Great Father Winter had clearly gone back to sleep, paving the way for Mother Nature to reawaken and bless the land once more with her grace. Within a matter of days, the land transformed from the blissful icy wonderland that Anya was accustomed to into a vibrant landscape full of new growth and color as the weather shifted rapidly from bitter cold to sweltering heat.
It was as if the very earth had experienced a massive manic swing and decided that now was the time for a #newlooknewme moment.
To say Anya was perplexed by the rapid changes in temperature and the environment would be an understatement. Normally, she would have already retreated from the Kawani lowlands, where she spent the winter with her lake-loving mate, back to the more reasonably chilly mountaintops that she preferred. Anya was, through and through, a creature born and molded by ice and snow, completely melting at the slightest hint of heat like snow on a sunny day.
Yet, this year was different for a very special reason. As the ground was seeded with new life and growth, Anya too felt transformed, and her stomach swelled with the undeniable fact that she was to be a mother again.
Being pregnant was something that she had mixed feelings on. Mother Nature was having her mood swings, but they paled in comparison to the blue harpy’s rapid-fire temper tantrums.
On one hand, she was thrilled to become a mother again. It felt like a lifetime ago when she had her first chicks. She had barely grown into her full adult feathers before she suddenly found herself raising two beautiful girls with the most spirited and spunky personalities. But now, they were long since grown, with children of their own, whom she adored being a grandmother to. Anya had long since dismissed any thoughts of having more children, considering her body well past its prime and fertile years. Instead, she focused on savoring her time as a grandmother alongside her mate.
Life was funny that way though; it always laughed in your face when you finally got comfortable with the status quo.
On the other hand, she cursed the fact that she had ended up getting pregnant while being in these accursed lowlands. It was unbearably HOT HERE! The air felt thick and damp due to the increasing humidity, as the spring months ushered in a steady flow of rain showers. Even her partner’s preferred lake had expanded nearly to double its usual size, with additional rivers and streams branching off, creating a near-swamp environment around the area.
And the POLLEN! OH MY SPIRITS! She couldn’t escape the sweet scent of pollen wafting through the air. Unbeknownst to her, she was nearly allergic to every single flower, tree, and weed within a 50-mile radius as if the very spirits were conspiring against her. Her sinuses were in panic mode from the pollen assault. As a result, Anya was perpetually sneezing, looking like she had just emerged from a grueling nine-round boxing match, her eyes puffy and red, nose often running, and face swollen like a chipmunk. Her mate often struggled to hold back laughter as he watched the once proud harpy sitting awkwardly on the ground, her large pregnant belly protruding awkwardly, releasing a series of high-pitched sneezes that he described as “Like a mouse's dying squeaks.”
She was going to kill him. She hated this. She hated him right now. She hated how hot it was. She hated the pollen which made her feel bad. She hated that she couldn’t escape back to her snow-capped refuge on healer’s orders. Each day, moving comfortably became more difficult; all she could do was sit in the shade, panting to cool off and sneezing uncontrollably.
For Anya, one undeniable fact emerged: SHE. HATED. SPRING!
Mark her words, this would be the last spring she ever spent down in the lowlands smelling the flowers.
WC: 654
