"I'm not saying what's true, just what I've heard and read," he said, emphatically.  "I wouldn't consider many witches I've met anything other than brilliantly intelligent - but even the word I just used, right?  Brilliant means very smart, but also bright like the sun.  And men are incredibly emotional, it's just that our emotions are usually anger and hatred.  And plenty of mysteries are out in the open daylight.  And the idea that women aren't 'generative' is a little weird, right?  It isn't like men have babies - but we provide the 'seed.'  In this metaphor, women are the 'passive' earth, which makes me think the people who dreamt all of this up weren't very close to the land.  Or maybe they were and it just gets more convoluted the more a person looks into it.<br/><br/>"Don't think I'm an expert on witchery, though.  I'm not.  It feels all very... I dunno, I don't have the words for it.  Not easy ones.  Like we're putting people into narrow lanes and demanding they stay in them, and if they don't there's something wrong with them, even if there are logs across the road.  I think I'm explaining it badly."<br/><br/>He pulled away from her, got an empty pail, filled it with water and poured it over Vara's head to get off most of the soap.  He did it, again, and then handed her the bar of soap.  "It's your turn to do me, now."  He wore a cocky smile.