let's go far away.

leilani likes to think that he's a rather happy being. he prefers to pretend that he's never had anything to be sad about. as long as he makes someone else happy, his own happiness is second string. he tiptoes a very careful balance of loyalty, promising his whole life away to his commanders, as long as he can make them proud. if he can't… well, then he really doesn't deserve to be here. which is why he works so tirelessly, constantly pushing himself further and further, constantly forgetting his own needs in the process.

it's a rare moment when he's put on duty outside, patrolling around the forest, carefully watching for galactic grunts. there's nothing to do, and the forest is quiet, completely still in an eerie way that makes his fur stand on end. but there's nothing he can do about that, he supposes. his commanders, his duty, comes first. so he swallows the uncomfortable lump in his throat, and uses his paws to push down and brush through the tufts of his fur that are sticking up in the cold air. for a moment, he ponders if anyone else is out on this particular shift with him. the forest is large, and it wouldn't be a surprise if there was someone else, somewhere in it, experiencing the same feelings. leilani almost feels sympathy then, for this other guard, that he's not even sure actually exists. the hideout is large, they've got so many members, but he's usually so busy he doesn't get to spend much time with any of them.

“there's a whole world out there,” pika used to promise him, gently kicking at the dirt under her paws, flexing her small claws. he would laugh, swinging an arm over her, singing a wordless melody of adventure by her side. kouhaku would pad beside the two of them, taking their seat on the other side of pika, drawing scenes in the soil with their claws and snout. they would spin stories, about all the adventures the family would get up to once they were free. even masaaki, moody as ever, would join in, quietly offering his suggestions for a getaway for them.

now, leilani is alone. he drags one claw weakly through the coarse dirt that lines the rougher edges of the forest, sketching out the outlines of his family.

pika's soft tails, masaaki’s curly mop of hair, kouhaku's sparkling fur, always pristine and clean. leilani pauses, pressing his paw flat against the earth. he breathes, and he thinks hard about each of them. about the scents they carry, about the way their voices merge together in perfect harmony under the setting sun.