Something in her eyes gave me pause from saying no again. A sort of longing. An almost maternal concern. A Goddess's voice was almost pleading.
If she truly wanted to harm us, would she ask permission? If she were as powerful as she seemed, could I even truly stop her? I'd try, but could I?
"No touching."
I warned, probably ineffectively, while picking him up. My son immediately went for his sole desire in life, not caring in the slightest that the texture of my skin is different. Only that milk comes out.
Sitting down on the table, the Lunar Goddess actually kneels in front of us. Her softened expression was extremely… creepy, considering all of the circumstances. Especially when the Mira-like voice whispered.
"Beautiful. Perfect…"
