Marielle sat up, groaning slightly, so that she could bring the baby - a girl - to her breast. Danyel sat nearby, seemingly uncertain what he could do in this situation. "Is everything all right?" he asked, worried.
"Perfect," Marielle told him absently, all her attention focused on the tiny creature in her arms.
Mother Alma hesitated to intrude on the scene, but it was her job to bless the newborn child, and at such an uncertain time, it seemed wiser to do it soon. She materialized, looking down at the humans gathered in the dank little shelter.
"Mother," Marielle whispered respectfully. Danyel bowed his head.
"The child is healthy," she told them, looking at it with eyes that could perceive the faint tendrils of death curling around every living thing. "Have you a name for her?"
Marielle nodded. "I thought perhaps Adela," she said, almost shyly, waiting for Alma's approval.
Alma nodded. "Very good." She spoke the necessary words over the child, who did not flinch from the touch of a cold finger on her brow.