Dawnlark Plains ι

Other Shore watched - felt - Star Eater snap and collapse and pour out all the grief she had. Set undone by a touch of kindness from another mother. She embraced the woman's burden, even if she could only feel what must be a fraction of her weight.

Helplessness lapped her heart in waves.

She stood there, tense and pondering at Star Eater's words, watching as the Winsook woman comforted her in means only known to women who carried the burden of protection. Women, whether they were mothers or caregivers or commanders of war, shared the responsibility of caring so much - too much! - upon their shoulders alone. Other Shore did not have a right to interfere in the moment; she did not have a right to intrude upon Star Eater's fearful grieving. So she merely did the best she could while remaining invisible. But still it burned her to see a boiling tear rolling from Star Eater's eyes; still the empathy of the stranger surprised her warmly. 

Sun Eater the madman had tried to kill one person. Perhaps he did not realize who else would find their heart torn out as a consequence. Or perhaps he knew, and ignored it.

The Winsook man was searching for reason when reason had fallen to the command of emotion. Star Eater had every right now to snarl at his insensitivity, but he, too, had the right to question the complexities of the conflict.

Now Star Eater suppressed what she could of the tremble in her voice, doing everything she could to not fall apart, to not curl up and lose all control. So Other Shore did what she could to make her feel grounded, big, steady - shifting her weight here and there, whispering It’s alright, it’s alright under her breath repeatedly. Do not apologize for how you feel, Star Eater. Let yourself truly feel everything, and only then will you be able to have everything in control.