Thunder Dome a place like magic

A nod, given as admission of lifemaking;
and then quiet, as he went on to explain the parts of his lore which, up until this point, were unknown to the godless silver. Still it was not her place in passing a judgment of thought over the traditions of a culture that she herself had only begun to learn of; and so Andraste remains ever-quiet in his telling, simply listening. Then:  "As long as ze father has some manner of bringing up his brood, then I suspect that is better than those who are nigh unto present."  Whether they wished to be, or not  —  mothers included.

A pall falls over the pair; and Undómiel cannot think of any addition to this conversation, for now; curiosities stoppered by the impending lilt of her own shortcomings and self-banishment of such positions. There was not any one thing that she wished to be to her people ... but now is not the time for the delving of such murmurings; those of Andraste, or ...

"Might you tell me of ze rearing of ze daughters of your Nereides?"  she purls instead; turning from whatever earthly examinations and beginning to wend their return to the frostmade spires from these very depths.