Zèklè
Now it's your turn to be bewildered - because of all the things for Isopia to say, you definitely didn't expect What egg? For a moment you can only stare, confusion creeping over your animate face, your gaze flickering to Hubris for any sore of clarification. Normally you feel pretty confident in your ability to ascertain the gist of the demigoddess' thoughts, despite her passivity and detachment - you like to believe you can see past it, that you understand her, even though maybe the rest of the world sometimes can't. Like this whole thing - you somehow figured out that being a Ma was something she, if not wanted, then didn't not want. You stood with her when she went to challenge Tembovu, understanding her motives, even if you didn't agree with them. You helped her find her name.
Right now, though, you've got no idea what's going on.
Has she changed her mind? Does she not actually want a foal? Have you somehow been talking about different things this entire time? It doesn't occur to you that she doesn't equate eggs and babies; why should it? You have only ever seen foals poke their way out of eggs - your sisters, your brother, Aithniel's kids. Hell, you did it yourself, not too many years back. Desperately you rack your mind, trying to figure out where you went wrong, where this conversation left you behind, but for the life of you you really did think you were both on the same page.
A scary, deeply perplexing page, but the same one nonetheless.
You chew your lip, uncertain, utterly at a loss. "The egg," you enunciate carefully, sunbeam eyes trained to her face in effort to gauge her reaction, her understanding. She may have forgotten her last foal, but she still has to know how this works - she's Isopia, after all. The Mountain that Knows. "The one the foal would come out of. After you lay it. Or- or me, I guess. Y'know, if... if we, uh, if we're talking about the same thing." Parenthood. Babies. Us. Making one. Somehow. You know, that thing.
And in the sea that's painted black,
Creatures lurk below the deck
But you're a queen and I'm a lionheart
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[P] Band-aids don't fix bullet holes (but babies might)
