Honeyed Pasture That's it Sir, you're leaving

Attempts to find friends had been soured, the woman's stomach more round and growing steadily daily - her own issues with it. Stopping to urinate what felt like every three steps, stilling herself to listen not only to the pale figment at her side but to the whispered voices she heard: the woman made slow progress. She had to get out of the pack's borders. She had to get away from Aria's unwarranted hatred. She had done nothing out of spite; instead out of instinct, of a blooming affection. How was she to know that tragedy would strike so soon?

This brought up a wave of unwanted emotion in her, the lithe woman's body freezing on the spot as she stopped and willed the emotions away. Being a blank slate, submitting to nothing but her own choices, that was safer. Thinking of Lasher, thinking of the Taltos - it only made her hurt and ache. She had not had the courage to come to his children and tell them the truth; not after speaking with Aria. 

She expected anger from them too, maybe to felt robbed of something. It sapped her good spirits, leaving her a bit jaded and guarded. So she left the forest and set out for the broad fields, looking for a reprieve from the suffocating feelings and memories. The sun was setting and her slow progress had presented her with a haven. She could bed down and sleep beneath the stars - most likely the spirit would cling to her, and she swore that she felt his touch, knew his presence. It was comforting. 

Beyond her, a dark figure moved, and her eyes narrowed for a moment as she tried to make it out - she could not, not clearly, but the pale woman did not recoil in fear. That had been willed away too.