Seaside Moors and all my body shakes,

Within the womb, there was naught but darkness. A warm but deep, unyielding darkness. At times she swore she could hear the hushed whispering of those beyond this realm of hers, gentle murmurs; incoherent speech, nothing to be understood or even heard in full. And come the day of her birth, these thoughts would all be forgotten, stolen away and replaced by new, developing senses. Those fantasies of the womb would hardly be anything more than dreams to be dreamt beneath starry skies—until, one day, they would fade entirely from her conscious.

An event to mark her beginning unfolded quicker than she could comprehend, the warmth of creation stripped away and her first sense discovered: touch.

The touch of a soft tongue against her body, working away the sac that encased her.

The touch of the ground against her abdomen, chilled and uncomfortable.

And finally, the touch of a sibling against her side, radiant and squirming—a surprise! And pleasantly so. The child titled Arcelia wriggled her way as close to the mass she would soon know as her sister as she could get, taking comfort in her presence. In doing so, and with the assistance of She Who Gives Life, the child soon found a teat to claim as her own, which she latched onto with ease. Within seconds, she was lulled to sleep by the filling of her stomach and the comfort found in existing.