Moonspear hopes and dreams, they will collide

LIke he often did, she pulled at threads lain bare; her words made him recoil in all but outward appearances. It was in that outward appearance that he held tight to some level of stoicism, some air of seriousness that would fend off the worst of her probing gaze and take the burn out of baiting, venomous inquiries. He regretted bring the topic to light, suddenly trading in the digging of one hole for another.

"No," she did not know, nor had he told her. Considered it yes, the thought had so very much crossed his mind... but it was a delicate topic to breach and not one that he was particularly keen on. And where words would have swiftly come to him to save him, they rebuked him now to the point where not even a dismissive, feigning bothered shake of his head could not dislodge it.

This was a conversation he no longer desired to partake in.

He sought purchase elsewhere.

"But if we go to the coast in the summer, does that mean you aren't anticipating their siblings?"