Hotaru
nothing's fair in love and war
As the ghost turns and bares her face, Hotaru’s breath leaves her in a stuttering exhale. Lungs ache as they try to relearn how to function in the face of such an enormous revelation. “Maea,” she murmurs in echo, less of a questioning tone than the voice that speaks her own name. Once it had been uttered, there was no denying the woman’s presence, ensuring she is no mirage concocted from the Valkyrie’s memories. The cold water of the swamp makes her shiver, skin pebbling, but she can’t bear to take her eyes from Maea. It seems the other woman doesn’t have the same problem. There is something accusatory in her tone as the evidence of her attack is discovered. Hotaru can’t find it in herself to feel regret. It is her nature, and has been long before she was ever granted the shape that did this damage. She is a harbinger of death. There is no space for regret or self-consciousness in the caverns of her construction.
“We all must eat,” Hotaru says simply, tone mild and betraying nothing of the turmoil more visible behind her eyes. Pausing, more entranced by the woman than the prey - even if it means the creature suffers longer for Hotaru’s selfishness - blonde hair cascades over one shoulder as she tilts her head. Examining. “Well. Not all of us. Does it bother you?” And if so, is it a new moral quandary now that Maea has no need for physical sustenance?
