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Inner Musings
Homecoming


1 December - Night

They came home last night.

Aseliv grows like a weed. Even on just a short trip he is already near six foot tall. It won't be long until he looks down to me and smiles. Senn had best remember the discussion on manners, else it won't be Aseliv that gets into trouble.

Homecomings are always nice. No matter how nice it is to leave, it is better to come home. It always feels good to know you are missed. Senn was most happy to be home. I think he looks forward to the birth of our daughter. I think he was most happy to discover that Tyleesa is also pregnant.

That disturbs me. Not that she is with foal, that I am most excited about. It will be nice to have so many children running around. No, it is her concerns that she cannot carry a foal to term. Woe be to those who upset the Second Wife, for it will not be Senn's anger they risk.


2 December - Morning

I guess, for a first entry, it was all right. Looking it over brings me back to wondering about Senn's curse.

I adore my mate, but this fertility of his worries me. We can only gather that it is he who has been cursed, as each time we mate the child I carry ages a month. Last night I was three months pregnant, now I am five. Only one comes to mind when the culprit is considered, but why? It's not like his curse causes harm, but increased fertility can have it's drawbacks. What we thought was a blessing from the gods was instead the curse that brought us Aseliv. And why curse just Senn when I am just as at fault, if not more so? Afterall, I am the one who told him he was going to wind up hurting in the end if he did take her as his First. Why blame just him?

Either way, neither of us is sure what to do about it, if anything. Why look at it as a curse at all, when we are getting what we most wanted, children. Though I wish not to breed the whole herd of centaur myself, and I am certain that Tyleesa wishes not to have so many children either.

Tyleesa. Poor lass thinks that she will only have this one foal. I told her of the curse and it did not seem as though she believed me. Who could blame her? Sounds like fanciful fiction. No, it's not fiction . . . it's our lives here that were tampered with. But who do I speak to?



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