There was room on the end of the log, but instead of easily stepping into an already empty space he opted to try and scramble to pull himself up between his two sisters, none to gently shoving them out the way unless they moved or blocked him. "Shift over! Let me up!"

Could it be a log for three?

[Ursa]

It’s true, everyone did think they were the main character. And they were, of their own story, whether it was writ in blood or engraved in stone. It might be told through messy paws turning the snow muddy. It might be penned in the delicate wings of frostbitten butterflies. It could be told through the howls of their King and her kin, through the singing of the wolves of the sea, through the crashing of waves against the cliffs, through the gentle plink of water upon stone in the castle’s cavernous belly. It might be soft, like the tender bellies of their young siblings. Or it might be hard, like the clattering of bone against a distant wall. It was hard to tell, they were so early into their individual stories.

(We’ll just have to wait and see.)

Their mother sleeps. She’s dreaming something strange, thinking of a world far away from this one. Her story started in mud punctured by crocodile’s teeth. It was dark and smelled of musty things, it sounded like rain and the cries of children ripped from the ones that bore them. It was the poppies shining in the eyes of her daughters. Her nose twitches and her paw shifts. A butterfly, hanging on still, lands gently atop her ear, and she is quiet once more. The Queen rests, because there’s so few opportunities for dreamless sleep. Her children stir, but they do not roam far. One after the other sneaks from within the castle walls. Hope announces herself to the world. Ahsoka follows in her footsteps. Embsay scolds them for the disarray they’ve brought into the world.

She wakes, as well. She follows and cares not for the difference between snow, stone, and butterfly’s wings. All things gave beneath her feet, or did not. That was the only difference, in the end. Things that gave, and things that didn’t. So she treads on ancient stone and dead butterflies, nose wrinkling as it hits the cold and deciding that it, too, would bend in the end. She could endure the crush of her family around her. She could endure this, too! And, there! Upon a hill, upon a log, stands her siblings, proud and defying the cold as she would, as well! Today was not the day she would be shown up by these three!

(Their older brothers would be laughing. Tauro would ask, “Who taught you the motherfucker word?”. But they weren’t here, were they? They defied something, too. And they lost.)

“Hey!” she calls across the snow, following the path her siblings had cut, the path of least resistance. She adds her mark to the collective, marching up the hill and peering up at the ancient kingdom her siblings had chosen to conquer. It fell long ago, once an ancient and proud thing now home to fungus and mold, all flaky bark and crystalline structures. She cranes her head back to peer up the crusted side at those who came before her, baring her teeth in a half smile. Truthfully, this castle was no doubt big enough for all of them, but where was the fun in that?

“Want to play a game?” she huffs, breath condensing as it hits the air. She has fire in her belly, too. Sometimes she swore if she tried hard enough, she could SPIT it. “Queens and castles,” she roughly places a paw against the log. “This is the castle, and the Queen is the one that gets to stay on it…” she pauses before she adds, rolling her eyes towards Embsay. Probably he would be the first to go. “Anybody who can’t stay on the castle will have to have their SKULLS PUT ON THE WALL!!!” HIGH STAKES! SPOOKY SKULLS! SO ARE YOU READY TO PLAY?

She was.

[Hope]

Sweet little sister followed Hope breathlessly across the snow and Hope stared at her with a hard, approving gaze. I will throw anyone who ever does anything bad to Ahsoka into the sun she thought. All the way into the sun. No question. Ahsoka smiled incredulously at the Knight of the Snowy Log, and Hope was eating up the attention.

"Sis!" Ahsoka said, scrambling up the log. Hope's immediate instinct, like a little goblin voice in her head, was to shove her sister off the log into the snow. GAhhh she wanted to do that but Ahsoka was cute and nice and so she shouldn't do that - the red girl touched a nose to Hope's cheek and in return Hope puffed out a huff of breath. Stop being cute Ahsoka I'm trying to justify pushing you off this log!!!! "Hey, Sis! What brings ya up here?"

"I want to be the tallest so I can see invaders to our home and kick them in the throat. This is a watchtower." Hope replied. "You should not be on the log, this is a DANGER ZONE." She says emphatically. "For one thing, someone could push you off."

"You're ruining the snow!" The voice of a little whiny baby said. Hope flicked an ear in irritation as he hopped through her footprints and tried to clean them up. "I'm Hope, I'm so loud!" Embsay mocked. "Why are you out here shouting anyway?"

"I'M SHOUTING TO KEEP ENEMIES AND DUMMIES AWAY BUT I GUESS IT DIDN'T WORK." She shouts near to his face, just to be irritating as she pushes both forepaws on his head as he tries to climb up the log. "YOU CAN'T COME UP HERE IT IS A DANGER ZONE!!!" But before she got a chance to explain why he wasn't qualified to be up here, there was yet another sibling who approached.

"Hey!" Oh shit it's Ursa. Hope lifted her head really high and tried to be TALL she wanted to BE TALL AND BIG!!!! Which is hard when both of her paws are on her brother's head! “Want to play a game?” Ursa begins. “Queens and castles, This is the castle, and the Queen is the one that gets to stay on it…” When the piebald girl puts her paw on the log Hope just S C R E E C H E S incoherently in that way that kids do. No words or thoughts, just pure emotion. Childhood was beautiful. Embsay was sure to get an earful. “Anybody who can’t stay on the castle will have to have their SKULLS PUT ON THE WALL!!!”

"No one is allowed to be Queen, mom is Queen! Are you doing a TREASON????" Hope says though her volume level is still set to Loud. "Ahsoka beat them up, RULE OF WAR!!! GO FOR THE EYES." And as though to prove the point Hope took the paw that had been on top of Embsay's head and flailed it around in the approximate area of the dark boy's eye. And they better not be mean to Ahsoka also because remember that if they do that, Hope will throw them into the sun.

[TranquilTempest]

AHH SORRY yes I am still all for this!! I just got back from Yellowstone last week and went right into band camp. I’ll aim for getting to it this weekend! <3