Isabelle was in grave, emotional pain. Her heart throbbed sadly, sometimes angrily, and her throat was choked, as she thought about what happened. It was her fault – she should just have left Farouche and Tortue adopt her, even though they had never told her any intention of doing so before the Ceremony. It had surprised her so much; she did not know what to say. But, or course, she found words enough to tell everyone, “No,” and that she, of all things, had been Clan. But upon thinking harder, Isabelle was thankful she said ‘no.’ Her gut decision was right, even though now she was not to become Mamutoi – probably ever.

Deep inside her, she feared that if she had agreed to Farouche’s wishes, she would find herself protected by Farouche, and being looked after like a child. It was not that she did not want the attention, but instead did not want to believe that there could be someone else, another adoptive mother, or real mother, that would eventually take Lida’s place in her heart.

She would never leave, Lida would always stay in her heart, but after Isabelle knew she had died, it wasn’t the same. She struggled to remember things, to draw upon the memories with Lida, but they kept slipping away, and it disconcerted her. To forget about Lida, or even think about replacing her, made Isabelle’s heart bend and twist out of shape. She would rather die than forget Lida.

Isabelle was sitting under a tree. She was very tired, for she had spent most all of the day traveling, and it was noontime; time to rest. Her mouth was dry and her stomach rumbled – she didn’t know what to do about food.

She had some dry meat she took, but it wasn’t very much. How would she support herself?

Isabelle heaved herself up, and decided that she should keep moving. She wanted to get back to her valley, and have the baby there. She also didn’t want anyone to catch up with her, if they even bothered to come after her.

And no one did.

She followed the river, and doing so, it took her about two weeks to reach the valley. She was slow and had to stop and rest often. Her hunger also had gotten the better of her, and she would stop wherever there were fruits or berries in order to pick them.

When she reached the stairs leading up to her cave, she took a deep breath and started walking up the steps. It was steeper than she remembered, but then what had it been? One and a half, two and a half months since she had been up the steps? It meant she was at least seven and a half – probably eight – months pregnant.

And yet it had felt like years ago when she said goodbye. Isabelle reached her cave, pulled aside the hide concealing the entrance, and looked around.

It was just how she remembered it. Nothing had been touched, nothing had changed in her absence, but nevertheless it was different. It seemed... empty.

She began unpacking and laying her furs on the ground, setting her clothes outside to air, and taking out her herbs. After she was done, she took out the last of the supply of meat and berries she survived on and prepared a meal. It was evening, and Isabelle was tired – she would be in bed in only a little while.

She would live like she had for about two years, alone and attempting to fend for herself, even though it was difficult. Of course, it was difficult to survive when she was younger and didn’t know her way around, but it still was hard... her baby was due soon. She felt so stupid when she realized that it would be almost impossible to live alone.

»

Why had she cut her hair? Why? Why did she let Farouche cut it? Isabelle was sobbing, rubbing her eyes while running her fingers through it. No, no, no, she wanted her hair back! It was the same length, the same hair that Lida had seen, had touched, had combed, but now it was gone!

Isabelle was blind with tears, and rage, and sadness. It was hair, only hair... But Lida had wanted her to keep it long, and now she hated herself for it. Oh, how she missed Lida! More than anything in the world, she wanted Lida to hold her, and let her cry, and then tell her everything would be all right. Isabelle needed Lida to deliver this baby. How would she ever deliver a baby alone? It’s difficult enough to deliver one with someone to help you...

Isabelle rocked and sobbed, squeezing a blanket to her. It was the one Lida had a long time ago, which she refused to sacrifice for Isabelle’s shoes. It meant a lot to Isabelle. She didn’t have very many things of Lida’s left.

It took her a long time, but she finally managed to stop crying and feel a little better. Hunger had taken up a lot of her thoughts, now, so she set to making dinner. She got water, mushrooms, bits of meat, carrots, and other vegetables, cutting them up and putting them into a stew. It cooked in the flames as Isabelle sat, thinking. It had been over two weeks since she had come back, and she was heavily pregnant, at least eight and a half moon cycles in. It was early summer, and she could give birth any day now to a big, healthy baby. Well, maybe not big, but certainly healthy. Randir gave birth at around this time in her pregnancy. Isabelle pulled her dinner off the fire and became nervous. Was she ready to do this? She wished she had Charlie back, the old Charlie, to comfort her...