Advice, she thought, in strange manic panic. I'll get advice from someone - a mother - Bristletail had brought her to an herbalist, who had slipped her some herbs after a private conversation, but she couldn't bring herself to take them. And she couldn't just leave the little warm bodies somewhere; not when Bristletail was so excited about them. Even when Hollyhock had mentioned, hesitantly, that they might not be his, he'd simply laughed. "I never thought I had you all to myself, sweet Holly. But it doesn't matter. I'll love them all the same."
Better a loving father than a hateful one, anyway, she thought, thinking back on her own childhood. But what if it was the mother who couldn't bring herself to love the offspring? What then? As much as she desperately wanted to love them, she was quite certain that she could not, would not. The walls would close in on her, tighter and tighter, like a boa constrictor, until she suffocated. Hollyhock shuddered and stood up decisively. She would find someone who could tell her how to love her offspring. "Advice from a mother," she said out loud, feeling vaguely reassured already.
Amorpheous
one day my kin will be wholeheartedly enthusiastic about their babies. one day.