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

he stared at his puke for a long time before the muffled impact of flesh upon earth caught his attention, and he wheeled to see olive trembling and convulsing, more blood coming. shuddering himself, cortez knelt once more beside her, curling closer to his sister than he had been in a while. how long had it been, since they'd been so connected? at their mother's teat? or before that, even, before memories started—within the womb?

i won't let you die, he whispered, his voice fervent. it was a promise he couldn't make, but damn it, he'd make it anyway. he wasn't about to see his sister slip away before his eyes. not in the prime of her life. i'm not gonna let you die, olive shakti. you're gonna stay right here with me and. . .and these kids are gonna come, and it'll be wonderful.

he laid down and pulled her nearer to him, trying to keep the scent of blood out of mind. even mama earth struggles, cortez murmured. earthquakes, volcanoes, thunderstorms and blizzards. but the flowers always come, always. she pulls through and you will, too. again, another promise he couldn't make. he didn't really know what he was talking about at this point, only that he wanted to quell the fear within her—bring some peace to a situation fraught with terror.