Dragoncrest Cliffs & Lord, ye gave me a rare woman, (mtr.)

Eyes creasing, she gave a meager nod, her own lips thinning to mirror the uncertainty drawn upon his own. ”It,” faltering, ”It is like... a dull ache, sometimes. But it is—it is as if I have butterflies in my belly. Not unpleasant, and I am not entirely unused to it,” closed her eyes against another tumbling; another meek flush. ”It is only... different. Surreal, to think I have true life growing within me.”

Expecting mothers were meant to beckon the fathers over, to feel how the womb fluttered. That was what had always been an archaic tradition, right? But — should she? The last time they’d lain together (well, not in the way she longed to, unfortunately), she’d kissed him all over and had, unintentionally, ushered him from her arms. Did she deserve to hold him again? Did he even want to?

Her pale jaw wound shut once more, letting her gaze rest on Verx’s shadow. Without saying a word, she carefully draped herself at the water’s edge, and waited. Lacing herself on her side, she subtly curved her belly to him, tail curling a bit anxiously at her hocks. From their bairns in her belly, and the oversensitivity it brought; how faintly she quivered.

The whole time, Aure kept her eyes averted; letting him come to her, if he wished. (She wasn’t one fit for commandeering, anyway.)