Broken Antler Fen I hear the wicked get no rest.

The sound of an approach stilled Ibis' movement, and as she looked over at the shape, she saw her daughter. Not the red-brown of Arielle that had begun to shift in her memory to something amorphous, but the silver-clad feminine figure of Lilitu, flourishing despite everything.

She would rival her father in size one day, the mother thought, if only he would be here to see it...

As if reading her mind, Lilitu offered up a single question as she settled beside her. D'you think they'll come back? It was uncommon of late for Lilitu to seek Ibis' presence, so Ibis was cautious to answer, afraid she might say the wrong thing and lose this much needed closeness.

Yes, they must. Ibis answered. She wanted to be more definitive. She wanted to have the courage of her convictions for the sake of her daughter, but at the same time Ibis had lost others before this — who she rarely spoke about when the family had been whole — and it pained her, knowing how often the lost stayed that way.

She draws a shaky breath and finds comfort in the sweet, light scent of Lilitu's fur. In an effort to distract herself she begins to groom at a part of Lilitu's coat but her heart is not in it, and it does not last.

Have I ever told you about my big brother? She knew she had not, and waited for Lilitu to react to this shift in the conversation.