Blackfeather Woods ready for the funeral

Shego furrowed her brow deeply at her sisters words, her temper burning within her.

"Well," comes her agitated voice, "we should bring the new mother a gift." Perhaps getting into the mothers good-graces would work in their favor. A thin-lipped smile was given, and she reaches in her memory until the idea occurred to her.

Drunk with the idea, she slurred, "The amulet of their given-name. It would bless those of that family," she lurches nearer to her sister, in her face, teeth bared in her devilish grin, "But if our sister is in one, she will not be blessed." She would be, in a different way; she would be given to those of their name, back to she and Lakhesis, to resume her destiny in a healthier body. But the family would know it. Would know of the odd one, not so prone to happiness, pleasure, and luck.