Moonspear raised high, brought low

When the words eventually came from her mouth, Charon was not sure whether to be happy or not. He wanted so badly to believe it was a good thing. He wanted to be a father, was eager to further his legacy — their legacy — but that was before... Now everything seemed so fragile that he was not sure he was ready to add children into the mix. And what if they looked like him, rather than Charon? He was afraid that the puppies, if they weren't his, would only further the resentment and blame he felt towards Amekaze for what'd happened.

And so the first thought of reply that came to mind was are they mine? He opened his mouth to speak the words but they refused to come out, and so he answered with a simple "ah." As if she had just mentioned that she'd picked up a rabbit on her way home, or that she'd patrolled the southern borders so he didn't have to. He swallowed dryly because he knew he couldn't ask her all of the questions present, ready to roll off his tongue, for she didn't know the answers to them. She would not know whether or not they were his until they were born, until they were older, until they'd be a few months' old and started to resemble either parent... Or a third party.

The thought of having a pup that looked like Lazarus made him mad, and he didn't know what to do with that feeling. He would have to love the crap out of these pups no matter what happened. He waved through the water off-handedly, swallowing again as he near drowned in his thoughts, and closed his eyes briefly. To an outsider, he might look like he was enjoying the water and this cool, relaxing summer's day, but the truth was far from it.

"I'm looking forward to meeting them," he said, his voice hoarse and not full of any form of enthusiasm. He was terrified to meet them — his pups, their pups — but he could not divulge such information to his mate. He didn't want to be afraid. He didn't want to be unsure of how close he could get. He desired the closeness and he desired for things to be normal.

Yet they were not, and never would be. "Are... Are you hungry? I could look for food." Anything to get away from here, he thought, then felt guilty, then felt mad at her because she made him feel guilty. He wanted to help her through this, but found that he simply could not, because he would always put his own hurt first. And, what with being unable to find Lazarus' body so far — whether because he could not access the exact point that his broken body lay or because he'd somehow gotten away — he had no way to process it, for all he wanted was revenge. As if that would somehow make it better. As if that would somehow mend his torn pride, his broken ego, and the terror he knew his mate was going through.

All he wanted was for things to be normal, and for her not to turn into Dhole and run away. She was stronger than Dhole, but would it be enough? He looked at her and exhaled sharply, wishing things would not end the same way between them.