Rose laughed lightly at Thomas' choice. She had expected something imaginative and amusing, but aliens? The thought of aliens and birth suddenly made Rose think of a dreadful scene from a movie she had once accidentally watched and grimaced. It definitely hadn't been a romance movie. She didn't like anything where anyone died, unless it was a dramatic, poignant death that pulled at the heartstrings and was, though Rose wouldn't say it, just a little bit hammy.<br/><br/>Thomas appeared to be pondering the question again, this time considering the physically achievable outcomes. Again, his reason for the answer he gave was adorable. Rose was a girl, and wasn't the best singer, but still gave her all in group karaoke. Thomas' talent with the violin was unique to the family. There were a few who had dabbled in the guitar, or was in band in high school, but none with the level of enthusiasm Thomas had for it, and at such an early age. She was very glad it was such a sweet-sounding instrument and not some big brass thing that bellowed and shrieked. There were occasions where it would make an unfortunate noise, but Thomas would quickly stop and chastise either himself or the instrument, Rose could never tell. He had a quick ear either way. Rose tapped her finger on her cheek. The violin Thomas was playing now was a starter violin, paid for and insured by the school. Maybe for his birthday or, amusingly, Christmas as well, his gran could get him a nice instrument of his own. She would have to start looking into quality and prices. Where would she even buy one? Finally, something the all-magnificent general store couldn't provide.<br/><br/>"The horses love your treats, Thomas," Rose said, taking her plate and walking over to the sink, "just don't give them too many or they'll end up like Bentley!" Bentley was their undeniably overweight donkey. They had put him on all sorts of specialty diets, put a muzzle on him at certain times to keep him from grazing, but nothing seemed to work. The veterinarian had said his weight wouldn't kill him, so eventually they decided to keep him as he was. He was usually seen tottering around the horse fields, or occasionally they would have him watch the cattle if there was a wild animal warning.<br/><br/>Of course, feeding the horses apples wouldn't make them like Bentley, but it would make them spoiled to have them all the time.<br/><br/>The breakfast plate was rinsed before being put into the dishwasher. The dishwasher was a newer appliance, but still finicky. It had been unloaded the night before, so Rose's plate was one of the newest additions to the machine, besides the water glasses of the farmhands who had passed through even earlier. Thomas came up beside her to fill Alexia's water glass. Rose gave him a side glance from behind her owlish glasses before speaking. "Do you want to help me and Conor saddle up the horses?" She asked. Rose knew that she would be riding, as well as Conor and Thomas, but she would have to ask Alistair if he wanted to before they left. She thought he enjoyed the quiet company of the equines, but wasn't completely sure. Alexia was the only one who couldn't ride, because of her pregnancy. That was one thing Rose had really missed during it all.<br/><br/>Alexia excused herself from the room, and Rose's head turned quickly. It was a phrase Alexia used whenever she was overwhelmed and needed to get away, and it had been happening more frequently with her pregnancy. As much as it was against the fiber of her very being, Rose avoided following her daughter. When Alexia wanted to be alone, it was best to give her all the space she needed.<br/><br/>During Rose's pregnancy, she had been similar in emotional randomness. After the babies were born, it was two different stories of two drastically different women. Rose had always wanted another baby, but she felt that she shouldn't. All of the missed meals, missed days, medication, crying... it made her feel trapped just to think about it. A twinge of jealousy flared up in Rose's heart, something she hadn't felt in quite a while. Alexia handled it so much easier, like it was nothing at all. She had been happy, over the moon, looking like it was effortless to be a mother when Thomas had been born, and now the same would happen with the second. At times in the past when Rose had watched Alexia play with or feed little baby Thomas she left the room in a mixture of anger, revulsion, and self-pity. It wasn't a hate directed at Alexia, or sweet little Thomas, but her own body, her own mind, fighting against her craving, her desire to be a mother. Rose's smile became a tiny bit strained as she busied herself in clearing the table and getting ready to go on the picnic.