Neverwinter Forest hurting. longing. dancing to disco music.

Lótë remained in silence, mulling over the words given as she allowed them to soak into her skin like the cold shower of a winter rain. Something dark and guilty curled in the three-year's gut, held there with the unspoken words that uncertainty wouldn't allow her to utter. 

"It is...it is because I carried Fjall?" she whispered at last, pale gems of jadeite gleaming and wet as she blinked back a well of emotions. "Because I had a child with someone else?" her cheeks burned hot beneath a cover of rabbitskin agouti, embarrassed to ask for such clarification.