[imgleft]http://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/image ... uncert.png[/imgleft]


It was at the end of a long day's toil, at the river's bank where he'd washed off the dirt, that I Shall Not Want thought to mention to his - oh, dare he think it? It was, perhaps, quite verboten.

Lady love.

It was definitely verboten.

He took a moment to repent for the thought.

And then he thought to mention, "Lately, I have been thinking...about babies."

[imgright]http://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/image ... uncert.png[/imgright] To Ashes was also neatly washing off the dirt, and had half a hoof paused above water upon his statement. With mild wonder, solemnity and humble shyness (for she was naught but humble, honest and simple), she looked up and confessed, "I too, have been thinking about babies."

She then lowered the errant leg, and looked away. Although she felt shy, it was an acceptable thought, for babies were the way of the Motherfather, and it would be goodly, as devout kin, to follow in the way of the Motherfather.

"Yes," he said, flushing pleasurably at her agreement, but not too pleasurably, for that was indulgence, "babies. They are nice."

"Yes," she said, actively holding back from unseemly keenness, "yes. They are nice. We should...get some."

He gaped at her prescience. That was exactly what he had been thinking! How did she know?

She was truly a marvel, that he did not deserve.

Perhaps she would even be able to resolve his puzzlement.

"Do you know," he asked, "how do we get them?"

It was then that she lapsed into mild silence, soulfully regarding the very kind, hardworking and lovely buck, the very first buck she laid her eyes on, and turned her head down apologetically.

"I'm afraid...I do not know."

"Perhaps," he mulled, deep in thought, "we should ask."

Two hours later…

They sat in silence at the river's bank, contemplating their discoveries.

"Who would have thought," I Shall Not Want finally said, "that babies would come from cabbages."

"Yes, indeed. I would never have guessed."

To Ashes' brows were still mildly furrowed due to her concerns.

"It seems dangerous to eat cabbages, when babies come from them."

"And yet," he said, thoughtfully, "I suppose - they do look like cabbages. They are quite round, and bundled up."

Her face relaxed as she considered his reasoning.

"Yes, they do look like cabbages, the way they are so bundled. The heart of cabbages."

"Perhaps," he said, "we should...grow cabbages. Together?"

(Repent, repent.)

She turned with cheer, "yes, together! I will..."

To Ashes found her humbleness, and settled, but said with great tenderness, "I will...help you till. I will learn."

"I will teach you," he said, eagerly - and then dropped his eyes, for his eagerness was unseemingly, as was looking too much at her comely form.

"And then," he continued, eyes cast to the ground, "perhaps…"

"Perhaps then we will find the babies, in our cabbages."

To Ashes found comfort in completing his thoughts, and contemplating cabbages.

"Yes. Perhaps, we will be blessed with babies," he said, his heart full, and warm, "in the cabbages we shall grow."