Moonspear moody blue

Her husband named the object: a song-maker. Her lips twitched faintly at the apt title. Then Njord said something about choosing a different gift, something more useful. In her muzzy state, the sudden turn gave her a bit of whiplash. Meerkat blinked, then shook her head when she fully processed his inference.

This is enough, she said, patting the skin spread beneath her hip, and I like the thought of having some decorations. Sure, she continued slowly, thinking aloud, practical gifts are good. But sometimes it’s nice just to have something… nice.

A self-deprecating laugh followed that inarticulate sentiment, though Meerkat hoped Njord would get what she was trying to say. The way he addressed the pups in her belly certainly indicated he understood the source of her brain fog.

But, suddenly, a thought hit her with bright clarity, prompting Meerkat to say, Could you do me a favor and lay here? as she patted the space beside her.