Into the Fog was giddy. Or dopey, depending on one's point of view. With the swell of her belly one hoped she wasn't high but really who knew. She was like a shade, breathy giggles puffing into the cooling autumn air, before disappearing into the thicker wooden areas where she was nothing but an echoing voice. Which made it rather impossible for conversation.
Not that Giveforward needed it. Not with this one. She was beyond happy, that much was obvious. And so the songbird swooped down, weaving beneath fall colored leaves and thick branches, to drop a mess of feathers. The acha seemed to almost trill as she took the feathers into her mouth to add to the nesting spot where she would lay her eggs, and potentially sacs.And as the songbird followed, she blessed the expectant mother, "Your children shall know joy and love. They shall belong to the forests and seafoam as children born of adventure often do. Fearless and valiant, they shall be heroes." Which even to her felt peculiar but she could tell that was what the doe would want. She was a shade; her children would not be.
