Sun Mote Copse yellow ranger

her time was very near, eshamun knew; the testament to this were the tightening cramps around her lower body, which did not truly hurt but caused enough discomfort to drive the woman from the shade and into the summerlight. her joints were stiff from the weight of her belly, and instinctively she turned toward the shrine of the malkaria. she would attend molech there; the eight-armed one, if it was fit, would remove her weariness, she hoped. she moved among the silent trees, closing her eyes as she paused to bask in the presence of the god, and when she opened them, ragna was there, an offering of fish in her jaws. a smile wreathed eshamun's face, brightening her tired features. "shieldmaiden."