Hushed Willows would you still love me the same.

The woman was quiet for what seemed like such a long while. Harlyn began to worry. Maybe she needed to say more. Maybe she needed to lie down and beg. A terrible thought struck her then, that perhaps this woman would reject them all. Could she beg them to at least take her and her children? Could she beg this mother to take, if no one else, her children? The thought was one she had considered before, in her darkest hours. If she could not find shelter for herself, Little Voice and Shikoba, would she have the strength to leave her children with complete strangers if it meant they would be cared for?

Yes. She would.

Fortunately, the gods at long last gave the druid a break. Octavia was quiet when she spoke again, but her voice grew as she continued. Harlyn's heart throbbed at her words, and tears pricked the corners of her eyes. She had taken care of her family. She had not failed them this time. She was trembling as she breathed in relief. "You have no idea what this means to me," she murmured, but then stopped as she realized that yes, perhaps Octavia did know. Perhaps she knew exactly what it meant.

"I am Harlyn.. Ostrega," she said, faltering slightly and surprisingly at her surname. Was she an Ostrega still without Mordecai? Her children were yes, but what was she now? "Thank you, Octavia," she continued, brushing the introspective query away for a later time.