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Her
The middle aged woman slowly walked around the small cottage, a small pack of herbs in her hands. She turned occasionally, then slowly settled in front of a small fireplace. The pot above it was brewing hot, and she opened the cover, then sniffed it. Slowly, she scooped it into a earthen bowl, then slowly walked across the cottage to a small bed. On it lay a woman. Her eyes were closed, beads of perspiration on her forehead, her chest slightly heaving, rising and falling with slow rhythms, her fingers the only thing moving. "Are you awake, dear?" The woman asked, pulling a stool to sit on right next to the bed. There was no response for the longest time, before she slowly opened her eyes, the dark brown eyes slowly unravelling behind the closed lids. She turned around slowly, her eyes
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