Moonspear [m] better off (with you)

Kindle’s words made her eyes even blurrier. She couldn’t make out his expression because of her own tears, though she could hear the concern in his voice. He sounded a little lost too, though there was no agitation or disappointment. Treepie probably felt enough for the both of them, anyway.

When he pressed closer, she leaned into him, letting herself find comfort in his touch even as her mind reeled. Her worst nightmare was unfolding. Not only were they not sexually compatible—grounds, she knew, to part ways—but this almost certainly confirmed she lacked the female anatomy necessary for reproduction.

Treepie felt like she couldn’t breathe. Still pressed against Kindle, she bent at the middle, a foreleg wrapping around herself. It wasn’t just that she wasn’t sure she could be Kindle’s girlfriend any longer, she suddenly wasn’t sure she was a girl at all.

Woman, she corrected herself in a wretched whisper.

She breathed in sharply and made a wounded noise. Her other paw balled into a fist and jammed against her mouth, trying to hold back the scream she could feel about to wrench loose.