[Kath]

It had shocked Astilwen to learn that the woman in front of her didn't even remember her own name she had been running from her past for so long. The death of a loved one was thankfully something she had never had to endure, but she had been around those who had, and knew the pain and grief that went with it.

It seemed though that this snake had destroyed not only the life of one sister, but also of Tilionwen herself, and very likely that of her father as well. For years the poor man must have thought that both of his daughters were dead. She wondered whether the woman had thought about it like that, which was better - to believe both daughters were dead or to know one was alive? Still, it was not her place to say anything.

She understood now why Tilionwen had been staring so intently at the Moon, and why she was so sad. She had suffered so much, and Astilwen couldn't yet work out whether she blamed herself for her sister's death, or whether she believed some other force had sent the rain that forced them to stay outside, and the snake that had delivered the deadly blow.

Gently smiling back at Tilionwen's comment Astliwen noted the sudden silence that had fallen, and realised the woman was giving her a chance to ask any questions she might still have. She didn't want to interfere, and she really didn't want to offend, but she had to ask.

"Don't you think your father would wish to know you're alive? He's lost so much already, knowing you were alive might help him. And . . . you do know that you're not to blame, don't you?"