Honeyed Pasture this pain is just too real

Her starvation had taken her out of Neverwinter and into the Wilderness. It was not intentional; Eshe was so utterly honed in on her hunt that she did not note when the trees stopped and plains began, and when the plains themselves ended she did not even notice that. She followed the flight of geese that first she had heard, then she had seen. They landed, here, at the Pasture... and the incredibly hungry Eshe watched them.

Prematurely, Eshe prepared to go after them. Hunger made one do silly things, didn't it? But one step forward was all it took for her world to shift on its axis; a great pain, worse than the one but a few days ago [and she had felt no kicking since then] tore at her from the inside out. She let out a gasp, and as her eyes widened she realized she was not at Neverwinter at present. Ahead, a far distance away, was the ocean which she had never seen... and Eshe felt the pain continue to tear at her, and collapsed at the effort of enduring it.

fortune was on the others side as surely as misfortune--for deirdre was near, and she heard what she thought to be a scream. 'twas but the howling wind that whipped at her furs and bid her go this way--and so she did, without question, as she knew the spirits were her guide and would never lead her astray.

the young girl caught sight of the flock upon the pasture, but beyond her saw another lump upon the earth. she was reminded of the man she had found beneath the knife-like tree, but the shape of the other was different. something was wrong, terribly wrong. deirdre was not sure what, but she knew the other needed help.

she drew to the others side with a quiet urgency, sniffing, and when nothing caused her to panic she arrived to the front of the woman, who stared forward with wide eyes. she followed the womans gaze, and then looked back to the taupe wolf, who shuddered beside her and let out a long wail.

deirdre worried at that--the other looked rigid. and then she saw the shape of the others belly... equally worrisome, truly, for it was pronounced and yet the rest of her was like skin and bones! awaken, deirdre commanded in her witches voice, look to me, be here with me, she prompted, unsure, though she had spoken with conviction, if the other would be able to obey even if they were of the right mind.

pp consent given

Eshe had let forth a sound and did not know what it was. Did not know much of anything but for this pain--it felt as though what was within her was not simply trying to come out, but... but... the thought was too horrible to think of. It was as though this were its final hunger, its last plea, but they had only given her seconds to answer and she had nothing to answer them with! Eshe was dizzy with this thought and this fear, and out of her mind; it was then someone brought her back, a voice digging into her psyche and ripping her from one world to the next.

Her eyes fell upon the most beautiful thing she had ever in her life beheld. Skinny though the other was, the creature was not emaciated. Eshe could not get a sense for the others age, for to her own eyes she looked like a woman grown, voluptuous and gorgeous and resplendent in her white gown. Eshe knew that in all of her years, nothing had ever been so beautiful as this. The others beauty was so great that, absurdly, she felt self-conscious. So lovely was she that her pain was distracted by it--even those within her were brought to stillness, as though they knew this moment of silence was necessary, to respect what the eyes could hardly process in this moment.

But it did not last long. Eshe writhed against the earth, closed her eyes tightly. Another scream threatened to break free, but it did not. Scimitar, she managed to make out, exhaustedly.

the other was alive, was present, and though a name was said deirdre did not know what it meant or who it might be. it mattered not! the woman still had breath in her. none would die this day. she moved toward the belly but paused only when the movement was not well-received. please -- let me. i will not hurt you, she could only hope she would be permitted this. something was wrong here, and the girl sought to find out what, exactly, this was.

Eshe lay on the earth while her body revolted. She wasn't much use for anything, even self defense, but she was a woman possessed as the pretty pale creature--too pretty for a wolf, much too pretty!--came toward her abdomen. She used every ounce of strength to lift and snap at the whiskers of the other, spittle flying from the edges of her own lips. But the other was gentle, sweet. Descended from the stars. Charon would recognize her, she felt. The moons daughter, with the earth shining from her eyes. Angel. Cherub.

Was it her exhaustion that caused her to accept? It felt like she had very little fight left in her at all. In a moment of desperation, Eshe spoke to the being of the other world. Save them, she moaned, and a ripple of pain struck her, as violent as the sea during a storm, Save them... How could they survive? How could she? Scimitar had done well in keeping them fed as well as they could be in the famine. So had Neverwinter. But she was afraid it wasn't enough! She begged, now, in sobs, for the others divine intervention. What more could she do?

deirdre's gentleness was accepted, and she was utterly distraught at the others begging--what was she to do, how was she to do it? the others eyes were upon her, and the child at last drew near to the stomach to listen, to feel. there was life there, but the life was costly: save them, she was asked. i do not know that i can save them all, she spoke, not looking to the mother. for deirdre felt the looming hand of death hovering o'er her shoulder. a terrible informant. but it need not tell her a thing--the woman before her was emaciated, and could die from childbirth herself. still, there was surely something she could do to protect those she could.

and so the cub drifted 'round the taupe woman, knowing time was of the essence, knowing that she must do what she could with what little she had. deirdre moved to find small stones, indiscriminate of shape or hue or color. they were perfect enough to her, and she had the drive and the intent. she cleansed the area firstly, and when the stones were cast down she began her quarter calls.

to the spirits she simply asked aid, and that they watch over this woman and help nourish what they could. she was specific; she prayed for the woman she did not know, and prayed for the new life that could be saved. she had felt the dead inside of the other, the life and yet the stillness.

and then came the chant, said with conviction, said in her witches voice: she felt the heat of day press against her spine, she felt the winds swirl and surround her as the air became tangible, she felt the power of life beneath her in the earth that returned to them, she felt the moisture turn to dew upon the shoots nearby--spirit itself rallied behind the word, projected from the lyrics that she chanted in her spell:

àile, uisge, teine, talamh,
     còmhla ri chèile, a 'dìon a' breith,
     seo a dhèanamh airson beatha eintiteas,
     ga dhèanamh airson a 'mhàthair gu sàbhailte,
     còmhla ri chèile gus an cuideachadh seo leanabh,
     cuiribh o cuiribh, So Mote It Be!

and at the finish, it felt as though each element did sing. the wind came to a howl, the suns heat was its greatest, the earth veritably vibrated beneath her, and there, in the distance, the ocean churned and roared. deirdre's reservoir felt diminished, and she was swift to thank the elements, thank the spirits, worshipful and reverent, adoring and loving. her praises ended only when she heard the woman at the circles center groan, and when this occurred deirdre bid the elements depart, thanking them again, before closing the circle.

she turned to the woman, her eyes watchful; deirdre would not leave the woman to nothing, if she was not well. breathlessly, she looked to eshe, waiting for a sign or signal.

The pain was so great that truly, Eshe did not hear all that was said. If she did, it did not process. The other was near her belly, but the moment hardly felt real... save them.

She lapsed into a catatonic state, and stiffened. But the growing winds roused her, and she came to, hearing the rhythmic words. Magic, she felt magic, and she thought of Charon. It was real, magic. She felt it now. Believed in it. How could she not? It was this belief that caused her to come awares, snapping to at the final words and feeling their power.

The pain subsided. For minutes she simply lay there in silence. Seconds later, the white supernatural woman was there, and Eshe breathed out a shaky: thank-you... for she felt something had been done, felt stronger for it. Even those within seemed to sense a change; they were no longer rampant inside of her. All had been brought to a peaceful pause.

Much more time passed before Eshe rose to all fours. I am Eshe, of Neverwinter. Should you ever need a place to stay, or anythin'... I mean, what am I sayin', she was talking to a creature not of this world. I ought to get back. Shouldn't have left at all, honestly, but then, you know, things happen for a reason, and I met you, didn't I????? And I know I met you for a reason. I know my babies, they'll have you to thank... she waited for an introduction, and only afterward did she turn to go. Don't fuss over me now--I'll be alright. Feel like I'm bein' watched over, or somethin'. Whew. That's different. Well, alright... And Eshe turned to go, without another word, feeling the eyes of the other upon her.