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Cindy's lesbian magic-filled dreams give her issues at work.
She held her tattered dress against her chest and stares up at Anna with wide eyes. Her other hand was held up in front of her in a gesture one might use when approaching an animal that one wasn't sure of.
"Thank you," the woman said in a small voice. Anna didn't reply at first, still trying to make sense of what had just happened. She looked down at the man again, feeling bile rise in her throat before looking away. The woman seemed to understand Anna was not in the habit of stabbing would-be rapists in the street. "You saved me from him. He deserved what he got. Thank you."
Anna shook her head, finding the lump in her throat hard to speak around. She looked down, noticing for the first time that her dress was splashed with blood and her entire arm was soaked in it.
"Come with me," the woman spoke again, "I live just over there. The bastard caught me coming back from a birth. I'll fix you up so you don't go trailing this all over town."
Anna allowed herself to be steered towards the woman's home by her un-bloodied arm. She still felt numb and unresponsive; allowing this woman to take charge for a minute would have been a relief if she could feel anything at the moment. Before she knew it the woman was sitting her down at a table and bringing a large bucket of water and a basin over. She moved with the studied movement of a woman accustomed to blood, though Anna was sure there was a difference between a woman in labor and one who had just stabbed a man in the street. The woman spoke in a soothing tone; her name was Mirabelle, a local midwife. Her good for nothing husband had given up waiting for the birth to finish and headed to a pub instead of staying to accompany his wife home.
Anna let the woman's voice flow over her, feeling bits of warmth seep back into her rigid body. The woman began undoing the bodice of her dress, which was completely soaked. Anna's hands flew to stop her.
"Lovely, you can't expect to wear this again. I'll get you a change of clothes. We need to get you cleaned and changed."
Anna nodded dumbly at Mirabelle, allowing her to remove her cloak and dress. Her undergarments had been miraculously spared the copious amounts of blood from her thicker outer layers. Mirabelle gently washed Anna's skin until the basin was bright red. Once she was satisfied, Mirabelle bustled over to the far side of the room to look for clothing that might fit her.
"I think I only have some men's clothes from a boarder a while back. If you stay overnight I have some wash that might be dry by morning."
Anna shook her head. "Pants are fine," she rasped, realizing her throat was paper dry. Mirabelle went to get her some mead she had stored away from where her husband could find it and Anna worked her way into a pair of leather breeches that she could tuck into her boots and a coarse men's shirt. It dipped low in the front to where her breast band started with a tie to keep the neck together. She kept her father's belt with his daggers. She placed the knife she had just used back with the others after wiping it clean with the wet cloth. Mirabelle had also supplied a hooded cloak. As long as Anna kept her hood up and changed her gait she could probably pass as a boy.
Mirabelle pushed a cup in front of Anna. "Drink up, it'll help the shakes." Anna held out a trembling hand and took the cup. Mirabelle gave her an apprising look. "Seems you aren't just a spirit of vengeance coming to those of us in distress. You look like I did after my first breech birth."
Anna could only nod, feeling numb again. She drank the sour liquid quickly, making her limbs tingle with the feel of alcohol. She looked up at Mirabelle's face, straight into the woman's searching gaze. Suddenly the room felt stifling and small. Anna lurched from her seat and backed her way towards the door.
"I have to go," she stammered.