Whitebark Stream an' it harm none

contentness bubbles in her chest as the woman speaks. "it is," she agrees easily, peering out over the gentle hills; the maplewood to the west and the outlines of mountains to the north. it is the perfect place, she's decided, the right place. for a moment, as daylily speaks only to turn away toward the creek, it seems nothing can go wrong; bliss settle lightly over her. 

and yet—

she hums, a soft tone, before speaking. "last time we spoke, you were telling me about your beliefs. I'm curious; what do you think of blessings, and curses?" it is only gentle curiosity that shapes her words, nothing to indicate the very real weight that lays heavy across her shoulders. perhaps it is only circumstance; she'd spoken to khoe, and her reasons had been clear. but amber, khoe, catori beside; it was too many. and her own family—