Mira was waiting by the dwelling when Faelyn came back.
She took one look at her and held out her hand.
Faelyn gave her wrist. She'd stopped arguing about it two weeks ago.
Mira pressed her fingers against the pulse point, counted, and said nothing for a moment. Then she looked up.
"Child." The word landed the way it always did from Mira, not soft exactly, but certain. "You left something of yourself at that waterfall."
"I'm fine."
"You are not fine. Your pulse is fast and your hands have not stopped trembling." She released her wrist. "The ability pulls from your divine energy. Your young ones pull from what is left. You are asking your body to do three things at once and feeding it nothing."
"I'll eat at the evening meal."
