zephyr wanders toward the coast in brief, indecisive bursts, occasionally turning back as if to flee his decision. he never makes it quite far enough to see or hear the coast, however. instead he finds himself caught up in the moraine, a familiar yet unfamiliar place to the wraith. he wanders it slowly without a single thought spared toward his current condition, or who it might draw to him. he has yet to connect the dots, though it won't be much longer before he does.

predictably, zephyr isn't alone for very long. he spots the stranger in short order, seemingly before the dark wolf becomes aware of the wraith's presence. the abrupt lift of the man's head alerts him to their mutual awareness of one another, and zephyr finds himself inexplicably tense — yet equally drawn in by the prospect of another encounter like the one he'd had with wintersbane. he shivers slightly to remember their embrace, and alters his course to meet the midnight-furred stranger. he smells the sea on him as he nears, the tang of salt almost close enough to blood-scent to remind him of better times; of lovers he'd known more intimately than these unknown bedfellows of his. zephyr chuffs softly, tail swaying, and hesitates for several moments in his approach. the draw of heat-scent is still new to him, and he finds himself uncertain of how he'll be received by the stranger.

his own approach is met in kind, and while the wordless mutuality does little to soothe his wariness, something draws him forward further. something he can't quite place. he pays little attention to the feeling — as little as he pays to the growing tension in his own body as he draws ever closer. too close for comfort, now, but that doesn't stop him. nothing about his existence is comfortable as of late, particularly in the past few days. the molten heat in his veins controls him now, more than the ice at the center of his heart ever has — and while he doesn't understand how or why, the pull of instinct is strong enough that he knows what will soothe the fire at the core of him. he knows that this stranger can provide it.

in this moment, little else matters.

sometime during their wordless coupling, it dawns on the wraith —

this is it. this is the scent that had drawn him in; the one that had set the mood for his first sexual encounter, the one that had caused the friction and clumsiness of his introduction to romance. and it's coming from him. the implications settle heavily over him as he parts from the dark stranger. zephyr hardly acknowledges his presence at first, suffocating under the weight of his thoughts. fatherhood — a curse, a burden he'd sworn he would never bear after his father wore it with so little grace. kavik had let the mantle fall from his shoulders, had let it crush his children and fragment their development. he'd left them stunted and splintered, and zephyr has always known that he could never truly be suited to such a role, lest he leave his own children with the same scars.

yet here he is, plunging into unfamiliar waters with no thought toward the consequences. he thinks of wintersbane, then, and shivers a little. surely the man had known. after all — who else could have left all those other wolves with heavy bellies? the thought leaves him feeling hollow.

finally, he looks to his companion. i have to admit, he starts, sounding more collected than he feels. i only realized i'm in heat about a minute ago. a slight pause, and he sucks in a breath, then continues with a hint of humor to his tone, so... how do you feel about children?

the stranger is distinctly not thrilled, and zephyr can't help but think this is only to be expected. nothing in his life seems to have a happy ending, and why should this be any different? at the very least, the ending statement is some small reassurance; he will not be alone in the ordeal, should it come to pass. it feels like a meager consolation prize. but he's made his own bed, and now it is time to lie in it. he clings to his typical mask of stoicism as he responds, suddenly eager to be done with the interaction. you're right, he starts ambiguously, continuing without clarifying. tell me your name, then, and where i can find you if — if i need to. a slight stumble over words, as he struggles to avoid the tidal wave of dread suddenly looming over him. it'd been easier when he'd been able to regard the situation with a bit of humor; easier to ignore what feels like impending doom.

mother! woman! his mind shrieks at him from some dark ugly corner, and he knows that soon the world around him will follow suit...

as if they don't already.

raimo. sapphique. he tucks the knowledge away, and briefly describes the location of duskfire glacier in return. he leaves it vague enough that any of the neighboring territories might be mistaken for the glacier, and he does not offer a name. the thought of raimo meeting wintersbane turns his stomach.

then he departs, eager to leave the encounter behind him for as long as he can.