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The smell of the herbs was overpowering, as Laura put the mixture into Lenore's hair. It was made from some scrubs and dried gooseberries, she had explained. It was an ancient recipe from a place called India, apparently. Though all of that still did barely register in Lenore's mind. What did register though, as the fact that when Laura pulled out the comb, it glid so much easier through Lenore's dense locks. It still twinged a little, but it was nothing compared to the pain she had gotten used to, when those maids in the household had tried to tame her hair.
Now Laura was just sitting there, by the side of the wooden bathtub the inn had offered, combing through Lenore's hair. There was something comforting in that touch. Something soft. Familiar. It was how Lenore imagined it would be when a mother took care of one. Not that she would ever know, given her mother had died so long ago.
She closed her eyes, sighing. She was still afraid. Because she did not know where they were going. South, Laura had said. She knew a place that was safe. Only that Lenore did not believe that such a place would ever exist. Because she knew one thing: There were wars everywhere. Humans liked their wars. It was just a fact of life. Down there, she was certain, there would be wars as well.
She could die in the sun now. Unable to go out. Not that she wanted to. But now she would die, if she tried. She could die so easily. And she was afraid of that, too.
“It's alright,” Laura promised, as if she was reading her thoughts. She could do that, she had said. “We are going to be alright. I promise.”
“I can feel it,” Lenore whispered. “The hunger.”
Her mistress took a bowl of water, using it to rinse out Lenore's hair. Those thin fingers gently rubbing her scalp. Another feeling that was good, Lenore supposed. Because she was certain of one thing. Somehow. She would trust this woman, who had been kinder to her than most people Lenore had ever met in her life.
“I know,” Laura said softly. “I am sorry for it.”
“Can I…” Lenore started, but Laura shook her head.
“You'll have to wait until tomorrow night. We cannot hunt too much, or they will notice us. Then they will hunt us in turn. It won't be good. But you will survive. Feeding every two nights has to suffice.”
Lenore slowly nodded. It was not as if she had a choice.
She was like this for a month now and their travel was only slow. They had almost reached the coast, though. And Laura had said they would find a ship to get down to the continent. That after that they might get a wagon. That in the end they would be safe.
Once more Laura rinsed Lenore's hair, before gently putting a hand onto her shoulder. “I know it is a lot. But you will learn. I will make sure of it, you see?”
Lenore nodded once again. The water was slowly getting cold, as Laura handed her a towel to get out of it.
Her body felt different from before. From when she had still been a human. It felt smoother, she had found. Moving around was easier, making her feel like a cat at times. And she would get quicker, Laura had said. Once she was getting older, she would get even quicker, maybe even gain some abilities like flight.
Lenore had always wondered, what it would be like to fly.
As Laura got naked to take a bath herself, Lenore found herself standing in that little bathhouse, fogged up by the steam. Laura had offered her some oil for her skin. Another thing that smelled so intensive of herbs. She had offered her more things than Lenore had even had in that stupid noble household.
But then again, she had only ever been a prisoner there, had she not? A prisoner. Something to be used. A wild prisoner from the north. Something to be tamed.
The scars had not vanished. Even though her new body healed out every new wound within hours, the scars from her old life remained. Those little burn wounds, left there by simple pettiness. And the big one on her stomach. The one that would not go away. The one that would've killed her, if it had not been for Laura.
Taking the oil, Lenore rubbed on it, as if she somehow could just wash it away, even though she knew it would not happen. That scar for be there forever. Quite literally, given that she could not die any longer, by anything but violence and the sun.
And yet, she would've been dead a month ago, if it had not been for Laura. She already had died once. And so had her daughter.
None of this had ever been supposed to happen. In a different world, she might just have grown up on the castle of her parents. In that different world, she would still speak her own language and might've gotten to know the son of another Learch. In that other world she would not have…
She wrapper her arms around herself, trying to hold back those emotions that would still take her every other day. Why had all of this happened? Why had it happened to her?
She did not cry, because she knew that if she did, those tears would fall red as blood and would leave her even more hungry. Because she was no longer human.
So she would not cry.
Then Laura was there. Being her. Wrapping her arms around Lenore to pull her in a hug. “I promise it will get better,” she whispered. “I promise you will be alright.” Once more fingers softly ran through her hair. “You'll see. Once we get to Styria, we will be safe. You'll be alright. I promise.”