Oh dear - he looks pissed off. The silver sighs, internally tensing and preparing herself for an elephant-sized tornado of wounded masculinity. She casts a final glance to her children then focuses fully on Tembovu, her face neutral. His first words - or, rather, the barb in them - causes her eyebrow to elevate slightly. "Oh yes - by calling for you once, you're practically my bitch," she drawls, sarcasm dripping freely from her lips. She's allowed a small bit of sardonic humour before it gets all srs bzns, isn't she?

He softens, and a small spasm of relief fills her. Maybe he isn't as angry as she'd initially thought - maybe he can be reasoned with. He remarks on the twins, and the ironheart releases a genuine chuckle. "'Lively and healthy' to you, 'what a mischievous pair of little shits' to me," she says, but it's clear she's joking from the fond expression in her icy eyes. Dammit, but she loves the aforementioned little shits. They're her little shits, after all. They're hard work, but what foals aren't? "But thank you. Watching them grow and flourish reminds me why I put myself through all the pain in the first place." And don't they say the memory of the pain fades over time? It's nature's soothing caress - a way to ensure one keeps reproducing, because it didn't really hurt that much, did it? Yes, it bloody did.

Her face grows serious and her gaze sidles awkwardly away from him, anywhere but directly at him. She hates apologizing - the soldier does not grovel, nor does she make excuses for anything she does. Life's too damn short to pick up the pieces of former explosions, and Nyx causes a lot of those. But Tembovu is a herdmate, a...friend? This situation is the dictionary definition of a clusterfuck, and the silver doesn't want to see the Glazier hurt because of it. He doesn't deserve to be on the wrong end of Nyx's selfishness and love of - to put it bluntly - the dick.

See? She does have a heart.

"I actually wanted to speak with you in order to apologize to you." The words tumble in a heap from her lips, but they sound genuine, not forced - or so she hopes. "And let it go on the record that I'm shit at apologizing, so I'm probably going to end up apologizing for my apology." She manages a watery smirk. "This situation...well, it couldn't have turned out any worse if the Moon Goddess had written it during her time of the month. The timing of everything...me and you, me and Déodat. I know what you must have thought. I know that's probably why you protected me during the tiger fight. And I know I should have told you the truth then, but I had to get the hell out of there before someone's badly-aimed attack aborted the twins." She hadn't known there were twins then, of course, but that would have only made her twice as keen to protect them.

"You know what my lifestyle is. You know I don't do love, or commitment. You know I would never have promised anything to you, because I don't do promises. But I also don't do hurting people for no good reason. You didn't deserve the false hope of thinking my pregnancy could be your doing - if you hoped, of course, I don't know." She shifts awkwardly, damn near stuttering as she may or may not have put words in his mouth, assumed he felt emotions he may not have. She's normally...if not eloquent, then quick-witted, but now she feels like a knuckle-dragging dumbass with her inability to make a coherent sentence. "I should have told you sooner, instead of leaving you to stew. So yes - I'm sorry." Jesus, apologies suck tits.