Sun Mote Copse o quam sancta

The pair did beckon her, with body and voice, and she wagged her tail as she came closer. She dipped her head to her sister, and offered Ar-Khalba a smile. Her eyes flashed desire, but she knew now was not the time, for her sister was somehow in pain or need. She looked to her sister, eyes full of concern. "Hello Sister. I have been well, blessed by Molech to walk the lands. Less blessed than you, I see. Your litter is a great omen, a wonderful thing. Congratulations to the both of you. May the next generation love and adore The Many Armed God more than we, and be twice as blessed." She dipped her head for a moment to allow that prayer to go, before lifting her eyes again. Her smile was bright, her face alight. She was in contrast to her sister, who seemed so small and sad in comparison.

"What ails you, Eshamun? Do you not feel your babes within you? If they pain you, it will not be long before they are in the world and you can tend to them easier. Perhaps I could as the Priestess for some herbs for you? I have never known the blessing myself, but I am sure it must come with pain for all the joy that it will bring. Children of your own, of both you and Ar-Khalba, blessed by Molech, here to spread the learnings as they themselves grow. Please fret not, how might I help brighten your eyes and face, sister?" She, of course, did not know that she was effectively twisting the dagger in her sister's heart, talking about something that would never come to be.

She was, as of yet, unenlightened about the sacrifice Molech required and so the origin of her Sister's pain was not something she would have ever even thought of. Her words, however cruel they may have seemed, were said sincerely. She would do anything to help her sister if she could, to lift the sadness from her and make her happy. Eshamun had saved her, shown her the light of Molech. It made her terribly sad to see her troubled, there was nothing but love in her intentions.