Her voice was apparently met with recognition; she felt a rise in appreciation for the pale fae as she realized that her voice held no surprise. Surely the midnight visitation had not been expected, and yet Kou responded with grace and comfort. This was a femme that was well-versed in all manner of conversation. Of course, the Lady had always known that Kou's bite was much worse than her bark, so to speak, but she had never truly gotten to know her on a personal level. All that she knew of the Nurse was heresy. She ought to have done something about it sooner, but such is life. The ivory mare spoke of darkness and silence, and the shadow-mare had to agree with her. "I have always found comfort in the night," she agreed. "I have found that since becoming the Lady here, I appreciate the silence of the darkness all the more." It was truth, really - after all, most of her herd brought their problems to her during the day. The darkness brought a welcome reprieve.

The jackal should have known that where the Nurse roamed, her Doctor would not be far behind. She knew that he had arrived before Kou's greeting, but it was not until he became visible that she nodded her greeting. His mate's, however, clearly took precedence over her own, and she looked away, suddenly uncomfortable. A small part of her, locked up since that day in the icy caverns of the Frozen Arch, longed for such a touch, but she refused to acknowledge it. Not here. Not now. Instead, she turned her attention to the young pup bounding before her and, noting the curiousity in its gaze, lowered her head in a rather uncharacteristic display of softness, placing her feathers within the pup's reach.

The Nurse's light croon reached her auds and she smiled, her gaze jumping to the pair of them. "Congratulations," she murmured softly. But it was the following question that brought the shadow-mare's head up in a hurry. Her first reaction was to be affronted; after all, what business of Kou's was it to know if she intended to bear more children? Realizing the stupidity of this particular emotion, the next to come was guilt. Had the pale mare somehow found out about she and Mauja's tryst in the Arch? But no - no one had been around to see them, no one would know of their somewhat romantic affair - or could she even call it that? It was too confusing, and it was bad enough to muse over it in her private time, much less now.

A pealing laugh left her maw as she hoped to dispel the rather awkward silence that had lingered for just a breath too long. "I'm afraid I may not be the best mother," she replied, her voice amused. "I'm sure I'm not the only one who notices my daughter's unbecoming behavior." It was said in a wry, joking tone, but there was truth in it. Sobering, she added, almost without thought: "I wouldn't say 'never,' but it's certainly not in my immediate future. It is, after all, a bit difficult without a mate or a lover." Her gaze flickered to the Doctor then, and though there was no bitterness or jealousy in her words, she wished that it would be so easy for her to have what Kou had - to be formidable not only alone, but as a half of a whole.

"Talk talk talk."