The Belt, Mug, and Pouch

 An apology about the last story. 

As I wrote these I had not learned a few slightly important historical facts that would have influenced Anne's life. Therefore, if there are any odd changes throughout these stories, it's because this character is a work in progress than these stories are simply because I wanted to put them somewhere. 

Reading over them, it's not my best work, but I am dedicated to posting them and will try to do last minute edits to make these stories slightly more cohesive and comprehensible.

The Belt, Mug, and Small Pouch

The sound of voices below made Anne hurry in donning her disguise. The boy's clothing felt odd next to her skin, she could breathe much more easily than in a bodice and the slops were half the weight of one skirt. Even odder was the feeling of her shorter hair. Anne couldn't remember a time when her hair was so short that it only brushed her shoulders. It was tucked up under a muffin cap that was pulled down low on her forehead.

Anne was thankful for the small pressure her belt created. The small leather pouch hanging from her belt held all money she was going to bring. Anne wished she had a better pouch, but this would have to do. There was less than a minute before her mother's new visitor climbed the stairs. It wouldn't do to find a "boy" in her mother's room.

 To spend one night on the street and then go down to the docks as soon as daylight broke was Anne's plan. Her hand found her mug and reassured herself of its heft and weight. It would make a suitable weapon until she could find another one.

“Frobisher, Hawkyns, Drake, Wynter.” Anne muttered to herself. The sailors would know of those men even if she had no idea who they were. One of them had to be her father.

Look later tonight for the story of how Anne got her doublet!