The Sunspire my dove, my lamb

Olive leaned into Seabreeze’s touch, fully appreciating the overwhelming sense of calm she felt when in the other’s presence. Olive had great admiration for the sea sprite — there was a certain strength that came from staring your own mortality in the face, challenging it willingly, and surviving the live the tale — and she welcomed it with open arms and a loving heart. Perhaps the only other to receive such high accolades and familiarity from Olive would be Rannoch, and that had been for essentially saving her entire brood by letting them reside upon their mountain and subsist off of their wealth, acting very much as a leech in the river would. Yes, there was a strength in Rannoch too that Olive loved. She owed him very much for it — Liffey, too.

Despite the growing tensity of her womb, the fae beamed when complimented on her choice of dwelling. It was similar to the home she had shared with Dakarai and her firstborn litter of babes, amongst the bleeding arbors of Teaghlaigh; and, for all intents and purposes, she might as well have been there right now. Happy, safe and amongst friends — hopefully, this time it would last. “Oh my, thank you,” she tittered sweetly. “and, oh, how can I not be?” As she had spoke, the gravid woman found herself to be restless and began to indulge in a slow, feline-esque pacing in front of the fractured masonry that was her home; but when she asked her rhetorical question, Olive paused to look over her shoulder at Seabreeze and swish her tail.

“I am amongst the most wonderful of friends. I have met you!” the woman explained needlessly, but passionately. “My daughter Cassiopeia is with me, and I will soon be made a mother again. I am so ready for this. 

Her diatribe had ended and a smile remained upon her maw, but all that dissolved into a pained expression as her body bore down in its first real contraction. Olive grit her teeth against the discomfort, suddenly remembering all the birth pains of her first litter [the memory of which had been, until this moment, been completely erased by new-mommy hormones] and steeling herself against it, letting it awaken something deep within her, something more primal — but then the wave crashed and passed. Olive bit her lip sheepishly and moved close to the sandy-hued woman once more.

She looked at her knowingly. “Oh, but are you ready, sister? Before you know it, this too will be you.” When Olive had learned of Seabreeze’s pregnancy, she had been nothing but happy, happy, happy. She had been neglecting her gods, as most fallible mortals did during their times of plenty, but Olive took this as a clear sign of synchronicity; a sign that the druid was doing right by them, and was pursuing her righteous path by bearing their children, and being the willing conduit between the spirit realm and the physical world. Why else would the bestow her with the blessing of not just Seabreeze's babies, but with Liffey's babies as well. Certainly, there would be some marriages that needed arranging, or something.