Huh. Really? I guess that kind of makes sense to me; wings being sensitive. Are they permanent?
No, thanks all the gods and little demons. Three months. *buries her face in her hands* Three months where I can’t be touched, can’t have sex, can’t be who I’m used to being.
Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. *her demeanor becomes slightly awkward as she continues* I mean, I can’t say I understand your pain fully about the, uh, sex part—I’ve gotten along just fine without it for twenty years—but I can understand how it might be hard to change your life so fully, and for such a long time. Three months is just ridiculous, if you ask me. *she offers a sympathetic smile*
*laughs a little* Well, you have a point about the sex. It’s really more about the touching. It’s … well, it’s a human thing, really, needing to be touched. We do it so little, these days.