I might have talked about this in several other pieces of literature, in comments and texts, but I’d like to take the chance I got – thanks to an artist and her incredible sketches (if you want to support her, you can do so on her Ko-Fi-Page. The donated money it not for herself, but her volunteer work. So you’re doing two good things for the price of one by helping her out) – to explain some things about this quite odd bird:
Luane is a cocky, arrogant, stubborn and highly boastful Lugia lady. She lives for the challenge – but not for the challenge itself. To be precise: She lives for the victory. To be even more precise: Not for the victory itself, but for the defeat of her rivals. She’s got a vicious pleasure in putting everything else in their places (which is WAY below her), push them down, disgrace everyone who even DARED to try and compete with her. She enjoys people, birds, everyone looking at her, whispering a „Damn, I’m not crazy enough to challenge THAT beast!“
Sometimes she encounters rivals that pose quite a challenge. Well, challenge meaning „she can’t crush them too easily“. But as she doesn’t want to give in her pleasure to crush even those, she resorts in using dirty tricks, taking shortcuts or even tactical ramming to take her „enemies“ out. An opponent being slightly injured might raise eyebrows at the finish line (and inflict a LOT of complaints and arguing afterwards), but she even enjoys these arguments with a triumphant grin. All that counts to her is the victory, everyone else doesn’t matter. In her point of view, SHE is THE Apex Alpha, NOBODY is allowed to even come close to her. And everyone to tries to challenge her is an enemy – someone she fights will all means necessary, no matter how tiny they may be.
AFTER another crushing victory she doesn’t reside in just enjoying another triumph. If you’ve ever heard of the term „sore loser“, well, SHE is a „sore winner“, making fun of her rivals, boasts on how easy it was to crush them, how weak everyone else is and the latter. As I stated before: Her rivals aren’t just competitors, in her eyes everyone trying to beat her or even join a competition, is an enemy. She fights her enemies with all her power, without taking her back, without taking health or rules in regard. The only rule to her is the rule of the winner. And she knows very well who that’s supposed to be: Her. And she’ll use every little bit of strength she has to make sure it stays that way.
Doing so, pushing herself to her limits and beyong them on a regular basis, puts a lot of stress on her and her body. Considering how reckless she flies and thinks about her rivals, she equally reckless thinks of her own capabilities. To her, weakness doesn’t exist, she doesn’t allow herself to be weak. Being in need of help or depending on someone else is a sign of weakness.
Constantly pushing her body to the limits takes its toll, as she only rests when she really HAS to. So it comes to no surprise the ankle injury she suffered more than 15 years ago never really healed, got re-injured multiple times. She’s rolled that paw so often, suffered so many (she never counted. Got to be more than 40 right now) sprains and resprains her paw can only barely support her weight. But despite the fact it causes her so many problems, fills her leg with a continous, throbbing pain, she denies both rest and help with it whenever she’s able to. More so: She’ll go out and lie about it, telling stuff like „Everything’s fine“ or „just took a bad step“ or similar excuses, usually followed by swearing words to be left alone.
Her biggest flaw and weakest point, leading to even hateful comments and reactions on her part (including throwing stuff around or even plain physical assaulting) is her heart. She grew up believing she was unique, precious, untouchable – and she established a huge no-touch-zone around her, never allowed anyone getting close to her. Every male trying to gain her trust or even love ended up with at least a few bruises (or worse), so nobody ever tried again to do nice things for her. She wanted her isolation, she got her isolation. And she was fine with it – until someone got close to said no-touch-zone, but never dared to cross it, never seemed WANTING to cross it.
He offered her refuge when nobody else would, never asked for anything in return. She never had to say a single word, move her eyes on or off him or even point in a direction – he seemed to never want to advance on her, accepted when she ate all his food reserves (again), even performed some minor alterations to his hideout to help her feeling better in it without ever asking her if she wanted or needed them. He didn’t even flinch or fire back at her when she attacked him – either with words or with a forceful wingslap. He simply turned around, flew off, was gone and kept more distance between them afterwards. In the beginning she was just confused by this behavior, then she tried to ignore it. But in time, over the years, she felt a throbbing emptiness in her chest she tried to deny with all her strength. But this strange feeling kept returning, hit her at night and early in the morning.