Sheepeater Cliff [m] eighty-eighth

Sorry for the text wall!

"Really?"

And was there a time when he had? "Hopes. His has.. Changed?" Hopes could change in that way? It bewildered her and opened a door of many, many questions.

The gentle surprise that the woman held was hidden away by a stiffened ear. What other things were hoped for? What did priest life hold? What was an engraved yes and no? Could he hold no hopes, and no wants? The yaret held her tongue before she bombarded the priest with a million questions he'd struggle to keep up with, but they danced in her head. As in, the yaret tried to spare Senmut  hours of answering her. That same head had suddenly fallen into a tilt.

Do you?

Quiet, the mink tried to imagine then what that looked like. One, what answering a question of herself looked like, and how children would look like molded into her life. And what was her life? She didn't know if she'd be a good mother. What was a good mother? Was every woman with children a mother? What made a mother beyond birth? Legend didn't know if she knew how to do that.

"I don't.. Know." Blink.

Shifting to be more comfortable into the priest, both arms stretched and then fell back. Head, burying away into red fur. Senmut would have to watch her puzzle it out, and oh, the pieces were hard to click. Calm, still. Did she? "Don't know," both eyes squinted, and a realization was at the tip of the tongue before it was spoken, "how I am supposed..act. With children." There'd been no chance to learn before.