Deepwood Weald Fruit punch

Starbuck watched the tears slip down the golden child's fair face and sighed again. It was not a sigh of contempt, nor of frustration. It was of sympathy, and perhaps some self-pity. On tenterhooks, Starbuck stepped forward, moving to nuzzle Larkspur in an attempt to comfort. Perhaps it was crossing a line, touching her, but it hurt Starbuck so to watch the girl in such misery. It was her own weakness, to care so greatly and so freely, but Starbuck accepted her weaknesses with her strengths.

For a moment she only listened to the girl's hiccuping sobs, wishing for her Sight to grant her some sign of how to move forward. I want to, she said, firmly but not unkindly. Deirdre loves so strongly and so blindly that it blinds her sometimes, I think. She wishes to keep you near because she loves you so. But I distrust that man. His scent carried the same, thick brine that the foul beast she met upon the shore did. She would not accuse, but if Skellige hardbored wolves so base and savage, she could never trust him.

You belong to no one but yourself, dear Larkspur, she affirmed. Again I ask, let me take you to your family. It would be a great comfort to myself and Deirdre to know you arrived safe.

And as though the mere mention of her called her, a scream rent the air. The voice was Deirdre's. Had the witch seen fit to follow them? In her condition it was unwise. It was dangerous. At once Starbuck moved to follow the sound, but indecision held her back. To help Deirdre, or Larkspur? At once her heart was torn asunder, her singular loyalty to Deirdre fueling her quandry. Deirdre was not well. She needed attention from a healer. But they were near enough to Donnelaith that her scream might have been heard.

Larkspur was young, and though she could make the journey to wherever her home lay, there was no way to ensure her safety unless she was escorted. If something happened to Larkspur, Deirdre would never forgive Starbuck. It was that that helped her make her decision, though in her heart she still held doubts. Please, Larkspur, she pleaded, casting one final glace in the direction from which the scream had come. Let me see you safetly home.