She laid down, curling up, feeling her insides starting to churn, an horribly painful sensation that swam in her abdomen, going lower to her legs, slowly, painfully, until it hurt too much even to lay down while she huddled herself.

She took a slow breath, looking tiredly and angrily into space, fixing her sight nowhere in particular. She just stared in the void, breathing sometimes slowly, sometimes raggedly, feeling her lower stomach with her hands and twitching in pain when she pressed her fingers too much into her skin.

"What is that?" Ferris said to her, after a long silence.

"It's my monthly curse, all women monthly curse actually."

She spitted almost in a tone of anger. She felt so terrible, and the question unsettled her even more than it should have been. The pain was just that bad, this evening.

"What do you mean? What's that?" Ferris repeated, staring at her doubtfully, slightly tilting her head, with a rare look of confusion.

"Bleeding, sweetie."

Ferris kept staring at her, looking at all her body in search. She scanned her for a few seconds, gazing at all the exposed parts of her body.

"But… I don't see any blood. You're not hurt. You weren't hurt before" 

She kept giving her that perplexed stare, so unusual on her face, that made her look more childish than usual. Like she didn’t understand what she was implying.

That weird reaction made her realize there was something… wrong. Ferris was old enough, she should have got the hints, after all that was said, even if she couldn’t feel the same pain, she should have understood. But she didn’t. She just kept staring, with a perplexed look, still searching for that blood she was talking about.

"It's.... Wait. You don't?" She looked at the small woman in disbelief, wide eyes while bearing the pain, realizing the surprising truth. 

"You don't? You don't bleed?!"

Ferris made an impatient noise, like she was getting fed up with all that incomprehensible talk.

"I'm not hurt, of course I'm not bleeding. Why should I bleed? This is making no sense. If you're hurt, show me, there is no healer here but I can bandage a cut. Trust me."

Louisa kept staring at her, almost starting to laugh in pain and disbelief.

"You don't bleed! That's... A thing? Is that possible? I wish I didn't too... Ah" She clutched her abdomen in pain, shutting her eyes and clenching her teeth. She was silent for a few seconds, then she took a deep breath and opened her cherry, paler than usual, lips again.

"Listen to me, Ferris. Women bleed, every month, like a natural thing.

It's our curse, the price we have to pay for being able to conceive. Birth is something that's born from our life of suffering, everything so men can enjoy easily their offsprings, doing their stuff in life, while we carry in our womb all the pain that bearing a new life is. Some women suffer more than others, but we all do. I… do. Quite a lot actually.”

"...Oh" replied Ferris, after a long silence. 

"I know what you mean."

She laid down, sitting closer to her. She always moved in an elegant way, so unfit to her actual temperament. She wasn't as soft, as pliant as she moved. Louisa knew, she was far stronger than what her slim body showed to everyone.

She looked at her, serious, and kept elaborating her reply.

"My... Fa... That.. man. That man always said it, my mother pain was all my fault. Conceiving a child takes everything from a weak woman, until she can only last while she makes her duty and gives an heir. He said that's what a woman does for a man, her utmost obligation, and that she should be happy to feel it, it's for the family line. It’s a proud thing to do."

She squirmed a little, uncomfortable, looking like what she said concerned her.

"But... That man was stupid. Horatio didn't say that I have to do that. He said that man was just a bad... Father.” 

She stopped, just for a second, then firmly added: “He's not my father."

She stopped talking, looking perplexed, squinting her eyes and pouting her mouth a little, as if she was thinking hard about how to explain what she meant. 

"Actually... I don't know if he is. My... Father. Everyone said he is, but they also said he isn't. But look! I don't care, who he is. He's just some rich man that discarded me."

She stopped to talk, sitting straighter and looking at her with her wide, a little droopy, clear eyes, filled with resolution.

"He's just a man. I don't care about men. I don't want to have anything to do with any of them. 

I don't know what's wrong with me, everyone always said I'm wrong, but when father Horatio picked me he said I'm fine like this. I'm not a woman, I'm me, so I'm gonna do what I want, not what a... noble woman does."

She raised an eyebrow. "... Whatever a noble woman does. Probably something very boring anyway".

Louisa started to laugh softly, with her head low, hiding her budding smile.

"Well Ferris, you're right. This... Horatio, is right. You're not a woman, you're Ferris. And you do Ferris things, right? That's how it should be."

She stretched a hand towards Ferris legs, with her palm upwards.

"Now... Help me getting up, if you please? I need some herbs. For the pain." She explained.

Ferris grabbed her from the elbows and lifted her up, almost as if she didn't weight anything. Even if she was much smaller than her. She pulled with too much force, and Louisa head bumped softly into her embrace. Louisa gasped. Ferris was small and sturdier than she expected, but still carried some softness in her. That sensation filled her with a strange conviction, that is: her embrace, even if it was just an accident… fit. 

"And... Eh…Uh... Ferris, we need to talk about... Womenly things."

She hummed with her throat a little. 

"Ahem. I'm not hurt. I'm just bleeding. No, NO I'm not showing you where! Stop feeling me really, it's not a wound. I'm going to explain, just get me to those herbs and listen to me. 

So, when women reach a certain age..."

Louisa kept taking, explaining Ferris a part of every woman life that she apparently never experienced. 

Ferris often looked very perplexed, asking her questions about it, and feeling all the affair very weird, as she kept stating with much emphasis. How could one say she was wrong? 

In the end, after talking quite a lot, Louisa managed to quench her pain with a potion, and finally Ferris stated firmly that she didn't need that "womanly" thing at all. 

Louisa thought, a smart conclusion, she didn't want either, but here she was. She smiled happily at her, thinking that it wasn’t every day she could find someone that, even if so different, could connect with her so well, trying so eagerly to understand.

She didn’t know how old Ferris was, nor what was her full past, and she didn’t want to look. She decided to just wait, until this small, budding flower decided to tell her herself. That felt much more right than just spying into her past like she was used to do. She reserved that respect from her, even if she didn’t know why she thought that.

It just felt wrong to try to open that flower by force… it didn’t look like she would have liked that, and she felt in her bones she maybe shouldn’t do it for other reasons too. She trusted her intuition, it was one of her perks being what she was.

Ferris in the meantime gave her some space and went to sit furthest she could, as she usually did, but this time without being too far off in case she nedeed to lend a helping hand. That was the most caring thing she did until now, and Louisa felt something sweet on her stomach. She brushed off the feeling as nothing much, didn’t want to delve deeper in that sickening thing, that would for sure not be reciprocated. That’s not how things went in that time and part of the world, she knew. 

That wasn’t the wolf tribe where she could be herself, while no one judged. Ferris was from another world, made of humans and conventions and taboos. One where a wrong move or word could make you die for it.

So, yes, she didn’t even try to understand what that was. Ferris being there was enough for her, she didn’t need anything more.

The night fell, and she eventually fell asleep in her bed made of thick carpets.

The fire kept creaking quietly, the last embers still sparking in the darkness.

A pair of clear, wide and droopy eyes shifted in the dark, reflecting the dying fire sparks, watching intently that tall and strange woman that knew so many things and behaved like none of the proper women she ever met. She dressed in a strange way, she talked in a strange way, she showed a unnerving amount of skin, and her gaze was… deep, unsettling, like she knew things others didn’t. But she was gentle with her, smelled of herbs and was… soft when she held and touched her. Was that what a proper woman should feel? Soft and weak? She didn’t know for sure and, after some thought, she didn’t care, she decided. She left her past and its stupid requirments a long ago.

But what didn’t sit well with her was how… easy it was to have touched her, held her. It didn’t make her feel bad or uncomfortable at all. Strange, she thought. Very strange, the woman and the feeling she gave.

She didn’t know if she liked it or felt unsettled by it, maybe both, but she knew she found an interesting human, finally. Someone who didn’t feel her strange for her coldness or her strenght, who didn’t laugh at her ignorance in common knowledge, which she knew she was lacking, and who showed some interest in her opinions too. What a weird woman… she should watch her better, to check she wasn’t dangerous. Yes, she definitely should check that this weird, unsettling skilled woman wasn’t harbouring some evil intentions, to trick her or, even worst, to harm Horatio. 

In the darkness, the last ember died, flashing the last spark in those weidly colored pupils, then darkness descended for good, and the only thing that could be seen was a slit of moonlight on the tent flap. 

Everything was quiet for the rest of the night, while everyone peacefully slept and dreamed.