War Technicalities [UNDER REVISION]

Helsinki Condition

[Unrevised. 5 Years Old. Prepare for inconsistencies with previous chapters.]

The tension in the air was suffocating Haley as she rode back to the village with the troop, her fingers holding her horse's lead with an agonizing strength, her nails threatening to cut into her palms. Despite the fact that she knew Carver lashed out at her relationship with an ape for the pure sake of causing exactly that, she felt nauseated as she unwillingly mulled over his words and allowed them to eat at her conscience, because she knew he was right – the day that Koba first ravaged her against her will, she knew not just his actions but the entire scenario was wrong, and every time she rediscovered the aftereffects of his strength, a few hidden and nasty scars on her torso and back, this knowing only grew more clear. And yet, she couldn't imagine stepping away, nor speaking up about it, the mere thought tensing her muscles in trepidation of what may happen to her – in fact, it sent an odd trickle of fear down her spine, but of whom? Or better yet, of what?

Lament glossed Haley's bright brown eyes to a filthy shade of mud when they fell on the backs of Caesar and his son, guilt suddenly striking at her and making her slow her pace, the apes merely parting and passing her to follow their leader without a pause. The group seemed in an odd haste when she slowed to a stop, the distance between her and the council members growing with every passing moment, but despite the fact that their shrinking forms lacerated her heart, she didn't budge from her spot while her horse stomped in protest, the result of her little experiment the exact same as the one she expected; like she was never there, the gap where she once rode behind Blue Eyes, his father, and his father's second filled with another ape, erasing her absence without a second's pause. Again, she wondered what she feared so much: was it the fact that she wormed her way into the village by a dilution so fragile it can be shattered as easily as the glass of a light bulb, like how a chimp once did when he accidentally crushed an abandoned one under his foot in the woods, or was it the fact that her only place was by Koba's side, a place so agonizing that she had to pretend it was something real for two years, despite the fact that his first touch still haunted her and granted her with numerous sleepless nights. Or maybe, was it Koba himself that she feared? The last chimpanzee passed her as she bit into her lip, a question lurking up on her: is it even possible to fear someone and also love them? For her sake, she hoped it wasn't and that only love lived in her, but like always, another clever mind quickly picked up on her distress, though his touch to her shoulder only made her hop on her saddleless horse with a yelp.

No surprise, Haley immediately knew who it was and glared his way, silently commanding Maurice to stop sneaking up on her, oblivious that it was the old orangutan's subtle way of testing her reactions, which only caused his worry to swell over the past two years when he saw her jumpy behavior growing worse. "Sill tired?" He signed and motioned to her fidgeting horse before he continued forward, forcing her to follow if she didn't wish to ignore his question, nor her horse's clear impatience, so she did, no matter how annoyed by his tactics.

"You know I am." She grumbled when she caught up – Maurice felt the urge to point out she sounded a lot like ape whenever she grumbled in annoyance, but he had enough of a mind to stop himself.

"Nightmare?" He repeated her word in his deep and rumbling voice; he knew she was troubled by the human's insults, but he also knew the damage of whatever her nightmare was didn't have the chance to fade, and the small and reluctant nod he got only confirmed his suspicion, "What was it about?" he asked carefully, "Young apes feel better when they explain."

Oddly enough, Haley didn't hesitate, the urge to talk about what she dreamt too strong, but her explanation was nothing like what he expected. Time and time again, Maurice heard tales from the younglings – all different, but all so much alike. In every one of their night terrors, they had a similar villain: a dark and menacing shape in a white cloak. Whether this silhouette was trying to throw the small apes into small spaces, like a raccoon's hollow or a fox's hole, or if it was poking them with some oddly shaped metal point, he knew it was caused by some older ape's tale of the human doctors in Gen-Sys, but Haley's nightmare was different – he had an odd suspicion that it scared him more than it did her.