It's just too hot and Willa does something about it


-- On Pern --
It is 11:23 PM where you are.
It is late night of the first day of the sixth month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.
In Igen:
It is the first day of Summer and 98 degrees. It is a hot, miserable night.
In Southern:
It is the first day of Winter and 50 degrees. The rain is starting to slack off, large puddles and runoff streams have formed everywhere. The wind is eerily quiet. Belior and Timor remain cloaked behind heavy clouds. From farther off, the flashes of lightning light up the whole sky as echoing booms of thunder rumble in the distance.
In Southern Mountains:
It is the first day of Winter and 5 degrees. It's cold and dark out.


Telgar Steppe; Willimina and Tallel's Yurt

OOC Date 10 Mar 2018 07:00


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He'll be crushed…


Telgar Step; Willimina and Tallel's Yurt

Unlike the outside of this dwelling, the inside of this round tent puts the bolder, more flamboyant side of Tallel's Zingari roots on display, though it's now been augmented by all that the rest of his family brings to it. While simple in layout, there is nothing simple at all about the intricate weave of the rugs thrown down upon the light, portable wooden slat-work spanning collapsible frames. Deep wine red is the most commonly found hue, though gold, green, and silver are found as well in the hangings that drape the tent walls at even intervals. A low, wide table to the left of the hanging door serves as Tallel's primary workspace for grinding herbs and mixing medicines, while another one further off to the right - round, this time - is laden with wood and steel serving ware and makes up a small dining area. Cushions lay around the yurt in abundance for sitting, the largest pile of which obscures the low mattress on which he and Willimina sleep. Nearby, a couple of folding dividers fashioned of woven reeds and silk partition off the beds their children sleep in. A few braziers for incense and candles, as well as some round red glow baskets, hang about the ceiling, which tapers up to a vent that can be shut against the weather but is wide enough to give a nice view of the night sky in the evenings.

It’s a quiet, late night on the Steppes, the rodeo is over and the Zingari have decided to prolong their stay on the plains, the clans much enjoying the reunion. And Willimina could not refuse her daughter the extra time here, seeing how she’s flourished with the runner loving Kheeriin.

Willa can’t sleep, and she’s done trying, she’s back to being abed all day since the rodeo and it’s driving her mad. And why is it so hot? She rolls carefully and slips out of the bed with only the barest of grunts, one hand going to her lower back, the other running over the large swell of her belly. The time would be coming soon. Just a few sevens left. Maybe if she walks she’ll ease the pressure in her hips. SHe begins pacing the yurt, hand massaging her back and hips. It helps a little.

The next thing she does is attempt to pile the wild, almost knee length mass of her curly hair atop her head. It still manages to hang over her neck, which wouldn’t be an issue if it wasn’t so damn hot. Fanning herself, Willimina pours a glass of water and drinks it, eyes wandering around her family’s yurt and landing on each family member in turn, starting at Tallel and ending with Taliana. She feels a sense of pride, standing there, watching her little family sleep. Well, her not so little family, and about to be much bigger.


She could hardly believe it herself, but it runs in the families, and Saydinna had mentioned she thought it was twins from when Willimina began to show. Perhaps she should have listened to the woman. S’ayde’s mother had birthed several sets of twins. It really was a flabbergasting moment though, when the realization completely kicked in.

Two at once.

It’s bound to be a challenge, and one she very much looks forward too.

Willa finds she sort of wishes they would come now. She wants to meet them, and to stop feeling so stretched and uncomfortable. Really. She feels like a shipfish. Her mind lightly runs over the names that she and Tallel have been discussing. They have a solid list, but nothing firm. Part of naming a child begs to wait until the child’s face is seen. She’ll know the names when they’re born.

Willa shrugs out of her robe, leaving herself in just the oversized nightdress she’d donned before bed and pours another glass of water. Sweat begins to bead at her brow and she could swear a fire was building deep in her center. She feels as warm as the days they find they must travel during the day in the desert and Rukbat is beating down at his most merciless. She finishes the water and is still too hot, the hair at the nape of her neck beginning to become heavy with the dampness of perspiration. She lifts the weight of it off her shoulders and lets the cool air drift across her skin. It feels divine.

She tries again to pile all of her hair up. But without proper pins, and a set of helping hands, she can’t. The weight of it sags to her shoulders.

Damn it.

A thread of desperate and frustrated thought runs through Willimina’s mind. I’d be a lot cooler if I just cut the sharding mass off…. Looking over at Tallel as the thought crosses her mind, she sighs. He would be crushed.

But it’s so hot….shard it…

Willa almost caves to the desire to keep her hair for Tallel’s sake, but then another wave of heat rolls through her and the decision is made. Moving to one of her trunks, Willimina locates and pulls out a sharp boot knife, one of her Da’s, and begins hacking away at the curly mass surrounding her head. Very quickly there is a pile of hair about two to three feet long at Willa’s feet. Running her hands through, Willa sits back with a sigh. Much Better. Her head feels ten pounds lighter. What’s left, hangs to her jawline in an a-line bob with fringed ends from being cut with a knife.

Cool air slides across her shoulders and neck and Willimina is definitely sure she’s made the right decision. Tallel may mourn the loss of her hair, but it will grow back, it always has.

Carefully, she cleans up the shorn hair and disposes of it, coming back to bed feeling much better than when she’d left it. She makes sure she has water by the bed, knowing that she probably shouldn’t push her limits for being out of bed much. Tallel worries over her enough as it is. She sighs, and tries once more to go to sleep, already anticipating the discussion her shorn head will cause in the morning.

Big changes are on the horizon. A new chapter of life is opening, with the twins coming, and Lillia making decisions about her own life, so why shouldn’t Willa change and feel new too?

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