Honeyed Pasture this pain is just too real

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.