Stavanger Bay and the fire with all the strength it hath

For @Qilaq - tagging Sizzle for vizzlebility

She did not know the pain in her body; felt only the subtle weight in her jaws. If she were a saner woman, she would know that her paws bled into the sand she trod upon, and that her nose was cracked and raw and dry. She would know that her belly ached and her bee stings sweltered, and that she was very near to the end of her rope.

But Doe was not a sane woman. Her own name was hardly familiar to her, and the earthly body she inhabited was no more than a tool she used to meet the demands of a life lived largely in the terrifying muddles of her own mind. She knew no pain; only the warm weight of her girl.

The sun beat down, sapping the last dregs of her strength as she made it to her den. @Szymon would have been better for the task of taking this burden, but Doe had insisted he ferry home the herbs instead; the girl was hers to carry - Skellige had made that clear.

Setting the girl upon the precious fawnskin that her love had gathered for her, Doe quickly set about cleaning the slobber from her fur and snuffing over her tiny body with fussy determination. If it was the last thing she did, Doe would see the girl become well and healthy.

"Sweet lamb," she crooned, her voice low and sweet as she settled herself around her girl. "Do you have a name?"