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Don't ask how Natalie ended up on the bathroom floor. She wasn't even entirely sure herself. Something about an identity complex and an inopportunely timed (if more than welcome) transformation back to normal, probably. The fact remained that that was where she woke up, with dried blood over her top lip and Moxy licking her face.
She woke up. Her. For the first time in over a month. She was remarkably cool about it. Picked herself up off the floor, washed her face, went to get her phone to send a text to a few people she knew would have worried. Or had specifically avoided her –– no, not her. Nathan. But his memories were still raw in her head.
All the text said was, Natalie's back.
And afterwards, when she was setting food out for Moxy and she realized that her hand was shaking, she had to wonder if she shouldn't have pretended to be gone a little longer.
[ooc: NFB, but open! If you think you got a text, you got one!]
She woke up. Her. For the first time in over a month. She was remarkably cool about it. Picked herself up off the floor, washed her face, went to get her phone to send a text to a few people she knew would have worried. Or had specifically avoided her –– no, not her. Nathan. But his memories were still raw in her head.
All the text said was, Natalie's back.
And afterwards, when she was setting food out for Moxy and she realized that her hand was shaking, she had to wonder if she shouldn't have pretended to be gone a little longer.
[ooc: NFB, but open! If you think you got a text, you got one!]
