Darkness.
Death is in the air. She knows who it is, the one to die.
She herself.
Her belly swollen from hunger, and from another soul destined to die. Muscles aching from every step she takes, the snow biting her through the winter coat. But she must go on, she must.
There. Her destination was before her, with no strength left.
She collapses upon the frozen pond, eyes glazing over, but in their stillness speaking more than words ever could.
Please, give this child a chance that I cannot give it.
I beg of you, Swamp Mother.
I beg of you.
A strange wind is passing through the majestic trees, but the doe can't hear it.
She can't do anything anymore.
And she can't help the wind in moving something inside her body, struggling to get it out, and finally succeeding.
The Swamp Mother heard her child's plea, and She wanted to let her daughter know it.
The last thing the mother ever saw was the embodiment of all her love for her child.
A Fragile Sunrise.
This wasn't her, and it wasn't her mother. Maybe it was a long ago ancestor, or maybe a future mother and child, of her kin.
Regardless, that was her own name, a tribute to generations past, and those yet to come.
Her purpose.