Hushed Willows Series of unfortunate events

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Imprisoned, banished, into a nexus of my own design...
Now Time mocks me, and my sentence is Gravity.

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It had begun. Within the nocturnal slumber of her call, even through the time of day, this child knew where comfort lay, where solace and love truly bode her near. Zafina watched with a hungry gaze, whispen fur dancing ethereal over her slender body, still stretched by her forsaken but unforgoten children. Her children whom were taken from her...
the children who bade her, 

‘take her, mother...
take her.‘

So take her, she would. 
She crooned softly to the babe, a response to the whine, a soft and passionate promise to love and feed, to comfort and teach. It was growing livelihood and a future of prosperity, of happiness. 
All of it, wrapped in a sharply laced turquoise bow of voice, lilted silkily to Minnow, encouragement to further meet her.

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But every sky will build my throne.

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