She had considered the possibility of bringing Jude and Byron with her, ghosted over the various reactions and pathways that would open up. What good would it do in the end? Their mother and father were as different as night and day, sun and the moon. Children were blessed with innocence, not stupidity. Her sweet, foolish Byron would no doubt be able to swim through the tension while her precious, fragile Jude would tremble beneath it. Alone was better, and when if she decided to indulge Tilney in his paternal wants, it would be in the safety of the sanctuary she provided.

Whatever semblance of civility the Warrioress had extended like an olive branch, began to smoke with Tilney's demand to know where his son's were. Bright vivid leaves curled in on themselves as the smoke fanned higher, the embers slowly burned like veins over each sacred splotch of green. The Vulture on her crest shrilly chided the stag, if he wanted to see the colts, he was going the wrong way about it. Meanwhile, the mare's nostrils flared with indignation. To come to her home and demand that she give the absent father answers on the children he sired? Where was his explanation, where was his list of excuses for not coming sooner and owning that he'd made a mistake? Where was his apology? He hadn't carried them on swollen ankles and aching wing joints, and he certainly hadn't been there when Jude cried to wipe away his tears, or tenderly dab aloe on Byron's scraped knee's.

A glance is passed over his head to the dappled doe, he wouldn't be here if she hadn't relayed her pregnancy to him. So why hadn't she urged him down here the moment she'd pulled him by the ear? Put the proverbial hoof up his ass, so to speak.

"Our sons." She corrected hotly, her body shifted as her hind legs shifted their weight.  A subtle warning as her curvaceous frame bunched it's muscles together. Astreus spread his wings and took flight, angled to take him back over the dunes toward the red wash cavern they dwelt in. Better that he go keep an eye on both boys, and make sure they were ready for them. "Byron and Jude, are resting at home, safe." She paused, odd coloured eyes stared at the emerald ones that belonged to the ginger doctor. Silently, she judged and assessed him as her ringed ears flicked forward and then back.

"Why now?" She asked, her tone remained clipped and simmering. She was resolute, she would have her answers or he would get nothing at all.



"Speech."