Taweret shook her head solemnly. “Can't look inside the womb and see where she's bleeding from to fix it. Hoping that compress I tucked inside helps but...” she shrugged and looked back over her shoulder at the mother who was breathing deeply, attempting to rest. “I'm not a miracle worker. Even my skills have limits.”
With a rag she dampened in a bit of water, she wiped parts of the infant cleaner than the other midwife had. “I would prefer both to live. But, if my option is that only one can be saved, I will focus on the one with the better chance for survival. She is wounded in some fashion I cannot see to mend properly and has lived a good life. When she passes through the gates of the Underworld to be judged... she will have had deeds in her life to be weighed against the feather of Ma'at.” She set the rag aside and started wrapping the small infant tightly to give comfort.
“This young one,” Taweret smiled and brought the baby up to hold before her, “just look at him. He is strong and his life has just begun.” Her gaze turned to the stranger. “That is the way of mortals. They are borne and... in time they die. I prefer there is more time in between those phases, but it is an inevitability.”