Nya frowned. "This is this, and that is that," she said, losing patience. "If you know that much, you should force her to change them! You don't want her to finish on the garbage pile, do you?"
"Well, I don't but…"
"No 'buts'! I don't want to see her corpse anytime soon or yours for the count. Got it?"
Latheli sensed she was saying that seriously.
Out of the dolls, those who were born that way were the luckiest in a sense. They were raised with the idea they had absolutely no rights and thus, easily adapted to any type of mistreatment. For those who fell out of grace however, it was another story. They could rarely hold a month.
Latheli knew it, but she wasn't worried about her lover or herself, quite the contrary in fact. If she was here, it was to announce the good news to her long friend but she thought worrying her a bit would be funny.
"(Well, enough teasing)" she thought before smiling. "Oh, don't worry, the factory gave us permission "
