There was another way to avoid nosy men who wished to proclaim fatherhood.
To lay with multiple men. Nobody would know if she bore a child that was not theirs. Perhaps it would look like neither. Perhaps it would look like both. Who was she to say? Who was she to know if there would even be another child this spring?
Once more she stirred like a serpent across the plateau, hunger in every inch of her body language. Another rattling call for company of man, one last cheer to the season she despised.
She wished it was over soon.