[Urgh, the predator. Serene's had a week to come to terms with the fact that most of the so called civilised humans in this place are from corpse-desecrating cultures, but Giovanni had left a particular impression.

Still, the medium of their communication means she has some distance to be able to respond without wondering what his predator eyes are seeing as they look at her, which gives her room to let her disdain drip]

It must be so freeing to be a man. I refer to the part where my traitorous womb desires to be impregnated every month and the way that it cramps and complains to shed its bloody lining after I frustrate its selfish wants. I have no intention of putting myself in a position where I have to force another human's skull out of my most sensitive area.