Blood sweat and tears

Maea Big dreamers shoot for open skies "Flowerbirthis a good time for babies, or so the old women use to say." Good for the babies, at least. Maea had been born in Deepfrost and only survived because of her father's stubbornness that saw him pestering the healers until they tried every remedy they had and dug deep into the stores of herbs. Yet even then it had been a close thing, and she had been persistently ill every Long Night for years. Still was at times, though it had been a while since she'd been confined to the bed. She hoped Vai's baby would fare better by far. Maea bit her lip, knowing it was not her place to comment on such things. She was a farmgirl, not a warrior or scholar, and yet... "I wish they would have waited" she said. "So much has been unearthed in so little time, and so much have changed since the first large group of you appeared. Maybe if they'd waited, if they had taken the time to understand it all properly..." Maybe nothing would have changed, and maybe everything would have. Maybe the man would still be alive... But now it was too late, and Maea had said too much. Nodding her assent to the examination, the girl removed a layer of clothing until she sat with only a thin linen chemise to cover herself. The fabric was impeccably clean, and stark white against thin shoulders that had been splashed in a spectacular array of colors. Most of the bruises had already faded to a sickly yellow, but just beneath the shoulders along the spine, the deep purple could be seen even through the fabric. "It's a bit hard... I couldn't carry water for a proper bath, or reach the back with a cloth..." And there was no one around she would trust to undress for. Peter was nice enough but be was a man, and... and Maea was not comfortable with letting him become anything more than a farmhand.