Despite agreeing to change clothes, my hands lingered on my belt as I worked up the courage to go through with it. If I hesitated any longer my trepidation would become impossible to hide. Even that didn’t succeed in motivating me. My fear was too great. Nothing was worse than undressing in front of Meg. I had been so… casual about it just moments ago. But now that I actually had to follow through…

It’ll be fine. Meg really hasn’t treated me special so far.

Even that didn’t manage to reassure me. Despite sometimes addressing me with child, Meg had spoken to me as an equal. As an adult. Yes, even after foolishly blurting out my real age. I wasn’t at all certain if that was going to hold when she saw me naked and realized how much like a kid I really looked.

And those fears were only about the immediate risk, about dealing with Meg’s reaction when I undressed. The real horror would come when I went out in the clothes she’d prepared for me. There was a lot of padding in my current outfit, and what she’d offered me was plain linen. There would be no hiding my childlike body in those clothes.

Can I really go out and face people in something like that?

It did not help that Meg kept on hovering with that stupid stick of hers. No amount of denying her could put her off the notion that she was going to tailor my clothes to fit. In any other situation, her behavior would have looked motherly, but right now her constant closeness was merely an endless reminder of my hunger.

Every time she twisted and turned around me, my eyes shot to an exposed neck, arm, … any place with a pulsing artery. It was a constant provocation. She was taunting me. She was. My teeth ached so bad. If I chewed my lip any harder I’d break the skin. The only thing keeping my hunger in check was the utter terror for how I was about to strip in front of her.

In the end, I just got it over with as quick as I could. There was a small startle from Meg as I took off my gloves. Even if she’d already seen my claws before, their sudden reappearance was still a surprise to her. She got a slightly larger shock when I stepped out of my still waterlogged boots and revealed equally horrifying talons on my feet.

Finally, there was utter stupefaction when she saw me fully naked.

“Not. A. Word!” I cautioned her.

A horrible blush colored my cheeks, despite my best attempts to suppress it. Too tired, too strained, too hungry, too terrified to maintain proper control of my face. My embarrassed blushing almost made me shut down my heart to be rid of it.

Almost.

If I did, instead of the ever so slight rosy paleness blood circulation gave my skin, I’d be left with only paleness. I already looked deathly pale, bordering on anemic as it was. I wasn’t about to make it even worse. Especially now that I was naked, nothing covering that blank, pale skin. It clashed horribly with my untamable, hip-length black tresses and bushy eyebrows,

I tried to use my hands to cover the worst of how I looked, but that only served as a reminder that I had nothing worth covering, and only made me flush even pinker. At the same time, there was far too much that needed hiding. I was one gigantic, tiny, gangly, bean sprout of a little girl, all bone and sinew, little muscle, and no fat.

And then there was the wrongness. I looked perfectly human, and yet uncannily not. Limbs just that tiny bit out of proportion, muscles attached ever so slightly different, mouth a little too wide, jaw a bit too far forward, and a gaze a little too intense, it gave everyone who looked at me naked an unnerving feeling of wrongness, of inhumanity, without them ever being able to pinpoint where the problem laid.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

And even though I couldn’t see it, I just knew that my horrifying body would only serve to accentuate my sickeningly cute and puffy cheeks. When I’d left my dad a year ago he’d told me I had the physique of a ten-year-old. Now, maybe ten and a half. Eleven was going to be a stretch. I wanted to look eleven. But I had seen Shae, I had a perfect reference for eleven, I was a long way away from eleven.

‘m 24.

‘m not a kid. ‘m all grown up and 24, no matter how I look.

Getting myself to look even passably adult was a lot of work. No matter how hard I tried, there was always someone for whom all my hard work was not enough. I had to fight for everything, every scrap of dignity, every ounce of respect.

Yes, I’m old enough to be here.

Yes, I’m old enough to drink that.

Yes, I’m old enough to hold that blade.

Old enough to work. Old enough to fight. Old enough to kick your ass.

I was old enough for everything. I was never old enough. I could see it in their eyes, their judgemental looks everywhere I went. I was so damn tired of fighting this damned fight and yet I could not ever stop doing so for even one single second.

No, I do not need my parents, you ass!

I had never dressed so fast in my life. The small shirt Meg had given me came all the way to my knees. The legs of the trousers pooled around my feet. And every second I could see Meg.

Staring.

Judging.

I saw her glancing back to the doorway her family had disappeared to. It was where they kept their clothes, I was sure of it. I could imagine all of what she was thinking, how she was mentally going through all she had for her maybe eight year old daughter, and if there was anything she could use for me.

“Don’t even think about it,” I admonished her before she could voice anything of the sort.

I commandeered some rope and pieces of cloth from her, and some very clever folding and tucking tricks later I no longer looked like a toddler trying on mommy’s clothes. I looked passable. Remotely passable. I wiped the smug grin of satisfaction off my face before it could fully form.

Finally, I picked up the new pair of shoes Meg had selected for me. They were, to put it nicely, utter shit. This town did not even have a cobbler, so that was to be expected, I guess. At least they were dry. That was much more than could be said about my old pair. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to get those dry again.

Meg gave me a really funny look when I first transferred the leather strips, and then the wedges, from my old shoes to the new ones. She had the decency not to ask, so I didn’t answer. The former was to make shoes last just that tiny bit longer in the face of the nearly two inches worth of claws on my toes. The latter…

Every inch of height counts, even if I have to cheat for it!

In the end, I think that Meg was at least a little bit impressed at my ability to turn ill-fitting clothes and a ten-year-old frame into something that looked decidedly more… maybe not adult, but at least presentable. That’s what I chose to interpret her small nod of approval for anyway.

My hair was definitely a problem now that I had on clean clothes, so I decided to take another stab at it. I asked Meg for a mirror. What I got was… terrible… but leagues better than my sword. Raking my claws through the tangled, sticky mess that my hair had become, meant pulling out the occasional strand of hair.

I supposed I could have been more careful, but I wanted to get this over with. Hair regrows and the pain of pulling it out was nothing compared to the hunger. Me pulling hair out by the handful distressed Meg greatly though. When she saw that, she could no longer restrain herself. She needed to help out. I had to forcibly bat her away several times. I absolutely did not want her figuring out that the sticky, goopy, ropy stuff tangled in my hair were parts of my brains that had leaked out.

After a third forceful refusal of her help, Meg offered me water and soap to help clean out my hair. It was a much more agreeable offer than her helping directly. I still declined, hastily braided my hair into shape. I really was leaving now. Not a second more of this stalling.

When I was ready Gery and the two kids came to see me off. The little mushroom-gremlin girl gave me a parting “Do you eat babies?”

“Yes, but only—” I quipped, hastily snapping my mouth shut the second I realized what was coming out of it.

I did not just try to joke about eating children.

Didn’t.

Aaaah… this town is getting to me. I need to leave.

Mmmm… eating… food.

Hunger!

I groaned and walked out the door without looking back. I had nearly managed a couple of minutes without thinking of drinking someone dry, and the little shit had ruined it. I wanted to bury my head in my shoulders. I wanted to walk and keep on walking. Unfortunately, Fern was barely five paces out from the door and I needed to dump my old clothes on her back.