Whitebark Stream our children

He came to her carrying a rabbit—which could be a peace offering, or it could be his breakfast, or he could have been planning on bringing her breakfast regardless of the call. She shook her head; it didn’t matter.

’Grezig. How are you? How are the children?’

The children, she thought. Had he purposefully left out “our,” so as not to piss her off? Probably.

“Our children,” she corrected, the barest hint of a smile lifting one corner of her mouth. “We’re fine,” she continued. “Alsek was having some trouble feeding but I had a healer come and look at him and he’s fine now. Pele was born a runt; she’s still a runt; she’ll always be a runt, but I will teach her to be strong, regardless.”

She waited. She knew she should apologize at some point but the words stuck in her mouth as if she’d eaten something sticky. She was too proud. 

She waited.