Moonspear eye of the untold her

His response made her cry harder. It was perhaps the most gracious thing he could do, could say, and it made her feel like such a monster. Treepie felt desperate to explain, though he made no such demands of her.

I don’t think I’m a girl, she admitted in a throaty voice, breath hitching. Oh, gods, she said next, starting to fold to the ground.

She didn’t know what she was. She felt like a woman, in so many ways, yet her body was more masculine than feminine. And it seemed her heart might be too. It sounded simple—maybe she was just a man—but she bent at the middle just like she’d done during their last conversation.

But this time, she didn’t hold back the screaming.