What we can endure
#7
It was true; Shiloh was scaring Orin, but it was for reasons other than those that made the grey one fret. The very sight of the woman was a reminder of the danger that loomed just around the corner and of the things that could happen to her or her daughters. It told her that Cercatori was not the safe haven that it seemed. Sure, they had a measure of protection inside their pack’s borders, but both Orin and Shiloh were living proof that borders weren’t always enough to keep evil out. Some terrible thing was happening to Shiloh’s pack right now, and it could happen to d’Arte at any minute. For all they knew, Maska’s goons were on their way here right now. The world wasn’t safe, no matter how hard they tried to make it be.

Orin tried to swallow - a simple task made laborious by the sudden dryness of her mouth. She looked away as she hoisted Shiloh up, trying to diffuse her fear. She didn’t want to upset the woman any more than she already was. The girl had suffered extensive injury; just looking at her Orin wondered if there was a time in her life when she ever wasn’t injured… and she knew the answer to that. No. From what Shiloh had already revealed in their brief moment together, she knew this woman would never live another moment of her life without injury, even after the lacerations on her body are healed.

She talked about her mate and Orin thought she caught a hint of hurt in the woman’s voice. Was something wrong? The two had escaped AniWaya against impossible odds… Had something happened to Saxif? Had she been hurt and Orin didn’t know? She started to regret asking after the other tribe woman, but before she could think of some way to make it better, something to say to take away some of the pain she knew Shiloh felt, the woman said it… ‘…from a rape that happened two months ago…’ and she bristled. Every muscle in Orin’s body went rigid the moment she heard the word, her eyes glazing over as every last ounce of blood in her body ran cold. She felt her stomach lurch, and for a moment she thought she would vomit. She glanced around desperately - turning her head away from Shiloh in case she threw up - and labored to gulp down air.

Shiloh was worried about looking crazy… what about Orin?! Together they were a sight. Orin pinched her eyes shut, working to numb the emotion that swelled like a tidal wave… and just then she felt something… arms around her.

The warmth of the despairing woman enshrouded her as they embraced, and she opened her eyes to see the side of Shiloh’s face as she hugged her. Instinctively, Orin wrapped her arms around the broken woman and held her tight. She wasn’t all together herself, and certainly wasn’t the best choice for a crutch, but she would do her best. With Shiloh’s pain overwhelming her, Orin was helpless to her own, and it wasn’t long before she wept too. Tears matted her cheeks as she stood there, trying her best to hold Shiloh upright, and show her that she wasn’t alone.

Finally, after several minutes had passed, she dared to say in a raspy voice, “Come, we shouldn’t be out here like this.” And she moved - still holding Shiloh tight - towards the end of the alley. With the one woman leaning on the other they walked slowly, and when they entered Thornbury’s shopping square Orin glanced around, unsure where to go.

The woman wanted a bath – she deserved a bath, but Orin didn’t know where to find one. Of course she couldn’t bathe in one of the pools in the forest, her wounds wouldn’t allow that. They needed someplace with a tub but Orin didn’t know of one. Still, they were out here, exposed to the prying eye of the world. She wanted to get Shiloh inside. “This way,” she said, and directed Shiloh to one end of the U-shaped district. They soon reached a wooden structure built on top of a stone foundation and Orin helped Shiloh up a handful of steps. She hesitated at the doorway though and a tremble racked her. She glanced at Shiloh out of the corner of her vision, hoping the woman didn’t notice. Could she go in? Orin bit her lip but looking at Shiloh gave her the strength to unlatch the door and take the woman inside.

The room they entered was dark and chillingly silent. It was clear that no one had been here for months, for the aisles of bookshelves were once again soiled with dust and cobwebs. The air was stale, but mostly the bookstore was unchanged. Orin offered Shiloh an old chair and then peered around with wide eyes.

“It’s like… it’s like nothing ever happened here…” she whispered to herself. It took a moment for her to remember Shiloh was there too. She shook her head, trying to ignore the thick knot that was forming in her stomach… trying to disregard the temperate but quickening tremble of her limbs.

“Has something… happened… to your mate?” she inquired, turning to face Shiloh. Why did the mention of her mate make the tribeswoman cry for so long? Her face was twisted with worry. She wanted to ask her more, to press her further about the things she said in the alley, but she didn’t know where to begin.

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