11-01-2016, 10:27 PM
So Sylva is kind of unbelievably perfect. Cool and crisp and cozy with early winter, weather that invites a girl to get all up close and snuggly with her man, spending the ever-lengthening nights tangled up in him, nose burrowed into him for warmth. One of the perks of being pretty tiny compared to my Rhory is I can steal all the body heat I want and he never complains. Not that complaining is his style, really. More sort of awed cuddles and touches and oh he does this cute thing where he rests his head against my belly and talks to the baby, even though I’m not even showing yet. I remember what it was like last time, and I recognize the changes in my body even if my shape’s still pretty much the same.
Whatever, anyhow. Sylva. Perfect. I’m still not awesome at the making friends shit though. That side of things is coming along slowly. I’ve explored a ton though, and I did manage to find this cozy little nook tucked away in the forest, a spot where these huge old (you know, as old as anything is in this newborn land, but they look old, and they feel it too somehow) trees form a sort of shelter that’s quiet and private and just right. I’ve already coaxed Rhory to curl up there with me most nights, not that he needed a hell of a lot of coaxing. And I can just imagine a teeny tiny little one curled up right along with us, tucked up against his chest, or sprawling out all over us the way Anni used to do with me when she was little.
Maybe a little boy this time? God, Rhory’s gonna be a great dad. Hell, he already is and the kid’s nowhere near born yet. Aaaaand let’s just not think too hard about the bit where that changes and I have to shove please god just one kid out of my body and don’t have anyone to patch me back up after and just have to hope to fucking god everything goes alright and I don’t NEED someone to make me not bleed to death or save the kid or patch me back up after I tear myself open pushing a giant goddamn person out of my lady bits fuck - nope. Nope. Breathe.
Breathe.
Pull yourself together, Arrya.
Right. Focus. What was I thinking about? No, before the big scary part. Oh, right, yeah. Making nice with the locals. It’s slow going, and probably I should try to do something about that before I’m waddling through snow drifts or some shit, yeah? Oh god it’s going to be cold. I mean, it’s already a little cold. Not quite enough to make me shiver, but enough that I’m already plotting to drag Rhory back into our cozy little nook and snuggle with him ‘til I forget it’s not summer anymore. Well, okay, fall. Summer was nice and all, but that was before things got all hot and interesting. Much better to pick after, and get so cozy warm I trick myself into believing it’s still the middle of fall.
Anyfuckinghow. God damn. Wandering the forest and shit. I try to keep the stomping to a minimum, to not jostle the poor little moonbeam - shut up, it’s not that lame. Okay, fine, it’s sappy as fuck, but nobody knows it but me. Whatever, I’m keeping the goddamn stomping to a minimum because I’m a good mom okay? And as such I can call my kid a squishy, sappy, hopelessly ridiculous nickname if I damn well want. Fuck off.
Exploring. NOT stomping. Hoping for some reason I’ve already forgotten that I encounter other residents or some shit? Oh fuck me, right, I was supposed to be making friends. Sorry, moonbeam. Mommy’s gonna work on that. Holy shit somehow. Another deep breath. Aaaand another one. Okay. And I am walking calmly through the forest, definitely not stomping and equally definitely not like half a second away from snapping at and/or throwing a whole lot of attitude at my nice, wholesome new neighbors.
I’m so fucked.
Whatever, anyhow. Sylva. Perfect. I’m still not awesome at the making friends shit though. That side of things is coming along slowly. I’ve explored a ton though, and I did manage to find this cozy little nook tucked away in the forest, a spot where these huge old (you know, as old as anything is in this newborn land, but they look old, and they feel it too somehow) trees form a sort of shelter that’s quiet and private and just right. I’ve already coaxed Rhory to curl up there with me most nights, not that he needed a hell of a lot of coaxing. And I can just imagine a teeny tiny little one curled up right along with us, tucked up against his chest, or sprawling out all over us the way Anni used to do with me when she was little.
Maybe a little boy this time? God, Rhory’s gonna be a great dad. Hell, he already is and the kid’s nowhere near born yet. Aaaaand let’s just not think too hard about the bit where that changes and I have to shove please god just one kid out of my body and don’t have anyone to patch me back up after and just have to hope to fucking god everything goes alright and I don’t NEED someone to make me not bleed to death or save the kid or patch me back up after I tear myself open pushing a giant goddamn person out of my lady bits fuck - nope. Nope. Breathe.
Breathe.
Pull yourself together, Arrya.
Right. Focus. What was I thinking about? No, before the big scary part. Oh, right, yeah. Making nice with the locals. It’s slow going, and probably I should try to do something about that before I’m waddling through snow drifts or some shit, yeah? Oh god it’s going to be cold. I mean, it’s already a little cold. Not quite enough to make me shiver, but enough that I’m already plotting to drag Rhory back into our cozy little nook and snuggle with him ‘til I forget it’s not summer anymore. Well, okay, fall. Summer was nice and all, but that was before things got all hot and interesting. Much better to pick after, and get so cozy warm I trick myself into believing it’s still the middle of fall.
Anyfuckinghow. God damn. Wandering the forest and shit. I try to keep the stomping to a minimum, to not jostle the poor little moonbeam - shut up, it’s not that lame. Okay, fine, it’s sappy as fuck, but nobody knows it but me. Whatever, I’m keeping the goddamn stomping to a minimum because I’m a good mom okay? And as such I can call my kid a squishy, sappy, hopelessly ridiculous nickname if I damn well want. Fuck off.
Exploring. NOT stomping. Hoping for some reason I’ve already forgotten that I encounter other residents or some shit? Oh fuck me, right, I was supposed to be making friends. Sorry, moonbeam. Mommy’s gonna work on that. Holy shit somehow. Another deep breath. Aaaand another one. Okay. And I am walking calmly through the forest, definitely not stomping and equally definitely not like half a second away from snapping at and/or throwing a whole lot of attitude at my nice, wholesome new neighbors.
I’m so fucked.