dahlia [completed]

❁⋆꒱ her first memory is warmth. a soft, comforting warmth of a mother tenderly tucking her young kits against her side. it's accompanied by a gentle voice that sounds like a lullaby, murmuring so low it could barely even be heard. 


when dahlia's little eyes blink open for the first time and blurrily look up to her mother's face, she's greeted by soft eyes to match the soft purr on her lips. but even then, with such blurry vision the small kit can only make out colors of silver and green, dahlia can see the hollowness hiding in her mother's gaze. the happiness was only physical. it was only a mask.

❁⋆꒱ little over a moon old and dahlia is up to mischief alongside her brother, hyacinth. the other kit in their litter had passed shortly after they were born, but that was okay because their mother had told them that they were now reunited with their father in the great beyond. he'd been hit by a monster while crossing the thunderpath on his way home to them, but ivy assures her kits that he's still watching over them. dahlia doesn't understand how that can be, but she doesn't try to ask, too afraid to see that hollowness return to her mother's eyes.

besides, dahlia has plenty to be entertained with, living in the small commune of cats within twolegplace. though there are only five or six of them in total, with some constantly coming and going, all of the cats have such interesting stories of being former kittypets. at first, dahlia is curious – but perhaps too much for her own good. approaching the eldest of the group, a grizzly she-cat called cinder, to hear her story, she spits out the word kittypet and twoleg like it's something rotten she's just ate. dahlia quickly grows to understand that it's not something she should bring up lightly. the others tell the curious kit the reason for cinder's hostility:


they all had twolegs of their own, until one day when they woke up and they were gone. dahlia can't imagine something as awful as that happening – they must be lying to her to scare her. but she thinks of her mother and the father she never met... and the next time dahlia sees her mother, she peppily tells her she could feel her father watching over her all day. it's a lie, of course, but it brings a content smile on ivy's face.

dahlia decides right then and there that she'll never leave her mother. and she's certain her mother will never leave her or her brother.

❁⋆꒱ moons pass and the nomadic band of outcasts has settled into a new temporary home. dahlia proves herself useful after her keen nose is able to pick up the scent of fox under the fresh layer of snowfall, preventing it from taking the life of one of their motley crew just in the nick of time. this catches the attention of their de facto leader, a tom named rowan. without a father figure in her life, dahlia feels visible and seen when she's under the wing of rowan. he teaches her his techniques on how to hunt and track prey, how to ambush and attack. now at only six moons of age, dahlia is still impressionable enough to eagerly pick up rowan's habits, swallowing them down like they're tasty morsels of mouse.

but tactical skills aren't the only thing he imprints the young she-cat with. he teaches her everything she needs to know about how to survive. rowan calls them the "harsh truths of life". her brother, hyacinth, calls them "heartless". dahlia thinks her brother is just jealous rowan hasn't paid as much attention to him, so she ignores and brushes him off each time; rather, she carefully watches rowan –

as he takes the last piece of stored freshkill for himself, despite the fact that several cats, including the elder cinder, hadn't eaten yet:


as he willfully ignores a vicious fight between two of their own after a miscommunication escalated to blows:

as he teases her during battle training by purposefully using moves he knows she can't counter yet:


but the most important thing she learns from him is that anger always wins out in the end. whenever another cat from the group dares challenge his authority, it's only a matter of minutes before it's shut down. he was the strongest. what was it that made him so strong? was it his passion? his willpower?

no.

when dahlia looked, rowan's eyes blown wide, claws digging scores into the dirt, venom spitting from his tongue, all she saw was his rage. and that was why he was so strong.

❁⋆꒱ a thorn in her side appears in the form of a small black tom. he is a bit skittish, but friendly and is praised for his knowledge of healing herbs. the other cats in the group seem to like him, but dahlia doesn't appreciate the way he begins to hang around her mother's side like a burr. she's thrilled when rowan confides that he doesn't entirely trust this newcomer either – "salem". rowan says that anyone who chooses to keep their kittypet name after being abandoned is still in the lap of those who betrayed them. dahlia silently agrees.

as sunrises pass, ivy and salem only seem to grow closer. dahlia becomes a constant presence in her brother's ear, complaining and deriding the tom all she can. hyacinth gently inputs that perhaps they should be happy their mother looks so light again. but all this does is make dahlia's stomach flip and turn uncertainly in her belly. because hyacinth was right – she did look lighter. ivy had always been a dreamer at heart, idealistic and optimistic to her core, and salem seemed to bring this out of her more and more.

watching them share freshkill together in the dim twilight, dahlia can only recall the chilling words she had been told by the others as a tiny kit:


the thoughts that intrude in her mind are ones she wishes she could claw out of her system through force. because they pose a question that dahlia fears the most: would ivy abandon her and hyacinth after all...?

❁⋆꒱ not a half-moon later and an opportunity arises. dahlia sneaks off to follow salem as he stealthily sneaks back into the heart of twolegplace. from the way he traces his steps, its a route dahlia knows he must have traveled time and time again. it leads them to a twoleg den; and there, dahila gathers her evidence with vengeful glee.

by the time salem, none the wiser, returns to their little camp, dahlia has already told rowan how she'd witnessed the black tom cozying up and rubbing against a twoleg to receive food. though she is still rather young at this time, not even seeing a full twelve moons yet, a newcomer's stuttering words versus one of their own? rowan's decision is harsh, but final.

even as she watches the back of salem trotting away to his banishment, tail down and ear shredded thanks to one spiteful rowan, all dahlia can feel is her victory tainted by the taste of bitterness on her tongue that she still doesn't feel satisfied...

❁⋆꒱ life should have returned to normal after that. dahlia had been expecting for it to. instead, it only gets worse as ivy falls horribly ill. she cannot keep any food or water down and only seems to turn more and more into a husk of her former self as days go by. without the help of salem, they are all at a loss for what to do.


dahlia refuses to believe the words she hears being whispered around corners and in shadows. but she is alone in her thoughts. even hyacinth has taken to tracking down salem on his own, desperate for any chance to heal their mother.

in doing so, he leaves dahlia on her own to witness ivy's last breaths. dahlia is the only one to see her eyes glaze over, barely even flickering shut before she is gone. dahlia stays there, frozen in shock and grief, until ivy's body turns cold.

but dahlia's turns to fire.

❁⋆꒱ where can her flames touch besides the ones around her? before she knows it, her grief morphs into anger, and all she can think to do is lash out at everyone else around her. before ivy's body is even buried, dahlia is on an emotional rampage, and no one is safe.

rowan. he had been the one to drive out salem. he was supposed to be their supposed "leader" but all he ever did was look out for himself. he never cared whether ivy lived or died.

hyacinth. he had left her on her own. he'd vanished when she had needed him the most – when ivy had needed him the most.

the rest of the outcasts. they had all known about ivy's sickness and had done nothing about it. instead, they'd stood by idly while watching ivy's only chance at survival slink away.

dahlia snaps. as they all gather together to bury ivy, she places blame on each of them without remorse. she needs them all to know that it was their fault her mother had been taken away from her. even when rowan confronts her attitude, she refuses to listen. she tells him that he is the most at fault. when the argument turns to blows, dahlia thinks she can overpower rowan – after all, her fire is stronger, angrier, and doesn't anger always win out? instead, her fire is caged and she can do nothing but choke on the suffocating smoke and ash.

overwhelmed, dahlia flees. she runs far, far away, until the sight and scent of twolegplace disappears. she runs until her lungs are begging for air and her legs tremble with each step.

but no matter how far away she gets, she can still hear the echoes of her broken voice ringing in her ears:


with a sob, dahlia collapses into a pitiful pile of fur and lets her tears lull her to sleep.

❁⋆꒱ she's all alone now. far from her home and unable to return back, an unknown territory of wilderness spreads out around her as far as she can see. now more than ever she feels lost in more than one way. she looks around to blame someone for her predicament – anyone. but the only one left to blame is herself.

it was her fault her mother died. it was her fault she lost her brother and the only father figure she'd ever had. it was her fault she was all alone.


blank green eyes stare into her reflection within a small stream. the hollowness in her gaze brings her back to her first memory of warmth – to the same emptiness of loss and sorrow she had seen on her mother's face that day. it was such a shame that dahlia looked so very like her... yet had none of the same compassion, gentleness, composure, or selflessness to speak of. but dahlia still continued to stare, a naïve eagerness to see some semblance of her mother still living on through her.

and it's then and there that a determination forms within dahlia – a determination that has her chasing the future in an effort to forget the past.

it's all she has left.

❁⋆꒱ now, in a new forest offering her the chance for a new start, dahlia seeks to change herself. in this unknown place where only strangers' faces greet her, she's able to leave the past behind and forge a new future – a new her.

only time will tell if the mask becomes a reality, or if reality will catch her first.

a pretty grey tabby bicolor with light green eyes

faceclaim: lexi