show them the joy and the pain and the ending
She is angry. Not angry in a way that one must scream or cry or rage. Not angry in a way that makes one tear worlds apart, nor in a way causes one kick and claw at the nearest unfortunate soul. Hers is a quiet sort of fury, one that builds inside her chest at the ironic injustice of her fate. One that feels like a bubble far too close to bursting, but simply refuses to.
It is uncomfortable and infuriating all at the same time.
And the worst part is, there is absolutely nothing she can do about. She had been torn from that world, the one where she had love and life and happiness. The one where she had been queen. And she had been placed back into this hollow echo, to live a life of unfulfilled youth.
She is growing, but not fast enough. Never fast enough. The gift she had been given (oh, she could so easily tear worlds apart now if she so chose) is little but a consolation prize. A thing given to sooth her wounded soul.
It is not enough. It never would be. Not when compared to what had been taken from her.
And so, somehow, she finds herself in the forest, her restless ire forcing her from her arid home. But here is no better. It is simply more green, more humid. More annoying. With a huff, the roan and white girl stops, blue eyes sweeping upwards to the offending canopy overhead. With an incredibly focused attention, one designed to take her mind off the bubble of resentment ever growing within her chest, she slowly, methodically, begins tearing apart leaves, breaking them down with only a thought until nothing but dust remains.
heartfire
i filled up my senses with thoughts from the ghosts