what's a little sweetheart like you
doing with a bloody nose?
doing with a bloody nose?
576 Posts
Ooc —
—
Offline
If anyone had ever bothered to tell Raleska the misery that was pregnancy, she would never have entertained Dacio's advancements at all.
At first she had hardly noticed a change, but when it came it hit her like a stone dropped from above. If she wasn't nauseous, she was ravenous -- and in between she felt like a slug inching from one gluttonous table to the other, hideous and fat and ugly. A lethargy and a fire had overtaken her at once; at times she was full of a strange zeal to keep her mind busy and her feet moving, and at other times she was possessed of the most listless spirit.
During one of her fits of energy that came and went like a summer storm, Raleska had fashioned a den for herself in the Moor's northern bluffs; here she could catch the prevailing scent of sea on the wind, and hear distantly the thrum of the ocean. The den was tucked under the collapsed shade of sitka spruce, and was protected by dense vegetation and forest screen.
Emerging from the hollow she had dug, Raleska shook the dark loam from her fur and breathed. An intuition told her her time was near -- how soon, she did not know -- but as of late, she had grown even more isolated from her pack and now was only seen occasionally slipping towards the coast.
At first she had hardly noticed a change, but when it came it hit her like a stone dropped from above. If she wasn't nauseous, she was ravenous -- and in between she felt like a slug inching from one gluttonous table to the other, hideous and fat and ugly. A lethargy and a fire had overtaken her at once; at times she was full of a strange zeal to keep her mind busy and her feet moving, and at other times she was possessed of the most listless spirit.
During one of her fits of energy that came and went like a summer storm, Raleska had fashioned a den for herself in the Moor's northern bluffs; here she could catch the prevailing scent of sea on the wind, and hear distantly the thrum of the ocean. The den was tucked under the collapsed shade of sitka spruce, and was protected by dense vegetation and forest screen.
Emerging from the hollow she had dug, Raleska shook the dark loam from her fur and breathed. An intuition told her her time was near -- how soon, she did not know -- but as of late, she had grown even more isolated from her pack and now was only seen occasionally slipping towards the coast.
all of which makes me anxious,
at times unbearably so.
at times unbearably so.
« Next Oldest | Next Newest »