Tears stream down my face as I wail, unable to do anything other than that.
There is a hole in my chest that bleeds, all barriers between self and control broken. There was a void within the pain in my abdomen, where I could no longer feel my child growing. It was humanly impossible to feel a child growing at my stage of pregnancy, but I wasn't human, and I always had awareness of the little one, even though they did not have awareness themselves. I lived with the belief that day by day this awareness would get stronger.
But, oh, how cruel the world was to not let it be so.
The poisoning I endured at the hands of the wolves in the van with me had been much more lethal than the flower bouquet. The flower bouquet had only been enchanted to be so, but this was injected right into my bloods
