[15 Chirreb 4261]
I stopped by between classes. Thery hasn't woken up yet, but she's looking a lot less dead.
Levande is looking a lot more dead. "I haven't gotten more than an hour's sleep since Ficina was born!" she wailed at me, over a chalice of kathia in an expensive and Flooshless branch of the Academy Bakery.
Ficina is a very hungry little girl, but rather hampered by not knowing (1) how to eat, or even (2) that eating will make her hunger feel better. This means that she will start crying from hunger, and then, when Yarwain and Levande are trying to get her to nurse, she will object fiercely and energetically (if incompetantly), as if saying, "No! Don't cram that nipple into my mouth! I'm trying to tell you I'm hungry, and don't you dare shut me up!"
Of course, I spent far too long staring at Levande's bosom to be socially correct. I'm sure people will tell me that I've got an only slightly inappropriate preference for counts.
But no. I've got a wholly inappropriate preference for other species. I shan't be comforted by polite fictions. I'm traff, not attracted to nobility as such.
(No, I'm not attracted to Levande. (Or Vae). I really don't like people who beat me up and make me do things. )
(I shall have to figure out how I feel about proper female-mammal breasts when I get involved with some ... preferably Orren.)