Aodaun stirred restlessly as the mists crept in, though the whispers did not follow it after her display of protective anger. Heat prickled uncomfortably at her skin, a faint but slowly, daily growing reminder of her own gender. It infuriated her more than anything else, as she wasn't one to care for the lust-ridden time of heat that gave way to so many children out of mated pairs. Was it bitterness that kept her from indulging in the feeling of such a natural process? That she could not have given it to Ithrim? Even if it was not to be intense for a few more days at least, Lakota dreaded it already. So instead she focused upon the whimpering of her babe, the only one she could care after like a mother. Even the silver light of the moon could not permeate the thick fogs that clung to her every curve. When her child whimpered she shifted her hips in a more exaggerated manner, in a way that was almost enticing had it been in any other situation. It was meant to rock and sway him, lull him into rest with a comforting motion. Comfort it did, for his whimpers and snuffles of agitation soon quieted. However it wasn't long until the mud sucking her legs down towards the earth prevented her from doing it in the same manner as it had started. Trying her hardest to keep up the soothing rhythm, she cast a quick gaze around before feeling heat flush her face. Softly she started to hum, little lullabies that Alleo used to sing to her when she was small and easily frightened. Back when her violet eyes had been just as large but filled with tears and misunderstandings, wondering what she had done wrong.

If you later asked her what songs she sang, which words fell slowly from her lips, she couldn't tell you. So many songs, so many memories that she could choose from, and all centered around that large comforting presence with the dark forest eyes. Every noise of discomfort faded away, and yet her voice wasn't the only one that echoed in the fog. Abruptly her own voice came to an end as another sang out, though not in melody as hers had. Feeling suddenly embarrassed over the fact that he- for it was a masculine voice that called out to her- could have heard her singing something so precious. Again he cried out, voice stronger than the first word he had uttered, and the lass turned towards the sound. Though she couldn't see him, she moved towards his voice regardless. "My name is Lakota," she called out in return, and the calm regal tone surprised even her. Had something so simple as an old song from the past given her this much comfort and familiarity with herself? Black legs, turned brown by muck, kept moving in the direction she believed he was. "What is your name?" she queried in return, wishing she could see him but knowing the glowing mists would only open to reveal him when it so desired. The Marsh was an awfully funny place.