Hoshor Plains tinnun ⊹

Meylodi was unsure of what to say.

She'd said her piece. 

And now she waited, but the idea of an herb to stop the onset of fire-time was intriguing, and she'd have to remember it to teach to her own daughter, and of any child she was carrying. After all - Raen was a pawful, but so was Meylodi at her age. The mother couldn't keep her daughter from experiencing men, but she could teach her what to look for and what would make a suitable husband. 


The mountain woman felt odd in the conversation and thus she kept her silence - and felt like she stank of the man she'd go back to once they were done here. To her half-grown wolflings.

To the only family she had.