My assumptions grew with every day.

Each morning I found myself diving for the bushes, vomiting more violently than ever. If that was not enough, the corrosive fluid in my throat made eating a chore. I forced down little bites of food before retreating to my house. I did not want to show any signs of struggle. But my body was imploding with the burden it bore. The burden which could not be lifted.

If this really was what I thought it to be...I was in trouble. Deep trouble. I knew what kind of trap I'd fallen into now. I could not keep living in the dark like this. But was there a way out? Was there someone who could help?

My first thought was Haytham. But objections reared like angry horses in my head. He could not help me. He was busy; I had no intention of troubling him. I was hardly in a condition to hunt or visit. I would tell him one day, when I was ready.

My second thought was Mother. But, heavens, I would be punished. How severely was unpredictable. I dared not risk it. Besides, it was not right for the Clan Mother to deal with her daughter's problems.

Koshisigre? No. Although he'd listen, he had no knowledge of my condition. He could sense that I was upset, but he had already interpreted it wrong. He'd sent for Haytham, thinking that he would end this depression for good. He was wrong.

Nitika?

Ah, yes. Nitika. Not only would she listen, keep the secret and console me: she already knew. She had first-hand experience of what I was feeling. She would tell me exactly what was happening. But most importantly, she would never judge me for being with Haytham.

I was almost certain that my guesses were true. But I needed to know for sure.

Before sundown one night, the Clan sat together to eat by the fire. There was plenty of cooked food laid out; people sat on the ground and chatted merrily. I picked away at my portion of hare; only tiny pieces ended up in my stomach. Nitika (sat next to me by the fire pit) had spotted this. She was most displeased.

"Now, child," she cooed, "you must eat some more. Look at you. You have become skin and bones."

I swallowed hard, staring at my thinned arms. "I will, Nitika. Fret not. But...can I...talk to you after this meal?"

"Of course!" she replied. "You can talk to me now if you wish."

"No –" I held out a hand to stop her. I glanced up at the circle of chattering people. The only person eyeing us was Koshisigre. "In private. I need to ask you...something of a sensitive nature."

Nitika cocked an eyebrow. "All right," she said, startled. "Come to my house after you have finished."

And so I spilled the story to her. Of the night at the river, the continuous symptoms and terror to tell a soul. Her face changed a lot as she listened, from mildly surprised to absolutely aghast. But once I'd finished in a hushed tone, I shivered. Why was talking about it so difficult? I was no overemotional character. Either way, one empty tear escaped my expressionless face.

"Are you sure?" Nitika asked.

"I am almost certain. I need you to tell me."

"Why not turn to your own mother?"

"Because she will have me punished. I did not want to ask you this, Nitika. But I have to know the truth."

She nodded, frowning in thought. "Let me feel. Lie down a moment, KaniehtĂ­:io."

I did as she asked. I stared at the fire flickering on the roof. My shadow flashed in and out of focus: a young woman, lying defeated on the cold hard ground. A metaphor of what I had become. What was still to come.

I need to be sure.

Nitika's hands passed over a sensitive point on my abdomen. A small gasp was released from my throat, quickly stifled.

What else could these signs be? I did not need to ask Nitika at all.
Yes, Ziio. You did. You need some guidance.
But why risk being overheard?
Because if Nitika knows, you will feel safe.

"I cannot feel a child quickening. How long ago was this?"

I sat up slowly. "I-in midsummer. The day the cougar attacked me."

"Well, that is not enough that I can notice. Yet I am sure there is a child inside you."

I felt my throat tighten.

"Fear not," she added, seeing my distressed face. "It will be a long time before the villagers notice."

"But...what about when they do?" I asked, my voice rising hysterically. "They will think that I have betrayed them. They will know that I bear the bastard child of an Englishman. What should I say to Mother?"

"Your mother will understand," Nitika soothed, rubbing my tense back. "If she has you punished, I will reason with her. Your...lover is no enemy to us. We can tell the villagers that when the time comes. But for now, we wait."

I relaxed. She was unable to console me completely, but there was a lot of truth in her words. She and Mother were friends. Nitika could easily bargain with her to release me from reprimand. I had nothing to fear. Yet.

Well I was wrong.

When I ambled sleepily to the village entrance the next morning, a lively (yet dark) quietness hovered over the people like a murky mist. Groups of two or three huddled together on every corner, muttering intensely among themselves.

But each time I passed a group, the conversation would immediately stop. Each eye stared shamelessly at me. Never quite into my own eye: always slightly below. Their gaze followed me like a shadow until I was out of view. I shuddered.

I am imagining it, I told myself. But as I turned a corner, the exact same thing happened with a group of three teenage boys. How much more of this could I take? Why were they all staring, in any case?

One more corner, I thought. I should find some privacy at the entrance.

But there was a crowd larger than I'd ever seen by the trees. The people swarmed like a hive of buzzing wasps. Each stare a stinging blow. The mutters lowered when I approached, but did not stop.

Keep your head low.

I stared at the ground with forced concentration. If only I could block them all out. This is torture. But not until I heard a voice utter:

"She does not look pregnant."

I froze in horror. Was she talking about me? How? How could she have found out?

Don't...look...up... I thought. Do not... make it...look...obvious.

"We do not know how long she is due, though," a man replied.

I felt my blood begin to boil. My fists clenched like my pounding heart. Someone must have been listening outside Nitika's hut. How could they spread the word? How?

"Perhaps she was raped."

I quickened my pace, legs shaking.
"By whom?"

"A redcoat?"

Ignore them.
But my lip was positively trembling.

"A Templar?"

At that, a tear escaped my cheek. Templar. No. Too many thoughts. Too many negative thoughts. Too much cruel attention. Too much to take. Too much.

I tore through the bushes and ran.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

That was my heart as I hurtled through the woods. Trees swayed in the breeze; the sound was sibilant like whispers. The rustling of the trees and the staccato clicks of birds became more personified. The forest was spreading rumours about me, just like the villagers.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

My throat was dry; my eyes moist; my chest heaved like a toiling slave. I didn't care where I was going. All I knew was that I needed to run. The further from the village, the better.

Keep going. Keep going. They cannot touch you here.

Angry blisters throbbed on my feet; bile and blood poisoned my mouth.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The mutters of the forest rose to my ears, this time more defined than ever. Three words echoed in my head, pushing me down, down...

Shame. On. You. Shame. On. You.

My head joined in with the nature around me. Why was I so scared? Why was I so weak? Was this something to do with pregnancy?

Pregnancy.
I am...
I am...
I am pregnant.
A child forms inside me.
A child will be born unto me.
I have made a mistake.
A mistake I will never rectify.

Overlapping these dreadful thought streams came the clear, vicious words:

Shame. On. You. Shame. On. You. Shame. On. You.

What was I running for? All I wanted was to get away from the village for a while. I was making a scene of this. Why not slow down? My feet were throbbing, anyway. I stopped my sprint and caught my breath.

The voices faded at once. The swishes, clicks and distant calls normalised. This was the forest I was used to.

I supposed I could stay here for a while, until the drama died down.

DADADAHHHH!

Yes indeed! Ziio is pregnant and it's no secret!

I know she was acting weirdly towards the end, but you would be too, if you were in her position. She can't really hear 'voices' in the forest, by the way. It's only a metaphor of how it feels like the world's closing in on her (including the subtle things like the forest). Does that make sense? Lol, probably not but whatever.

I'm on holiday next week so updates may take one week or more. Just so you're aware.

Thanks for reading guys :)