Morning Sickness

Some days had passed since her return to the Mainland once more and after hiding away in bed for a few too many days, she knew she had to at the very least get into contact with work one way or another. A bird might have been plenty sufficient under normal circumstances but being gone for so long that even the leaves were starting to shift color, she knew hiding would only place worse marks on her image.

Her image. She was hideous now and she tried to hide it beneath the weight of a cloak for the day so eyes could not feast upon such a form she wasn’t confident in showing to the world. To think, last season she flaunted everything she had and now she was ashamed of what she could never get rid of. Scars, missing flesh from her face, hair no longer as thick as an arctic hare. It felt like trillions of eyes were forever upon her, every step she took watched and calculated. If she stayed a wallflower on this world, on this path to the courthouse to speak with Mithras. The cloak itself could give her enough confidence to traverse the brightest routes though she stayed a little more to the shadows this quiet morning. Entering Sussex, she would finally allow the hood to fall from hiding her visage, trying her best to keep a steady stride and calm mind as she tried to hold the gaze of anyone she passed instead of allowing them to shy away. She didn't want to seem afraid, nervous that any single beast could harm her just as that rat had.

The way some expressions twisted and contorted at her, ones she knew, former clients, it made her stomach lurch. Though she couldn’t tell if it was really from that or her pregnancy that seemed to make her feel worse by the day. Morning sickness had amplified and as if on cue, she felt a burning in her throat. Abruptly she’d rush over to the side of the street to puke over the ledge and down into the crashing waves below, losing everything she had taken in since last night, in seconds. Her cover had been tossed by the sea's heavy winds, revealing a good portion of her tattered, underweight frame and bulging belly where unborn children grew. She didn’t really notice it as she chose to lay down, hanging her head and paws over the crumbly edge.

The only thing that could make this moment any worse was if someone she actually cared about the opinion of appeared here to ridicule her. At least the least they could do is push her over the ledge with the vomit if they did and end her suffering.

table ; bunny