"That's what all those children's clothes are about?" Dawn sat on Baba Yaga's lap. To regenerate Acala's body would take a lot of energy and she was too weak for that. Dawn made sure to preserve just enough of his tissues to not let her host die.
"Of course, dear." Baba Yaga smiled at the feeling of her daughter's warmth spreading through her womb. She now looked like a beautiful woman in her forties, with flaming red hair and emerald green eyes.
Her voice was calm and wise, her body had the reassuring aura typical of good mothers.
It was the incarnation of those who had reached half of their lifespan. She had as much past as future. The form of Dusk.
"Children are our future and the best material to work with." She tilted her head, pointing at the huge boiling cauldron on the fireplace, filled to the brim with meat paste and blood.
