Lost Creek Hollow we'll be counting stars

"motherhood does not suit me either, hombre de la sombra." a tint of bitterness, something she had not meant to let escape but now did. akavir reminded her somehow that she was wanted. she thought back against her very will to the night she had come first to crowfeather, the day germanicus had come, and the eve she had clung to her prince again only to experience his silent rejection. since then she felt displaced in her own flesh, first by the delivery and now by the nourishment. silvertongue held the feeling of the swiftcurrent man's eyes upon her and finally looked into his handsome, tired face. "there is only so much you can do when they need so much from a mother, akavir. it is all right to rest, and rest more."