Herbalists' Cache lull of war

Each time the woman leaves them it is like summer being torn away, and the void of an empty winter takes its place.

Sometimes it is spring; the smells are different, it is still a little warm, but it is not the same - these are the moments where someone else watches over them, and in her limited state Ghenaya is remarkably indifferent. She only cries out when there is that absence, that cold that has been persistent since her arrival.

Around her squirm the other children, and there is the low and breathy voice of their mother, cooing over them. Ghenaya whines and kicks her little legs, punching the air, maybe a brother; she does not know what is said, only that the air vibrates.