"Mama," I start, "Why are we fighting them?" We have taken to calling out life-givers mother and father like the humans, as it is easier to distinguish them, other than calling them, 'Female-life-giver' and, 'Male-life-giver.'
"Why are we fighting, whom dear?" she asks airly, picking blueberries from the bush.
Who do you think? Lepricons? "The humans." I state calmly, as my mother freezes staring at me with charcoal eyes. My mother and I have the same pale green complexion and hair colour, yet we have opposite eye colours, where hers are charcoal mine are crystal - not that you can see them through my forest-green hair.
She is standing frozen next to the old oak tree. "It's complicated." she decides, "You're too young to understand."
"Too young?!" I almost scream. "Mother, I am one-hundred-and-sixty years of age, I am practically a woman!" My voice peaks higher as I get more worked up. A difference between our kind and the humanites is we are classed at middle age around five-hundred, whereas humans peak at around sixty - it used to be around their thirties!
The air around me cackles with my fiery rage. Mother sighs, "Calm down, Vernia. There is no need to act like a spoilt brat. You know a lot more about these things than other females your age." I gag.
"Whatever." I twirl on the spot and walk away, my head high in the air. I know that Malc is with his father I think - we shouldn't be friends, but we are. Dangerous, but oh well, I am a teenager of our kind, I'm allowed to be. No one else really knows about our friendship, which is good, my life-givers would freak out at me.
I wander the war-less zone alone, getting increasingly bored. I make a decision to go to see my mother's womb-companions-spawn (or what human like to call cousins).
On my way I hear lightening, Elysia, my voice chuckles in my head. As walk by, my shoulders scrunching to avoid notification. Yeah, that doesn't go well, I am hijacked by Elysia, who practically screams, "Vernia!"
Ow! "Oh, hey Elysia. What's up?"
"Um...I was wondering.....do I really have to fight in the front line? I don't think I'm ready and I've only just turned sixteen, don't you think I'm too young?" she speaks quickly, it's a good thing my ears are good and can pick up ever word she pours out.
"Yes, you are. Who wants you to figh-" my common sense rings in my ears. "It's your father isn't it?" She nods. "Right, be right back."
I trudge off to her Male-life-giver (see, calling him her father would have been so much easier!) and explain (loudly) that Elysia is too young to fight, no matter how powerful she may be.
We argue for a long time...