Some days are worse than others.

Today started with kicks, but then, that pain suddenly faded away with much worse, waves of pain. Contractions. It is then that Ilma knows to find a safe spot just away from the small her that is by the lake, instead finding a close-knit bush that serves her purpose.

To be honest, she has feared the occasion. But it looks like instinct kicks in harder than all other thoughts, and when the contractions increase and the white female lays doen, she simply pushes with the waves that her belly makes, and washes her little one when she is born.

A girl lies there; black as night, a contrast to the stark white of Ilma, and with feathered wings; but when she opens her eyes, her mother’s eyes are mirrored there. She has a single marking; a small star on her forehead.

It is as simple as that.

Some days are more wondrous than others, after all.

”Welcome, Tähti.” Ilma names her daughter, and washes her face and body.