Broken Antler Fen You're just like an angel

As they walked, the territory seemed only to expand more beyond them. Every few paces there appeared something new that she hadn't noticed before, like the tree well beyond their reach that looked like it might want to eat them. Toad focused on Wraen as she returned with more solid information.

Toad didn't think that a husband was the same as a very good friend. Perhaps it was because she had rarely, if ever, had a very good friend. She knew what she had learned from tall tales and those speaking of loved ones. She knew the mothering nature she felt toward children was quite different than what she felt toward "regular" friends, and she imagined love toward a man might be the same way. It was a mysterious Pandora's box that she wasn't really sure what to do with. Wraen seemed to have a great idea on what it all meant, all this talk of standards and being able to live with someone, and how friends were a "tad" different. Toad didn't understand how they were different, and yet did at the same time.

Gut feelings. Toad had never felt a strong gut reaction toward anyone. Part of her felt... jealous was not the right word. Perhaps, merely wanting. She wanted some of the experience that Wraen had so that she might have a better compass. Where Wraen seemed to have one that wavered occasionally with too much vibration, Toad had a toothpick stuck to a marshmallow.

Then, the question turned on her, and Toad didn't really want to mention it, but was too weak to put up a real front. What.. about, she had to pause for a moment to remember what she was thinking about. Well I mean, you're, you know, pretty, and she was. She was lean and had grey, contrasting patterning to her. There was something very pleasant about the way she moved around and presented herself. Toad, in contrast, was portly and brown and boring and just.. And I'm me, she said, rather matter-of-fact, making a face that squeezed her lips together.