Bitterroot Valley shaken not stirred

He did not reply nor look up at her as she spoke, not until she said he was a father. It took a few moments for the hardness of his expression to soften, for him to life his eyes from their absent fixation on the snow. "I am?" murmured Luke, his gaze now resting on her face and occasionally meeting her own. "Does he have my tongue? My paws? My fur?" He asked. His thoughts, for the time, were shifted to the idea of a mini-him, or perhaps a brown pup with a blue nose for a mix of both his parents. He relaxed, ever so slightly, and his tail even swished in a way that was slightly quicker and livelier than before.