The Sunspire my dove, my lamb

olive's tenderness never failed to surprise her; the seasprite's mouth parted gently as she felt the surprising roll of olive's children in her womb.  it was both frightening and awe-striking to wonder that soon, she would experience the same.

of course, she assured the woman of ash and bone, pressing her nose to the other's forehead.  you have chosen a lovely den.  her head craned up to peer at the sunlight that filtered in from above, and she noted how strangely safe she felt nestled between the slabs of stone.  are you ready?  

but she assumed that olive was.  in her eyes, olive took each of the world's punches with an effortless grace.