Dragoncrest Cliffs vwa lanmè a

maman was going to give birth now.

maman had instructed sobeille of what to expect earlier; how it was the mother's gift to the world, and how she and all her sisters would come together to celebrate new life.

sobeille was lukewarm to this prospect. new life meant more siblings. more siblings could be good or bad. her current siblings weren't so great, in sobeille's grim estimation. thibault was alright, on account he'd stayed.

despite her best attempts to steel her heart, sobeille felt a pang of loss thinking about tousaint and chantale. no! she would not mourn them.

maman rose from the sea, her fur sodden and trailing saltwater as she pulled to the shore. in that moment the full breadth of her belly was evident. sobeille's gaze flickered to val indifferently as the pair made for the mosswood.

sobeille was fascinated by what came next. she crawled her way atop one of the broken arms of the ruined tree, peering down at maman as she folded her way into the palm of the collapsed trunk.

maman's belly hosted four lumpy lives -- how had she managed to fit all of those under the small twist of her ribcage?

sobeille watched, her curiosity hardly sated as she peered down on the gristly ritual below. each baby was strained from maman's belly, ensconced in a dark film that reminded sobeille of jellyfish skin. were they swimming in that otherworld, before they were evicted to earth? her wide eyed gaze absorbed it all; the way maman cleared the caul from each head with surgical precision, cleaning each babe and stirring life into their small, protesting bodies.

they were so fragile -- so vulnerable.

surely, sobeille had never been that small.