A woman staggered through the forest, clinging to each tree in her path for support. Her long black hair hung in mats, stuck with twigs and leaves. Red scratches covered her exposed arms and face.

She cried out in pain as her womb contracted.
Falling to her knees in pain, she sought a safe place to birth her child.
Her eyes fell on a low cave entrance, wreathed in ivy and moss.

With the last of her ebbing strength, the woman crawled into the cave and birthed her child: a girl with black eyes and hair.

Then the woman died, the life slipping from her as she brought new life forth.

As she looked around, the girl drew her first breath, clean forest air filling her new lungs. But she didn't cry.