Ceridwen leaned against the foot board, tucking her legs under herself. "I was never starved, no, but there was a time, after I landed here and before paganism discovered me, when I felt...I felt like I might die any day. I was nothing, I was no one, a few stories in old books that hardly anyone read. And I fought it at first, I looked for anything I could do, some...some spell or ritual that might tie me to this life, because I didn't want to give it up. But time wore on, and I started to accept what I thought might be my fate. After all, all things have their time, and a thousand years is a longer span than most people can even conceive of to live. And then the pagans happened, and it felt like slowly I had to re-learn how to live. I'd been living down in a bayou in Louisiana, the local madwoman that children were warned to stay away from. And I was horribly weak. Walking was difficult, caring for myself was a feat. I barely spoke, and when I did, my voice was scratchy and faint. And I thought, what sort of life is this? This is existence, this isn't what I want. Leave me alone, forget about me, let me go."
She sighed, looking down as she fell silent. "But that feeling didn't last forever. Life came back to me, by inches, by days, and finally I could walk, run, even go into town and speak with people. It took time, and effort, and in the end, like you, I wasn't upset anymore that I had been found again. I started to embrace life, and by the time I was fully myself again, that was when I met Richard, and a few years later, Jesse was born. So you're right. It's horrible, like dragging yourself over broken glass to get through the day. But it will get better, and I will do anything I can to help."