Mature Content Warning
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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: Brief description of loss of pregnancy (miscarriage)
Read only. The sequel to this thread. Dated for June 1st (meant to post this way sooner than I actually did)
The walk of shame was a novel concept to Vale. One that turned over and over again in her mind even in the days—weeks— that followed her own trek down that very road. She had her season and she went and laid with a man during it when she left to avoid men in the first place. And now? Now, she was in limbo.
What if she was pregnant? What if she wasn’t? The latter was the best outcome of this mess she made, wasn’t it? Kvarsheim was currently being run by not-quite children, but Gunnar’s sons certainly were far from adulthood. More children were far from what the pack needed. Not when scents of packmates grew fainter; some fading away into the wind. Newborns would not be able to pull away the mourning shroud that seemed to smother the pack.
She would have to leave if she was pregnant. The thought made her stomach twist. She had her doubts that Kvarsheim would force her to, but the thought of staying made her just as ill. To accept a kindness like that, well that was just taking advantage of the boys. Well, perhaps all the adults who stayed were taking advantage of them regardless...
Amadeo had offered her a place, should something happen. His word would have to do for now, but what if he didn’t keep it? What if she was on her own?
The ‘what ifs’ kept Vale awake at night.
The nights she spent away, the journey home having attempted to wash away her shame in the creek beds of Overture Downs, and the quiet reassimilation back into her normal routine; her mind swirled through it all.
Surely it was her nerves that kept her appetite at bay. She had difficulties keeping food down for a while now after all. The water she drank when food wouldn’t stay down went right through her. Well, that’s to be expected. That is normal when you’re ill. Ill was okay. Ill could be managed. Just so long as she wasn’t pregnant, everything would work out okay.
Her heart still skipped when pain lanced down her lower back in the middle of the night. Her blood ran ice cold as it spotted her thighs. Tear filled eyes would look around desperately, but she would bite her tongue. When the cramping subsided, she would hoist herself up onto unsteady legs. Earth would be gently turned over to bury the stains upon the grass, and she would hobble to the creek to wash away what remained upon her.
The cool water was a balm to an aching body, but it did little for the strain put upon her heart. Vale stared blankly as the pale moonlight stippled the water as the creek ran along its bed. The water being the only witness to her secret.
Why did nothing seem okay?
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