Lion Head Mesa Malachite

pretty things, gathered by pretty paws. tavina scolded herself; why, you're no better than a man! truly! and turned with near-spinster studiousness to her sorting of neat, tiny piles, three to five of each ingredient.

"you've certainly laid in a summer stock. most of this will be able to keep two years, with good curing." she smiled at eset. "unfortunately i have. it's part of healing." she thought of the old, the sick, and more than once, a starving young mother who gave up the ghost in childbed.

what would have happened to nala when she too went into travail?

her heart ached.