Hoshor Plains world burn

"Ariadne? Wife, what is it?" Kigipigak asked, crouching and crooning to reach Ariadne through her sobbing.

The women's circle was awful, uiga. I was met with many judgemental stares, and nobody sat near me. Which was an exaggeration on her part. She'd chosen to sit alone. Then a subordinate of ours remarked about our lovemaking in front of the group—I didn't even recognize her, but she carried our scent. She talked through her tears, occasionally pausing to wipe her eyes or nose. Nobody jumped to my defense, not at least what she had seen before quickly fleeing the scene.

I-I can't do this anymore—they think we're savages. I-I won't have our children raised under such scrutiny.