Dragoncrest Cliffs might as well ask what makes a star

All welcome! Tags just for reference oof
Setting  Pre-dawn
Time  Dated to 2.24, what is time lmao 
Thread for Botany specialty

The ivory astronomess had begun to tire of the turmoil, tearful and tender besides, which many mothers-to-be soon come to know. Wandering had been tampered by the week’s following childing, and remained so by the days wound up with a cloying cold. So her time was spent like so: reclusive with rest, dreaming of names for children, comforting her cheka, and staving off the visceral visions that were depthless, dark.

But as she came into what she suspected would be her fifth week, Bounkola felt compelled to savor whatever remained of this middling week; whatever it would bring. The vestiges of illness had since become faint, only and through the attentions of Dragostea and the stores of the since-returned opkepa. The herbs which were given to her held the presence of @Rose behind them, and had thus shepherded the pale she-wolf well on her way to recovery. And in this, her gratefulness for both kru was insurmountable.

Regardless, the skayona rose, and began to trace her way deeper into Hougeda’s dim, trailing the scent of salt through this uncharted find. She could have veiled herself in the maternal, dramatic airs which urged her to deviate from bedrest. She would tell anyone who asked that it was the wishes of her womb which drew her to the sea. And perhaps it was true, in some way; her children were both parts stormborn, starborn.

Stormborn. The wisping thought had a soft, faltering breath leave her — at how storm-like her cheka tended to become. It was indisputable. Yet, as she chanced upon a panorama she’d never hoped to find, her piqued heart stuttered as a gloam curved about it once more; the kind she thought she'd been able to leave behind within Hougeda.

Since Antumbra’s passing, @Eastwood and others had taken their leave of the cliffs. Any such tidings of other members hadn’t made themselves known to her; but, as it was, she’d been trying to maintain as an unwavering façade of resolute hope as she could. The news still pierced within her breast, though, as she tread through the water-limned walkway to the little cove below. Not hers, but... it would do.