Emberwood the black hills, the bad lands, the calloused east

She tried to listen to Cortez, she really did, but his words were overshadowed by the enormous pressure she felt gripping her midsection. She nodded along like a good girl, but soon it became clear that her attention was entirely directed towards the inner workings of her body and not towards his words. When she was overtaken with pain, she held her breath — and in the moments between pain, her breathe came fast and quick. “—oh, god…” she choked out, knowing that there was no way she could pick herself up from the ground, nonetheless hike all the way back to Elysium. It was simply too great, and much too fast, and she feared anything additional might worsen their circumstances already.

— and that’s what Olive honestly began to believe, lying there upon the forest floor. These were bad circumstances, really bad. She was not supposed to birth her children this early (if she was going by her past two pregnancies, she carried late and labored easy). This experience was not late, nor easy; instead, pain and discomfort tore through her at irregular intervals and did not feel anything like the experiences from before. She feared something must be very, very wrong.

If she was in the role of midwife, and another poor women had been in her shoes, there were many things that she would have done differently. She would have worked to calm the mother, and instructed her to trust her body’s instincts — ride the waves, don’t fight them. But Olive was not in her mode of professionalism; in fact, in the face of hurting her children, she very quickly lost her sense of decorum. Tears brimming in her eyes, she did not know how to make the ache in her belly stop, so she turned to Cortez and pleaded with him in a voice that edged upon panic.

“I can’t,” she gasped out, tensing all the muscles in her body to lift up to her feet, but the pain within her was too great. “Brother, go get Seabreeze,” she entreated, begging him not to refute her. “She will know what to do.” In reality, Seabreeze probably did not know what to do. They both, as physicians, knew that some things were purely out of their hands — but Seabreeze was her rock, had been when her first baby died, and would always be. If things were to turn sour, Seabreeze needed to be here. There was no other way around it. She begged, desperately.

Taking advantage of a moment where her body was not tensing and cramping, she turned to her stomach and pressed her nose against one of the lives within. “My children, be still… it is not yet time…” she spoke to them, wondering if they could hear. Then she looked back towards Cortez. She didn’t want him to leave, not now — not when something was wrong. She didn't want to face this alone, and he certainly wouldn't get back in time.