Jade Fern Grove landwirtschaft

she loved her children so much, but perhaps that was the very definition of performativeness. she needed to go after her small ones, the children she still thought of as so very little; even if she could not heal them, she could at least gather them beneath the eyes of god.
and yet — her heart burst with such love for her boy and for the children of druid that she knew she was bound here, and wished to be bound.
there was a shadow and then there was a man, staring at her with an expression vaguely familiar in the very sheen of its dourness.
her eyes traced with a briefly widening shock at the clawing upon his face; her ears faded, and she felt suddenly foolish to be so soaked with grief beneath the gaze of a stranger.
clearing her throat, a woman pulling a handkerchief from a faded bodice, heda wiped her eyes and offered a self-mocking parody of a chuckle. "sorry if i disturbed you," she murmured, inching up and back. "i can go," and she took a step to do just that, unable to muster more as her jawline went rigid with renewed emotion.