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“Would I not be weak if I could not say but mere words?”
“Sometimes words are unnecessary.”
“The woman has us for a season, and if we fail to impregnate her, we are given chances with others, sometimes, but if we continue to fail, we are sent to war.”
“That sounds terrible. Who do you war with? And why?”
“We are from Tempest, but there are others, like the Veriskans. We war for resources.”
“Resources? Like gold?”
“Women.”
Her hand flies to her mouth. “Oh…”
“They are more valuable than anything to my people.”
“And yet you were quick to want to cast us aside.”
“One must always worry about the strength of the seed, lest you lay waste to your people.”
“It sounds like that might be happening on Tempest already.”
“A lot has changed in the newer generations. Births have halved. Girls have gone from one in five births to one in ten.”
Realization dawns on her face. “You blame the fertility issue on the weak, so you only mate the strong…”
“Yes, but enough about Tempest. Your legs are still closed and your sweet nectar demands I spread them.”
“Is being with me the same as being with the women of Tempest? Will your men be displeased?”
“Being with you is far more desirable. You’re soft in so many places, and the little moans you make get my blood rushing. Your body is warm, brimming with heat, like an endless fire. Your intoxicating scent is everywhere, which speaks to your fertility.”
“You think so?”
“On Tempest, when women are ready to mate, they smell enticing, but where their odor is light, yours is heady and thick. I can smell you from far off.”
Her face pinches in dismay. “I don’t know if I should be flattered or offended.”
“Fertility is a great strength. The women of Tempest can be great huntresses, but those whose wombs quicken are more highly revered.”
“Then why did you initially shun us?”
“These things take great consideration, but I’m certain now that we will be well matched and that you will birth us many sons and daughters. Our kin will be a mix of us, which will be acceptable.”
Her face contorts in horror. “Acceptable? Is that what you’ll tell our sons and daughters? That they’re acceptable?”
“My sons, yes. The daughters would be yours.”
“What do you mean by that? Wouldn’t we raise our kin together?”
“That would be a strange custom.”
“What is child rearing like on Tempest?”
“The women keep their babies until they are weaned. Then, the girls are raised by the women, and the boys are sent to the barracks. Especially strong lines are given honors and raised by betters, but if they show weakness, they lose those honors.”
“My people raise children as a family. I don’t think I could allow a child of mine to be taken away.”
