Appearing in Orenda’s bedroom with Ayawamat, I lay her on the bed with cautious movements, listening for the faintest sound of pain or distress, but still she remains silent. Now that I have an unobstructed view of her face I see the swollen bruise forming on her right cheek. My mind races, painting vivid and nightmarish pictures of what Orenda endured for the past month to have caused her to be in the state she’s in now. I step back and let Ayawamat tend to her but continue to allow the energy of my essram to radiate around me. I can’t tell if it’s helping Orenda, but I know it’s at least helping the baby. There was a sense of desperation coming from it that has now subsided somewhat. It wasn’t like a thought or an emotion but more of a primal survival instinct.
I watch, feeling helpless
