the frequent, demanding illness suffered by her sister forced a strange sense of guilt into heda. she had passed from her own illness into equilibrium and softly her own slight flanks were starting to swell.
heda was never far from druid, instructing @Ava Amara and @Dinah to hunt for their aunt as well. @John was gone away, but each day heda had prayed for him at dawn and dusk.
her faith had become her own; no more did she preach. and yet the whispered words were clutched to heart as a talisman, a tome, a rosary.
heda needed god, even as she understood she must transmute her worship into silence. maybe her daughters did not have the same necessity, but heda did not think she could exist without it.
in dawnleaf, the pale bird butchered the beaver she had managed to catch after long hours beside the icy lagoon. there was a lump of fat above the tail that she felt could be more appealing to her sister, and perhaps easier to keep down. medicine was not something she knew, though heda understood the use of such basics as mint and lavender, and offered the former from time to time. 
caching the remains of the beaver and re-entering their den, heda inhaled. with a pang she saw again how thin druid had become, and a thin stab of fear pierced her gut. pressing herself close to her sister for a moment, heda brought the round piece of warm fat close, pushed toward druid on a piece of bark. "do you think you could eat that?"