Nova Peak Wähkär

“It’s hard to imagine one… much less ten.”
Ayovi, hikes her smile. She was not ashamed of her naivety, she only wished she had spent more time learning from gravid mothers when she was a yearling in Ashēer. The girl had been enchanted with the hunt and though she also dreamed of marriage, she had not long pondered the complexities of pregnancy. But Ayovi understood there may be complications. Even if all survived, would she be able to nurse them? Would they make it through the challenge of spring, when the bears awaken and competition for prey turns lethal?
Useless, she knows, to worry over that beyond her control. So she drops her chin instead, eyeing the still-strange roundness that now defines her shape.
“I hope they look like him, however many. Healthy, happy, rowdy red-haired vikings, every single one,” she laughs.
Elowen’s eyes are as unclouded as a doe’s, a sweet affection touching her face. It is easy to befriend her. Ayovi gazes back in sterling attention.
“What about you? Do you have an ideal number?”