Whitefish River le sigh

Spica could not nod in agreement with everything that sister said. She stared at the water pass by and shuffled so that her hairs touched Syrma's, the physical confirmation that her mirror image was nearby soothing. It was almost like spitballing thoughts in her own head when she was spitballing thoughts with Syrma. Everything just made sense. Maybe their mother did think that they'd think nothing of it, but like, if she thought they would agree anyway, then why wouldn't she just ask anyway because it would take literally five seconds??

No, Spica thought that their mother had known that they wouldn't agree and that was why she just up and got pregnant first. I bet she knew, she said glumly, frowning into the water. I bet she knew that we wouldn't agree, why else not just ask us? But yah, sometimes it's like everyone just assumes we'll be okay with everything. I mean we're not little children anymore, and if she wants us to be part of this family she has to stop acting like we don't have a say in anything!

She let the thought settle in that everything was about dumb puppies lately. The thought swirled around in her mind for a bit until she had a thought. It was an impulsive thought, as she more often had, and she said, her voice suddenly calm though riddled with hidden excitement: We should make a pact. We should make a pact that we'll never have puppies. Impulsive, perhaps, but Spica longed for the life the children had lived with their mother before Emrik came along and before they decided to have replacement-puppies. Syrma was right — puppies were dumb and ruined everything, so why would they ever want them?