[cw- Infant Loss]

Iris was tired as she came to a stop at the crossroads, trying to remember which way she was going. Carrying nothing but a carpetbag, the widow made her way down the next road until the farm in question came in sight. Her black gown, one of the only ones that she could fit into anyway, hung slightly too tight on her form, for she had only just given birth days ago. Luckily enough, the walk had not been a long one as she had hitched a ride on the back of a hay wagon as far as a half of a mile away.

She approached the door and gave a rap, then stepped back and looked off to the side some. Her face was pale and drawn, she obviously hadn't much time to recover from the difficult birth that brought her daughter briefly into the world, but if she were to survive... well... she had to do something. Giving her milk to a baby so another life wouldn't be lost was meaningful enough to her that she would be alright doing it. But she would not let herself become attached to the little one, she wouldn't be able to bear the heartbreak of the loss of a baby again.

As the door opened, she shifted mournful eyes toward the person emerging from the house.