Please be sure to get all the blood off this time, dear. *inserts a pause of an appropriate length for a subject change* Shall we make a baby today, Oromë?
*begins to remove his blood-splattered boots and clothes*
*washes his face and hands and then starts picking bits of dried blood out of his beard*
Baby, baby, baby. What do you want with a baby, Vána? They can't hunt or kill or fight or clean a knife. *considerately* They can't even process megaramhertzthings. Why do you want a baby?
You're being very silly. *small smile* Babies grow up to be adults like you and me. And our babies would be very likely to hunt (ew) and have excellent capacity for memories and so on. There are many genetic and environmental influences to consider.
Good. *kisses the back of your neck* And just think...it's something of our very own to mold and shape in our images! Like Eru's children. Or Aulë's dwarves.
*gives you a Look* I'd never let you take care of it. *pokes you lightly* And you mustn't hunt it, either, when it's big enough to run around. I'd be very upset.
Of course it will be taller. We're both tall, aren't we? *patiently* That's how it usually works. Children inherit genes from their parents. Often, they even look like their parents! Isn't that interesting?
And NO, you may not hunt our baby if it cries too much. Or if it smells strange or bad. Or if it doesn't know how to fetch beer. Or for any other reason.
*sits at her desk and runs a search for "books for reluctant fathers"*
*skims through some of the results*
Here's one..."when your son calls you 'Daddy' and you see the light of admiration shining in his eyes..." no, that's not helpful... "when you feel the tugging of your heartstrings on your daughter's wedding day..." *considers*
*looks up at you* See? They're sweet and you can give them away when they get older.
Just waiting for you to say the word, my steamy meat goddess. *hey, he's a hunter. meat-goddess is a pretty damn fine compliment*
*totally doesn't do foreplay, btw, it's just not a manly sort of thing that manly sort of hunters do* *it would be kind of like petting the deer before shooting it in the heart* *weird*