Wheeling Gull Isle kongeda

He wondered if Heda might suggest they simply move to a grassier location but no, she agreed. Caracal grinned at her, then puckered his lips to plant a kiss on her jaw before motioning for her to open wide.

It felt utterly ridiculous and probably looked it too. Caracal had to bite back a laugh when he pictured it, lest he choke. He focused on transferring the necessary meds into his wife’s mouth—partially broken down by his saliva by now—and then stepped back to let her chew and swallow as needed. There was only the briefest slide of their tongues together, which he actually barely registered.

It only just now occurred to me that you might’ve thrown up right into my mouth while we were doing that, Caracal quipped a bit asininely, then nudged her cheek and said, I forget the name of this plant but it’s an antiemetic, so it should help with the nausea and vomiting.

Taking a step back, he glanced over and noticed her kelp net. She was fishing, which meant she was hungry or at least eating. That was good. Heda was quite possibly eating for two, three or even more! The thought made Caracal’s belly squiggle, a mix of excitement and nerves.

Been thinkin’ about what I’d want them to call me, Caracal announced. And that made me wonder, what do you think you’d like to be called? Mother? Mom? Mama? His eyes softened a little on the last. Mommy?