Moonspear hear me, hear me brother

“Are you happy?”
 
The question hung in the air after she had offered her explanation to him. It was an honorable life that she led – bound by her duty and her physical strength. Why was it that it seemed such a simple thing? The inkwell knew that if he allowed himself to venture on the thought and to try to comprehend the extent of that simplistic lifestyle, he was quickly overcome by the wave of anxious unknowns. Atlas was still young, and he had not yet learned enough about the life he was intended to live.
 
Still, he wanted to know if the woman was happy with her life.
 
It was one thing to find peace in the work that was provided. It was another entirely to find true fulfillment in the act of offering one’s body to their pack. Was Desdemona really so content that she would simply continue living and fighting with no intention of growing beyond that? Was it too much to ask that of her?