Hushed Willows blue, green, or black; smooth or mountainous; that ocean is not silent

Olive was languishing in the last trimester of her pregnancy, knowing that everything, everywhere was as fine and fine could be. Long gone were the times of wanting and worries; now was the time for gratitude and contentedness. She stayed close to her two wives when she wished for company and bade herself the freedom to leave when she wished to be alone. Amongst that and her ever-present desire to swim and feast upon meat as would a normal carnivore [the only urge that ever overtook her when she was pregnant], she was kept rather busy.  

She was walking aimlessly amongst the willows, as she do, when she came across Cassioepia’s trail. Happiness lit every nerve ending in her body as a skip lighted her step and she made haste towards her star-speckled daughter. “Cassiopeia! What a lovely surprise,” she called out when the rump of the dark girl came into sight; Olive quickly overtook her and came up beside her, planting a familiar kiss behind Cass’s ear as she did so. “How are you?” she questioned, Cassiopeia’s scent not yet strong enough to write the story on its own. The druid smiled at this coincidence, loving that her daughter felt safe enough within the sanctuary to come and go as she pleased, like a second home.