The nurse scrubs her hands in the dirt and mumbles something beneath her colorful rag of cloth, now stained a motley red. She hands the woman a child with many arms and legs -- four of each. As the woman sees this, her eyes swell up in tears, for a blessing of a child has been bestowed upon her! A descendant of the one god himself has chosen to be delivered from her womb. She is happy, as is the village, for now, this god will bestow upon them gifts and answer their prayers. There could be no luckier time; the dried up roots will flourish, allowing the wild game to come back, defeating the drought, defeating the hunger, defeating the sadness! Yes, there could’ve been no luckier time indeed, no luckier time indeed… EDIT:
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