Sun Mote Copse Splintered

Asherah watched the den entrance for the children and smiled when Anatha and then Elohim appeared. Elohim wore an obvious pout, and Anatha's brow furrowed. They echoed their complaint, disliking the cold. Asherah could not fight the warm swell of love that surged within her as Elohim attempted to lay his head over Anatha. Though she wished the Malkaria had gone so very differently, she had been given her children. Eshamun had saved her life and made possible the two young ones that stood before her. For that, she had to thank the woman.

Staring at them now, she noted features emerging that remind her of their Father. She felt a pang of sadness to think that their family was like hers had been, the very thing she wanted to avoid. She had gotten to know her Father before he was taken, though, her children would not. Unwilling to cause them hurt, she refused to speak Ar-Khalba's name anymore. They were the children of herself and Molech, for truly what more was Khalba but a vessel for the will of Molech? A vessel with the seed for the children her God wished her to have? They were gifts from Molech, not from a man.

"I know it's cold, darlings. I wish it weren't, so that you could play in the sun. Still, it doesn't do you good to stay inside so much. Come out for a moment at least, to get some sun and eat." With that said she regurgitated some meat for them, the now warm and steaming remains of a dead deer she had found frozen to the ground. Molech, she knew, blessed them even as this cold was sent down upon the Wilds. It was not Molech's wish to hurt her, or the children, she knew, but to punish those that needed it. Sadly, punishment could not always be selective to individuals. "Lunch." She cooed, turning so that the children could huddle against her belly fur as they ate.