If she had any insight into Niro’s mind, then the only thing stopping his precious egg from smashing into his face at the train of his thoughts (more specifically, his doubting her motherly ability), would be her very resolve to prove that what he thought was wrong. Luckily for the both of them, mind-reading was something neither of them were skilled at, so Orin sat blissfully unaware of the random vein of Niro’s thoughts. She was fascinated with what he was telling her about how the little animal inside the brittle shell breathed, but never looked away from it. She began to rock back and forth as though it were a living, cooing baby.
“Hmm…” she wondered for a moment. “So, are you going to keep a diary now?” She finally lifted her head, smiling at him with a bit of an ‘I win’ gleam in her eye. “I mean, you don’t want to forget all the important things that will happen. Its birthday. . . or is that its hatchday? Its first steps. Its first flight. The first time it chirps Momma at you. Momma! Momma!” The last two she screeched in a high voice, comically mimicking what she thought a baby bird would sound like. “Do you have one yet? You have one already, don’t you?” She giggled.
“Well, if you can’t tell that way, how do you tell? Will you ever know? I think it’ll be a girl.” She held it up as though surveying the weight, and peered at it, before cradling it to her body again. “Yes,” she nodded confidently. “It’s a girl. Write that in your journal. ‘Orin says it’s a girl, so it’s gonna be a girl.’ I know a thing or two about birds too, you know!” She lied. “So, do you have a nest for her? Where are you going to keep her?”