Moonspear sturmfahrt

She had come here knowing his patience was thin, and that his need was great enough to keep driving for this point. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his hackles rise and angled him a cautionary look. Now she was more guarded with her words as she considered them carefully; he was going to be that short about it, then, so she would go ahead and give this wasp nest a little jostle back. I do believe I did, she said, her nose lifting but not raising a hair of her own. It was in more words than he wanted, true, but hadn't that been clear enough? That was her answer. Or are you not hearing any answer besides yes and only yes? It was his eyesight that suffered after his last fight, not his ears as well, right?

Knowing very well she wouldn't have long to get a word in after that, she shifted her stance and stared him back down more openly now. She was annoyed he would try to separate her from logic, and didn't take the time to scowl about that properly since she had to cut him off before he could snap back. But, listen: I do. Given the chance, I would have more, and you would know first, she said, firm, and hoping this was making it simple enough for him with a short sigh. That had always been how it was to her and she was peeved over needing to justify it now like this, and his bad attitude wasn't appreciated either. Granted, she understood his impatience to some degree, but the fact of how soon she put more children on the ground was not her only, singular focus.