cold in the violence after the war
hope is a fire to keep us warm
The baleful look she casts Lilli as she teasingly suggests she should have even more children says everything about her thoughts on the subject. She had never imagined herself as the maternal sort. Really, anyone who looked at her could easily see she isn't meant to be.
"Maybe I want to be an underachiever," she quips back with a snort before shaking her head. As though the brief flutter of her mane and clatter of bone could erase the possibility. Of course, she could never tell Lilli the real reason she is so terrified of having children.
But the way her skin tears and fresh blood trickles with that simple movement is a timely reminder. The world sees the face she wears, fearsome and nearly indestructible. But she knows the truth of it. The one thing her father had been loathe to tell her. But he had.
She knows how guilty he had felt. Because the bones she had inherited from him would continue erupting through her skin. They would grow until they could grow no more. Until her body broke beneath them. Until they killed her.
She knows she would feel that same guilt too.
Perhaps that's another reason why she clung so fiercely. They are family, but she would never be the reason their own bodies betrayed them.
So the favor Lilli asks of her is really no favor at all. The thought of anything ever happening to her brings a knot to Brazen's throat and a fierce denial to her heart. But she's not so foolish to believe she could be there forever, or that she is undefeatable. Though she strongly wishes to deny that anything would ever happen, she's too practical to genuinely believe it's true.
"Of… of course," she finally manages, though no doubt every other thing she is feeling is completely visible in her face. "Nothing is happening to you though."
Brazen