Hunter's Woods Writing Prompts

   Her family... She knew them well.
   ...Didn't she?
   Well, of course she did. They might not have all been especially close, and they might not have had the most traditional familial relationships, but they were what they each had. The dragon god and its disciples... they were family. Like a parent and their many children, kids all wrapped up in a friendly rivalry, helping and pushing each other to grow. It was hard sometimes, and there were moment that she feared she wasn't up to snuff, but she was glad for it, glad to have her family. That was the truth, the facts of the matter.
   Yet... Can truth and reality be different from one another?
   Surely not.
   But...
   There was another family, once. One in the depths of her mind, pushed so far back she couldn't recall. Not only names and faces, but their very existence - Not quite forgotten, but suppressed to the point that they might as well have been. What had happened to separate them? She couldn't recall. She couldn't recall having them in the first place.

   She had left them, hadn't she? Fed tales of the gods and their greatness from birth, painting pictures with her brother of their stories, the crushed up dyes of flowers and berries staining their paws... When the opportunity arose, even as young as she had been, of course she had approached it and offered her life in devotion to it. A promise that she would train to perform the duties of a deity, to help do her part keeping the balance of the worlds. She would become its disciple, whatever the cost might have been. Anyone would jump at the opportunity.
   Had they supported her? They must have. To train beneath the deities themselves... it was an honor, to be sure! And her family had told her so much about them, after all. They must have been so excited, so proud.
   But she couldn't remember, could she? Because she couldn't remember them at all any more.
   That was the choice she made, the cost she paid.

   Her siblings didn't look at all alike. Some of them weren't even the same species. Cats among them, but not alone - There were lions, too, and foxes, hyenas. Other ones as well.
   It made sense. The dragon god wasn't a cat, after all. So why should they all be cats? It could create them in whatever image it pleased. And that was a good thing, because they each had unique strengths and weaknesses. The lions, big and strong and regal. The hyenas, tough and hardy. The foxes, sharp and clever. And the cats, the ones closest to her...
   Well, she wasn't sure what she had that the others lacked, if she was being honest. It worried her, sometimes. Was she obsolete? But... no, there had to be something. The god had given her this form for a reason. It only made sense.
   So she wasn't as powerful as the lions, or as rugged as the hyenas, or as quick-witted as the foxes. That was... fine. It was fine. She was a hard worker - What she lacked inherently she would overcome through her training. It was fine.

   Would she have been better off if she'd never left? She didn't know. I mean, she couldn't remember leaving at all.
   She had never felt any sort of inadequacy as the little kitten whose eyes were still blue with youth. She was loved and supported there, praised for her attentiveness and creativity and how well she got on with her brother. She was bright there, caught on quickly to things even without being taught. Her brother had been so excited when she realized, at such a young age, that she could mix the hues of the crushed up petals to create new ones. He hadn't even begun to explain it, yet she understood it so easily, figured it out on a whim.
   She'd never had to fight to be recognized then, never had to struggle for greatness in the way she did after she let herself change and forget. Was that a good thing? Would she have been better off living an average life as an exceptional individual? Or was it better that she chose to work so hard for a life that was somehow more?
   Was that life really more at all? Was there any real, meaningful difference in value between the two?
   In the end, did it matter?
   Her choice was made.
   It was what it was.