The Sunspire i would love to get to know you and sit you down to talk about our little lives
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Ooc — Rosie
Astronomer
Master Ecologist
Master Midwife
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If lethargy had been the mother-to-be’s proclivity in the nascence of her pregnancy, then the amount of laziness she exhibited now was nothing short of astounding. Olive did nothing more than jockey between the cool depths of her whelping den and sun-drenched clearing that spread before its entryway, and it was not because she was truly exhausted from the process of creating life — no, quite simply, the idea of hauling her gravid frame ‘round the valleys and up the spire’s heights did not at all seem appealing! For once, her restless nature had settled, and her travel-worn paws had stilled, and her vagrant nature had quieted into something that resembled a languid peace.The mother felt quite at ease.

But beneath that, she also felt quite guilty. 

Often, in her respite, the druid mused upon her role in Sunspire. It was still a large grey area, as she had not the luxury to explore her relationships with her peers before her pregnancy altered everything. What had she offered to Sunspire before now — what could she offer, save for hungry babes to feed, or an adult who’s hunting skilled were nothing better than remedial? In her stints with both Teaghlaigh and Moonspear, it was Dakarai who hunted and Dakarai who tended to pack matters, and it was Dakarai who was truly subservient and was oh-so-willing to utter those colorful pledges that made pack leaders keen on accepting/feeding/housing/caring for a family of five. 

Dakarai had done it all, and Olive offered very little of tangible value — sure, she could read the stars and speak to the gods and, yes, she had offered to help rear the @Rannoch and Liffey’s soon-to-be litter, but such a service seemed to pale in comparison to what they had given her. Their support and security allowed her to experience a sense of amity that had long since escaped her. Olive wondered how long it might last, and when her aegis from all the world’s evils might dissolve.

If someone wished to find Olive that April afternoon, the pale druid could be found sunbathing — a surprise to no one. She had made a half-hearted attempt to forage, and briefly she considered visiting the cache, but soon found that she wanted to lay down more than she wanted food in her belly. Not that she was too hungry nowadays; as the woman rolled into the final days preceding the birth of her litter, she found her body stiff and organs to be cramped and hunger was not on the forefront of her concerns. Instead, her awareness lingered on a pervasive sense of discomfort and tightness that had crept up in the past day or so, and knew her time would come soon. 

But, until that happened, she snoozed in the sun and staved off contrition for another day. 
and all my days are trances, and all my nightly dreams
are where thy grey eye glances, and where thy footstep gleams
in what ethereal dances, by what eternal streams