& i'll envy even the earth that wraps your body,

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Tagging @Asamir, @Aisling, @Valtyr & @Ifalna; keeping vague as discussed, just in case there's no replies so we can just archive after a week or two

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she knows she should be ashamed, with how late the telling of it is; shaking loose clinging cobwebs from 'round her soul as she beckons her fellfey children to find her; to seek her out and sit with her on their great shared stonebed of many hides. supposes it is better that they know now than never. yearlings almost all, even those who had not yet been found; but she brushes a kiss to their brows in gentle greeting anyways before she settles before her heart's brood and begins:

"there are many wars waged in this world, jalokivini — my jewels, but perhaps the most severe of them all is the war between the man and the woman. the spring is what brings her bleeding, and, if she so chooses to, the men who take root within her and sow their seed," unblushing as she looks to her daughters, then, with a considering cant of her lumine head. "know that it is your choice, too, to hide yourself from those who would seek to have you for their own want; the rugged sex does have a paw in giving the gift that is life, but it is the fairer of us who are the vessels for what will be brought into this world. i caution you, girls — if ever you long for a litter when you are more aged, choose the male that holds you like home. not all will wish to be so true. ...or so kind."

turns to the two of her sons, now; has to lean up to bump tenderly the pink of her nose against the dark and cream chins. "be sensitive, during the time a woman has her season. the wild within you will compel you to throw yourself to the mercy of your age-old urges — but you must not allow your youth the better of you. not until you know that she truly wishes to receive you, and that her intentions are not only out of sole need. if you, too, long for cubs in your later days ... be sure that your favor is returned in its entirety, for that ancient dance and the blood of birth is what binds you irrevocably to her. for some, however, it is unfortunately not always so."

more; much more she wished to go on length about. if she does not speak it now, she may never get to. "there ... is also the matter of myself," putting herself apart from her gathered brood, blood or no, and situating herself before them all once more. something like old unknowable guilt pressing down on thin shoulders; guilt for wanting what she might not be able to have; guilt for what her undeath might have been thieved of, when she had demanded what had been hers. "i ... wish to try for cubs, assuming that my own time is even near, and that ..." a stilted, shivery breath, "that you might know, or have a word in this, should you be against it. if you are, i will silence myself of it forever."

"but, please," beseeching them with glimmering gray eyes, ears flitting away as she looks devotedly into each of their faces; all mother and no sotaherra, "know that you are my loves always. i would ask you to be with me, entirely, down this path. every moment. every step."

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asriel takes a deep breath, struggling to focus his attention upon the lesson she gives : torn between something akin to embarrassment and duty. he itches to patrol the borders, to feel the ache in his paws as he runs them or to sink his teeth into an opponent in the sparring ring. though, thankfully, his fur hides any form of heat rushing to his face at her explanation, asriel does his best to temper the worst of his instincts to slink away. this wasn't, exactly, anything he ever wanted to talk about.

but he supposes there is value in the lesson.

it shifts then, and a cold sort of iciness sinks into his heart; jealousy he supposes, when she mentions wanting more cubs. unfair questions then spring to the forefront of his mind: were they not enough? she gives them voice in the choice. that ugly rearing within asriel wants to say no; like a petulant child throwing a temper tantrum. but that is not fair. it is selfish, of him. a breath is followed by a pause, words stolen by the wind before they can pass thru his vocal chords.

a moment to gather himself; to acknowledge his thoughts and put them where they belong.

“i support you in whatever you decide.” a fair and dutiful answer, spoken objectively from the green envy stabbing in his heart.

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