Taking it in wasn't near as hard as letting it out, like a plugged spring with nowhere to escape. She took a long moment, clung tight, her eyes quivering. Up to this point she had figured she had everything laid out and planned, that she had figured out her purpose, and their future. It was a lot more glamorous than this, and the two she had known her life were not in this bleak path to cheer them on anymore, not in body at least. That's right... she thought, a light glimmer, dim but still there. There was at least, some level of solace in the darkness. With quivering lips she finally opens her mouth.
"They... aren't gone... just... not where they were, r-right? Just... n-not in body," she mutters, still hanging her head. "And... even if we are weak now, we can just get stronger, besides... it is we, right? Not just... you and me. Whole... not... separate."
Having taken the time to clean up and change out of her rags. She instead had invested some coin into having the furs weaved into a dress of her liking, along with a hood, her black hair dangling down the sides. It was fairly modest, not seamless, but not inelegant. It made her appear somewhat as a mystic, or gypsy, a humorous thought. It breathed, it flowed, it fit her form as it was now, and moreover, it did not reek.
"Thank you, dear dressmaker, a boon to your needle work," she says, pinching the sides of her dress and spinning around in her new garments, a wide grin on her face. It was literally her first time being outfitted, and containing herself was impossible.
"It was... the least I could do," she says, staring at the strange woman, watching as Bella joyfully prances out from her shop. "Strange."
It was the first time in her entire life that she had just wandered like this, everything was new, the smells, the sights, the people. The only thing that could make this better, in her mind was a family. She pauses, her eyes narrowing for a moment, the grin gradually fading. Looking around she saw the Dwarven people, all of one kind, but yet she had no such kinship with any other beings in this entire world. In fact, instead, she had only known their fear, even when regarded as a higher being. Forcing a smile, she slipped by to check on Kardarrek with the rooms, before slipping into the local tavern.
Looking at the somber faces of the patrons, the atmosphere somewhat different than before.
"What will ye 'ave tall 'un?" a one-eyed gray bearded dwarf asks her, clearly the owner of this tavern. Her eyes casting down to him, a brief moment of confusion before glancing around, catching a dwarf passed out onto one of the tables. She had no idea what liquor was or what it did, but soon she'd say something she'd perhaps soon regret.
"What he had," she says, gesturing to the collapsed dwarf. The tavern keeper leans over, propping himself up on the counter, taking a long look at him, then up at her, and then back at him again.
"...y'sure?" he asks, his eyes squinted.
"Yes."
"Really sure?"
"Very."
Silently he stares at her, then, pops off from the counter, shrugging his shoulders to prepare a glass.
Moments later...
"Then what 'appened?" the tavern keeper asks, resting his hand on his cheek as Bellatroix has seated herself on the table, clearly intoxicated.
"The monster was the... was the shoemaker all along, no one expected it, who would assume one so... m... mundane... un... unassuming... giving... had used his charity not to size up feet for the poor orphans, but... his victims, for you see, the twisted creature had acquired a taste for those small and smooth," she says, slurring her words somewhat as she takes another drink. "'twere like little trophies..."
"A bit... bit far fetch'd y'think?" one patron asks, waving a bottle. "No one knew?"
"Hardly, he was... pretty twisted, but... but cunning, taking in the unwanted, the... those who lost parents in war, disease." she says. "But... but, one night a strange girl came into his shop, shoeless, asking to be fitted, a girl with no parents, no guardians, not even a first or last name. She was... the perfect prey. Taking her out the back of his shop, into his house, claiming that he had his tools there... and in the the dim candle's light, he could do his work away from peeping eyes. When he was sure and safe, he reached out for the girl with the swiftness of a savage predator on the pounce... but... as he took the girl, covering her mouth... however, as he glanced down into the girl's eyes, as she did not struggle, or try to scream, and in her eyes was not fear... but emptiness. Around his throat something coiled itself around, he released her mouth, and she began to recite the names of each of his victims, the coil tightening with each. Until one final name, she muttered, the name of his final prey, her form shifting as the candle light went out... the name, Black Bella. And so ended the life of Killin' Cobbler."
"Pretty dreary tale, lass, the wee ones were still dead, even if there were no more after," one says.
"And the one t'stop em were no hero but a monster," another says. "What were its motivation?"
Bella sits in silence and hangs her head, somberly thinking on what to respond with.
"What is more precious when it is that what one cannot have..? The Black Bella had lived long, never having a family, no offspring, no bonds of kinship. Jealous but not hating, but lonesome. I suppose in that, the most blasphemous thing, is to bring harm to the fledgling life she could never bear."
There was a moment of silence across the tavern. The tavern keeper glancing down a moment, then raising a glass in toast.
"T'family n' friends," he says, each of the tavern dwellers also raising their glasses. Bella follows as well, and they all duzzle down from their mugs, Bella finally reaching her limit and falling over on her back.
"How many glasser were that?"
"More than should be possible, lad. More than should be possible."