Broken Boulder feels like i am falling down a rabbit hole

Really, he tried not to let himself process his mother's death. Of course, he failed completely. It was beginning to sink in; time and his return to Broken Boulder saw to that. Things were settled— he was home— there were others to help him lead— and it was time to break, now.
Alarian had never done things like this quietly. It wasn't in his nature— until, quite suddenly, it was. The Governor didn't think he could bear to see the pity in anyone's gaze; or, god forbid, the grief in Lanawyn's. He kept to himself when the grief was overwhelming— and when it was not, he kept busy.
Thoughts of his mother inevitably led elsewhere, to topics he didn't think he was ready for; to pups. The boy couldn't quite decide if he was more disgusted by or concerned for his newest siblings— nieces and nephews? Oh, god. No. So anyway, it was easier to focus on trying to decide how he felt about the pups he would soon be confronted with. Queenie's pups. He had been avoiding the stunning, obviously-dissatisfied woman since their arrival— a fact he felt guilty for, now. Wasn't it his job to care about his members or something? At least the pregnant ones, probably.

So he set off early in the morning to find an appropriate offering, wondering if wolf pregnancy was anything like dog pregnancy. He had seen and assisted with the latter in full— birth, too— but had only ever briefly met pregnant wolves. Would Queenie need... help? Was he even qualified for that? Alarian wasn't sure anyone in the pack was— certainly not him, though. His only experience with birth had been a failure.
These thoughts were rendered irrelevant when he was ready to find her, fox dangling from his jaws. Suddenly the boy was alight with nerves. He did know that pregnant women were hormonal— and Queenie didn't exactly seem thrilled to be here anyway. What if she hated him? What if she told him she hated him, and he cried, and she told everyone? The Governor was a mess of anxiety as he set off to find his new packmate, wondering why he put himself in these situations.

He couldn't help the swish of his tail when he came across Queenie, though it was more from nerves than anything. Ali tossed the fox gently towards her when she had come close enough, answering her with a shy smile: Yeah,
It was a warmer reception than he had expected; nerves slightly soothed for now, he sat. We haven't really gotten a chance to speak— are things okay here? Is it comfortable? I know it's not your old home, but— if there's anything I can do... Alarian realized he was rambling, then, and shut his mouth immediately with a slightly sheepish expression. He really wasn't cut out for this leader thing.

Immediately his ears slicked back, eyes widening with shock— and some hurt, if he was honest. Perhaps a short time ago he would have taken the outburst lying down, met her with understanding; that was what everyone expected of him, wasn't it? But what if he couldn't be that anymore? The Governor's gaze hardened. It was unfair of him, he knew, but—
Something in his chest tightened harshly. He valued his home immeasurably, and had allowed her in nonetheless; her and her pups that tormented him so much— before they were even here, tangible. Now she complained about rank— about his family's supposed indifference— about his own attempts at concern. Pregnant and freshly uprooted or not, he was insulted.
I was unaware of your mercenary experience, He began stiffly, rising to his feet now. Consider yourself promoted, General. It was perhaps the pettiest thing he had ever done, but, well, oops.
When you decide whether you want someone to care or not, The Governor continued as he turned to leave, glancing back at her only once. You can find me. The words came with a cooler edge than he had intended.
With that, the Governor left; more deliberately, more confidently than he had thought himself capable. But you'd best believe he was totally fleeing— all the way to the Bracken Woods, if Queenie did not stop him.

He never expected these things, honestly. Alarian stopped at Queenie's call, turning with one ear cocked back. His expression softened as she spoke. I get it, Alarian said after several beats. As much as I can, anyway— I wouldn't want to be here either, honestly.
The Governor paused again; it made sense that she would apologize, given the circumstances. He knew that didn't mean she cared at all what he thought, or what he had to say. If she did, he thought, she wouldn't have said anything in the first place. Or, that was the assumption he was going with. Which made what he was about to offer a little bit easier to force out— because it very much carried the possibility of offending her. Look, you don't sound enthused about any of this— there's not a lot I can do right now, but... if you get restless, after the pups are born, let me know. There are— herbs, to stop milk flow, and I'm certain my sister would be willing to nurse them for you. If you want, that is; it's not for everybody, but it's an option. The last sentence was tacked on carefully— he had known mothers to do it before. Not all of them were uninvolved parents; not that he was here to judge, anyway. It was an option he could offer her, and maybe she'd bite him, or maybe she'd appreciate it.