Bearclaw Valley when the sunlight is arising

averna was by her altar -- could she scry from her stones and blood-rituals astara's hopeless thoughts?

she glanced behind her once to confirm her ghost followed -- good.

astara lead averna back to her den, where astyanax and glaucos slept.

for a long moment astara peered into that gathering darkness, listening to the rise and fall of their soft breaths --

but they were not hers, they would never be hers, and her children despised her with every day she kept them by her breast.

no longer; she may have killed their mother, but she owed the harlot's brood nothing.

astara pulled from her thoughts and stared openly into averna's silver gaze. take them. she thought forcefully into the void, feeling fringes of darkness torrent out between her thoughts. take them -- do what you must -- but take them from me.