Clara Archer (helpingwhatails) wrote in summerview, @ 2019-03-09 11:06:00 |
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Entry tags: | clara archer, complete, narrative, player: mena |
Who: Clara Archer [Narrative]
What: Shifting into something more comfortable
When: March 9th, early morning
Where: The Forest
Rating: PG
Clara had left a note for Sam and Kanuna that she'd be back on Monday, she'd managed to secure the time off at the weekend from Maeve and it hadn't been a moment too soon. Getting into the woods had been a trial, but she'd felt the itch under her skin, that bone-deep ache and exhaustion that came from a place that no amount of sleep could fix and she had tried to sleep it off. Though she hadn't had a chance to check in with Sam, yet, and that set her ill at ease, she knew she couldn't help him until she sorted herself out and living in a state of semi-permanent exhaustion wasn't good for anyone. She just about managed to shuck her jacket and jeans before the change started and she groaned, the sound echoing through the thicket that she'd stumbled to. She knew not to fight, though, and so she just crouched down on the ground and closed her eyes, taking a breath as she felt the Change. It used to hurt more than this, now it was a fluid shift between one form and another, though turning back into her human shape was definitely the more painful of the two transitions. She supposed that was because it wasn't her true form. No, it wasn't. But this? This was her natural form, the form that came as easily to her as breathing. Straightening up and standing to her full height, Clara gave a whole body shake, mane catching in the breeze as she hit her hooves on the ground beneath them, barely stumbling as she gently marked the nearby tree so she could remember where she had changed, to be able to collect her clothes, though her shirt was ruined. Lowering her head, she poked at it with her horn, a little forlorn huffing sound escaping her before the giddiness of being in a form that didn't constantly ache overwhelmed her. Hooves tapping a little in what could only be described as a dance, Clara turned her head and reared up before she broke out into a gallop through the woods, actually looking forward to spending the weekend like this, secluded and safe in the forest where, even if she was discovered, no one would know without looking deep into her eyes that it was her. And no one here, she was sure, had looked deeply enough into her eyes as a human to make that connection. She whinnied, the sound scaring a few birds away, rejoicing in the feeling of the breeze against her coat and the sensation of being free. |