"Hot water!" River yelled down the hall.

The mole had scurried away and Freya was doing her best wall flower impression.

"I'm druid river, and your husband tells me that you're very pregnant. Were you planning on delivering this one alone?"

The mole on the bed sighed. Her countenance was white and flushed.

"He didn't need to know, I can handle this myself," she replied.

"Let's start again. What is your name?"

"Layla."

Layla struggled to hold back a groan. The facade collapsed and Freya just saw a scared mole on the neat bed.

"Well Layla, call me River and this is Freya, she'll be helping us both. I am a druid and I have helped deliver over a dozen children. Freya's grandmother taught me everything I know."

"Oh, thank the Raven."

Freya was suddenly covered in sweat. She wished she had paid attention to any of the lessons that her old gran had passed on. Her paws shook as she took the towels that she was offered.

"We're going to be with you and since it seems like your husband was so off in his assessment of your situation, we may be playing catch here in a moment. Freya, if you would warm up the water. You remember the weave, don't you?"

Freya's mind chose that second to go blank. She retraced the basics that River had explained to her once.

For the longest second, she stood in front of the pail of water she had been presented with. She pulled from her own red mist, turning magic into heat as the pail began to exude steam ever so slightly.

"Is this enough?" Freya gasped.

"That will do. Now, the towels, and keep them coming. Miss Layla, if you would be so kind as to adjust your hips. No need to be shy now, ah yes your child is in the right position. Water, please on a warm towel!"

Freya hurried to match the need.

"Freya while we're waiting, I need you to make a safe space for the newborn to rest. Both the mother and the child need to recover and…push!"

"Arrrgh!" Layla groaned.

River grabbed one leg and nodded at Freya to come closer.

"Grab her leg just like this. Honestly, this can't be your first time?" River said.

Freya obliged, not trying to fight that particular fight. If she ever returned home she would be having a long sit down talk with her old gran. A very long and detailed talk.

"Layla! I'm going to use magic to touch your child. I need to know if they're in distress!"

The moles face was racked with pain and possibly regret. Freya feared for her life as well as the child's life. It would probably be a long night for all four of them, and Freya was already dead on her paws.

"All of your towels!" River yelled as the mole entered the room,"Wait wait, I'm concerned that what you thought you heard was, bring a lot of towels. No. I want all of the towels."

"But miss, the inn…" the moles voice, once strong, was now a thin thready thing.

"The inn can go to the Inujag for all I care. You're taking Laylas life in your hands."

The mole gasped.

"Thanks," Layla said in between heavy breaths.

"It's the least I could do."

River walked around the mole, fussing over every little thing.

She paused at the moles midsection and began to weave something complex in the air. Freya watched, trying to imitate it without using magic. A long cylinder at the top, the weave slowly tapered off by the bottom.

"Your baby lives. It is strong and it needs you to push," River said.

"Ahhhh!" Layla grunted, her face awash with tears.

Her husband returned with towels piled high over his head.

"WATER!" River roared.

"Yes, druid!" He replied, disappearing behind the stack.

Freya stood besides the mole, watching and feeling completely not up to the task.

"Freya!"

The mouse snapped to attention.

"Hold Laylas paw."

"Yes, druid!"

Freya could see the moles paw. In locking paws together, she felt a kinship. Also the mole crushed her hand.

She knew pain for a brief second.

"Ooooooh."

"Freya, her contraction has run its course, what do we say now?"

Freya blanked, trying to find any morsel from her Old Gran

"...stop pushing?"

"Very good. Now miss Layla, when it happens again, when you feel the contractions coming-"

"It's coming now-" Layla groaned.

"Now push!" River said, in her insistent tone, one which brokered no compromise.

Freya grabbed one leg, as River took the other. Following the druid's lead, she moved the leg into position, getting a full view of what was going on.

Freya's already white face turned even further white. She nearly passed out as it was evident that the pair wouldn't need to be there all night. It was even worse when she realized what all of the towels were for.

She went internal, pushing down her own emotions. She couldn't lose it now. It was going to be alright, she kept telling herself that.

The druid and the mouse lost themselves in their work for a time.

Shortly thereafter a mole cried for the first time and his grateful mother got to hold her child .

And the little druid prayed a prayer of thanks to whoever had invented that most important of contemporary processes: the laundry.