Gwendolyn sighed. "No use harming the potential child to be for the sins of their mother. Even if she really needs to be a better mother." She rose from her seat, grabbing her cloak and herb basket. "I'll go for the yarrow and nettle. Don't wait over long for me, father." She kissed his brow. "I'll be back before you know it." Then she went out the door and into the village, mind pondering.

Perhaps she was simply oversensitive to the idea. She had been a foundling child after all, left to die by whoever abandoned her. [i]Would have died[/i] if not for father. Never having a chance to grow and become who she was now. Yet she had at least seen the world and daylight. To just talk so casually about killing a child within their mother's womb...

It was a [i]theory[/i] of his. And she could not blame him over much for not wanting Ryska's sons to grow in number and hurt more of the others in their cruelty. Yet, they had no way of knowing for certain that if she was expecting again, the child would be like that too. Or even if it would be another boy. It could be a daughter for all they knew. She would check on Ryska herself, see if she could confirm her father's words. She had thought she could sense the child when last they helped with labor. Maybe it was her imagination, but she could see. Even if it meant hearing her complain, nag, and wonder why she doesn't marry, again.

She huffed, blowing some of her hair away from her face. Why couldn't people be [i]simple?[/i] Less likely to get on your case about things that don't concern them? Or willing to stop others from hurting other people just because? True, it likely would make things more boring and dull around here, but sometimes boring was not bad.

She paused as she came by the tavern, spying Voshker looking rather pale. "Chief Voshker?" She came up to him. "Are you alright?"