By now, Aqua had been pregnant so many times that it was almost starting to seem like her default state.

The thought touched down on her out of nowhere one morning. The mother-to-be was resting under a gnarled, grey-barked tree, shadows dancing in the distance. She was at the early stage in pregnancy where her stomach was little more than a cutely round bump; definitely visible from afar (and swollen enough that it was starting to spread her shirt up, leaving a pale stripe of skin where her shirt could no longer corral her belly) but far from encumbering. In fact, she felt invigorated; happy, even.