Moonspear Me dice la luna que tienes un sueño

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Imprisoned, banished, into a nexus of my own design...
Now Time mocks me, and my sentence is Gravity.

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It was almost pathetic to hear her own voice cry these things, but as she had dwelled with the mortals long enough to grow accustomed to their ways trickling into her. So long as their selfish traditions did not infect her, too. 

“But it is, and as of now, I am not safe- neither are my Creations. If I am to go, it must be before the birth.” Otherwise, there would truly be no joy...

As with every blessing came a curse.

A breeze came to whimper close to the Mothering woman, somber and woeful to the Goddess, but she would not be tethered where she did not wish to be. Her ways may have been backwards, but all practices only progressed her further. This childbearing was no different.

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But every sky will build my throne.

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