Moonspear we are all in this together,

She whirled and spied him and there was relatively little to keep her from him. At this point he doesn't anticipate being met by her teeth; though those moments do come, they are far and few between as they had been. A year prior would have easily still had her testing his mettle, but somewhere along the way there had grown less reaction—her barbs instead came in the way of words and hastened nips, the way he preferred.

A smirk sprawled out across his features; Dirge is open in his appraisal of her, willingly lecherous as much as it is to pry into her well being. The apprehension that had settled in him last year is replaced by anticipation instead, the concerns of late secondary to the would-be fruits of their union. For as satisfactory as it was for him to burden her, he believed that he certainly made up for it by bending to her every whim. Her fishing for complements would not go unheeded either.

"Is that a hush note of anguish I hear over your body betraying you?" A rhetorical inquiry at best; he could not avoid heaving a barb back in her direction for all its good nature and worth. "You really needn't worry; I only wanted your attention because I was tiring of trying to keep up with you. Perhaps I should try harder next year to slow you, lest your restlessness of late do us both in." His smirk turned to jesting sneer, a licentious thing scrawled upon him as much as the telegraphed preparation to spurn a willing flash of her teeth that he expects.

Regardless, his mouth ran, this time of a proper husband.

"I'll have you know that it is exceptionally difficult to adorn you with flattery when you keep relocating. Worry is not becoming of you," and he had not let it go unnoticed. He could conjure up the reasons why and then some, only to discover that he wished it not to burden them any longer. His gaze wandered her once again, idling over the swell of her and finding a handle on anticipation yet again.

It's a dichotomy of wants and desires for him at present; if not for the way her sisters likely lurked like shadows, he would have had half a mind to distract her similar to his persistence that had put her in her condition in the first place. Yet he knows better, doesn't fancy teeth to his hide over the harassment, and the doubt that she would entertain him this late is enough of a damper.

"Though admittedly, you are most beautiful even now. Quite irresistible, really," he concluded, yet not finished; he wonders instead, gently; "It won't be long, will it?"