Honeyed Pasture and when i am for myself, then what am i?

soundless prayers— moriah lifted her sister's chin with gentle touch, brushing through the fur of her cheek. what had her sister seen? their most innocent, what pain had she endured? איך האָבן מיסט איר. her voice was soft, clouded by plumes of heavy breath. her ears rang with desperation; surely, there was something more that she could do. moriah longed to be swallowed into her sister's arms, fully immersed in her being.

yehudis nestled against the hermit's touch. קום מיט מיר אהײם, she begged. the forest was large enough for one more, right? mal could accommodate another addition, especially after seeing how much they depended on one another. yehudis opened her mouth again, but was hushed by her sister's decline. איר וויסן איך קען נישט, moriah replied, איך האב א שבועה.

of course, yehudis knew this. her sister had long since devoted herself to something beyond either of their comprehension. did she agree with moriah's decision or its validity? well, it didn't matter; yehudis believed in their faith and the importance of their clergy, both of whom had apparently agreed to her sister's ordination. moriah saw the thoughts running through the sylph's mind and sighed, knowing intimately the inner conflict.

איך וועל בויען אַ מזבח דאָ. moriah stood onto her paws, eyes carefully scanning their surroundings. it was more open than she would have preferred, but what else was she to do? yehudis did the same. לאָזן מיר העלפן איר, she replied. building an altar meant more than establishing a site of worship. it would claim this land as belonging to their own, a safe place for any who travelled through. 

without waiting for confirmation, yehudis began sniffing for blooms, suitable for baba's throne.