She had hoped in vain her time away from Ichika would clear her head of the fiasco with the child Sarian and her mother, but all the journey did for her was get her cut in the face and impose more pressing feelings upon her. For perhaps the second time, she returned across the borders of her home not at all feeling the warmth of its familiarity. The inevitable snowfall made the welcome that much more frigid even though she knew hardly anyone knew of the shame she had brought upon herself and were thus unable to damn her. These feelings of self-loathing, of embarrassment and mistake were all a distraction to keep her mind of the child she wanted desperately to embrace again. She’d rather deal with her shame than the longing brought on by the child’s absence.
But in due time, she would have to come to terms with this. It was the sole purpose of her self-implored venture and yet she had failed at fulfilling her intentions. She was still burdened by these conflicting emotions and no amount of her own insight was enough to reduce the weight.
From the Wentworth and along the river, the Nomad pondered ways to lift her burden. She was not too proud a female to admit that she needed help through this time. It was always the advice of her Shepard that if she did not understand something and had exhausted all her known resources, she should seek the aid of others. Such advice was more useful now than in any other time.
The only one she could think of with the advice relative to her needs was the pregnant mother Jace. Or rather… the once pregnant female. Last the Nomad recalled, she had given birth and was clearly able to still tend to her duties, even if saving a delirious stranger was not part of it. Perhaps she had some words to ease her troubled mind or share the insight of one now blessed with children. The trouble with the Nomad was that she hadn’t the slightest idea where to begin sifting through these emotions after they had suddenly burst forth from some latent place. The implications of her culture and these new feelings were at war with each other and she needed help in any form she could get.
The quiet bird upon her shoulder was gently nudged awake by a gentle claw to its belly. He ruffled with feathers and spanned his great wings in awakening then turned his head to peer at his master’s patient gaze. She smiled fondly to him. “Will you do something for me, my friend?” The owl hooted softly. “There is a woman of this pack with a dark brown mane and a body of black and white. Could you find and lead me to her, my friend?” She needn’t ask him a second time as she often did during the beginnings of their relationship. Without qualm he took flight from her shoulder and soar into the cloud-filled sky, leveling then surveying the ground below him.