For 273 years my appearance never altered unless I did it deliberately to look older...

(Small Fry Chapter 3)

 

20^th December 2363

The pregnancy was life altering because everything around me, let alone inside me, changed.  

It changed the tribe’s previous views of me, as it changed my husband’s.  Not only was Declan watching closely but so too were the pack.  Everyone seemed fascinated, as they observed my shape shift, with some closer than others.

I had left behind a vision, a beautiful but barren creature whom people had put on a kind of pedestal; somewhat like a painting on the wall.  Like the two-dimensional art, I had always looked the same.  But now, everyone instantly noticed my changes, because they made me more life-like.

For 273 years my appearance never altered, unless I did it deliberately to look older with my changing academic identities.  And of course, this was excluding the change I went through, when I expanded to hunt on a full moon.  Otherwise, my breasts, abdomen, hips or bottom, always looked the same.  I kept this form for nearly three centuries, which was a broad-shouldered, athletic figure thanks to my Lokoti Werewolf physique. 

On this note, my appetite never differed, except for larger meals during the bitterly cold Alaskan winter.  However, after the first week of pregnancy, my husband instantly noticed the change in my eating.  I started to steal an extra piece of garlic bread, or a second bread roll with dinner, or even an extra piece of toast with breakfast.  My meals were increasing and after the first three weeks, I started to snack more. 

Declan would come into kitchen with an attack of the munchies and to his surprise, he would find me there.  I didn’t use to snack, instead I was quite happy with three meals a day.  But my cravings were starting up, like dipping celery sticks into a jar of peanut butter.

“You want a sandwich?  I can make you a sandwich.”  He offered, as he looked on pleasantly surprised.

I shook my head, “I don’t want a sandwich, I want celery sticks with peanut butter.” 

The next afternoon, he found me doing something similar but with carrot sticks and cream cheese. 

After a couple of days of this, Declan walked out of the kitchen carrying two plates.  On one were his sandwiches and on the other, were neatly cut up celery and carrot sticks.  He even put on the side, two small dipping bowls of peanut butter and cream cheese.

“Oh, Declan!”  My face lit up.

“Food is my department, remember?”  He kissed the top of my head.  “I can’t have your cravings putting me out of business.”

As was typical for pregnant women to crave odd things, I started to dip my celery sticks into Nutella as well as peanut butter.  Declan openly stared as I munched away.

“You’re not gonna start eating sardines and ice cream together, are you?”  He shook his head in disbelief.

“Shut up.”  I giggled.

Also, I noticed that he began to slowly build up the size of my meals.  If one night I craved more mashed potato, the following night I saw my serving had doubled or even tripled.  Then he watched closely as I polished off everything on my plate. 

 

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