No pads. No tampons. Just free-bleeding how mother nature intended.

The wilderness was brutal enough already, but throwing womanhood on top of that doubled your hardships. It wasn't like you could pop an ibuprofen or plug in a heating pad. Forced to face your period without modern aids, you were reduced to nothing more than bedrest. The pain would subside within a few days, but the cramping in your lower abdomen felt akin to that of a knife being drilled through your stomach repeatedly. The blistering cold outside of the cabin was not helping anything, rendering you even more miserable. The snow was relentless, slashing against the walls built to keep you warm.

Your only respite was Lottie, a calm and reliable presence to distract you from the woes of womanhood. Cradled in her arms with your back against her chest, she rambled on about the wilderness and whatnot. Perhaps it was all nonsensical — but you found a comfort in her voice and words. With one hand buried in your hair, the other had slipped beneath your warm layers to splay across your stomach, gently kneading the flesh there to ease the pain.

Lottie wouldn't admit it out loud, but this side of you was her favorite: soft and pliable. Tender moments like this was what she longed for, having you close by as your souls intertwined. Lottie's lips brushed against your temple in a fragile kiss, and she broke away from her rambling for a short moment. “Are you warm enough?”