Sun Mote Copse And like the dawn

She found the storyleader in a busy contemplation, accompanied by a soft hum. The woman’s belly was swollen now - the copse would soon see the coming of life. And yet she had an upbeat air to her. Despite the clear toll of pregnancy, Waawaashkeshi maintained a whimsy that A’yan found herself admiring. 

Was she in silence-singing? Did she need that moment to breathe and talk alone to the earth? Unable to make out her mumbling, A’yan turned away, hoping she had not interrupted the woman’s quiet choir. Perhaps she would ask her what the grasses told her later?

Then she turned around again. Was the storyleader in need of aid? She appeared to be in search of something. If it was a verse within the grasses, then A’yan perhaps could try to listen with her - but otherwise, she could not do much to help. Then again, perhaps it was not a song of the copse that she was searching for…?

A’yan steeled herself. A step forward - hoping Waawaashkeshi could notice her if she was needed, or ignore her if her presence was not wanted.