Stone Circle oel ngati kameie

This time when Katla graces her mother with one blue eye she is only silent, tears gathering quickly at the corners of her own and with the gentlest of touches she kisses the side of one full, brown cheek.

“Hi, my darling,” she whispers to her, “it’s your momma. Do you know how loved you are?”

These baby blues must be childhood’s eyes; an expression of the magical elysium that belongs to only children, and she carefully brings her little daughter to be beside her brother, to see them both and capture this feeling. Her tail wags fiercely and she pecks the side of Fig’s face with overwhelming pride at their creation; Fig was right, they are perfect.

She looks at their children, separate and strong and with more power over them than any spirit or god. A time ago her immediate inclination might have been to transfer all her wishes onto them, like a re-do at life, to fix her mistakes, and smooth out the edges...

No, she wants them to be only themselves. One day they will make a silly joke, or clever observation, and she will know then that they are no longer her children but her young people-

But they will always be her babies.