Sleepy Fox Hollow Sun setting on the brink

That Fiona had made a specific concoction to treat her season went straight over Anselm’s head. He was flummoxed for her rejection reason; did she really think water could stay the tides of nature? Ve have streams in Rivenvood. Anselm countered, flabbergasted she would think he’d settle somewhere without water.

Women! So dumb.

Did she think catching child was like catching a cold? Anselm’s incredulous gaze slid from her to the Lunchable at her feet. Vhat? It is not like that. He tried to scoff but his throat was dry. You von’t be pregnant unless you —

Did he really have to explain this to her?

Fuck some-vonne.