"Far away I feel your pains —those hands, struggling night and day; Dipped in the icy cold and shivering through the snow. I pray, I beg thee, that my care would be your warmth."
.
Two days had passed since Belladonna's disappearance and the people hadn't rest a single moment, with Headstone being the center to judge upon.
Each hour of discussions regarding the next step to be taken, passed by, and the Night slowly descended upon Maeve who huddled on a log, the crackling fireplace behind the tent gave her the only solace. The winter night chilled her to the bone, but the heat was what she craved most now.
She wrapped her hands around a bowl of steaming mushroom soup, Rosemary's cooking had given her another measure of comfort.
