Deep in the Preserve, Monday Dawn
May. 19th, 2008 01:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
intraspectiveDawn came slowly deep in the preserve. It came with creeping fingers, slowly lighting up the forest leaf by leaf, stem by stem, and tree by tree. Her tree, fortified first to her satisfaction, and then further fortified, not once more, but twice over, was not spared the light. It did not touch her, not physically, not yet, but the change in the air as everything else woke was more than enough to rouse her from the small nap she’d permitted herself to have. She watched it, safe in her tree, and for the moment not moving. A moment of stillness before the battle started again. The calm before the storm.
Or something. Dawn had come. She acknowledged it with a wry twist of her lips. There’d be no more sleep for her until dusk.
Ino had, in the last few days, learnt to hate the dawn. And love it. Both at once. Two sides of the same coin, always wrapped around each other, inseparable.
The dawn made it harder to hide. And in her head, so used to thinking of nothing but the forms, the stances, the movements, that was a thing that repulsed her. Hiding was good, hiding was smart, hiding was safe--
And it infuriated her. She didn’t want to hide, not so far as she knew, but her mind’s revulsion to not hiding said otherwise. Not when she didn’t have to. Did she have to? Just to have things the way they’d been before?
That sucked.
She carefully rolled out of her tree and landed lightly on the ground, brushing ineffectually at the dirt that had woven its way into the fabric of her clothing, and grimacing at a twig in her hair—a souvenir, no doubt, of the nasty spill she’d taken around midnight last night when her chakra had given out on her while she’d be high up a tree and awkwardly positioned. The resulting tumble had left her with more bruises that ached and more twigs and dirt.
Whatever. Small stuff. Get over it. Get back to thinking.
It was good too, to be out in the forest, with nothing but her skill and the small stash of granola bars to rely on. Ino considered heading back up her tree to get one but, with a shake of her head, decided not to. She wasn’t hungry. Not really. Maybe later.
Back to thinking then. It was, by now, an almost automatic switch as mentally she stopped regarding the forest as ‘safe’ and went on alert. There. The only enemy was in her mind, in her head, but that didn’t matter--
It was enemy enough.
Dart over there, under that branch--still too slow!--and then up--but using only the slightest sliver of chakra, she didn’t have any to spare after drawing on it so much with so little rest; she didn’t need any more than that though.
Better control.
That got a faint smirk as she flung herself from one tree to another; sure-footed and confident that she shouldn’t be seen, silent and well-aware of what her body was capable of. A wobble, quickly corrected, made her pause for a moment. Then, firming her determination, Ino went on.
She didn’t have to listen to her body. Resting would have to wait. It would wait.
Already she felt better, more confident, and clearer of thought. It wasn’t all about her--she’d known about that before, but it was harder to bring that into perspective. Especially when she, a large part of her, wanted it to be all about her.
It wasn’t, it wasn’t. You know that, so do something about it.
Did she owe people apologies?
Ino didn’t think so. Some of her points still stood. And some of it she still didn’t think she’d been in the wrong for. Even if it had been stupid, or childish, or whatever.
It wasn’t fair, but slowly oh so slowly it was making sense in her head, coming clear, letting her see past the veil she’d drawn over her eyes. So she didn’t come first to anybody, not a single person in the whole world--get over it--but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t care about them. It didn’t mean they didn’t care at all.
It still sucked. Was she always going to come last?
Still hurt too. Made her almost miss a step and go down to one knee up in a tree, suddenly breathless, as she reevaluated her reserves, her strained reserves--maybe I should’ve eaten after all?--
Whatever. She’d be fine. Because she always wound up being fine. Fine.
What was she going to do about all of this?
Pushing off from the tree, swinging downwards, and landing lightly before she darted off. Thinking. More of it was needed. She had until Wednesday. Not showing up then would be giving up, giving in, refusing to fight.
And Ino had no intentions of just giving up. That was the cowardly way out. Yamanaka weren’t cowards.
Even when it’d be easier to be.
[Establishy.]
Or something. Dawn had come. She acknowledged it with a wry twist of her lips. There’d be no more sleep for her until dusk.
Ino had, in the last few days, learnt to hate the dawn. And love it. Both at once. Two sides of the same coin, always wrapped around each other, inseparable.
The dawn made it harder to hide. And in her head, so used to thinking of nothing but the forms, the stances, the movements, that was a thing that repulsed her. Hiding was good, hiding was smart, hiding was safe--
And it infuriated her. She didn’t want to hide, not so far as she knew, but her mind’s revulsion to not hiding said otherwise. Not when she didn’t have to. Did she have to? Just to have things the way they’d been before?
That sucked.
She carefully rolled out of her tree and landed lightly on the ground, brushing ineffectually at the dirt that had woven its way into the fabric of her clothing, and grimacing at a twig in her hair—a souvenir, no doubt, of the nasty spill she’d taken around midnight last night when her chakra had given out on her while she’d be high up a tree and awkwardly positioned. The resulting tumble had left her with more bruises that ached and more twigs and dirt.
Whatever. Small stuff. Get over it. Get back to thinking.
It was good too, to be out in the forest, with nothing but her skill and the small stash of granola bars to rely on. Ino considered heading back up her tree to get one but, with a shake of her head, decided not to. She wasn’t hungry. Not really. Maybe later.
Back to thinking then. It was, by now, an almost automatic switch as mentally she stopped regarding the forest as ‘safe’ and went on alert. There. The only enemy was in her mind, in her head, but that didn’t matter--
It was enemy enough.
Dart over there, under that branch--still too slow!--and then up--but using only the slightest sliver of chakra, she didn’t have any to spare after drawing on it so much with so little rest; she didn’t need any more than that though.
Better control.
That got a faint smirk as she flung herself from one tree to another; sure-footed and confident that she shouldn’t be seen, silent and well-aware of what her body was capable of. A wobble, quickly corrected, made her pause for a moment. Then, firming her determination, Ino went on.
She didn’t have to listen to her body. Resting would have to wait. It would wait.
Already she felt better, more confident, and clearer of thought. It wasn’t all about her--she’d known about that before, but it was harder to bring that into perspective. Especially when she, a large part of her, wanted it to be all about her.
It wasn’t, it wasn’t. You know that, so do something about it.
Did she owe people apologies?
Ino didn’t think so. Some of her points still stood. And some of it she still didn’t think she’d been in the wrong for. Even if it had been stupid, or childish, or whatever.
It wasn’t fair, but slowly oh so slowly it was making sense in her head, coming clear, letting her see past the veil she’d drawn over her eyes. So she didn’t come first to anybody, not a single person in the whole world--get over it--but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t care about them. It didn’t mean they didn’t care at all.
It still sucked. Was she always going to come last?
Still hurt too. Made her almost miss a step and go down to one knee up in a tree, suddenly breathless, as she reevaluated her reserves, her strained reserves--maybe I should’ve eaten after all?--
Whatever. She’d be fine. Because she always wound up being fine. Fine.
What was she going to do about all of this?
Pushing off from the tree, swinging downwards, and landing lightly before she darted off. Thinking. More of it was needed. She had until Wednesday. Not showing up then would be giving up, giving in, refusing to fight.
And Ino had no intentions of just giving up. That was the cowardly way out. Yamanaka weren’t cowards.
Even when it’d be easier to be.
[Establishy.]
