Hecate had found herself in the dark without a map. The inside of Qebhet's head was an unfamiliar landscape, her quiddity raucous, ungentle. If Qebhet hadn't woken quickly...
Well, Hecate didn't need to concern herself with ifs, simply with what was. Although, what was was not simple at all. Qebhet had woken, but her injury was vicious and tainted, her body itself chaotic and monstrous.
Hecate held out her hands, an offering of gentle assistance. "Qebhet," she spoke, in case the goddess was losing herself. She seemed in danger of losing herself. "Qebhet. Can you hear me?"