The 27th

Chapter 36

As the storms ceased, giving the small yet distinguished civilization a chance to restock their dwindling supplies before the worse of the season, Thaelia was given other opportunities. Without her wolf, she was unable to hunt, which was what Arias was doing, somewhere deep within the dense forrest, downing several animals each day to ensure their survival. She helped to skin in the evenings but that was the limited of her abilities. She was not skilled in the art of scavenging either, unable to tell the poisonous vegetation from the contact and food safe ones and she didn't want to be a risk for herself or others.

No, whilst her mate was elsewhere, she stayed in his mother's herbal garden, tending to plants as she explained to her certain traditions and the pack culture. Other times, when the browning leaves had all been trimmed and nothing needed tended to, she mingled with some of the pack. While it was mostly the women who approached her, a few males had been thrown in the mix but they were either injured or underage, unable to help hunt for sustenance. She didn't mind though, in fact, she rather looked forward to these times.

Her hands were taught the art of sewing, the crafting of binding two cloths or fabrics together to create something whole. Her stitched weren't neat by any means and she often nicked herself with the needle but she was praised for her efforts and would improve in no time. At least that's what she was told.

Her brain remembered the recipes of different dishes she was now able and very eager to prepare for Arias. His mother pointed out his favorites made her catch onto those more quickly than others. It's gave her a task to do rather than to sit and watch him do all the work. She also found that she quite liked cooking though baking became her niche. They were matter of fact, routine, simple yet complicated. One simple mistake and the whole thing was ruined, something she learned rather harshly after burning and ruining many different pastries. To her, the simple fact of doing it right, something right, the sense of just peace.

Watching her baked good disappear from the counter one by one, sometimes a staggering number dissipating elated her. Although he ate them throughout the day, without her having to eat first, he always only ate half of them, leaving it up to her to finish the batch. The praises she received, the affections; kisses to her head, pressing his front to her back as she finished made her feel warm. The smile alone on his face as he comes through the door, smelling an enticing aroma of dinner and dessert made the minor burns and cuts all worth it.

Her relations with the pack was improving as was her knowledge of the language. She could pick up a few words here and there but she was far from making coherent sentences. Arias' mother acted as a translator for her but on the days she couldn't come, often from needing to tend to injuries made things a bit complicated. Though, despite the language barrier and being a complete stranger in such a close knit community, she was slowly settling in and finding her place.

With these interactions, however, came with unwanted attention. Nothing was ever said, just long staring to left side of her head they passed by. The most probable reasoning behind this was the onlookers wanting to check if she was claimed, or just curious about it but with those curious gazes to her head, they got a better look at her hair.

It still sat just above her neck, the chopped pieces giving it an unusual appearance as many of the other people here, men and women, had perfectly groomed hair. At first, it didn't bother her, just brushing it off but as the states grew longer, her self assurance dwindled away.

This is how she found herself sitting in the bathroom of Arias' parents house. The solid chair beneath her didn't groan as she shifted anxiously every few moments, unable to find a spot where she could relax. Her hands were no better, clench and unclenching, the fists or her flat palms running up and down her legs. Her breathing increased as she heard Arias' mother rummage through the drawers, metal clanking together as she gathered what she needed, which made her body tremble. The idea of sharp objects around her neck and ears still unnerved her, even if it were a trusted person doing it.

The elder women returned a few moments later, finding the younger in absolute shambles. The idea that the simplicity of a haircut could instill this much fear into someone broke her heart.

"We don't have to do this is you don't want to." She set the scissors on the counter, out of view so Thaelia couldn't see them but hear them as they met the counter.

"I want to." She defended herself, forcing herself to stop fidgeting through her body still shook involuntarily. "I'm just-" she hesitated a moment before exhaling heavily, "I'm just afraid."

"I promise you that I will not hurt you." The motherly figure knelt before her, brushing her hair back from her face, which revealed her scarred ears. She had her suspicions before after seeing a few on her neck but the ears just confirmed it. "Look." She turned her head, parting her hair to reveal one of her ears before doing the same to the other, the skin unmarred. "What they did to you was barbaric and cruel. We as a whole strive to ensure the safety and comfort of all who reside here, born here or brought." She looked from the forlorn face to the counter behind her. "Tell you what," She reached for one of the pairs of scissors. It was dull but could still effectively be used in self defense to cause significant damage. "If I hurt you, which I promise I won't, you can use those to do the same to me."

A shaking hand clasped onto the scissors tightly. She knew that the other women wouldn't hurt her, that is was against her values and teachings of her culture but she felt better having a means of defense.

"Thank you." She looked up to the all kind, smiling face who was being far too considerate.

"Just let me know when you're ready. You can take all the time that you need. We don't even have to do this today."

"No." She shook her head. "I'm ready."

"Just let me know if you want to stop, okay? We'll take this slow and at your pace." She stood and rounded the chair. "Is there a specific hair style you want?"

"You mean I can choose?" She glanced over her shoulder, eyes brows drawn.

"Of course."

"I don't really know what I'd get." She said before turning back around. "I've never been given the ability to choose."

"How about we just make everything one length and we can go from there?" She nodded as she heard the scissors leaving the counter and being transferred to a hand, making her tighten her grip on her own pair.

The first couple of cuttings were nerve racking but it got better when no blood was shed. Every brush of the neck or ear made her flinch but nothing happened other than the trimming of her hair.

Watching as the dark stands fluttered to the floor felt as if she were changing for the better, beginning to settle into a place where she felt welcomed, where she felt she belonged.