The Little Mornings

*Malalia* · 07-08-2020, 10:10 PM

She flicked her ears, snorting softly at the “particularly acceptable” bit. Soon, she turned her eyes to study the blades of grass across the way. "I see."

Nothing to be ashamed of? Easier said than done. The young woman couldn’t exactly disagree… in principle. But with her scent as stark as a single cloud in a clear sky, she couldn’t help but feel at least a little abashed. Malalia scarcely wanted to rejoin her packmates. Everyone would be able to tell, and really, how was that so different than reading her mind? Jeez… She shook her head, a long-suffering exhale slipping away. Get out of your head. She was far from the first female to go through her heat, and she seriously doubted her packmates would think of her differently. Working herself into a worry certainly wouldn’t help; if anything, it could make her more agitated.

At least it wouldn’t be a constant feeling, as Aurielle had pointed out. And she could mitigate the pain, too. The Spirit soon dug into her saddle bag, bringing out several herbs that the tawny woman sniffed over, ears twitching as she explained their uses and how to brew them into a tea. The warmed stones method was interesting, drawing memories of sunning on the rocks of a beach. She blinked up gratefully. “Thank you. For all of this. Evidently, I am... pretty clueless." Not that Iolaire wouldn’t have helped the Reaper, had she asked, but the Valhallan happened to be the first to find Malalia, and was kind enough to lend her aid in more ways than one.

She cocked her head. “Ah… you don’t have anything for the scent, do you?” For once, she spared a bit of a laugh: “I might’ve been swimming in the river if you’d found me a minute later than you did.”

"Speech"

Login
Username:
Password:	Lost Password?
	Remember me