Timestamp: Fall 63rd, 513
Issy was furious. She worked at such a pace that she did not even notice the pricks of blood on her fingers that were staining the scarf she had been working on since earlier in the fall when Dastina hired her. The kelvic wore a look of such stricken rage that even Bensil did not come help when she began to knot the material.
Cotice had taken his sweet time after they’d left the revelry of drinking and gossiping , enjoying stripping her of her clothing and exploring her body with his rough hands before eventually taking her to the bedroll for proper addressing of his desires. And beneath him, she had seethed and glared, hoping in silence that perhaps he would break himself so that she would be relieved of him for a time and be let to leave long enough to quiet her temper. But he had not…and now, her body and heart exhausted, the shifter could not escape the apathetic apologies that that fool Oryani and her brother had tried.
They had killed him and all they could say was ‘I’m sorry’? Her heart thump-thudded loudly in her breast and Issy caught a stitch with the needle when it was pushed through improperly, and tore it. Dastina had been watching quietly from nearby when she had entered in her fit and began to work, the threads too tight, and now the scarf badly damaged. She had been doing so well, too! The seamstress got to her feet and went across the tent to take the material from the Autumnrun resident, speaking gently that she should walk it off and that Dastina would repair the damage so that she could resume when she returned.
Grumbling about it but not arguing too much, Issy got to her feet, brushed her palms down her blouse, and left the tent into the sunlight. She turned down the horse-printed path and moved along it between the tents, growling under her breath until she finally came to a bend where some crates had been stacked. Here, the woman stopped and went to sit upon one of the crates, leaning back against the pliable firmness of the tent and sighing in agitation. “This is ridiculous…why can I not just leave?”
The cool autumn wind billowed down the corridor of canvas and ropes and pulled at the woman’s clothing, making her turn her head to one side and close her eyes, hating the feel of it on her skin. “Because I do not even know where I am…how can these wretches live like this? Lost in this endless plain…” But that wasn’t even what she fretted over, what had torn the garment she had been knitting fervently away at all season. “I should like to make the girl lost, I think. Tit for tat and all that.” Her words were more for herself and not for others, so she was not prepared for anybody to be eavesdropping on her.
“Show her the pain of such loss…Hmph, ignorance, what an idiotic kit she is!” Issy rubbed her open palm across her stomach, the hard lump in her lower abdomen felt once more. “But then I would be all the worse off. I do not understand how these people know so much about all of this. It’s as if they have eyes and ears everywhere!” She had not been taught about the web other than to be told that she was part of it now, whatever that meant.
“Oh Tyveth…would that I had the strength to act out Justice on that stupid girl. But that is not your way. And here, among these horsemen and slavers, I feel forsaken. Lukyc was a good man, honorable and strong. But that bitch killed him and all I feel…all I feel is grief and rage. Can you not help me rise up again? Wysar, will you lend me your integrity that I may persevere? Knowing what happened now…” A sob hiccupped in her throat and the kelvic fell silent, a hand over her eyes and an arm draped across her belly.
Issy was furious. She worked at such a pace that she did not even notice the pricks of blood on her fingers that were staining the scarf she had been working on since earlier in the fall when Dastina hired her. The kelvic wore a look of such stricken rage that even Bensil did not come help when she began to knot the material.
Cotice had taken his sweet time after they’d left the revelry of drinking and gossiping , enjoying stripping her of her clothing and exploring her body with his rough hands before eventually taking her to the bedroll for proper addressing of his desires. And beneath him, she had seethed and glared, hoping in silence that perhaps he would break himself so that she would be relieved of him for a time and be let to leave long enough to quiet her temper. But he had not…and now, her body and heart exhausted, the shifter could not escape the apathetic apologies that that fool Oryani and her brother had tried.
They had killed him and all they could say was ‘I’m sorry’? Her heart thump-thudded loudly in her breast and Issy caught a stitch with the needle when it was pushed through improperly, and tore it. Dastina had been watching quietly from nearby when she had entered in her fit and began to work, the threads too tight, and now the scarf badly damaged. She had been doing so well, too! The seamstress got to her feet and went across the tent to take the material from the Autumnrun resident, speaking gently that she should walk it off and that Dastina would repair the damage so that she could resume when she returned.
Grumbling about it but not arguing too much, Issy got to her feet, brushed her palms down her blouse, and left the tent into the sunlight. She turned down the horse-printed path and moved along it between the tents, growling under her breath until she finally came to a bend where some crates had been stacked. Here, the woman stopped and went to sit upon one of the crates, leaning back against the pliable firmness of the tent and sighing in agitation. “This is ridiculous…why can I not just leave?”
The cool autumn wind billowed down the corridor of canvas and ropes and pulled at the woman’s clothing, making her turn her head to one side and close her eyes, hating the feel of it on her skin. “Because I do not even know where I am…how can these wretches live like this? Lost in this endless plain…” But that wasn’t even what she fretted over, what had torn the garment she had been knitting fervently away at all season. “I should like to make the girl lost, I think. Tit for tat and all that.” Her words were more for herself and not for others, so she was not prepared for anybody to be eavesdropping on her.
“Show her the pain of such loss…Hmph, ignorance, what an idiotic kit she is!” Issy rubbed her open palm across her stomach, the hard lump in her lower abdomen felt once more. “But then I would be all the worse off. I do not understand how these people know so much about all of this. It’s as if they have eyes and ears everywhere!” She had not been taught about the web other than to be told that she was part of it now, whatever that meant.
“Oh Tyveth…would that I had the strength to act out Justice on that stupid girl. But that is not your way. And here, among these horsemen and slavers, I feel forsaken. Lukyc was a good man, honorable and strong. But that bitch killed him and all I feel…all I feel is grief and rage. Can you not help me rise up again? Wysar, will you lend me your integrity that I may persevere? Knowing what happened now…” A sob hiccupped in her throat and the kelvic fell silent, a hand over her eyes and an arm draped across her belly.
