Bramblepoint one for sorrow

Magpie awoke with a start, foam dripping from the corners of her lips, green eyes wild. The hammer of her heartbeat was a welcome comfort, though it did feel like it was working to escape from her chest. But she was alive, despite the fevered nightmares that had plagued her since the miscarriage, and Magpie knew that she was lucky to be so.

That was the clearest thought she had since that night.

She pulled herself from beneath the thorny bramble, assessing herself now that she was lucid. She had grown thinner in the weeks that madness and pure instinct had taken her, but her body was less tender. Her mind still felt a little frayed— that if she were to think too hard about things, she would go back to being the feral thing she had turned into. That wouldn't do, or the nightmare would become reality. And so she decided right then and there to turn it off, turning her attention toward more physical ailments— like hunger.

Lucky for her, the brambles were thick with berries. Magpie would need red meat sooner rather than later, but the wild blackberries would remove some of the edge. Carefully, after licking the foam from her chops, the black-and-white woman pulled a mouthful of them from a branch and began to chew— closing her eyes to savor the taste, and the feeling that she was herself again.