Moonspear 'cause they got powers and stuff

Kinda, she giggled. Approval was implied in Hydra's continuation of the conversation. Ying listened to each title the Moonspearian woman gave herself and nodded with deep understanding. Family meant more than blood; it helped to know that her companion felt the same. Settling into a seat, she listened to Hydra begin to speak about her closest relatives, those she had grown in her own womb.

She shifted uncomfortably. These were things that Ying hadn't seriously considered since her time with Aningan. He'd betrayed her, and at a time wherein she'd least expected it. Believing that all men were born with innate malintent, pretending that she was unaffected, it was easier than confronting her own hurt. She looked up at Hydra and smiled, but her gaze soon trailed back down toward the ground. 

I do not have these things, Ying explained, I maybe am not ready, because no one will give them to me. She wondered if there was something wrong with her, and if that was the reason men would not commit. She feared that she might be tainted, carrying the smell of trauma too pungent to ignore. Dwelling on these thoughts in front of company was inappropriate; Ying locked them neatly away for later.

She was interested in Hydra's interpretation of motherhood. How many were there, and how old? Ying wanted to ask these things but withheld, settling with: What is this like, to have kids? I think it is probably hard. She couldn't imagine being responsible for something so small, so helpless; a protector, but not yet a mother.