The Field

Who: Ryan and Delilah
When: late morning
Where: the spring

Delilah ... had no idea how to feel. She'd woken up pleasantly sore and entangled in Thorne's limbs. It wasn't as though she hadn't known how she got there. That was the problem, she remembered everything. It was hazy and surreal, but she'd retained it all. Ryan, all the fun she'd had on her own, and then Thorne. Two men in one day, that had never happened to her, ever. She knew it had been the pollen, and it wasn't as though she was committed to anyone or anything, but ... still. She'd left her lean-to as carefully as she could and headed for the spring to clean up. Halfway there she stopped, blue eyes widening as the realization hit her that there'd been absolutely no protection used. She hadn't been on the pill even back home; she'd had bad reactions to it in her younger years. She was a firm believer in condoms and ... oh gods.

Her immediate first impulse was to find Ryan and warn him. Then do the same for Thorne. She couldn't believe she might've gotten pregnant under the influence of flowers, for fuck's sake! Shaking a little, Delilah forced herself to start walking again. She would clean up first, she would think, she would go back to consult the sticks and bones she'd collected, and then she would come up with a plan. Shit. Shit shit shit shit.

( Shit shit shit shit shit shit damn. )