Honeyed Pasture Water stings the lungs

A breath of affirmation: "I must get you to my Weald."

In the mists would she not only find better accommodations but better easement to her ailments. First, however — with the same nose that'd reached for the cloaked female did the stricken begin to prod. Gently she went, following the line of heaved shoulder and along the pronged ribs. Repeated the words of he who had lain with her, once upon her own desolation:  "Tell me where ze pain is, where it is not,"  a quiet hum,  "and if you think you are able enlugh to stand with me."

The sibyl would wait for however long, though; and would only commence when the argent was ready.