Timestamp: Winter 92, 513
She was curled in on herself with her hands protecting her head and neck and her body protecting the thick curve of her belly. The kelvic was nearing the end of the second trimester, now, the last twenty days just in sight. She had been feeling movement for some time now, though it was chaotic, random, and often left the woman shifting uncomfortably wherever she stood, sat, or lay. It would be a risky move to Shift now, but the woman didn't know what else to do.
When the foot came down on her already bruised ribs again, the mans voice hoarse with his yells, she could only yelp in pain and curl in more tightly still. The smell of alcohol was heavy in the tent and two of the younger women, wives to a pavilion that was allies with Autumnrun, but cousins to the Ankal, were begging and pleading for him to stop, one shouting in Common, and the other in Pavi, gesturing wildly. Cotice looked to them, his beard glistening with sweat, spit, and spilled liquor, with teeth bared and rage in his eyes. He shouted something back at them, pointing savagely then looked down at the trembling kelvic on the ground.
She was naked, the bruises along her side and back glaring black in the brightness of the tents brazier light. A cut had been opened over her left hip and another on her face, unseen by the hands which protected it. For a moment, Issy started to peak out, one bright eye shiny with tears appearing from the shadows of her guarding hands before that booted foot came down again, crunching just behind left wrist and soliciting an agonized cry from the woman as she jerked the hand away, tucking it in against her body.
One of the women at the edge of the tent hurried in and got in the mans way, pleading once more while the other came to Issy's side, brushing her hair from her face and resting cool fingers against her swollen cheek, cooing comfortingly. The man had gone completely insane; Corsal was not there to stop him this time, and all Cotice could see was that this shifter was not his wife, but some harlot which had snuck into his bed to steal his seed.
He wiped his lip and spat upon the shifter before turning and storming out. The two women took the opportunity to help her sit up, cooing and clucking comfortingly and eyeing the broken wrist with worry. One touched the swelling joint lightly and winced with the whimper that came from Issy before nodding to her sister to get one of the Opals.
But Issy had other plans. The moment Cotice was gone and the second woman had moved out of range, the kelvic shifted, a flare of color and light that came off more sickly than normal observed before the serval sat in front of the remaining woman. Though she kept her left mitt off the ground, Issy did not hesitate to make a dash for it. She limped as quickly as she could through the flaps, to the main tent, and then out into the snow-dusted world beyond; and she did not stop. Every hop sent pain through her body, swollen sides hard as a rock as she hurried through the snow which she usually adored.
She ran as fast as she could until she felt she could not run through the tangle of ropes anymore, not knowing where it was she was going, if anywhere, until the dark sides of one tent rose out of the dim evening , the flap-covered entrance barely made out by the light which filtered through. The serval gave a loud chirp, single and sharp, one of relief and misery, before coming to the entry and stopping.
It took an obscene amount of concentration this time to call back her human form and stand in the shadow of the tent with her uninjured hand around her breasts and under her armpit and the other held in front of her, the odd angle of it magnifying the severity of the break. "T-t-Taylani?" She called hoarsely, her words emotion-laden. "Gods, please be there...Taylani? Hallo! May I come in p-p-p-lease? It's very cold."
She was curled in on herself with her hands protecting her head and neck and her body protecting the thick curve of her belly. The kelvic was nearing the end of the second trimester, now, the last twenty days just in sight. She had been feeling movement for some time now, though it was chaotic, random, and often left the woman shifting uncomfortably wherever she stood, sat, or lay. It would be a risky move to Shift now, but the woman didn't know what else to do.
When the foot came down on her already bruised ribs again, the mans voice hoarse with his yells, she could only yelp in pain and curl in more tightly still. The smell of alcohol was heavy in the tent and two of the younger women, wives to a pavilion that was allies with Autumnrun, but cousins to the Ankal, were begging and pleading for him to stop, one shouting in Common, and the other in Pavi, gesturing wildly. Cotice looked to them, his beard glistening with sweat, spit, and spilled liquor, with teeth bared and rage in his eyes. He shouted something back at them, pointing savagely then looked down at the trembling kelvic on the ground.
She was naked, the bruises along her side and back glaring black in the brightness of the tents brazier light. A cut had been opened over her left hip and another on her face, unseen by the hands which protected it. For a moment, Issy started to peak out, one bright eye shiny with tears appearing from the shadows of her guarding hands before that booted foot came down again, crunching just behind left wrist and soliciting an agonized cry from the woman as she jerked the hand away, tucking it in against her body.
One of the women at the edge of the tent hurried in and got in the mans way, pleading once more while the other came to Issy's side, brushing her hair from her face and resting cool fingers against her swollen cheek, cooing comfortingly. The man had gone completely insane; Corsal was not there to stop him this time, and all Cotice could see was that this shifter was not his wife, but some harlot which had snuck into his bed to steal his seed.
He wiped his lip and spat upon the shifter before turning and storming out. The two women took the opportunity to help her sit up, cooing and clucking comfortingly and eyeing the broken wrist with worry. One touched the swelling joint lightly and winced with the whimper that came from Issy before nodding to her sister to get one of the Opals.
But Issy had other plans. The moment Cotice was gone and the second woman had moved out of range, the kelvic shifted, a flare of color and light that came off more sickly than normal observed before the serval sat in front of the remaining woman. Though she kept her left mitt off the ground, Issy did not hesitate to make a dash for it. She limped as quickly as she could through the flaps, to the main tent, and then out into the snow-dusted world beyond; and she did not stop. Every hop sent pain through her body, swollen sides hard as a rock as she hurried through the snow which she usually adored.
She ran as fast as she could until she felt she could not run through the tangle of ropes anymore, not knowing where it was she was going, if anywhere, until the dark sides of one tent rose out of the dim evening , the flap-covered entrance barely made out by the light which filtered through. The serval gave a loud chirp, single and sharp, one of relief and misery, before coming to the entry and stopping.
It took an obscene amount of concentration this time to call back her human form and stand in the shadow of the tent with her uninjured hand around her breasts and under her armpit and the other held in front of her, the odd angle of it magnifying the severity of the break. "T-t-Taylani?" She called hoarsely, her words emotion-laden. "Gods, please be there...Taylani? Hallo! May I come in p-p-p-lease? It's very cold."
Fallan said he would try to post in the morning so I figured that would be a good time for him to enter 