She nods. Both Teagan and Zhenya can be terrifying in their own ways, but Zhenya would much rather leave the chats to Teagan. She has a way of being more casually threatening than Zhenya. And anyway, Zhenya prefers to save her fire for when it's really needed, like a three-headed dragon holding back its heated breath for the knight come to slay it.
She shakes herself free of that image to laugh at the idea of Sasha getting a tattoo. "I don't know. I let the boys handle the boys. If Sasha had been Nastya instead, then I would know what growing up properly was." If her son had been a girl, Zhenya would know more of the trajectory of her growing up. But boys are boys and girls are girls. She likes the difference, though she knows and cares a great deal for plenty of people who bridge the gap.
Boys who are more comfortable with the girls. Girls like Teagan, who ran with and belonged with the boys.
Zhenya shrugs, continuing down the aisle. "I hope he will. I think he might. It's hard to know what he thinks." She stops, resting her shoulder against a shelf and turning to look at Teagan. "It would be nice to believe he will be like his step-father. He is already like his father, but I don't think he likes to hear that."