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The Least of My Kind
#1
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16th April, 1889 — Morwenna's Office
@Elinor Goyle
Morwenna ought to have known this day was going to be hard one. She had grown accustomed to waking up on the floor of her cellar with the unspeakable ache of her bones having reformed themselves - as much as one could become accustomed to such a thing at any rate - but this morning she had opened her eyes to face the day and immediately thrown up. Actually being sick wasn’t new either, but propped up on her weak arms it hadn’t taken her long to notice that she was bringing up the remains of the flesh that had been torn from her own arms the night before.

It would teach her to not fill her stomach before a transformation again at any rate.

Bandaged and raw she had managed to make her way into the office, leaning on her cane as surreptitiously as she could as she passed people she was supposed to lead. Luckily most of them were inclined to mind their own business and she closed the door of her office the moment she could, quite sure that if she made it through this day then she would be forced to reconsider the faith of her youth she had abandoned many moons ago.

Within the first hour she had fallen asleep at her desk. When a knock came at her door she shot awake, filled with panic-fuelled adrenaline and almost indignant - she had taken to purposefully rescheduling meetings around the moon and hoping nobody noticed. Apparently somebody hadn’t gotten the memo.

“Come in!” She called, already feeling bile rise in her throat as wakefulness and pain reminded her of quite how broken she was.
[-] The following 1 user Likes Morwenna Skeeter's post:
   Elinor Goyle


[Image: Morwenna_SIG_by_Bee.png]
bury me with this Bee set
#2
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It tugged at the back corners of her mind, a fact that she should know, did know in some respects, but had not quite brought to the forefront yet. It was much like the chill one got when their grave was stepped over, or the nagging sense that something of importance had been left at home. It was a fast moving target, one she just barely missed with each and every throw—not because she was no good at throwing, but because she was not aware the target was even there.

It was not a feeling that led her to her mentor's office but paperwork—understandable indeed, given their professional relationship. Still, the smile on Nora's features that often greeted the older witch fell into a frown of concern at how poorly Morwenna Skeeter looked.

"You don't look at all well, Mrs. Skeeter," she pointed out as kindly as the words could be said, the paperwork all but forgotten. "Can I get you a glass of water? Maybe some brandy?"

Swiftly, Nora's grey eyes surveyed the older woman—her pallor, how disoriented she appeared—and the appraisal was not a favorable one. Frankly, Morwenna Skeeter looked as though she had clawed herself from the crypt that morning, though a great deal cleaner, at least.



MJ never ceases to impress ♡ —
#3
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Had it been anyone else Morwenna’s only retort would have been a brusque instruction to get out of her office but instead she managed a weak smile for her favourite protege, though she doubted either of the offered drinks would make any difference to her current state. She felt painfully weak, the extra effort it was taking to simply keep her head upright was rapidly beginning to drain what little strength she had been able to muster than morning.

“I don’t-”

Abruptly the room span, Elinor became little more than a blur, and Morwenna’s head became intimately acquainted with the surface of her own desk as she lost the battle with gravity.

She screwed her eyes up tightly - feeling rather childish as she did so - and prayed that the dizziness would soon pass. Apart from anything else she was quite sure she could feel blood begin to seep through the bandage on her left arm: dressing her own wounds had apparently not been as successful as she had hoped. Morwenna groaned quietly, feeling as pathetic as a newborn foal, wishing the earth would hurry up and swallow her whole.


[Image: Morwenna_SIG_by_Bee.png]
bury me with this Bee set
#4
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Merlin's beard!

The papers Nora had been holding fell to the ground as she rushed to her mentor's side. A sense of dread she hadn't expected washed over her as she realized how woefully unprepared she was to deal with anything of a medical nature. She was many things, but she was most assuredly not her brother!

"What's wrong?" Elinor asked urgently, one hand resting lightly on the woman's back and another more heavily upon Mrs. Skeeter's forearm.



MJ never ceases to impress ♡ —
#5
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The room continued to spin, at a marginally more tolerable pace, but not so much that Morwenna felt as though she could lift her head. She was reasonably sure she wasn’t going to be sick though so that was a small mercy – a very small mercy given that she doubted her favourite protégé would ever look at her quite the same again.

“I’m…” She blinked heavily, swallowed hard and kept very, very still; she wasn’t sure what she meant to say. There were any number of things wrong but she was still alert enough to focus on the most pertinent one. “I’m bleeding,” she twitched her arm underneath Elinor’s hand, the pressure neither hurting or helping the wound. “Quite a bit I fear.”


[Image: Morwenna_SIG_by_Bee.png]
bury me with this Bee set
#6
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A warm dampness reached the flesh of Elinor's palm as the words left Morwenna's mouth: I'm bleeding. Impossibly, she jerked her hand back with a start, eyes widening further—they must have looked like saucers by now, Nora thought—as she looked at her mentor with a mixture of surprise, concern, and just a hint of suspicion.

"Merlin's beard!" Nora exclaimed in spite of herself, in spite of the etiquette driven into her from her earliest years, in spite of the respect she bore Mrs. Skeeter—but then, Mrs. Skeeter did not come into the office inexplicably bleeding. No, this was an entirely different creature. "What's happened?!"



MJ never ceases to impress ♡ —
#7
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Elinor, I have bitten myself, no need to worry.

Elinor, I may have gnawed off half my arm as I didn’t sufficiently fill my stomach before I transformed into a wild beast last night, silly me.

Elinor, I have been a werewolf for some time now. Sorry not to have mentioned it…

“Elinor,” she said weakly, lifting her head from the desk with weariness but, thankfully, less nausea. “I would be much obliged if you would apparate me home.”

She certainly couldn’t stay here. Not like this. Potentially not at all if she was wrong about the young woman in front of her she had come to rely upon so much.

“I will explain, I promise.”
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   Elinor Goyle


[Image: Morwenna_SIG_by_Bee.png]
bury me with this Bee set
#8
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"No."

Elinor Goyle had never refused Mrs. Skeeter anything, and her refusal now surprised even her. Something kept her from explaining properly—that she needed medical attention instead—and so the word hung uncomfortably in the air between them, Nora uncertain what to do next.



MJ never ceases to impress ♡ —
#9
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The denial took her aback and Morwenna stared at the younger woman with an ever-deepening feeling of helplessness. She couldn’t explain herself here, not where the walls might have ears and any one of her employees might be hovering just outside the door. Merlin, if it got back to the Wizangamot she would be done for.

She wished, not for the first time, that the limits of magic were not so defined. How was it the Department of Mysteries could play with time itself and yet they were no closer to curing lycanthropy?

“Elinor,” she tried again, steeling herself as she looked her protégé in the eyes, forcing back the tears of pain and shame that threatened to fall. “I can’t stay here, if somebody other than you sees me…”


[Image: Morwenna_SIG_by_Bee.png]
bury me with this Bee set


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