Sun Mote Copse The end of Troy.

The sorrow seemed to bloom from the center of her chest, creeping upward and outward, pulling her body into its vise-like grip. Everything suddenly felt uncomfortably tight. Towhee tried to breathe through it, which did help loosen the sense of constriction somewhat. It left another and equally unpleasant feeling its wake, a sort of aching hollowness, but with a queer heaviness in the pit of her stomach.

Phox prompted her to continue and Towhee took a few more breaths, surprised at just how much it was affecting her, before blurting it out: "I can't have kids." Even as the words left her mouth, Towhee realized they didn't quite capture what she meant and she explained, "I did a lot of boning last year and nothing ever happened. I didn't think it mattered to me, at first. But somewhere along the line, maybe after Fig and Fen..." It was pouring out of her now. "I want kids. I want them and I can't have them." She'd never admitted that part to anyone outright, including herself, until now. "My parts are all messed up and it's not going to happen and it's really fucking unfair and—" But the rest was lost as Towhee suddenly buried her face in Phox's neck.