Mythical
Donatello often wondered on the definition of a mythical being.
Sometimes, he wondered if anyone would classify them as mythical. By definition, mythical beings didn't exist. But their existence was a one in a life-time phenomenon.
But not once had Donatello heard a gasp of awe at the initial sight of him as he lurked in the shadows. Not once had the fascination for them been born out of anything but malice and cruel intent. When had their deeds and abilities been revered or elicited anything but gasps of horror?
Sometimes, it made Donatello wonder on the term. What made something mythical? Was it the disbelief? The improbability or lack of factual evidence? Was it born out of legends? Was it a thing of horror, or a thing of fantasy?
Could you be mythical when the world didn't even know you'd been born?
Sometimes, the thought would take root in his heart, and stay there, nibbling away at the inside.
But only sometimes, because when he looked at his brother and father, something within him settled. Donatello decided that mythical was fundamentally something that was not real, and did not exist.
And he decided that he didn't want to by mythical, if it meant the values and love of his family were worth nothing to the world.
He was happy being ordinary.
In his own extraordinary way.
AN: Sorry for the delay. Life's been quite busy. Inspired to keep going by the flood of new drabbles by notawordsmith