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

Olive’s expression grew stern as Cassiopeia listed her symptoms. Her daughter felt lethargic, achey and nauseous — all signs of the flu, or perhaps something worse. The nurse listened astutely, nodding every other moment as she gave Cassiopeia is once-over, a visual inspection. This yielded nothing out of the ordinary [although the mother was surprised at how many scars littered her daughters body, carefully hidden by her dark fur] so Olive leaned in close and inspected her by scent. Still, nothing super strange.

The druid pursed her lips and bit at the inside of her cheek. Just because Olive couldn’t find anything outwardly wrong with her daughter, but that didn’t mean the experience of her illness wasn’t real. Pain and nausea were something that needed to be dealt with, for the sufferers sake. “You don’t smell or appear to be diseased,” she said, not in disbelief. "and you’re much too young for most other ailments.” Not to say it didn’t happen, but it was unlikely. Then, the thought struck her — Cassiopeia was a young girl no more. She had met a man, she had disclosed in their last meeting. This opened up a new realm of possibilities that, quick frankly, delighted the druid.

Unable to help the smile from spreading across her lips, she questioned “Did you cycle this year?” and raised a motherly eyebrow. Now was not the time to be shy.