Welcome to Gaia! ::

The headshake doubled for a nuzzling, Terrwyn's brother doubling down on his reassurances. He hadn't touched his own snack as yet, waiting and watching, synchinng his movement to hers. "There might be some lookin' down the nose, but not for long. I know 'em too well, an' kids'd soften those in minutes. You wanna tell me Fajra would keep up a hard eye in front of her new nephew? Too much heart for that.

An' yeah. I can be around if you need me." The smile kept growing, returning to the face and eye as it did. He'd been matching her breathing for a while now, and slowing his own down amongst other soothing behaviors she might not be in a right state to notice. Subtle tricks, guiding, keeping her thoughts as level as possible. Much better than brute force, in Viltre's opinion. "So comin' back around to it, I might have a friend or two that could see you out of town a ways, quick an' on the quiet. We'd need to get the midwife chosen an' onboard, 'course. I'm not about to piss the favored of the life spirits off."

"I'll need to disagree there. Mother's doin' her best to pass it around, but she's about the only one who cares. We have a lot of siblings; it was inevitable that a couple of us would fall for people who aren't Tale native. I've done the maths, Terr. Exhausively. The probability curve is nuts." In many cases, the only way it affected their family was in the business sense. Tale was an insular culture, and pedigree counted for a lot, especially if one was mixed. Vulir, their father, paid the concept lip service, as he did so many other things, like 'tarriffs' and 'marital fidelity'. But like those, it rarely went beyond lip service. "As bad an example as Father is, he gets one thing right: he loves us, no matter who we came from. I think that's something we've all picked up."

The taller redhead nodded. He let a crack form in his cheer, a little hitch in the throat as he spoke. "I hate suggesting it. But unless you wanna get your hands dirty, that seems to be our only feasible option here. An' your kid will need their mama around either way." If it paralleled his feelings on the matter, so much the better. Finley would not raise hand to Viltre's sister again. A moment to breathe, to 'regain' control of himself, before they continued. "I can have someone nearby the birthing house. If the baby's mixed we'll have you out and away within the hour. If they're Carlo- damn! Finley his name's Finley! If they're his, we'll need to wait and plan out a bit more. The friend I have in mind has some becoming scruples that need addressing."

Had she voiced her thoughts on 'shaming' the family, her brother would've been forced to agree, though in a wholly different context. That his family had bound her to an abusive mate was a shame far outweighing her infidelity. Viltre had suspicions that their family was far wider than their father had ever admitted, and in large part due to the man's own efforts. From what leaked through her head, well, there was a lot of worry to be read. Forcibly relaxing her muscle patterns, the tilt of her head, things felt more than visually observed.

"Quickly is good. Smoothly is better, here. I'll have a word with the midwife, make sure she knows what's happening. If it's a Leaf child, well, I'll be taking steps to make the father mind his manners." A squeeze to the shoulder, another nuzzle into Terrwyn's hair. The next words came slowly, softly. "You're not alone in this, and you never will be. I promise." The grip relaxed, gave the siblings some little room again, even allowing a bit of humor. "I was thinking a distraction along laxative lines. Get Finley stuck in the privy for a bit at the right time. He's the proud sort; wouldn't wanna leave it with brown getting all down his legs."

She couldn't miss the little surge of malicious glee that entered his voice. His little sister was contributing to a scheme! "Ambitious! Can do that with just the laxatives, as it happens! We'd need to up the dosage some, which means getting something really strong to mask that. Not wine, then. Brandy, spirits? Ooo! There's a drink I found on our register called scumble. Yes, that might do neatly." He'd just feed the fool a line about its being exotic brandy wine from Yael or Belrea, or some such far-off place. He'd have suggested something the Ice folk called mjod, but that might just have Finley pass out. Or die of kidney implosion. Not that he'd be missed either way, but he was much more useful as an active distraction.

Viltre offered another skewer to the mother-to-be. "Now that we've got some good plotting going, eat up. I've gotta go talk to some people, get this whole show rigged up. But that can wait a little while longer, can't it? It's been a long time since you asked for my company, and I wanna make the most of it." Much of the necessary correspondence could happen by letter and courier. In the grand design, they were on notice. But here, right now? A big brother had time to keep his cute lil' sister company.