Firefly Glen yomblod

They fought for so long that seeing Heda like this brought a wellspring forth in Anselm. Of confusion. Anger. Frustration. And finally, could that last estranged emotion be sympathy?

Why was she like this? Lying down like she prepared for her cask. Anselm jolted to hear her echo the very same words as Ezra; words he would not wish, for it meant he would be pulling his sons from their mother.

Take them vith me? Anselm repeated, marveling how he'd been offered the very thing he felt he deserved, and somehow it was utterly untenable to him.

Again, on behalf of his sons. Anselm knew there was an uglier emotion under there directing part of his motives.

Amadeo. Your -- He almost said lover. Refrain was all he had now, other than a sorry sense of bitterness. Could she feel it?

Vhy? Are they not good enough for you? Or is Amadeo forcing you to do this, so you can have his sons instead? Out before he could help it -- and far more cruelly coded than she deserved.