Hoshor Plains I have no time for confession

It intrigued Pie, hearing about the significance of an heiress. It must be a cultural thing, she supposed, musing about Pala’s earlier mention of a matriarch. Perhaps women were superior in Montagne de Cigue, though that begged a question: why was the sire ranked above his pregnant mate?

She didn’t ask, instead fielding her new friend’s query with, I think I’d like to name a daughter Sia, after anaa. Other than that, I haven’t thought that far ahead. Sydonie’s a pretty name, though I promise I won’t steal it. She chortled, then finally asked, What’s a Gurrier, by the way?