Vindictive and spiteful

Her uncle wrapping around her offered a security she wasn't sure she had felt in her whole life. She pushed her head into his chest, surprisingly mindful enough to angle her antlers so they wouldn't poke him in the throat, and she focused on trying to get her breathing under control. Closing her eyes, she managed to take a few steadying breaths that at least stopped her eyes from leaking so aggressively. Drinking was always a terrible choice.

Chimera's rumbling voice washed over her, and Modesty sniffled when he mentioned they hadn't heard from her mother. Though her breath still came in short gasps, and her shoulders still shook with the aftershocks of her sobbing, she was starting to get her shit together. Why did the mention of sending dogs out make her stomach flip and her throat burn? Oh, that was right...

Biting her tongue to keep herself in check, she finally pulled back from her uncle's chest, ready to face the world again, though clearly not on her feet. “That shouldn' be necessary,” she still had the fucking hiccups, “Pont is at th' shrine,” hiccup “I imagine 'e'll let me know if she shows.” Oh god was it an earthquake that had the world rolling beneath her? But her Uncle didn't seem phased at all. “Apparently, alcohol isn' the miracle cure...”

Though she should have known as much from watching Sparrow over the last year, she still sounded puzzled by the revelation.

But surely that was enough of her own woes, she should focus on happier topics right? As if she could. “How'd'they do it? Your wives, how do they share?” Not that she had any intention of doing so, but she was curious, “Do they have boyfrienz on the side too?”

“Speech.”