"What are you doing? That child is a flaw, an aberration " The man's voice hounds her as she stumbles down the pathway, bits of blood and dirt and tears flowing after her. She's never been here and she doesn't know what she was expecting, going to a new area when she was in such a dire situation, but anything has to be better than what awaited her back at home.
Her long shawl catches on a thicket by the way and she stumbles, gasping as the bundle in her hand lurches forward. she presses it closer to her chest, stifling her fear and fright and hurt in her hand pressure, so much that she fears the baby in her arms might just snap. For a moment, she looks at this creature in her hand, wondering for a split second whether her father and everyone else are right in their observations.
Right away, she rebukes herself, pressing her lips to the baby's forehead. Voices filter through the thin barrier between her and the main road and she mumbles, "Just a little more" feeling hope and optimism mixed in with the dread in her system, her already high pulse increasing to an almost impossible rhythm.
There's a sudden buzz in her head and she stops to catch her breath. The voices behind her have faded out and the ones in front of her sound way clearer. Her baby stares unblinking at her as she runs a shaky right hand over its face, this poor little thing that has the anger and hatred of a whole clan after it right after it landed in the world. This baby, that, with all the blood and grime it's covered with, hasn't made a sound of pain or fright.
After a few minutes, she starts again, clutching her shawl closer over her face and her gown closer to her body. It's a little shocking to her senses, even though there aren't a lot of people around. The buzz of a minor train station is a distinct difference from the forest and animals that have been her companion for most of her journey. She attracts a few looks that she ignores as she walks into the ticket shop.
A man walks into the premises and she follows his movements, mimicking him as she buys a ticket. "Where to, ma'am?" the teenager in the ticket window asks, an eyebrow raised and she raises a shaky hand to one random destination. "That'll be two hundred fifty", the red-haired teenager says expectantly. Iz reaches under her baby's shawl and pulls out a man's wallet, out of which she pays for the ticket. The teenager nods and issues the ticket, along with a "Are you okay, ma'am?" Iz nods, trying to put on what she hopes is a reassuring smile.
The ticket boy nods hesitantly and hands her the ticket, to which she mutters her thanks and turns around to wait for the train. She can feel her strength fading and she holds on tighter to her baby, as if to draw strength. Maybe if Miles, as she wrote on a paper and dropped in his shawl, had known that his mother needed more strength, he would have helped her out. However, her darling baby was just a baby when Iz, the princess keeled over and took her last breath on a public train on its way to Tennessee, unceremoniously, her baby in the seat beside her.