You are one of the most intelligent people I have come across, Moa. Simply because you cannot read a language not native to you does not make you stupid.

[She strokes her hair gently before leaning in to kiss the top of her head in a motherly manner. It's probably quite an odd picture, tall, lanky mother and young, tinier child cradled in her lap. Hah. If Linda were around, she'd probably accuse Integra of being a zombie, what with the way she looked right now, skin pulled so taut, worry and weariness blatant on her features. At least Moa set off some kind of tiny spark of happiness within her. She flips to a random poem in the book, simply wanting a distraction and something for Moa to listen to, and she begins reading.]

"Pipit sate upright in her chair
Some distance from where I was sitting;
Views of the Oxford Colleges
Lay on the table, with the knitting."