Sun Mote Copse red breath

The call awoke her. Blearily she lifted her head. Had it not been Arunik'ra's voice, she would have gone back to sleep. But it was the priestess, and that drew her to her feet. Ragna stretched, first, and yawned widely before she began to move with great urgency. It had come from the interior of the forest, not the borders, and the strange hour meant but one thing to Ragna. Eshamun's time had come.

This spurred her on. Though the thought of what was to come terrified her, but she knew that it would be no better for Eshamun, or Arunik'ra, or Ar-Khalba, who was their father. Would this be easier for them, since they had been born into the culture? Or did the knowledge that they could have been culled hang over them. It was far too personal for her to ask, and she could never trust herself to voice the question correctly.

As she approached, the sound of flowing water predominated, but beneath it she thought she could hear the squeaking cry of children.

Immediately, the copper stink of blood hit her. Ragna gave a startled gasp, shocked to see Eshamun and how much blood had pooled beneath her. Upon the bloodied grass lay five squalling pups, tended to not by Eshamun but Arunik'ra. Even Ragna, who had never witnessed a birth and took no great interest in motherhood, knew this to be wrong. But it was not her place to say anything. To groom them would be too great a temptation. She, Eshamun, might become attached. A deep, painful ache opened within her heart and gut like a chasm. The child in her wanted to flee, to not have to watch what was to come. But she was Shieldmaiden. She was the heir of Ragnar. She would not flee, and she would be tempered by this. She was brave, brave enough for this.

Unsure of what her place was, Ragna sat nearby, out of the way but close enough to come if she was asked. Do you need help? she asked, though she did not know how she could. Looking upon Eshamun's trembling body and not doing anything seemed wrong, though, and offering her help felt right.