Moonspear I can laugh at your jokes, convince you to take me home

A shake of his head. Denial of life. A failure, she had already been proven, regardless of what came next.

Tears threatened to pour from her cheeks, but they could not. More pain would follow, agonized whines seeping from her tightened lips.

Closer. Nasamik begged of her husband. He was so far away. She could not touch him. To feel his embrace and shed any sorrow for their loss. Though, unknown to her, it would not be their only.

A second wave. Down next to where the other child had landed, a babe was lain. And like the last, it was still, unmoving, breathles. But like the last, she did not know it. 

She could have moved to check, but fear and pain kept her still, frozen. She could not bear to be a disappointment yet again.