But the pyre only stood, waiting patiently for me to accept her help with me waiting for her to leave so I could carry on. And when at last I realized I would die of hunger and she would Sleep of thirst if we both stood staring at one another wordlessly, I began to undress myself.

She attempted to assist me, and I scooted out of her reach. Then, I stepped into the dress she’d chosen. It would have fit well enough, if it weren’t impossible to fasten. There were bits and bobs, hooks and latches, lacings and trimmings and all sorts of needless hassles, all of which I had no idea how to navigate.

<<This one is stubborn>>. A little smirk played on the pyre’s lips as she watched me struggle, snapping my arm into the place where legs should go and almost ripping the multitudinous layers of slips and petticoats and ruffles of the skirts.

Finally, when I had exhausted myself and my efforts were proven useless, I dropped my strained arms to my sides. I would either go to the breakfast for which I could not be late in the dress I traveled in or I would go naked.

But the pyre approached and held out her hands, a full smile taking its place on her lovely face. And she was lovely indeed. A gray that was almost brown, for her complexion and thick waves of dark gray hair pulled back from an almond-shaped face. Her eyes were a velvet black set in white.

She tiptoed to the wardrobe and pulled out a corset. I reeled, visibly offended by the sight of the thing. I would not wear it.

With a sigh, she set it down. Then she aided me in lacing and snapping and clipping and tugging me into the pale green dress. She smoothed the silk overskirt and then lifted the hem, peeking at the boots I had never bothered to remove when I crawled into bed the night before.

They were covered in mud from the trip to the river, where we laid Vincent to rest. It was the most precious mud in the all the world, for it was the last thing I possessed that he and I had both touched.

She took a look at me. <<What a delightfully strange version of a human>>.

I grinned, and she balked.

<<Did you just interpret my meaning>>?

I bowed my head, honored to be privy to such things as the inner intentions of the beings of light we called pyres.

<<Who did such a thing to you>>?

It mattered not. And she would not understand even if I could explain. For I did not understand myself.

<<You cannot be late>>, she meant. <<And you cannot go with your hair in this state>>.

Episode 48: Edible Anxiety And Five New Faces