The Floodlands Hold Me, Love Me, Stay With Me [m?]

Dagfinn laid still, body shaking slightly as he struggled to remain upright. He hadn't know, couldn't have - it was all so new, and yet it felt like something old as time itself. Amber, at least, seemed familiar with it, and now that lethargy gave his mind some respite from the beautiful, terrible scent, Dagfinn remembered that he had heard of a woman's heat. It hadn't been his mother to tell him, he didn't think. Laerke, maybe? He didn't know. It'd been a long time ago, and much of the converstation had been lost on him at such a young age. He imagined that they hadn't expected him to break away so soon; that there would be time to tell him all he needed to know of the world.

Suddenly, Dag felt very young, though he dwarfed most wolves he came across. Dwarfed Amber, certainly. No matter how many pounds he held over her, she was older and wiser than he was, and her blue eyes and dark face and warm presence made him miss Lotte with a fierce pang of longing. Her body, though, made him feel like nothing else.

"Will we have babies, now?" he blurted, feeling so very, impossibly young. His blue eyes found Amber's, and he waited for the older woman to comfort him as she had before. To take charge, as was her wont. Dagfinn wanted it, too. He wanted someone else to be the adult, even if it was just for a little bit. Tomorrow, maybe, he would take a deep breath and look at what he'd done, take stock of his situation - but right now, he just wanted Amber to make him feel better again.