People didn't generally thank her at all, let alone for something like sharing information about themselves, something that was theoretically 'normal", that people likely did... all the time, without struggling like this. So she doesn't know what she's supposed to say in return. "You're welcome"? "Thank you for listening?" Neither of those sounds right...
Women in Estinien's world did not suffer under that same yoke. Perhaps if Hayame hadn't spent her entire life attempting to divorce herself from her sex for fear that it would lead her to a life of being mounted and rounded with foal each year or one spent obediently opening her mouth for a human cock... she would feel glad for those women, for her "sisters" not having to struggle against such things. But she doesn't. She does not know them. Knowing that they had an easier life is no comfort. And she-]
How fortunate for the women of your world.
[... In all honesty, she struggles to even imagine it. Yet she can't feign cleaning the blade anymore, it is bloodless again, unlike the head she has placed on the crate, crimson slowly pooling beneath it.
Was it pointless? No, it couldn't be. She can't even think to say now... "Perhaps it doesn't matter". If it didn't...]
... I just forgot there was no one to give it to.
[She'd just moved, like she'd always thought she would. And now...]
cw: sa
People didn't generally thank her at all, let alone for something like sharing information about themselves, something that was theoretically 'normal", that people likely did... all the time, without struggling like this. So she doesn't know what she's supposed to say in return. "You're welcome"? "Thank you for listening?" Neither of those sounds right...
Women in Estinien's world did not suffer under that same yoke. Perhaps if Hayame hadn't spent her entire life attempting to divorce herself from her sex for fear that it would lead her to a life of being mounted and rounded with foal each year or one spent obediently opening her mouth for a human cock... she would feel glad for those women, for her "sisters" not having to struggle against such things. But she doesn't. She does not know them. Knowing that they had an easier life is no comfort. And she-]
How fortunate for the women of your world.
[... In all honesty, she struggles to even imagine it. Yet she can't feign cleaning the blade anymore, it is bloodless again, unlike the head she has placed on the crate, crimson slowly pooling beneath it.
Was it pointless? No, it couldn't be. She can't even think to say now... "Perhaps it doesn't matter". If it didn't...]
... I just forgot there was no one to give it to.
[She'd just moved, like she'd always thought she would. And now...]