But now the figure in the mirror hardly looked human. She had not wanted to see her expression she had been afraid that she might frighten herself.
Odd how seldom she’d done that, not since before the other landing. When she put the construction on her body, she realized it needed a bit more here - another length of beads - and something else there to balance the weight and keep it from slipping off her shoulders. She made and painted more beads, added the slimerod cores she had dried, the seed pods of this plant, tufts of long hair from cows’ tails caught in brush… she wasn’t sure what she was making, only that she liked the patterns of chunky things and thin ones, color and texture and line. “She retrieved the beads she had dropped from under the sewing tables, and strung them again.
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