𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛-𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚍.

（ she does not quite roll her eyes. but she does give him a playful little swat to the arm as she pushes him over to grab one of his blankets that's sitting (poorly) folded just past him. she hesitates briefly as she hovers above him — studies his eyes, and then briefly his mouth. perhaps it would have become a kiss, if not for the inquisitive sound of one of her cubits that's made it into their tent. ）

You are welcome to do all the sitting you wish. I'm sure it will need a mother.

（ the blanket is sculpted carefully into something that almost resembles a mountain, twisted up on itself. the egg is slipped carefully into the hollow space, and the blanket then tucked around it carefully. ）

It seems strange that one can store a cubit in one of the boxes, but not an egg. This world is — unusual.