<font color=751715>*I don't just want to be your regret</font> [Sen]

This great favor she was doing for Makism and Tarquin had quite upset everything in her life. Her stomach felt massive � was massive � and completely awkward to move around with, something she had never experienced before. She had always been svelte, swift, and graceful. Now she was fat. Not fluffy, or curvy, or any other polite colloquialism. She was fat. And cranky. And it sucked. But she knew it was almost over, and she reminded herself as often as the uncharacteristic frustration rose up in her. Which was frequently.

This evening she was trying to distract herself by performing an old ritual: starting from her creek, she would pick a direction and follow it until�until what? She stood at the water�s edge, staring into the tired eyes that frowned back up at her. They did not dance, or swim with energy, but instead simply watched her watching them. Were she more herself at the time, she would have been more concerned about looking so rough.

Whatever.

She pulled away from her own reflection, randomly selecting a direction and moving through the trees. Even they seemed different � tugging uncomfortably at her taut sides and pulling at her fur as she passed. Couldn�t anything be as it should? Not much longer now. Deep breaths� No. She�d had too much for one night. Unable to control the new wave of irritation, she burst into a fat ball of anger, lashing out at the nearest low-hanging limb with her teeth.

It was a brief fit, restricted as she was by her additional weight, and she found herself standing breathless in the fading evening light. Before her lay the remains of what used to be a healthy, springy tree limb, its leaves still intact on their new shoots. The lack of damage she�d done was striking, and she tried to stifle a chuckle. But it kept creeping back, a little louder each time, until she�d given way to a full force fit of hysterical laughter. It was the genuine, tinkling laughter that had been absent all these weeks � since Sen, and Dante, and the bear, and the pregnancy.

It was her, risen to the surface for a visit.

they sing in clever tongues

oh, how my knees go weak

to be the one;

H U S H

five ** bound by Dante ** midwestern crater **

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