12-23-2016, 03:17 AM
@Emmeline Woodcroft - for Keavy O'Fannon
24 December, 188611:28 PM
Banshee knew the baby swelling within her stomach had to be about ready to show up. Her back had been absolutely killing her off and on for about half the day, so she'd spent much of the day asking around, to see if anyone knew of a midwife in the immediate area. She really ought to have done this much, much earlier, but she had had her mother to help with much of the being pregnant. Spells to manage the swelling of her feet, and such. And the younger siblings would occasionally steal an extra apple or biscuit for her.
That couldn't stop this from coming.
So when she woke up, in the huddled pile of Simmons, with a distinctive feeling of overt pain in her abdomen. The first thing she did was try to rouse her mother - she could only rouse Giggle, who just hugged her arm and told her to go back to sleep. Which was when Banshee realized she was on her own.
Following the directions given to her by those who had been willing to speak to her, Banshee took the more central roads (if you could really call them that) through the slums to the house she'd been directed to go to, that stolen wand out and held it against the fold of her dress, just barely concealed from view. A hidden advantage against anyone who might try to attack her.
And that brought us to where we are now - Banshee standing at a stranger's door, leaning against it with her face screwed up in pain as she hugged her belly. Another minute and a half passed, and the brunette straightened, using the hand of the arm she had hugged herself with to knock on the door. Finally.
"Hello?" she gently called into the building. "Please...please, I need help. Please. I don't have anyone else to go to."