Chuztox

Mòrag awoke the next morning, after having the same dream she had been having every night and barely remembering it, immediately aware of two things: That she was alone in the bed and that her pull-up was wet. She disliked both realizations but her morning fog started to fade as she remembered that she was sleeping in what had once been the guest bed and now was just (hopefully) temporarily her bed. Remembering that she was alone by request and not through the circumstance of Brighid merely waking up before her was sobering but it was worse to once again be waking up in a swollen pull-up. No amount of limiting fluids seemed to be effective in limiting the fluid she released in her sleep, waking up to an equally soiled pull-up every morning either way. She sighed around her thumb, before realizing that it had been a sigh both of weariness and also of relief, her pull-up swelling a slight bit more. Her face reddened as she became aware of her mistake, feeling some liquid trickle across