Stone Circle here comes a candle

The child ate until they could not.
They were spirited! Their voice carried in to Sanja's chest, and as their toes wiggled in the dirt Sanja wanted to cry and to laugh, because it reminded her of being young herself; she was still young, she thought. Not yet at a stage in her life where this was expected. Her parents would have shunned her for taking in this wretched little thing.

The woman was lonely, though. She thought of the man and the stag. She thought of the grandfather protector. Slavuj too, and the wild man of the rise.

Quietly, more to herself at first, Sanja began to hum a tune. She felt her heart thundering beneath her breast and hoped to calm herself, as well as lull the child to sleep.

Sofdu lengi, sofdu rótt,
seint mun best ad vakna.

The humming became a soft poem. It was something she recalled her own mothing reciting, long ago.

Maedan kenna mun thér fljótt,
medan hallar degi skjótt.
Ad mennirnir elska, missa,

gráta og sakna.

Sighing softly, Sanja tucks herself around the child and feels a brief wave of calm.