Hushed Willows come to me, my sweetest friend.

Larkspur had always loved naps: morning naps, afternoon naps and evening naps. Ever since the locust swarm and the start of the famine, she had slept more than usual, although often it was quite fitful. Sleep had eluded her altogether the first few days in the Marauder's Keep. But eventually her exhaustion caught up with her, even as she began to accept her family's fate and settle into the willow woods. She resumed her previous napping schedule, with a few extras sprinkled here and there due to sheer lack of energy. There was still very little to eat, so it seemed wise to conserve energy this way. Plus, there was the added bonus: sleep was a temporary respite from all her worries, a blissful stretch of blankness where everything simply ceased to exist.

She was drifting when Harlyn returned to the mouth of The Crook and summoned all three of her children. By the time Spur came around, Silas was already stepping out of the den to greet their mother. Spur smacked her dry lips together and sleepily pushed upright, then rose onto all fours. She blinked her big blue eyes several times as she became more and more aware of her surroundings. Casting a look around herself, she tiptoed from the cavern and hastened to stand beneath Harlyn, gazing up at her mother with bleary fondness to match Silas's. Her pink tongue darted out to kiss her dam's chin.