Broken Antler Fen Good wives always know.

All her wailing worked for good; mama's attention was entirely on her. Jasmine finally found her position in the prime of mama's eyes, and that was one thing her own eyes were good for.

She received the shower of kisses and licks with dying whimpers, oblivious to the bitterness of every stripe. When the rhythm would inevitably wane, she'd blink open eyes of baby blue to stare up at Ibis with a cry. Surely mama would understand what had made her so upset. Surely she would know how to make things dark and seeingless and better again.