Noctisardor Bypass and loved by lightning

praimfaya takes a small measure of relief that even if her children can hear her — though she is admittedly unaware of all the milestones and how to correctly navigate them yet — they wouldn't understand the questions buzzing 'round her head like a hive of wasps at unrest as she hears mahler's steps approaching the entrance of her birthing den. his polite chuff announces his presence. hello mahler, the commander greets him softly. you can come in, if you wish. she invites.

she hesitates then, hindering on whether she should admit the feelings she's been having or not.

can i ask you something? praimfaya asks softly. i love my children, i do but... ah, the dreaded 'but'. she cannot help but wince at her own words at how they will sound coming from her mouth. but she knows they will keep pressing down on her and these feelings are not something she wants to ignore and let fester.

is it normal to feel like they're suffocating me? she asks; whisper soft, as if she were afraid of the words. in a way, she was. how terrible is that? i should be over-joyed but i'm ...not. the admission hangs off of her lips; cottony and awful.