Wheeling Gull Isle wordlessly watching, he waits by the window

There was no doubt, now. She wasn't quite to "lead balloon" status as of yet, but Maegi definitely felt. . .more. Whatever that meant. And with the added fullness also came near-constant nausea, which only the bracing sea air seemed to help.

She spent a lot of time on the beach, looking at pretty shells, watching the gulls over the water, wondering—

What exactly was her use, here?

Maegi had always wanted to be useful. From her childhood, she had latched onto various strengths, branding herself—priestess, healer, mother, leader. . . But none of those really fit, and some were even abject failures. And they weren't tangible. She wasn't a good hunter. She could barely hold her own in a fight. 

So what was the point, anyway? She dug her toes into the wet sand, brows knitted in frustration. What was her point? Because she was about to bring more life into the world, and she was terrified that they would be just as purposeless as she was.