Stavanger Bay dream me the world, something new for every night

Doe was happy to hear that Deirdre was healing well, but that was where the Blackrock woman's pleasure ended. The pale queen went on to speak openly and at length about the delicate young lives that grew in Doe's womb, seeming not to know what terrible curses it might bring down on the innocent babes. Doe's eyes widened and her jaw gaped wide in a hiss of displeasure as she backed quickly away from the poisonous words.

Still, she could not be angry with the girl.

"Dei, stop, I beg you," she bade, quickly regaining the ground she'd given up and moving to place a kiss against the taller wolf's cheek. She glanced surreptitiously around, as if to check that no demons were listening in or watching from the cover of the trees. "It's terrible luck to speak of the unborn," she said in a hushed voice, eyes pleading for the other to understand. "Thank you for your herbs - I am in your debt - but please do not speak of this again unless we are in the birthing den."

Only then did the woman turn her attention to the flora Deirdre had brought along. Indeed, Doe had known of its uses and exisitence - but she'd felt no need to fetch any for herself. Like her mother before her, the dusky shewolf hadn't experienced much sickness. In any case, that time had passed for her.

Still, Doe was grateful to her forest friend. They would use the herbs for the king's girl - the stranger with the burning eyes that Doe still couldn't bring herself to approach. Doe thought to tell Deirdre about this, but held her tongue for worry of the woman's - and, probably, Skellige's - unborn.